Chapter 393: I Really Don’t Believe It

Translator: Tim Editor: GlobeGlotter

Li Qiuyang wasn't a core member of the Li family, but his experience and achievements were gradually bringing him into the inner circle. At that moment, he was dining with several individuals of considerable status. The evening's focus, however, wasn't Li Qiuyang, but Li Chunsheng. Though sharing the Li surname, Li Chunsheng had no connection to the Beijing Li family. Li Qiuyang was there to cultivate a relationship on the family's behalf.

Li Chunsheng's recent promotion to vice-mayor of He Feng City, a major metropolis, was significant, even to the Li family. However, the family's interest stemmed primarily from Li Chunsheng's considerable abilities. He'd achieved his position without the backing of any powerful faction—a feat everyone recognized as remarkable. Placing Wu Ze under Li Chunsheng was a clear show of support.

Li Qiuyang's invitation to Li Chunsheng and several Beijing officials aimed to draw Li Chunsheng closer to the Li family. But then, a call interrupted him, infuriating Li Qiuyang. It was an anonymous caller—a stranger who clearly obtained his number illicitly. He was furious. Who dared give away his number without permission?

His anger initially propelled him toward hanging up, but the number's peculiarity—a digit short of a standard number—gave him pause. It seemed too simple. He answered.

“May I ask who you are?” The unusual number didn't automatically signify importance; Li Qiuyang had seen much, and he was a significant figure in the Li family.

“Young Master Li, we’ve met. I require your assistance. Are you free to meet at my current location?” Ye Mo’s voice was level.

Li Qiuyang’s fury surged. Who was this man? Presuming to demand his help after just one meeting? Worse, expecting Li Qiuyang to travel to him. The audacity! Even a scion of one of the five great families wouldn't act so entitled. And the voice sounded young.

Just as Li Qiuyang was about to retort, Ye Mo said, “It’s Ye Mo. I’m at Wu Tong bar.”

“What—” Li Qiuyang swallowed his words, a wave of shock washing over him. Ye Mo? He asked hesitantly, “You are Young Master Mo? Beijing’s Ye Mo?”

“Yes, that’s me—” Ye Mo’s call abruptly ended.

Li Qiuyang stared at his phone, devoid of anger. Only disbelief, and a touch of elation. It had been Ye Mo. A profound sense of honor, yet also pressure, filled him.

Ye Mo looked at his phone, sighing, “Dead battery again. I have to charge this thing every few months. So troublesome.”

Wu Ze and the others exchanged glances. Charging every few months was troublesome? They charged daily.

…

Li Qiuyang quickly grasped the situation. This was his opportunity. He stood, apologizing to Li Chunsheng. “Mayor Li, I’m so sorry; a friend needs me at Wu Tong Bar. I must go immediately.”

Everyone had witnessed his initial irritation, but the swift shift from anger to joy, surprise, and anxiety was also noted. Those present were astute; they surmised the caller was highly significant. Li Qiuyang's immediate departure, even for a dropped call, spoke volumes.

“Qiuyang, who could it be, if even you must rush off?” a middle-aged man asked dubiously.

Li Qiuyang seemingly ignored him and rose.

“Young Master Li, may I accompany you?” Li Chunsheng asked with a smile.

Li Qiuyang hesitated. “Since Mayor Li wishes to join, then come.”

Two others also expressed interest, but Li Qiuyang demurred. “He only requested me. Too many people might displease him.”

He and Li Chunsheng swiftly left the restaurant. The pot-bellied man seemed to realize his mistake, discomfort evident. The lively table fell silent as the others departed, leaving him isolated.

…

“Young Master Li, was it Ye Mo of the Ye family?” Li Chunsheng, with years of experience in Beijing and keen political instincts, deduced the identity from Li Qiuyang’s demeanor. Only the legendary Ye Mo could elicit such a response.

Li Qiuyang nodded gravely. “Yes, Mayor Li, it is. He appreciates authenticity. Be yourself.”

Excitement shone in Li Chunsheng’s eyes. “Understood. Thank you for this chance; please, call me Chunsheng.”

“And I’ll call you Brother Sheng. Qiuyang is fine. I may need your help in the future,” Li Qiuyang replied, believing his mission with Li Chunsheng was accomplished. But his greatest gain was Ye Mo’s invitation—a path to true independence within the Li family.

Li Chunsheng was equally excited. Though lacking precise details, he knew Ye Mo’s power. If he were to align himself with a faction, it would be Ye Mo, not some powerful family—though he knew the chances were slim. This opportunity, however, was not to be missed, even at the cost of close ties with the Li family.

Witnessing Ye Mo's direct summons, Cheng Changhui and Zhou Ping were dumbfounded. Li Qiuyang’s status, though unknown to them personally, was clear: a core Li family member, far above them.

Wu Ze remained impassive. He knew Ye Mo’s power would be substantial, otherwise he wouldn't have given Li Qiuyang's number, risking his own position.

Ye Mo quickly plugged in his phone. If Li Qiuyang couldn't handle this, he'd seek Elder Han's help.

“Ye Mo, what are you doing?” Shi Xiu reacted, looking at Ye Mo.

Ye Mo was about to answer when his expression hardened. He looked toward the door.

A loud crash—the door was violently kicked open.

A youth with triangular eyes stood there, flanked by four men in black. He coldly addressed Ye Mo, “You’re the one who beat up Qiu Zhizhe?”

“And who are you? Who authorized you to breach this room?” Wu Ze stood and yelled, accusingly pointing at the youth. He assumed they were from the Qiu family.

The youth glanced at Wu Ze. “Wu, don’t think Li Qiuyang will fight the Qiu family for you. You overestimate yourself. I can crush you like an insect.”

Wu Ze was speechless. He knew the youth was right; Li Qiuyang wouldn't fight the Qiu family for him. If offered sufficient compensation elsewhere, the Li family might sacrifice him.

Ye Mo, however, responded simply, “I really don’t believe it.”