The Almighty Mystic Just Wants A Quiet Life - Chapter 13

Chapter 13

“Let me finish this cigarette.” Bo Nan slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke, tilting his head to watch the grey wisps being swirled by the wind toward the Qian residence. He retracted his gaze and gestured toward Li Zhou. “You driving?”

“Sure! I won’t stand on ceremony then.” Li Zhou was a car enthusiast and was immediately overjoyed. The keys were already in the ignition, so he didn’t need to ask; he scrambled into the driver’s seat and began poking around excitedly.

Once the initial rush faded, he looked back and saw Bo Nan still smoking. Leaning against the car door, he asked, “Old Bo, why are you still at it? Which one is that?”

“Second one.”

“When did you start smoking?” Li Zhou tilted his head. “By the way, the wind tonight feels a bit… strange.”

Bo Nan looked at him sideways. “Hm? Strange how?”

Li Zhou paused, seemingly unable to comprehend why he had suddenly blurted that out. “Nothing. Just a passing thought.”

Bo Nan crushed the cigarette under his heel. “Let’s go.”

“You got it! Boss, please get in!”

The bar was one they frequented often, and knowing Bo Nan was coming, they had reserved a second-floor private booth. Li Zhou had assumed that when Bo Nan organized a gathering, it would involve at least four or five people, each bringing a date—the loud, crowded kind. Instead, he found just the two of them in the booth. Even the server was a man who dropped off the drinks and left without a second glance.

“Where is everyone?” Li Zhou was stunned, looking longingly at the crowd dancing on the floor below. “Didn’t you say we were drinking?”

“Just us.” Bo Nan sank into the sofa. Once the door closed, the heavy bass from the first floor faded to a muted, quiet hum. As he got “older” (internally), he no longer enjoyed the noise.

Li Zhou instantly crossed his arms over his chest, looking horrified. “Wait! Old Bo! I’m making it clear right now—I’m not gay!”

Bo Nan looked at him with pitying eyes and said nonchalantly, “I am. That’s enough.”

“F*ck!”

“Just kidding.” Bo Nan gave a lazy yawn. “If you don’t want to sit here, go down and play. Don’t worry about me; I don’t have much energy today.”

“You don’t have energy but you still came out to drink?”

“I felt like it.”

“Fine, you win.” Li Zhou studied Bo Nan, and once he was sure Bo Nan didn’t have any serious business to discuss, he stood up. “Then I’m going down. Have someone call me if you need anything.”

Bo Nan nodded. “Tab’s on me tonight.”

Li Zhou gave a thumbs-up and quickly dove into the dance floor like a fish returning to water. Within seconds, Bo Nan lost track of him in the crowd.

The kaleidoscopic lights turned the people below into flickering shadows. People swayed their limbs to the music, the darkness stripping away their societal chains and allowing them to release the selves buried by the daylight.

Bo Nan watched for a while until he found it boring. Unknowingly, he finished three cocktails. But they were like juice with low alcohol content; he drank them effortlessly without feeling a hint of a buzz.

He lit another cigarette and wandered out toward the restroom. Near the entrance, he saw a young girl in a sequined dress being harassed by a man. Her dress had been pulled halfway off her shoulder.

As Bo Nan walked closer, he heard a sharp slap. The girl clutched her face as the man grabbed her hair, dragging her along.

This sort of thing happened often in bars. Sometimes it was an unlucky patron; sometimes it was a hostess being “disciplined.” Bo Nan didn’t care which she was. As the three crossed paths, he reached out, grabbed the man’s wrist, locked his thumb over the joint, and snapped it downward with force.

A bone-chilling crack echoed. Bo Nan, with the cigarette still in his mouth, said lazily, “Didn’t your mother teach you to be nicer to girls?”

The man clutched his hand and howled. Before he could even curse, Bo Nan had already summoned the security guards. “I’m taking this girl. If there’s a problem, have your manager find me in 202.”

Anyone who could book a private booth on the second floor was either wealthy or powerful. The two guards exchanged a look. “Yes, sir.”

The man tried to protest, but a guard stepped in, saying politely, “Sir, please do not strike female customers in this establishment.”

The man glared at Bo Nan, his lips curling into a silent curse. “202, right? Just you wait!”

“Sure. I’ll wait,” Bo Nan replied flatly. Once the man was gone, he turned to the guards. “Take her out, call her a cab. If she has friends, take her to them.”

He pulled out five hundred yuan and handed it to the guards, then turned away without giving the girl a second look. He really needed the restroom; even a goddess wouldn’t interest him right now—besides, he was gay. If it were a handsome man, he might have been inclined to offer more comfort.

“Thank you!” the girl called out as she was led away. Bo Nan didn’t look back but waved a hand to show he heard.

After finishing his “personal business,” he didn’t run into the manager. Instead, he met someone unexpected.

Qian Cheng kicked open the door to Bo Nan’s booth, followed by a group of rowdy young men. Seeing Bo Nan sitting there alone, he sneered, “Heh, so it is you, Second Young Master Bo!”

The man whose wrist Bo Nan had just broken was standing right behind Qian Cheng, looking at him with murderous intent.

“Young Master Bo is quite the philanthropist now, even meddling over a ‘chicken,'” Qian Cheng said, making himself at home in a single armchair. “Well, what a coincidence running into you here.”

Bo Nan held a colorful cocktail, sipping it slowly. “If I didn’t know your family was in the steel business, I’d think you just crawled out of a sewer after a meal.”

The implication was clear: Your mouth stinks.

“Bo Nan, I call you ‘Young Master Bo’ out of respect for your family. You’d better learn some rules.” Qian Cheng crossed his legs. “You let my fun get away. Drink three glasses to apologize, call me ‘Daddy’ three times, and we’ll let this go.”

Bo Nan almost replied “Good son,” but he decided he didn’t want a son like Qian Cheng. Too embarrassing.

His lips curled into a perfect smile that looked like pure mockery to Qian Cheng. “Young Master Qian, your manners are… interesting.”

“Bo Nan, don’t you f*cking dare refuse my kindness!” Before Qian Cheng finished, Bo Nan splashed his drink directly into the man’s face. Qian Cheng instinctively closed his eyes, but they still stung from the alcohol.

“Qian Cheng, I’m giving those words back to you.” Bo Nan remained calm, as if he weren’t the one who had just acted. He stood up. Everyone thought he was leaving, but to their shock, the refined-looking young master grabbed a bottle from the table and smashed it over Qian Cheng’s head.

The bottle shattered. Qian Cheng’s vision went black. Bo Nan held the jagged neck of the broken bottle, the sharp edges tracing a line from Qian Cheng’s eyelid down to his jaw, resting right against his Adam’s apple.

“I’ve tolerated you for a long time, you idiot.”

Qian Cheng recovered and roared, “If you have the guts, do it! I’d respect you then! What are you trying to prove, Bo Nan?!” He looked at his group. “Beat him!”

The sycophants behind him were stunned. They knew who Qian Cheng was, but who was this guy who didn’t fear him at all? They’d beat a commoner without a second thought, but this person? If things went south, the followers were always the first to be sacrificed. They didn’t move.

“I really don’t have the ‘guts’ to kill you,” Bo Nan said, his eyes flickering as he let go of the bottle. Qian Cheng flashed a triumphant grin, which was immediately erased when a heavy fist slammed into his stomach. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t beat the hell out of you.”

It was a heavy blow. Bo Nan didn’t hold back. The smile was still on Qian Cheng’s face as he lost consciousness. Bo Nan stood up, grabbed his things, and looked at the manager who had finally rushed in. “Put the damage on my tab. Tell Young Master Li to drive himself home. I’m leaving.”

The manager looked at the unconscious Qian Cheng on the sofa and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Young Master Bo… will Young Master Qian be alright? This is hard for us to explain…”

“He won’t die.” Bo Nan waved him off and exited the bar.

He left through the back exit. He remembered there was a night market alley behind this bar with a great barbecue stall.

After walking a few steps, Bo Nan felt a sudden wave of lethargy. He was too lazy to even take another step. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette.

The night sky was a heavy black, devoid of stars or moonlight. Nearby, a dim streetlight attracted swarms of moths. Further down the alley was the brilliant light of the city, loud and bustling.

Qian Cheng… it’ll probably happen tomorrow, he thought.

The bar’s back door opened again. Bai Yanggui stepped out and saw Bo Nan leaning against the wall, smoking.

His footsteps faltered. Even in the dim light, the other man’s exquisite features were striking. Bo Nan’s gaze fell on him, calm and thin—bringing to mind poetic descriptions of distant mountain mists.

Bai Yanggui looked at him and thought… Wow, his business must be really good.

He wondered if he’d ever have the chance to be a “customer.” He wasn’t gay, but looking at this man, he felt he could be.