Evil People Have Their Own Evil Mothers [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 3: Waste Paper

Chapter 3: Waste Paper

Seeing Cao Weidong’s indifferent expression, Xu Jiu swept a casual glance at him. If you won’t talk, then pay up. I’m not going to make this difficult for you.

At the mention of money, Cao Weidong’s eyelids twitched slightly, and a quiet thank you slipped from his lips.

After speaking, Cao Weidong didn’t rush to leave but instead met Xu Jiu’s gaze directly.

His eyes were utterly lifeless, like black holes incapable of reflecting any emotion Xu Jiu projected.

It was as if everything Xu Jiu did in front of him was just empty air—he simply didn’t care.

Staring into those pitch-black eyes, Xu Jiu’s temper flared instantly. He slammed the bottle in his hand hard against the table.

Crack—

Glass shattered across the floor.

Cao Weidong halted, his gaze fixed on the broken glass bottle in Xu Jiu’s hand. Clearly, the shattered glass held more appeal to him than Xu Jiu did.

A girl at table three let out a frightened scream, while Pan Yu shouted Xu Jiu’s name: Let it go, just let it go!

The bar owner, who had been keeping an eye on table three, rushed over. He pushed Cao Weidong away, stepping between the two of them, and laughed nervously to defuse the tension. Handsome, our Xiao Cao just has a bad temper. Let me offer you a drink personally and apologize on his behalf.

Xu Jiu frowned and shoved away the owner’s restraining hand, snarling, Who are you? What gives you the right to apologize for him?

Seeing the situation escalating, Pan Yu quickly grabbed Xu Jiu’s hand, snatched the broken beer bottle, and tossed it aside. He forcibly dragged Xu Jiu back to his seat while offering the owner an apologetic laugh to smooth things over.

Pan Yu asked him, You haven’t even been drinking, so why are you so angry? Is it really necessary?

Yeah, was it really necessary to be this angry?

Xu Jiu irritably lit a cigarette. He didn’t know where this inexplicable frustration was coming from.

The main guy hadn’t even fought back, just endured all the humiliation and abuse—so what was there to be so frustrated about?

Xu Jiu glanced toward the front counter, catching a glimpse of Cao Weidong’s busy figure through a gap. He tapped ash from his cigarette, exhaled a cloud of hazy smoke, and sulked in silence.

Pan Yu suddenly leaned in and asked, Is it because he never apologized for bumping into you this morning?

Xu Jiu looked at him, thought for a moment, then nodded.

Leave it to me. Pan Yu patted his chest, pulled out his phone, and stepped out of the noisy bar to make a call.

Soon after, Pan Yu returned, winking at Xu Jiu and giving him a thumbs-up while pointing toward the back kitchen.

Xu Jiu focused his gaze and realized that the pale, busy figure in the back kitchen had vanished.

Come with me. Pan Yu beckoned to Xu Jiu.

What did you do to him?

Just come with me and you’ll find out.

Xu Jiu stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, clapped his hands, and stood up.

They passed through the bar’s grimy back door and turned into an alley reeking of alcohol and vomit. Drunks lay collapsed all around, and they had to watch their step to avoid soiling their shoes.

Xu Jiu made disgusted noises as he walked deeper into the alley, stopping only when he spotted Cao Weidong in the distance.

Four thugs with dyed yellow hair were banging clubs against the wall, producing a terrifying thumping sound. They had Cao Weidong by the collar, punching and kicking him while hurling foul curses. The sound of clubs hitting bone was eerily similar to the noise against the wall.

One of the thugs noticed their arrival, leaned against the wall, and jerked his chin toward Cao Weidong. His bones are seriously tough. No matter how hard we hit him, he just looks like a corpse—doesn’t react at all.

Xu Jiu glanced at Cao Weidong, only to be startled by the discovery that Cao Weidong was also looking at him.

In the damp, muddy depths of the alley, amid the filthy curses ringing in their ears and the relentless kicks and punches from the thugs, their gazes somehow met along a bizarre, slanted line of inequality.

Cao Weidong’s eyes were cold and detached, devoid of emotion, as if he were merely lifting his gaze to look at someone.

The pain wracking his body seemed to mean nothing to him. His face remained expressionless, without even a groan of agony.

Even when beaten until he couldn’t straighten his back, collapsing face-first into the mud, his demeanor remained as still as stagnant water.

Yet his gaze never strayed far from Xu Jiu, who was just an arm’s length away.

Xu Jiu felt unnerved by that stare, but as the villain, he had to provoke hatred—he couldn’t back down.

Pan Yu had just lit a cigarette but hadn’t taken a puff yet when Xu Jiu snatched it from him.

Cao Weidong was still being beaten, and Xu Jiu watched coldly from the sidelines, smoking.

Cao Weidong didn’t struggle, didn’t resist, and gave no reaction at all.

It was like punching cotton, yet also like striking steel.

Hey, apologize to Young Master Xu.

Cao Weidong kept staring at Xu Jiu, his pupils dark and round like a sewer rat’s, intently tracking every move of the person standing in the light.

I’m sorry, Cao Weidong said.

Xu Jiu thought, He’s staring like that—he must be holding a grudge.

Then I have to make sure he sees clearly, to remember exactly who he should hate.

Louder. Young Master Xu can’t hear you.

Xu Jiu stepped forward, stopping a blond thug who was about to deliver another heavy blow.

He walked up to Cao Weidong and kindly provided the reason for the beating: You bumped into me on the street today, remember? Spilled cola all over me.

Xu Jiu felt he was standing too far above Cao Weidong’s line of sight, so he crouched down, grabbing Cao Weidong by the collar and yanking him closer.

The distance between them abruptly closed until only each other existed in their field of vision.

Xu Jiu took a drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke into Cao Weidong’s face, then waved a hand to clear the white haze obstructing their view.

Remember this: if you see me, take a detour. Otherwise, I’ll beat you every time I lay eyes on you.

Holding the cigarette between his fingers, Xu Jiu brushed aside the stray hairs obscuring Cao Weidong’s vision and clicked his tongue in disapproval. You should get a haircut. Maybe then you wouldn’t have been blind enough to mess with me.

Xu Jiu gave Cao Weidong a moment to react.

He thought, I’m this close to him—surely he’ll fight back now, right?

A headbutt, biting, choking me and pinning me to the ground—any of that would work.

So why?

Why isn’t he resisting?

Why doesn’t he hate me?

So troublesome.

It must not be enough. His hatred isn’t focused and singular enough for him to know who to take revenge on right now.

Xu Jiu grabbed Cao Weidong by the neck and slammed him against the wall, hard enough to make his vision go black.

Then, he forced Cao Weidong to look at him.

Do you smoke? Xu Jiu asked.

Without waiting for an answer, Xu Jiu shoved the half-smoked cigarette into Cao Weidong’s mouth.

Cough… cough, cough…

Cao Weidong didn’t know how to smoke. He coughed wretchedly, his features contorting with physical discomfort, dispelling some of the lifeless indifference on his face.

Satisfied, Xu Jiu released him, pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and laughed arrogantly.

Do you remember who I am now? He pulled several dozen crisp new bills from his wallet and stuffed them inside Cao Weidong’s collar.

As Xu Jiu flicked his hand, the cigarette butt landed squarely on the back of Cao Weidong’s hand. He shifted his foot and stepped down on it.

While grinding out the cigarette butt, he also ground it against Cao Weidong’s metacarpal bones.

Xu Jiu’s eyes were filled with anticipation, eagerly awaiting Cao Weidong’s pain.

Unfortunately, Xu Jiu’s expectations were dashed. Cao Weidong remained as hollow as a crumpled black piece of paper, unchanged no matter how Xu Jiu trampled and abused him, because this was simply who he was.

Xu Jiu shot him a disdainful glare and spat contemptuously, Corpse.

Turning around, Xu Jiu fanned his nose in disgust while counting out a stack of bills from his wallet. You reek. All of you, come out with me to get your money.

After Xu Jiu turned away, Cao Weidong’s gaze fixed on his back like a deeply embedded nail, so intense it seemed capable of piercing through Xu Jiu’s slender frame.

Xu Jiu noticed it and turned his head to flash Cao Weidong a provocative smile.

Xu Jiu’s thoroughly pink hair danced like flames in Cao Weidong’s pitch-black pupils, nearly burning away the lifelessness in his eyes.

A nameless impulse surged abruptly in Cao Weidong’s heart.

Expressionlessly, he leaned against the wall to stand up, wiped the still-wet blood from his face, and limped away through the other end of the alley.