Do Not Bully A Thirty-Year-Old Elderly Person! - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Uncle, Let Me Massage You

After finishing the police records, it was already the middle of the night.

Peng Jia had dreamed countless times of sitting in a valuable Maybach, overlooking the night view of the entire city.

But he never expected that one day, when the dream actually came true, it would be in such a situation of sitting on pins and needles.

The interior of the car was so quiet that one could only hear the crisp ticking of the second hand on Huo Suo’s mechanical watch.

Peng Jia kept signaling to Huo Sicheng with his eyes.

What is the situation!

This is my uncle!

Why did you never say you had an uncle!

He was really fooled into thinking that Young Master Huo was a poor child abandoned by his family, with even his own father not caring much, and yet, a seemingly powerful and high-ranking uncle had suddenly popped out.

——You didn’t ask!

However, the main reason was that Huo Suo was too busy.

When Huo Sicheng was a freshman in high school, Huo Suo had just sat in the position of Chairman. Before he could even warm his seat, he was surrounded and attacked by various branches of the Huo family from all sides. He was far too young and still an illegitimate heir.

During that time, Huo Sicheng rarely saw Huo Suo come home. On very rare occasions, this uncle would drag his exhausted body back and pretend to care about Huo Sicheng’s studies, while making some harsh and biting comments about his eyesore exam results.

Sometimes Huo Sicheng really wanted to tell him—this is literally the report card from the end of the previous semester!

But seeing that face forcing itself to stay spirited, Huo Sicheng opened his mouth and eventually said nothing, just pitifully blinking his eyes to satisfy his uncle’s desire to “mentor.”

When Huo Sicheng was a sophomore, Huo Suo had finally stabilized the company. As if there were wolves and tigers chasing and biting him from behind, this person was so stingy that he never considered taking a break for his own tense nerves. Without saying a word, he took Assistant Qin and went abroad personally to open up markets.

Huo Sicheng didn’t know how Huo Suo was doing overseas. Except for a monthly family phone call, he actually didn’t hear any news. He only knew that these years, people kept ringing the doorbell of the villa—those who wanted to butter up Huo Suo, or those who wanted to butter up Huo Sicheng because of Huo Suo, were becoming more and more numerous; they were everywhere.

The most recent call was two months ago. If it weren’t for Assistant Qin taking the time to report that he was safe, he would have really thought that this “cheap” (convenient) uncle had died in some corner of a foreign land.

He peeked at Huo Suo’s side profile, whose brow was tightly locked, eyes closed to rest on the seat. After not seeing him for over half a year, this person seemed even more tired and thinner. A small scar ran obliquely across his upper lip from the corner of his mouth; he didn’t know when it was left behind. There weren’t many scenes where Huo Suo could suffer a loss, but Huo Sicheng knew that even if he asked, he wouldn’t say much.

His uncle was just such a person. He always treated Huo Sicheng as a child who hadn’t grown up yet. He always carried all the responsibilities belonging to this family, belonging to himself, and belonging to his mother who died early, all alone, and without a single word.

“Is the silence waiting for me to ask you, Young Master?”

A cold and sarcastic voice sounded inside the car. Huo Sicheng finally snapped back to reality.

Huo Suo threw his glasses aside and pressed his brow, which was throbbing with pain from high eye pressure: “Tell me, what’s going on.”

Peng Jia huddled on the side like a quail, watching Huo Sicheng gesture and talk. With a bit of silver-tongued persuasion, he narrated the ins and outs of the matter, adding his own image as a victim—”a good student who did a righteous deed and was retaliated against by bad kids” and “just curious and was framed the first time he went to a pool hall”—vividly.

What was even more bizarre was that Huo Sicheng, whose “model student” persona wouldn’t even be believed by a dog passing by Experimental High School, was actually believed by Huo Suo.

Damn, he really thought his tall, sturdy, and fierce-looking nephew was a pitiful little white flower!

Peng Jia turned his head to look at the school bully’s (candidate version) pitiful puppy eyes, terrified.

Seeing all this today, would he really not be assassinated by Huo Sicheng tomorrow?

“Zhou Zhan, that’s my arch-rival… well, my nemesis in studies, you don’t even know how bad he is!”

This made Huo Suo amused, and his lips curled up: “Yo, you can actually have an opponent in your studies?”

Mockery, this was complete mockery!

“You don’t care about me either. You don’t know how hard I’m studying now. I’ve already improved by 23 places…”

Half an hour later, only the messy, circular complaints of the cold young master Huo Sicheng echoed in the car. Assistant Qin looked in the rearview mirror; Huo Suo had fallen asleep to the child’s nagging.

Until they got out of the car, Peng Jia still felt like he was dreaming.

The expensive engine sound of the car sounded in his ears. His muscle memory was faster than his brain, and he quickly pulled out his phone, took a photo of himself with the Maybach’s exhaust fumes, and uploaded it to his WeChat Moments in one go.

——(∩_∩) Thanks to the Young Master for sending the little one home! [Photo]

When he saw this post, which could be called a provocation, Zhou Zhan had just finished work.

With summer vacation approaching, the number of students practicing at the boxing gym had clearly increased. Some old students didn’t want to attend such large-scale group classes, so they made appointments for one-on-one sparring partners.

The gym was short-staffed with coaches. Zhou Zhan finished his shift at “Xun Ri,” rushed over at 6:00 PM, and didn’t finish work until 11:00 PM. By the time he came out of the shower after a cold bath, it was already 12:00 AM.

“Xiao Zhan, want some late-night snack? The boss is treating.” Wang Yan stuffed two meat buns into his mouth and picked up another bag, waving it toward Zhou Zhan.

Zhou Zhan wiped his wet hair, pressed his phone off, walked straight past the steaming bag of buns, grabbed a box lunch from the table, and shoved it into his mouth.

“Hey!” Wang Yan was amused, “Still the young ones, huh, just love eating rice.”

Zhou Zhan was the only one in the group who didn’t come from a martial arts school and was still attending a proper key high school, yet he boxed in a very decent way.

The boss, surnamed Zhang, was a retired boxer. When he first saw Zhou Zhan, that little bastard was still just a half-grown kid.

Zhou Zhan learned things quickly and had a lively brain. Seeing a kid in the gym training day and night, the group thought he was a dropout working, so they were all very caring.

Back then, relying on a cold, handsome face, Zhou Zhan had learned the master coaches’ secret techniques without a fight.

It wasn’t until September 1st that Zhou Zhan started school, and the group in the gym learned that this little thing was not only in high school but also the same Zhou Zhan as the little prodigy on the street signs saying “Celebrating student Zhou Zhan for winning City No. 1”!

Damn, unbelievable!

The blame for this lies in the fact that Zhou Zhan’s jianghu aura was too thick, like a wild little wolf; it would be impossible to cultivate this cynical temperament without hanging out with one or two punks in the back streets for a few years.

Who knew this temperament was actually innate? Some people are just born looking world-weary.

Later, Wang Yan discovered that Zhou Zhan was not only in the gym, but also in the pool hall next door, internet cafes, supermarkets, and even working as a bodyguard at the back-street bar—this kid could be seen everywhere.

He didn’t know how many jobs he worked in a week; he was simply a man like the wind.

The man like the wind was halfway through his rice when he suddenly remembered he hadn’t fed the bird yet.

“Eat slowly. If the sisters who were attracted by your handsome face saw you like this, our gym would lose a few more ‘Gods’!” Wang Yan advised him earnestly, “Don’t do stupid things with your face.”

Zhou Zhan was too hungry to bother replying to him. He sped up, wolfing down his food, bit the chicken leg in his mouth, tossed the paper box into the trash can, and waved at Wang Yan: “I have something to do, so I’m leaving first, Brother Yan. Thank the Uncle for me.”

“Slow down!” Wang Yan clicked his tongue and teased, “Why? Does your girlfriend scold you for coming home late?”

“It’s not that easy.”

Zhou Zhan grabbed his jacket and ran, his feet like wheels of fire.

Bang! The door opened—

Almost instantly, before the lights were even turned on, a bird like an arrow shot off the string thrust itself at him, its beak precisely pecking at Zhou Zhan’s head.

“Bad guy!”

“Bad guy!”

Zhou Zhan raised his hand to brush it away: “Dead bird, don’t you know how sharp your beak is?”

He didn’t even have time to take off his shoes before he sprinkled the bird food into the cage.

“You can jailbreak yourself, why can’t you go to someone else’s house and mooch a few bites?” Zhou Zhan felt that this bird was not like him at all. When he was ten years old, he knew how to sniff out scents and find the right time to sit at people’s doors to ask for a bite to eat, which could be called an “old artist.” Unfortunately, this skill was lost on the dead bird.

He raked his fingertips through the few tufts of hair on the parakeet’s head and clicked his tongue: “Bully the soft and fear the hard; the one surnamed Huo plucked your head bald, and you didn’t dare to peck him.”

The clueless shitter-scooper (owner) kept raking the bird’s bald spot, and soon a triangle was pecked into the back of his hand. Only then was the bird satisfied before he went to his room to finish his homework.

Huo Suo slept soundly that night. He was constantly flying to different countries this year, not to mention jet lag, but his body’s biological clock was a complete mess. Relying on his youth, President Huo drank this pot of porridge without a word, accompanied by sleeping pills.

The result was that when he woke up on the third morning, his head hurt so much that he braced himself against the sink for a long time.

“Uncle?” Huo Sicheng came down from the second floor and saw Huo Suo half-leaning on the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose: “Eyes hurt or head hurt?”

The man opened his eyes, frowned, glanced at him, and blurted out: “Why haven’t you gone to school yet?”

“Today is the weekend!” Huo Sicheng wailed, “You don’t care about me at all!”

“What about the weekend? You’re almost a senior in high school, and you still have the weekend off?”

Huo Sicheng was furious: “Vampire! Capitalist!”

The capitalist couldn’t be bothered with him.

“Uncle, let me massage you.”

“Get lost.”

“You don’t trust me—I actually learned a thing or two from a professional.” Huo Sicheng knew this person never took his body seriously, saying, “Okay, I know, I’ll go to the hospital when I’m free,” but actually detoured whenever he saw a hospital.

“Where did you get a professional from?”

Huo Suo still had to negotiate business with some foreigners later. His mind was now a mess of paste, and every time he thought of those deep-scheming things, the paste stirred even thicker. He wished he could put his head in the refrigerator to ice it, take it out to air it after the meeting, unfreeze it, and then continue to hurt.

“My classmate’s family runs a Traditional Chinese Medicine massage shop.”

“Which classmate?”

“Which classmate of mine do you know? You never care.” Huo Sicheng grumbled and stepped forward, pulling his hand down: “Who massages like you? Are you complaining it’s not painful enough?”

Huo Suo felt that Huo Sicheng didn’t resemble his mother in any way, except for this nagging mouth.

A beam of sunlight shone in from the main entrance, making the whole living room look less cold.

Only when Huo Sicheng felt the warmth transmitted from his fingertips did he have the sense that this person had really returned from the corners of the globe.

When Assistant Qin came in, what he saw was such a filial and warm scene.

Almost instantly, Huo Suo opened his eyes and patted Huo Sicheng’s arm: “Alright, I have things to do.”

“How is it, is it okay?” Huo Sicheng said complacently.

Huo Suo picked up his jacket and said mercilessly: “Useless.”

“…”

“If the next report card Qin Sui sends me shows that you failed any subject, you will stay at home honestly on weekends to study.” Huo Suo could still recall the feeling of his eyes going dark when he saw those single-digit scores on Huo Sicheng’s physics test paper.

“Do I have to go to college? Can’t I just be your assistant after I graduate?” Huo Sicheng tried to struggle: “Uncle, I don’t want to leave you.”

Huo Suo stopped in his tracks upon hearing this and sneered: “Assistant Qin graduated from A University and was the provincial top scholar that year. May I ask who you think you are?”

“…” Huo Sicheng looked at Qin Sui, and the young assistant nodded humbly at him.

Huo Suo had been getting a headache over Huo Sicheng’s dull brain since he was a child.

His mother, Lin Sen, was at least an excellent graduate from a prestigious university. In the end, all the blame really lay in his father Huo Meng’s genes, which were truly eye-openingly bad.