I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping Chapter 2189 - 1399: Asking for Monthly Tickets! (2)
Previously on I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping...
Certain folks simply fail to separate fact from fantasy and refuse to adapt to the modern world.
“Boss, Young Master Gong is here.”
Time dragged on painfully slow until the private room door swung open, and the bodyguard outside announced it right away.
Xiao Daxi, the little brother, rose to his feet without thinking,
“He’s finally arrived! Brother, let’s hurry and welcome him.”
“No need to rush.”
Zhong Xiaoye let out a quiet sigh of relief, now relaxed, and stood up leisurely before his junior, straightened his attire with ease, then headed out.
This was all about forging alliances.
Not about backing down and embarrassing oneself.
The little brother Xiao dashed after him.
Beyond the private room, Zhong Xiaoye had men posted at the Kyoto Hotel’s entrance too; that’s how they spotted the car pulling up instantly.
Though he claimed no hurry, Zhong Xiaoye actually hurried down the stairs at a solid clip. He seemed to stroll casually without haste, yet his little brother Xiao struggled to match his stride.
“Get out of the way.”
Ground level.
At the spot where the elevator met the lobby, a woman approached straight ahead. The frantic little brother Xiao lunged forward on impulse, aiming to shove her aside,
Despite her cascading long hair, soft and alluring vibe, and undeniably captivating looks.
But stunning ladies? He’d encountered tons; the escorts from Haojiang were legendary, merely playthings they offered.
Old habits die hard.
Accustomed to strutting boldly in Haojiang, little brother Xiao automatically reached to brush off the woman in his path, overlooking that this wasn’t his turf in Haojiang—it was Kyoto.
Even in Kyoto, pushing a regular person on the sidewalk would bring no repercussions.
The issue was, this spot was the Kyoto Hotel.
Suddenly, a menacing presence flared up. Little brother Xiao, battle-hardened from brutal fights, picked up on the danger at once, but he acted too late.
The long-haired woman shrugged off his shoulder, smoothly blocking his grab, then seized his arm in a twist and hurled him back with force.
Over-the-shoulder throw!
Towering close to six feet and tipping the scales at 160-170 pounds, bulkier than Sister Luck, little brother Xiao flew through the air like that. With a heavy “thud,” he crashed down like a sack of dirt, his features contorting in agony, the look alone screaming unbearable torment.
Zhong Xiaoye’s face shifted, frozen for a beat, then he glared sharply at the woman.
This revealed his real self—the polished act was just a mask.
The woman who’d quickly handled little brother Xiao now faced Zhong Xiaoye, her wordless stare sending a shiver through even the worldly Zhong Tingwang, silencing him entirely.
Naturally, the Kyoto Hotel caught wind of the disturbance, and elite security like commandos rushed over. Noticing the tension hadn’t boiled over, they held back for now.
Stirring up trouble at the Kyoto Hotel was an oddity.
Yet if it occurred, protocol called for letting patrons sort it out first. Only if needed would staff jump in.
“Miss, isn’t assaulting someone improper?”
Zhong Xiaoye kept his composure, though his quivering lips betrayed his inner turmoil.
Ever since claiming the throne as Haojiang’s King, who had dared to disrespect him like this?
He held onto his reason.
Back in Haojiang, this woman would surely regret her life choices forever.
Zhong Xiaoye showed restraint, but he couldn’t predict that the daring woman would brush him off completely, striding on after the strike as if it were trivial, planning to walk right past him.
Zhong Xiaoye grasped the balance of humility and standing firm to some degree, yet limits exist for all.
As the proverb goes, even punishing a dog requires considering its master.
Staying quiet after his subordinate got thrashed in public—how could he hold his head high?
“Halt!”
As she passed, Zhong Xiaoye commanded icily.
Little brother Xiao, tough as nails, felt like he’d been truck-struck, yet hadn’t made a peep so far. He stayed down, huddled and clenching his jaw, his quiet suffering hitting even harder.
“Don’t you owe an apology?”
Zhong Xiaoye eyed his writhing little brother on the floor.
“He provoked me first.”
The woman paused at last, offering that as her response—though it felt awfully curt.
So just because little brother Xiao initiated, he deserved near-death?
Did she not grasp self-defense versus overkill?
Naturally.
From her looks and poise, she didn’t strike as hot-tempered, but there’s that old line.
—Women endure moody days each month.
And little brother Xiao unluckily crossed her during one.
“Is that your excuse?”
The offhand reply stung like a slap, and Zhong Xiaoye wasn’t one to swallow insults.
Thoughts of rallying his crew for payback burned hotter.
“What’s your demand?”
Short and to the point.
Far too blunt, really.
Were Kyoto natives all this overbearing?
Zhong Xiaoye’s gaze turned stormy, almost chuckling from rage.
“Miss, without your clarification, I’ll have to seek it on my own.”
His words carried a clear warning.
Spotting the brewing trouble, the veteran security whispered into his comms.
Upstairs.
“Knock, knock, knock...”
Someone rapped on the private room door.
Jiang Chen assumed it was Hu Die and glanced over, only to see a hotel employee instead.
“Mr. Jiang, your downstairs guest has clashed a little with another party.”
Kyoto Hotel barred uninvited entry.
Reservations were mandatory.
Hearing this, Jiang Chen felt taken aback.
Though he hadn’t delved deep into dealings, he viewed the man as... remarkably steady.
Plus.
They were at the Kyoto Hotel.
Right by Chang’an Street, with government offices staring across.
“Is that so?”
Youmao looked stunned too.
“One of them took a hit.”
“Who’s involved on their end?”
Curiosity piqued after the shock, Youmao inquired.
“Zhong Xiaoye.”
“Who?”
“Zhong Xiaoye.”
The staff member restated.
“Who’s Zhong Xiaoye?”
Youmao scratched his head in confusion, as Boss Jiang went quiet.
This was truly...
Quite intriguing.
“I’ll check it out. Jiang Chen, joining me?”
Youmao stood.
Jiang Chen shook his head. “I’ll pass.”
“Fine, I’ll fetch him for you.”
Youmao replied breezily, then exited. “Show me.”
Downstairs.
The standoff lingered.
Come on.
At minimum, summon medics first.
Leave the guy sprawled there?
Zhong Xiaoye skipped calling backup in the end, since brawls wouldn’t fix things, and right then, his important guest for the occasion entered, catching this messy display.
Yet another elite from the Imperial City halted, seemingly unprepared.
“Master Gong.”
Spotting him, Zhong Xiaoye rushed over to greet, his tone booming.
Home turf issues called for local solutions.
Simultaneously.
It could strengthen ties between them.
That Master Gong’s eyes flickered with doubt briefly, but he chose to advance and assess. As he moved to step, a small figure from the elevator side halted him cold, then his foot dropped back softly and firmly.
“What’s going on...”
Maybe Jiang Chen’s warm reception that day loosened Youmao up excessively, ignoring all caution, grabbing the spotlight and drawing every eye.
Hu Die, facing this direction, had noticed her ages ago and remained unmoved by the drama, while Zhong Xiaoye, who turned instinctively, creased his brow.
Who was this kid from?
After all, being an outsider, she lacked grasp of Kyoto’s elite ways.
“Hey, picking on ladies?”
Forget average guys—even Zhong Tingwang couldn’t withstand Youmao’s strike, innards shaking, blood roiling.
Poor eyesight?
Couldn’t tell if the downed one was male or female?
“Gong...”
Fury boiled in Zhong Xiaoye as he whipped around again, but oddly, Master Gong who’d stood right there was gone.
Looking closer, he hadn’t vanished but headed for the hotel’s front doors, leaving a baffling outline.
Forgot something in the vehicle?
He could retrieve it anytime.
“Master Gong!”
Shame, bitterness, wrath... a storm of dark feelings rode the shout, exploding outward.
Zhong Xiaoye amplified his call, but the outcome
—that distant shape sped away quicker.