After the breakup, I was taken in by a group of trendy young women.

In the underworld, face is more important than anything else.

The scarred man winced in pain when Lin Ye twisted his finger, but he was even more pained by his face.

Under the old locust tree, the dominoes on the dominoes table were still scattered. Four shirtless brothers stood behind them. The old man selling watermelons at the supermarket entrance craned his neck, and even the lady at the fruit shop next door put down her calculator.

With so many people watching, his fingers were broken by a young man in his early twenties. His third brother had been on this street for twenty years and had never lost face like this before.

But my fingers still hurt; the feeling of being constricted by steel bars lingered in my bones like a warning.

He clutched the finger that had been twisted and was now swollen and purplish-red, like a sausage soaked in soy sauce.

The bald, fat man behind him whispered, "Third Brother, why don't we just let it go?" He was then shoved aside.

But he didn't move forward, nor did he point to the forest again.

He stood there, caught in a dilemma, unable to move forward or backward.

go?

I've completely lost face.

Keep?

The finger marks on my wrist still hurt.

Bai Xiaojing stood three steps behind Lin Ye, her mouth agape in an "O" shape.

She had been standing in front of the scarred man like a little bomb, ready to fight him to the death, but now, seeing Lin Ye with one arm around Shen Qing and the other prying open his fingers, she was completely dumbfounded.

She had seen Lin Ye's generosity when paying rent, his decisiveness when kissing her at the night market, and his sharp tongue when confronting Zhang Qian at the mall entrance, but she had never seen him lay a hand on her.

Just now, she took her hand out of her pocket, grabbed the other person's fingers, and pried them up—the whole sequence of movements was so smooth and fast that it was over before she even had a chance to blink.

The cigarette that the tattooed man had been holding in his mouth fell out.

It didn't fall to the ground; it stuck to her lips for a moment before falling off. The cigarette ash landed on the koi fish tattoo on her arm, but she didn't even notice.

She had roamed this street before, seen fights, and even gotten into fights herself, but she had never seen a fight like this before—unhurried and unhurried, as casual as unscrewing a bottle cap.

The most outrageous thing is that he used his other hand, the one that was holding Shen Qing, never letting go from beginning to end.

Zhang Jingjing's canvas shoes stepped on Pink Hair's instep, and Pink Hair grimaced in pain but didn't utter a sound because she was also stunned.

Green Hair stood next to her, his eyes wide.

Qi Liuhai covered Wangcai's eyes, while his own eyes were wider than a cat's.

Shen Qing was in Lin Ye's arms, her face still buried in the crook of his shoulder, but her body had stopped trembling.

The fear she felt when the scarred man grabbed her arm was dispelled by the sense of security she felt when Lin Ye embraced her. Now, hearing the scarred man howling in pain, the corners of her mouth curved slightly at an angle unseen by anyone.

The scarred man took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and forced out a few words: "Kid, do you know who I am? This street—"

"Shut up."

When Lin Ye said those two words, his tone was exactly the same as when he said "let go" and "come here"—neither too loud nor too soft, neither too fast nor too slow, as if he were giving an order for something very ordinary.

Then he stretched out his foot and hooked the tip of his slipper onto a plastic stool under the dominoes table next to him. With a gentle hook, the stool slid half a circle on the ground and stopped right behind him.

He put his arm around Shen Qing and sat down.

The plastic stool, bearing the weight of two adults, creaked in dissatisfaction but did not collapse.

When Shen Qing was helped down, she instinctively reached out to hold his shoulder, only to realize that she was sitting not on a stool, but on his lap.

She sat sideways on Lin Ye's lap, half of her body leaning against his chest. His right hand was still around her waist, his palm pressed against the inward curve of her waist.

The oversized white T-shirt slipped up a bit as he sat down, revealing a small patch of skin on his side. Lin Ye's hand happened to be covering that spot, and the warmth of his palm seeped through his skin, hotter than the midday sun.

Her face was already as red as it could possibly be, burning from her ears to her neck, and from her neck to her collarbone; even the pale, glowing skin above her collarbone had turned pink.

But she neither stood up nor pushed him away.

She simply buried her face in his shoulder again, her fingers gripping the hem of his T-shirt even tighter than before.

Lin Ye sat on a plastic stool, and Shen Qing sat on his lap, her body heavy, warm, and soft in his arms.

Her breath brushed against his collarbone, each breath carrying the scent of shampoo, and her hair tickled his chin.

This position allowed him to clearly feel every curve of her body. Her waist was so slender that he could wrap his arm around it with one hand, but the part above her waist was pressed against his chest. That soft, full weight made his heart beat at least 30% faster than when he was prying the scarred man's fingers.

Damn, this girl's figure is truly outrageous.

He cursed inwardly, but showed nothing on the surface.

He looked up at the scarred man who was still standing there, and the corners of his mouth curved into a playful arc.

"This is your chance."

His voice wasn't loud, but everyone under the old locust tree could hear him clearly.

It wasn't yelling or cursing; it was a confident, nonchalant tone, like talking to a child who had made a mistake.

"It's not like I'm going to kill you, I'm just asking you to apologize to my woman."

He pronounced the words "my woman" very clearly, each word sounding as if it had been hammered out on an anvil.

Shen Qing trembled in his arms, her fingers gripping the hem of his T-shirt even tighter.

My woman.

The way Lin Ye said those four words was on a completely different level from when the scarred man said, "You're her boyfriend."

She could tell.

The scarred man's face changed from liver color to ashen, and then from ashen to grayish-white.

Two hard lumps bulged in his cheeks, and his back teeth clenched so hard they made a grinding sound.

Apologize?

Apologize to a little girl in front of everyone on this street?

Does his third brother even care about his reputation?

But the young man sat on a plastic stool, legs crossed, with an incredibly beautiful girl sitting on his lap, speaking in a light and casual tone as if he were saying, "The weather is nice today."

Bai Xiaojing finally closed her open mouth.

She watched Lin Ye sitting on the plastic stool with his arm around Shen Qing, the heartbroken man she had picked up from the curb, the man whose ex-girlfriend complained that he couldn't pay his rent, the koala frame that they had piled on the broken sofa so they couldn't turn over.

He was sitting on a plastic stool with a beautiful woman on his lap and five burly men intimidated by him standing in front of him.

She suddenly felt a dryness in her throat.

The tattooed man picked up the cigarette he had dropped from the ground, put it back in his mouth, but didn't light it.

She nudged Zhang Jingjing with her elbow and whispered, "See? I told you our brother is a decent guy."

Zhang Jingjing's gaze was fixed on Lin Ye, and she murmured, "Is this what you call a decent person? Is this what you call a decent person? He can break someone's fingers and still make them apologize, and he can still hold Shen Qing and not let go?"

Green Hair finally put down the shoe he had been holding up for so long and said in a low voice, "Cool."

Pinky nodded vigorously beside him, like a chicken pecking at rice.

Qi Liuhai took Wangcai out of his backpack and hugged it, realizing that bringing this cat today hadn't been in vain.

Shen Qing shifted on Lin Ye's lap, raised her face, and looked directly at the scarred man for the first time.

Lin Ye said loudly, "In the underworld, face is more important than anything. But you started it today, and there are so many people watching. If word gets out, you'll be in the wrong."

Lin Ye's tone suddenly turned cold, so cold that it sent chills down the scarred man's spine. "Asking you to apologize now is giving you a way out. If you don't even accept that, then you really won't be able to stay on this street anymore."