Chapter 75: This Is Too Absurd!!**
The private room fell eerily silent.
Liu Qingyang stared down at his teacup, as if studying the quality of the tea with intense focus. Chen Liyun fiddled with her phone, her head never lifting. Liu Wei tilted her chin, gazing at the ceiling like she was suddenly considering a career in interior design. Wu Yifan, legs crossed and arms folded, looked halfway to dreamland.
"Hey, it's not you, right?" A voice broke the silence—loud, brash, and unmistakably Song Mingjie's. "You're old enough to be my mom. Sure, you've got that 'mature' vibe, but I'm into jailbaits. They're way more fun to play with."
Since Wu Yifan and Liu Wei had their backs to the door, Song Mingjie hadn't recognized them. His beady eyes landed on Chen Liyun, then widened in exaggerated horror.
Chen Liyun's lips twitched. She fought to stay calm, shifting her gaze to the man behind Song Mingjie. "Old Song, your son is certainly… one of a kind."
The middle-aged man trailing in looked like a fatter, older version of Song Mingjie. He wore a sky-blue suit stretched tight over his belly, waddling as he walked. This was Song Longteng—Song Mingjie's father, the judge who'd handled the "alcohol poisoning incident" weeks back.
He raised a hand and smacked Song Mingjie upside the head. "You little bastard! Your mouth is filthier than a sewer! What did I tell you at home? Be polite! We're civilized people! But no—you spew garbage. I oughta kick your ass!"
Everyone in the room broke into a cold sweat. *Like father, like son.*
Song Mingjie rubbed the back of his head, shooting his dad a幽怨 look. "Did you? I don't remember."
"Ahem—of course I did!" Song Longteng sputtered. "I said civilized people speak nicely. Look at you—talking nonsense. You'll get us killed!" He turned to Chen Liyun, forcing a grin. "Ms. Chen, pay him no mind. He's just… rambling. The boy's got his head up his ass half the time."
Chen Liyun felt lightheaded. She'd heard rumors: Song Longteng, the "Honest Judge" of Beitian City—stern, upright, a modern-day 包青天 (Bāo Qīngtiān, Judge Bao, a legendary figure of justice). But in person? He was cruder than a street thug.
She managed a weak smile. "No harm done. Please, sit."
"Hey, Dad, you called her 'Ms. Chen'? So she's not the chick you set me up with?" Song Mingjie squinted, confused.
"Hell no! That girl's way younger—" Song Longteng froze, then backtracked, "—I mean, Ms. Chen is lovely, of course! Timeless beauty! Everyone adores her!" His forehead glistened with sweat. The room felt colder, like杀气 was seeping from the walls.
"Old Song, sit. Don't stand on ceremony," Chen Liyun said, her voice tight, her eyes sharp as a drawn sword.
Song Longteng chuckled nervously, yanking Song Mingjie into a chair. "Old Liu, this is my no-good son, Song Mingjie. He's… well, he reads books, helps run family businesses, enjoys operas and ballets. Us old folks can't keep up with young people's hobbies, y'know? Let 'em do their thing."
*Pfft!* Song Mingjie, who'd just taken a sip of tea, spat it out.
"Operas? Ballets? C'mon, Dad. I only watch A片 (A piàn, adult films). Those Japanese chicks? *Chef's kiss.* Tits, ass—perfect. Makes you wanna take a bite." He leered, rubbing his hands.
"Ah, youth! They're more open-minded than we were," Song Longteng said, his face turning green. He shot Song Mingjie a death glare, silently begging him to shut up.
"Exactly! Stuff like that's way more fun. People like Ai Iijima, Yuki Sazanka, Madoka Ozawa—total pros. Got tons of their best hits on my laptop. We should swap notes sometime. Helps with… y'know, marital harmony. Better sex, better kids, better society—win-win!" Song Mingjie said, grinning like he'd just solved world peace.
Liu Qingyang and Chen Liyun gaped, speechless.
Song Longteng smacked his forehead. "You little shit! Are you trying to ruin me? Who talks like that?!"
"How else am I supposed to talk?" Song Mingjie rolled his eyes.
"Ugh…!" Song Longteng was too angry to speak.
Liu Wei suddenly burst into giggles. "Who knew Song Mingjie could be so cute? Impressive. How many adult films have you binged lately?"
"Not many—only thirty or so. But these days, they're all the same: just mindless thrusting. No creativity. We should debate it sometime. Oh, wait—you're the blind date chick?" Song Mingjie looked up, then froze.
"Hi there," Liu Wei said, smiling sweetly.
"Hi…? *You?!*" Song Mingjie's legs wobbled. He looked like he might bolt.
"Small world, huh? Guess today's our lucky day," Wu Yifan said, grinning like he was watching a comedy.
"Brother Wu? You're here too?!" Song Mingjie perked up, waving.
Wu Yifan nodded lazily, then pointed at Song Mingjie and Liu Wei. "This is your blind date. Go nuts. I'll just… observe." He patted his stomach, sheepish. "Any chance we can get food? Skipped breakfast."
Liu Qingyang and Chen Liyun exchanged a无奈的 (wúnài de, helpless) look. This wasn't a blind date—it was a circus. Their side had faked a relationship; the Song side had brought a walking disaster. At least there were no strangers around to witness the chaos.
Liu Qingyang, ever the diplomat, recovered first. "Of course. Since you all know each other, no need for introductions. Let's eat—talking over food is more relaxed."
He signaled the waiter, and within ten minutes, the table was heaped with dishes: crispy duck, braised pork ribs, stir-fried shrimp, and a pot of steaming hot and sour soup. The room filled with the aroma of spices and simmering sauce.
Song Mingjie grabbed a drumstick, gnawing on it as he leaned toward Wu Yifan. "Brother Wu, what're you doing here? If I'd known the date was *her*, I'd have hidden in the closet."
Wu Yifan, mouth full of rice, mumbled, "She felt the same. Scared of meeting some creep, so she roped me into being her fake boyfriend."
"For real? You agreed to that?" Song Mingjie's eyes widened.
"Begged me. You know me—I'm a softie. Can't stand tears. Caved like an idiot," Wu Yifan said, grinning.
"Brother Wu's a legend. Even敢 mess with *her*. Respect," Song Mingjie said, saluting with his drumstick.
Wu Yifan had heard bits of Liu Wei's "adventures" from Chen Liyun, but Song Mingjie's terror piqued his curiosity. "Is she really that scary?"
"Hell yeah! Haven't you heard? Beitian's got two she-tigers. One's Fu Junyao, the police chief from Minhe District. The other's *her*." Song Mingjie shivered. "Both are暴躁, love throwing punches. Who'd marry that? I don't wanna end up in a domestic violence documentary."
Wu Yifan blinked. So Liu Wei had a reputation? A "warrior among women," indeed.
Song Mingjie finished his drumstick, popping a piece of fish into his mouth. He glanced at Liu Wei, then whispered, "Brother Wu, she's kinda nice to you. Why not make it official? Save us poor folks from her wrath."
"Poor folks? *You're* a poor folk?" Wu Yifan's mouth twitched.
"What? I'm a model citizen!" Song Mingjie puffed out his chest.
"If *you're* a model citizen, pigs can fly," Liu Wei said coldly, not looking up.
"W-what's that supposed to mean?" Song Mingjie stammered.
Liu Wei just哼了哼 (hēng le hēng,哼了哼, snorted), her fingers tightening around her chopsticks. They creaked faintly—*creak, creak*—as if she were squeezing Song Mingjie's skull instead.
The room fell silent again. But this time, it wasn't awkward. It was charged—like a storm was brewing.
Wu Yifan grabbed another rib, grinning. *This is gonna be good.*