Volume One, Chapter Seventeen: Father and Son at Odds

In the following days, Zhang Han took Yang Song out during the day to eat, drink, and have fun, allowing him to experience the pleasures of wealth. At night, after running, they would go for a bath, and occasionally, Yang Song would join Xia Shuang and a few others for afternoon tea.

At six in the evening, Yang Song returned home wearing a brand-new hooked jacket. As soon as he stepped inside, he saw Yang Zhongrui half-leaning on the sofa, smoking. The floor was littered with cigarette butts. Yang Zhongrui lifted his eyelids slightly and caught sight of Yang Song out of the corner of his eye. Slowly, he sat upright and spoke in a hoarse, deep voice, "Xiao Song, come here."

Yang Song strolled over casually and plopped down on the sofa, sprawling out without a care. He grabbed the unfinished beer on the coffee table and took a big, satisfied sip. "Dad, what’s up?" He pulled out the new Apple phone Zhang Han had bought him and began fiddling with it. It was his first Apple device, and he was still unfamiliar with many apps.

Yang Zhongrui exhaled a plume of smoke and spoke gravely, "How’s your relationship with Zhang Han lately? Has it eased up?"

In recent days, Liu Zhong hadn’t answered his calls at all. Without a pillar of support, Yang Zhongrui was thrown into panic.

"It’s great, back to how it was before. Zhang Han takes me out every day to eat, drink, and play—high expenses," Yang Song boasted, showing off the Apple phone in his hand. "See this Apple phone? You didn’t get it for me, he gave it as a gift for getting into college."

"Not just the phone, he also gave me a MacBook and an iPad. He spent over forty thousand yuan, not to mention taking me all over An City these days, spending no less than ten thousand daily."

He sighed heavily, "Life is truly wonderful when you have money."

At that moment, Yang Zhongrui felt as if his heart was being pierced by needles; a man’s dignity trampled mercilessly. He had promised Yang Song long ago that once he got into college, he would receive the Apple three-piece set. Yet now, it was his son’s friend who gave it to him.

What hurt most was that they had once teamed up to try to frame Zhang Han, but in the blink of an eye, his son seemed to have forgotten all about it.

Yang Zhongrui’s face twitched. "Xiao Song, you know how things are at home now. Can you ask Zhang Han to lend us a million yuan to tide us over?"

Yang Song curled his lips. "Dad, what are you talking about? It’s only been a few days since Zhang Han and I put the past behind us, and you want me to ask him for a million? That’s way too much. Fifty or a hundred thousand would be more reasonable. If I ask for a million right off the bat, what will he think?"

"He’ll definitely think I’m only hanging around him for his money. Then how could I keep living the good life with him?"

Yang Zhongrui stared coldly at Yang Song, surprised by his lack of backbone.

"Slap!" Yang Zhongrui suddenly delivered a harsh slap across Yang Song’s face, scolding him fiercely, "You useless thing! If you can’t even handle your own little problems, how could our family have been driven to this point?"

The slap was heavy, venting two weeks’ worth of pent-up frustration. Yang Song was stunned for a moment, his eyes instantly reddening. He glared fiercely at Yang Zhongrui and snapped sharply, "You call me useless?"

"No, it’s you!"

"You and Liu Xin’s father failed in your investment, losing over a million yuan. Why are you blaming me?"

"You tricked your own son’s good friend—someone he’s played with for over two years—into taking drugs, all to frame him for breaking and entering and sexual assault. Poisoning, assault, all to split the five million yuan Zhang Han has with Liu Zhong!"

"I made that mistake once, got flustered and took the wrong cup—does that make me useless?"

"You’re the real useless one! Look at you, over forty, still paying off the mortgage and car loan, can’t even afford a gift for your son’s college acceptance. Now look at our classmates—everyone’s either traveling or on their way there!"

"What about me? What do I have?"

Being young and rebellious, Yang Song, taller than his father by half a head, pointed his finger aggressively at Yang Zhongrui, venting his frustration.

He was damn angry and jealous. Zhang Han’s five million came from his parents’ house being demolished for relocation. His own father was still paying off a mortgage on a single house.

"If I call Zhang Han ‘Dad,’ he might even pay for my college tuition!"

"You just want me to break the law. Useless!"

That phrase was the final straw, breaking Yang Song’s spirit. It was no different than watching your own wife in bed with another man, enjoying herself. Yang Zhongrui went berserk, grabbing Yang Song’s hair and slapping him repeatedly.

Yang Song wasn’t a fool; enraged, he fought back. It was a fierce, no-holds-barred brawl.

While beating Yang Song, Yang Zhongrui cursed, "You’re useless! I wake up at night and hear noises from your room."

"You can’t keep it up, only making Mom sigh. What use are you?"

"Zhang Han is only eighteen. At least if Mom sleeps with him, she’d be happy."

Yang Zhongrui, who had barely retained any semblance of reason, was now completely lost. "You think I’m useless? Damn it!"

He grabbed Yang Song by the collar, pushing against his neck, forcing him back toward the TV. He slammed Yang Song’s head against the screen over and over.

The LCD screen shattered instantly, shards flying everywhere, some piercing Yang Song’s head—a terrifying sight.

Yang Song’s fighting spirit flared. He grabbed a vase from the TV stand and smashed it onto Yang Zhongrui’s head. Blood splattered everywhere. Yang Zhongrui collapsed, his body convulsing.

Yang Song barely had time to think. The first person he thought of was Zhang Han. He picked up the phone that had fallen to the floor, bleeding all over, crying as he rushed out the door to call Zhang Han.

"Zhang, Zhang Han, where are you?"

Zhang Han had placed his phone on Liu Yan’s waist and turned on speakerphone. "I’m out running. What’s up?"

Hearing Yang Song’sI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.