Rebirth: Slice-of-life Cultivation Chapter 1651 - 900: Unable to Cross the Line (2)

Jiang Ning assigned him to Boss Yang at 150 yuan per day—not so he could slack off and enjoy himself!

The instant Xingxing heard "back kitchen," overwhelming disgust filled him, and he retorted: "If you want to go, you go. I want to go to the strawberry garden!"

Then, he strolled away alone, utterly carefree.

Dongdong abruptly found himself in sole command.

His face darkened as fury exploded within, his mind screaming: ’I’ll beat him to death! Beat him to death!’

No sooner had the wicked idea surfaced than a fearsome demon loomed in his thoughts—merciless, brutal Jiang Ning!

Dongdong shook his head vigorously: ’Jiang Ning made me deputy manager; I can’t strike anyone!’

Soon, a smart idea struck Dongdong: ’Exactly, as deputy manager, I can correct my underlings, and Xingxing’s the full-timer Jiang Ning gave me!’

This realization hit Dongdong like a burst of clarity lighting up the world!

"Halt right now!" he bellowed in rage.

Hearing the shout, Xingxing stopped in his tracks and twisted back with a fierce glare at Dongdong.

Xingxing paid no heed to the chubby kid; after all, he was just nine. Xingxing was older, hung out with the tough guys at net cafes, street-smart, and carried real clout.

"What’re you babbling?" Xingxing dug into his ear.

"Come with me to the back kitchen, or I’ll thrash you!" Dongdong threatened.

Xingxing’s expression iced over: "You? Who do you think you are!"

Fuming that a hick kid dared bark at him, Xingxing strode right up to Dongdong, set to give him a pounding.

Xingxing charged with full force, shoving both hands at Dongdong.

Yet Dongdong remained rooted like an enormous boulder, utterly unshakable.

Xingxing froze in shock.

Back in class, bullying fat kids had always been a breeze for him. He wasn’t full delinquent, more like a wannabe thug.

This can’t be right!

He balled his fist and hurled it at Dongdong.

Dongdong lumbered into motion, resembling a ponderous Ultraman beast, his sturdy legs stomping ahead to wrap Xingxing in a bear hug.

Xingxing sensed the powerful grip.

In the blink of an eye, he soared through the air.

Whoosh! He crashed down! A ham-sized fist smashed into his face.

At first, Xingxing flailed his arms frantically and kicked wildly, but soon he was sobbing from the beating.

It stung like fire! Not even his father had ever walloped him this hard!

"You doing it or not? You doing it?" Dongdong demanded.

How could a kid have such grit? Desperate to stop the pummeling, Xingxing wailed: "I’ll do it, just stop hitting me!"

Dongdong rose off him and gazed down at the formerly cocky boy now broken. Memories flooded back of Jiang Ning’s words during his own thrashing.

With a sneer, Dongdong echoed: "I still like you better when you’re unruly!"

…

Though Mr. Qian quibbled over pennies, he freely imparted wisdom.

Perched on a grandmaster chair, he cracked pumpkin seeds:

"Ruyun, let me emphasize: it’s not about leaning on family background. Drawing from decades in teaching, parents shape a kid’s outlook, mindset, problem-solving, and access to resources."

Zhang Ruyun’s mind reeled from listening: "How’s that any different from relying on parents?"

"Precisely why, at university, you’ll encounter them—watch and absorb from those types," Mr. Qian explained.

Zhang Ruyun mulled it over: "True, our minister outshines me in skills, plus his home’s well-off."

Mr. Qian nodded approvingly.

Right then, a brown Porsche Cayenne rolled up from the bungalow’s west flank.

"Oh, that must be the Bi girl’s ride; word is it costs one or two million!" Mr. Qian noted.

Once parked, a trio emerged from the vehicle.

The family leader, a grim-faced middle-aged man who’d visited days prior—Director Han—led, trailed by a refined youth and a plush mink-coated lady.

As the woman exited, a massive, ripped, pure-white square-jawed dog leaped from the door.

Zhang Ruyun immediately pegged the white dog’s breed: "Dogo Argentino!"

His dad, Butcher Zhang, adored dogs and kept all sorts, so Zhang Ruyun picked up breeds through hearing and watching.

"See that youth? He embodies the success archetype I mentioned…" Mr. Qian gestured.

Before he could wrap up, Zhang Ruyun yelled urgently: "Ba Wang, Ba Wang!"

Damn! Dogo Argentino’s a savage breed, bred for combat. Once, picking dogs with his father, Zhang Ruyun saw one rip a neighbor’s pet to shreds—trauma lingered.

Ba Wang was his backup.

Ba Wang was out wandering somewhere; the call went unanswered.

Anxiety gripped Zhang Ruyun. Even tamed, a killer dog retains primal urges.

"Over there—the grub’s decent," Director Han directed Mrs. Chen and son Han Chen.

Prior visit, Director Han ate hastily, skipping the star mushroom soup, leaving him irked. He’d dismissed the spot, but his ex-boss raved about River Dam Farmhouse’s unique soup.

For a veggie lover like him, the pull was irresistible; Director Han fumed at missing it!

Han Chen, Director Han’s boy, eyed the bungalow curiously and abruptly noticed Jiang Ning sunning himself by the door.

Recognition hit him at once.

The day before, Han Chen and Lou Keke traveled to Nan City, witnessing her chat with Jiang Ning. They flew business; he economy—business triple the price, worlds apart.

Han Chen smirked inwardly: ’Economy makes sense now—he’s river dam local!’

To Han Chen, river dam trips were rare escapes with Dad; for others, everyday grind.

"Interesting," Han Chen remarked, dismissing Jiang Ning as any rival.

Xue Yuantong huddled near Jiang Ning, ear-whisper range. She breathed: "What an ugly mutt, uglier than Xiao Ben!"

Jiang Ning eyed the Dogo Argentino—exotic stock, unlike local brute Xiao Ben. "Xiao Ben’d weep if he heard," he quipped.

Xue Yuantong went quiet, struggling to picture mighty Xiao Ben as a crybaby.

Mrs. Chen spotted her skittishness, then sized up Zhang Ruyun, smirking triumphantly.

Wherever Doudou trotted, awe followed.

Director Han strode forth sternly, eyes appraising below; Mrs. Chen sniffed haughtily; young Han Chen trailed, gaze upward, aping parents.

This clan exuded otherworldly divide, like separate species.

Just the Dogo Argentino nosed about, claiming turf.

Slowly, they receded into distance.

Zhang Ruyun exhaled deeply, eyeing their retreating forms enviously, tone mixed: "Gotta be officials, huh? Such commanding aura."

Mr. Qian, who’d cited the youth earlier, caught the nuance in Zhang Ruyun’s voice—mirroring his own youth amid elites.

"Ruyun, etch this phrase in mind," Mr. Qian counseled.

Noting Mr. Qian’s gravity, Zhang Ruyun straightened: "Teacher, speak it!"

Mr. Qian’s eyes pierced decades back, addressing his past self: "When beneath others, see yourself as a person; when above others, see others as people."

"Never demean yourself."

Zhang Ruyun reflected briefly, then nodded sagely: "Got it, teacher."

"Excellent!" Mr. Qian beamed.

Next, he offered Zhang Ruyun a palmful of roasted pumpkin seeds.

Mr. Qian’s volume let Xue Yuantong catch it. Grasping ’when beneath others…,’ she impulsively messaged dimwit Chen Siyu: "Hey, get it?"

Chen Siyu fired back right away: "Wow, what kind of position is that?"