Chapter Sixty-Two: The Effeminate Yang Chenjun

Before long, Liu Fan and Long Yanyu arrived at the university gate. As soon as they stepped outside, they spotted a black Audi parked nearby. Standing in front of the car were two men waving at Long Yanyu. One was Wang Zhenguo, whom Liu Fan had rescued earlier; the other was dressed in a designer suit and tie. This second man was quite handsome, nearly as tall as Liu Fan, but his every gesture seemed affected, and the heavy scent of his cologne could be detected from afar, giving him an air more reminiscent of a dandy than a man on a mission. In fact, to use the parlance of the internet, he resembled a poser more than anything—his appearance suggested he was here to flirt, not work.

The two men strode purposefully toward Long Yanyu. Before she could even introduce them, the man in the suit hurried to Long Yanyu’s side, his face alight with ingratiating enthusiasm. “Oh, Yanyu, you were gone so long! Are you tired? Look, you’re all sweaty from the sun. Why don’t I wipe it off for you?” he said, raising his handkerchief with a delicate gesture, not waiting for her consent, as if ignoring everyone else.

Long Yanyu found his behavior revolting. She sidestepped his hand, her expression darkening with displeasure. “Yang Chenjun, I’m warning you again—we are not close. Please stop calling me Yanyu. I have a proper name.”

Yang Chenjun seemed undeterred, in fact growing bolder. “Now, Yanyu, that’s not fair. We grew up together—childhood friends. It’s only natural I call you that. Besides, our families are close, and your mother has always hoped our families might be joined by marriage. How is that wrong?”

It turned out the Yang and Long families had been friends for generations, though the Yangs were traditionally merchants and the Longs a martial family. In times past, when the Longs fell on hard times, the Yangs aided them, forging a bond of gratitude. However, during the years of war and chaos, business became difficult and the Yangs declined.

Meanwhile, the Longs, as a martial family, followed the founding emperor in unifying the country. After the nation was established, the head of the Long family rose to general through military merit, gaining prestige. With the founding leader’s support, the Longs gathered martial experts to form a special operations group, now known as the Dragon Squad. Because the Longs maintained strict neutrality and answered only to the nation’s top leader, this powerful force remained under their family’s control.

In time, as those with supernatural abilities emerged, the Longs’ grip on the squad weakened, but their influence remained unmatched. The family’s low profile, however, meant they gradually faded from public view, and their ties with the Yangs became more tenuous.

Nonetheless, the Yangs, leveraging their legacy and the Longs’ reputation, quickly amassed wealth during the era of economic reform, eventually creating the Yang Group, which by 2000 had become one of the world’s top 500 conglomerates and one of the nation’s ten great families.

But as the saying goes, great success is often followed by decline. The last two generations of Yang family heads were mediocre, and the family’s business share shrank, making them desperate for strong allies. Hence Yang Chenjun’s efforts to renew the families’ connection, hoping to stabilize his family’s fortunes—and his motives for joining the Dragon Squad were equally self-serving, aiming to get close to Long Yanyu.

“My mother’s wishes are her own,” Long Yanyu replied coldly. “I will never agree to this. Don’t bother me, and stop using such familiar terms. We are nothing beyond colleagues. Please address me by my full name or as Major Long. Understood?”

She had hoped that making her stance clear would make Yang Chenjun retreat, but instead he grew even more insistent. “Yanyu, can’t you treat me better? Did you forget how you used to trail after me as a child, begging me to teach you martial arts, swearing you’d marry a great hero like me when you grew up? Have you forgotten all that?”

Being reminded of her old childhood embarrassments in public made Long Yanyu blush. Her annoyance toward Yang Chenjun only deepened. The flush faded quickly, replaced by an icy expression. “Yang Chenjun, those were ten years ago. I was a ten-year-old girl, blindly idolizing you. I’ve grown up and learned to see things clearly. I will never marry you, so you might as well give up.”

Yang Chenjun’s face turned ashen with agitation. He shouted, “Why? Am I not good enough, or is your heart already taken? Tell me!”

Long Yanyu’s expression remained unmoved. “Yes, I admired you as a child. But what have you done these past ten years? You abused your family’s power and your sect’s reputation, causing trouble everywhere. You hit someone with your car and, rather than help, ran them over again to finish the job, then used money to cover it up. Any girl you fancied fell into your hands. How many girls have you ruined, how many lives have you taken? Have you ever counted? Aren’t you afraid of nightmares? The caring, protective brother I knew has become a tyrant—a butcher with blood on his hands. And you still ask why?”

Yang Chenjun had believed that by showing enough concern and martial prowess before Long Yanyu, she would fall for him as she did in childhood, and with her grandfather’s support, reviving his family would be guaranteed. He never expected his every misdeed to be so thoroughly exposed, nor that his own conceit would blind him.

But humans are selfish by nature, rarely blaming themselves for their mistakes, and Yang Chenjun was no exception. Instead of shame, he became indignant and barked, “Those poor wretches deserved to die. Their families got a fortune out of it and are better off! As for those women, they didn’t know what was good for them. I tried to be kind; they forced my hand! In the end, they took the money and begged for more. And don’t act so pure yourself—you just like that country bumpkin!” With that, he jabbed his finger at Liu Fan.