"Fang Yang, Tang Wulin—you fought Xie Xie?" Xu Xiaoyan blinked, curious.
"Mm," Fang Yang nodded, smirk faint on his lips.
"No choice!" Tang Wulin shrugged, nostalgic.
"Back then, you had no idea how extra Xie Xie was—his arrogance was unbearable!"
All eyes swung to Xie Xie.
He choked on his lemon tea, face burning.
"Cough—those are ancient history!" he sputtered, flustered. "I was just… young and reckless…"
Gu Yue took a delicate bite of ice cream, deadpan:
"You mean you got beaten into submission."
"Hey! Gu Yue—!" Xie Xie bristled, but shrank under Fang Yang's gaze, muttering: "…I've mellowed since…"
Xu Xiaoyan giggled: "Xie Xie—how exactly were you arrogant? Spill!"
Zhang Yangzi and Wang Jinxi leaned in, eager.
Xie Xie stammered: "I… uh… was just… slightly confident…"
"Slightly?!" Tang Wulin snorted, merciless.
"Xie Xie—do you even believe that?"
Fang Yang shook his head, teasing:
"What was the result? Day One—Wulin and I taught you humility."
"Whoa!" Xu Xiaoyan gasped. "Xie Xie has a dark history?!"
"Ancient news…" Xie Xie grumbled, pleading: "Can we spare my dignity?…"
Laughter erupted around the table.
---
Then—Yuanen Yehui returned with the manager.
A middle-aged man in a black suit bowed gracefully:
"Sir—how may I assist you?"
"Her comm number. Now," Yue Zhengyu demanded, pointing at Yuanen.
"Apologies—we can't disclose staff privacy without consent," the manager replied firmly.
"Get your owner," Yue Zhengyu snapped, patience fraying.
Soon, a well-dressed man hurried over:
"Sir—your request?"
Yue Zhengyu repeated coldly: "The waitress's comm number."
The owner stood firm: "I've heard your terms. Still—no. Privacy is non-negotiable."
Yue Zhengyu's eyes narrowed, voice glacial:
"So you refuse—no matter what?"
The owner nodded.
Yue Zhengyu laughed softly, standing up.
Snap!
A suave middle-aged man approached:
"Young Master—your orders?"
"Negotiate. Buy this drink bar," Yue Zhengyu said casually, as if discussing lunch.
The owner paled, stammering: "I'm not selling!"
The butler smiled, handing him a golden card.
The owner's eyes widened—terror and awe flooding his face.
Holy Angel Clan—the Le Family!
He nodded mutely, following the butler aside.
Watching this farce, Xie Xie twitched.
"What era is this? Buying shops to get a girl's number?"
"City folks really know how to play…" Tang Wulin murmured, shaking his head.
Fang Yang glanced away, dismissive: "Boring."
Xu Xiaoyan tilted her head: "Will he get her number?"
"Probably," Xie Xie sighed.
Moments later, the butler returned with the owner:
"Young Master—the deal is done. The bar is yours."
"Good," Yue Zhengyu smirked, turning to the owner.
"Now—her comm number."
He spoke loudly—ensuring all nearby tables heard.
Patrons stared, bewildered.
Buying an entire shop in Shrek City—just for a number?
(Prime real estate here cost fortunes—and wasn't even open to outsiders!)
The owner sighed, approaching Yuanen.
But she stepped forward first, voice icy:
"What do you want from me?"
Yue Zhengyu smiled gently: "Nothing much. You're beautiful—I'd like to know you."
"Fine. I quit."
Yuanen ripped off her vest, tossing it on the table, storming out.
Yue Zhengyu immediately followed.
"Let's watch," Tang Wulin urged.
"Go," Fang Yang said, already paying the bill.
The seven exchanged glances—rising as one to follow the drama.
---
Outside, Yue Zhengyu unleashed his soul power.
Blinding gold erupted—a pair of pristine wings unfurled behind him, sacred aura flooding the street.
"Holy Angel Clan—the Le Family?!" Xie Xie gaped.
(As heir to Donghai's elite, he knew this legendary bloodline!)
"An Angel martial soul…" Xu Xiaoyan whispered, astonished.
Yuanen halted, spinning to face him, fury blazing in her eyes:
"Why won't you leave me alone?!"
Yue Zhengyu's voice turned solemn, unyielding:
"As long as you bear the Fallen Angel martial soul—you'll always be a Fallen Angel. I won't ignore that."
Yuanen's eyes flashed with killing intent.
She spread her arms—darkness swallowed the space behind her, reality warping.
A pair of obsidian wings burst forth, her delicate face now edged with demonic allure—a stark contrast to Yue Zhengyu's holy radiance.
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