Chapter 22: A Crisis of Trust, A Gallant Defense of Beauty
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Trust in Crisis, Protecting Beauty with Resolve
The urgent voice on the communicator was like a thunderclap, roaring in Mao Yu’s ears.
"Steward Lin has been kidnapped!" These words struck Mao Yu’s heart like a massive boulder, leaving him breathless.
He looked sharply at Feng Yao, only to see her face deathly pale and her lips trembling slightly.
Bad news always came in waves. Rumors had reached the Feng family from somewhere, claiming that Mao Yu was only getting close to Feng Yao to stir up trouble between gangs and profit from the chaos. This gossip spread like a virus, causing a massive uproar within the Feng family.
Steward Lin had come this time not only to warn Mao Yu to stay away from Feng Yao but also to bring the family’s skepticism and dissatisfaction.
"Young Master Mao, our young lady is far beyond your reach. I suggest you conduct yourself accordingly!" Steward Lin’s tone was cold, devoid of any warmth.
Mao Yu could not explain himself; he tried hard to clarify that his intention in mediating the gang disputes was for the benefit of the Feng family and the peace of the entire Superpower City, but Steward Lin refused to listen, stubbornly believing he had ulterior motives. The people around them also began to point fingers and whisper, as if he were some heinous criminal.
"Young Master Mao, by doing this, you are only hurting the young lady!" Steward Lin said sharply, his tone carrying a warning.
Mao Yu felt a wave of helplessness. He looked at Feng Yao, his eyes filled with frustration and pain. Feng Yao stood there, pale and silent, her lack of response making Mao Yu feel even worse. He was torn internally, not knowing what to do. If he persisted, he might push Feng Yao into a more difficult position; yet, if he gave up, he would be unwilling to do so. He did not want to betray Feng Yao’s trust, nor did he want those spreading the rumors to succeed.
He looked off into the distance, his heart filled with confusion and doubt. Two voices seemed to be arguing in his mind: one told him to give up and stop being so stubborn, while the other shouted for him to stay the course and never surrender.
"I..." Mao Yu had just started to speak when suddenly, a figure rushed out from the crowd, grabbed his collar, and snarled, "You’re Mao Yu? You’ve got a death wish for messing with Brother Hu!"
Mao Yu was stunned for a moment, then realized: it seemed the real trouble had only just begun.
Mao Yu flung the lackey aside as if he were trash. The lackey stumbled several steps, nearly face-planting on the ground.
"Brother Hu? Which Brother Hu? Wang Hu? Tell him to wash his neck and wait!" Mao Yu declared with overwhelming dominance. The surrounding crowd gasped—this kid really didn’t fear death!
"You’ve got a sharp tongue, kid! Boys, get him!" The lackey, humiliated and enraged, called his accomplices to charge.
"A bunch of bottom-feeders, daring to act arrogant in front of me!" Mao Yu sneered, instantly unleashing his powers. His figure flashed like a phantom, weaving through the crowd. His punches and kicks fell like rain, each strike carrying immense force. Before the lackeys could even react, they were all sprawled on the ground, wailing in agony.
"Is that it? These are Brother Hu’s men? Go back and tell him to send someone decent next time!" Mao Yu dusted off his hands, looking on with disdain.
At that moment, Feng Yao walked to his side, her eyes filled with worry. "Mao Yu, are you alright?"
Mao Yu smiled slightly and gently patted her head.
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"Don't worry, I'm fine. A small scene like this is nothing to me."
After dealing with the lackeys, Mao Yu began to investigate the source of the rumors. He keenly sensed that someone was deliberately stirring up trouble behind the scenes. After some investigation, he discovered that the rumors were being spread by the subordinates of Wang Hu and Zhang Biao, and the mastermind, as expected, was that mysterious conspirator!
Mao Yu sneered—that old fox was truly a persistent shadow. He organized the evidence he had gathered and went straight to Steward Lin.
"Steward Lin, I know you have misunderstandings about me, but the facts are not what they seem. Look at this, and you will understand who is pulling the strings."
Steward Lin took the evidence and examined it carefully. As he read, his expression grew increasingly grim. He never imagined he had been used.
"This... how is this possible?"
"Nothing is impossible," Mao Yu said calmly. "I know it’s hard to accept for a moment, but this is the truth."
The people around them began to discuss, and the way they looked at Mao Yu changed. "So that’s how it was; we all misjudged Young Master Mao!" "Young Master Mao is truly impressive to have cleared up the truth so quickly!"
Steward Lin took a deep breath, walked up to Mao Yu, and bowed solemnly. "Young Master Mao, I’m sorry. I was wrong about you."
"Admitting one's mistake is the greatest virtue," Mao Yu smiled. "Now, shouldn't we join forces to deal with the real enemy?"
Feng Yao walked to Mao Yu’s side and gave him a grateful look. "Thank you, Mao Yu." Her voice was soft but filled with tenderness.
"Silly, what are you thanking me for?" Mao Yu smiled gently, his eyes full of doting affection.
Late at night, when everything was quiet, Feng Yao quietly came to Mao Yu’s room.
"Mao Yu..." she called out softly, her voice trembling slightly.
"What’s wrong?" Mao Yu looked at her, his eyes warm.
Feng Yao bit her lip and gathered her courage: "Thank you for always protecting me." Her cheeks flushed slightly, and her eyes were filled with deep affection.
Mao Yu looked into her loving eyes, his heart fluttering. "Feng Yao..."
Suddenly, a frantic knocking on the door interrupted them. "Young Master Mao, it’s bad..."
The voice of Steward Lin came through the communicator, shouting: "The young lady has been ambushed! At the abandoned factory!"
Mao Yu’s expression shifted. Without a word, he grabbed Mao Ling and rushed out. "Yao-Yao is in danger!"
Inside the abandoned factory, flames were shooting into the sky. Feng Yao was besieged by a group of thugs in black. Though she resisted fiercely, she was outnumbered and in constant peril.
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The thugs in black were vicious, striking without mercy.
"You wench, just surrender!" the lead thug sneered, brandishing an iron rod.
"Want to touch my sister? Get through me first!" Mao Ling shouted, stepping in front of Feng Yao, her small figure erupting with astonishing strength. But she lacked experience and soon found herself at a disadvantage.
At the most critical moment, a figure cut through the night sky like lightning and landed in front of Feng Yao.
"Whoever dares to touch a hair on her head will suffer the consequences!" Mao Yu made a domineering entrance, instantly igniting the scene.
"Young Master Mao!" Feng Yao exclaimed in surprise and relief.
"Mao Yu, you finally made it!" Mao Ling also let out a sigh of relief.
"Just you? That’s a big talk!" the thugs mocked disdainfully.
"Heh, you'll see soon enough," Mao Yu sneered, unleashing his full power.
His figure moved like a ghost among the thugs, his punches and kicks raining down like a storm.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!" After a flurry of heavy impacts, the thugs collapsed to the ground, wailing in agony. Mao Ling joined in the assault, her small fists striking the thugs; though the force was limited, it was enough to make them suffer.
"That’s for bullying my sister!"
Mao Yu showed no mercy, his every strike lethal. His eyes were cold, like a reaper descending.
"Remember, if you dare come back, it won't just be broken hands and feet!"
The thugs were terrified out of their wits, scrambling and crawling out of the abandoned factory. "Run! That kid is a devil!" Mao Yu’s name spread quickly among the lackeys, becoming a nightmare they could not shake.
Feng Yao looked at Mao Yu, her eyes filled with gratitude and admiration. She knew this man was a harbor she could rely on.
"It’s okay now, Yao-Yao," Mao Yu gently pulled her into his arms, comforting her softly.
"Thank you, Mao Yu," Feng Yao held him tightly, feeling his warm embrace.
However, the crisis had not truly been resolved. Zhang Biao and Wang Hu, the two gang leaders, had met again at the Superpower Bar...
In the bar, the atmosphere was heavy. Zhang Biao glared fiercely at Wang Hu, gritting his teeth as he said, "Wang Hu, what is the meaning of this?"