Chapter 83: The Bartending Competition**
Wu Yifan, for all his roguish ways and disdain for spoiled brats, wasn't a complete villain. He'd never stoop to stripping someone in public, so the earlier bet fizzled out. But he *did* need to teach those arrogant kids a lesson. He'd smacked Tang Baoer's rear thirty or forty times—each crisp *crack* enough to make every man in the crowd catch his breath. Even Wu Yifan had to admit, her curves were surprising for someone so young—firm, perky, far more developed than most girls her age. It sent his thoughts wandering, his pulse quickening. If not for the risk of being labeled a pervert, he might've kept going—until her cheeks turned black and blue, until she'd learned her lesson.
"哼 (Hng, Humph). This is just a taste," he said, setting her down reluctantly, feigning a scowl. "Learn to keep your promises. Next time, I'll *really* make it hurt. Don't mistake my kindness for weakness—even Hello Kitty has claws."
Tang Baoer, once fiery and defiant, now stood red-cheeked, her face as hot as a ripe apple. She wanted to vanish into the ground. A girl, spanked in front of a crowd? It was mortifying, enough to break her. She cursed him a hundred times in her head, imagining ways to dismember him, to make him suffer. But deep down, she knew—even with her crew, they weren't match for his strength, his speed. So she bit her lip, glaring daggers, silently swallowing her pride. Revenge would come later.
"What? Still mad?" Wu Yifan raised an eyebrow, daring her. "Want another round?"
Her glare melted into panic. Another spanking? In front of everyone? She'd rather die. She turned away, her shoulders trembling.
Wu Yifan's gaze shifted to the others, cold as a blade. They flinched, shuffling back. The thought of being spanked by a man—*in public*—sent shivers down their spines. Rumors would spread: *"Brokeback Mountain in Beitian! Men spanking men at Red Leaf Square!"*
Satisfied by their fear, he nodded. "This stays between us. But if I catch you causing trouble again… it won't be just spankings."
Su Kang's group, usually so bold, nodded numbly, desperate for him to leave.
Wu Yifan waved to Song Mingjie, and they climbed into the Mercedes, peeling away from the square.
"That bastard! He *spanked* me! In front of everyone! I'll kill him!" Tang Baoer shrieked, once the car was out of sight, her fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her palms.
"He's too arrogant! We need to teach him a lesson!" Cai Qing snarled, still stinging from the humiliation of their loss.
"But Baoer," a giggly girl chimed in, "you just said 'if not in front of everyone'… does that mean it's okay if he spanks you *privately*?"
Tang Baoer's face flushed. "Shut up! He'd *never*—I'd kill him first!"
"Holy crap, Brother Wu! You're a *beast*! That spanking—*chef's kiss*! I've never seen someone so bold!"
Even back at Infinity KTV, Song Mingjie couldn't contain his excitement, repeating "holy crap" like a broken record. He'd met tough guys, rich guys, even dangerous guys—but none as versatile as Wu Yifan. This man could fight, drive, play basketball like a pro… and now, publicly discipline a spoiled princess? It was legendary.
"You know who those brats are?" Wu Yifan poured himself a glass of water, slouching in his chair.
"Them?" Song Mingjie paused, scratching his head. "They act tough, but I don't recognize 'em. Beitian's blowing up—new rich kids pop up every day. But mark my words: their parents aren't officials. No way."
Wu Yifan nodded, unsurprised. Spoiled kids came in two flavors: those with politician parents (like Song Mingjie and Zhang Hualei), who knew the unspoken rules of power, and those with rich businessman parents, who thought money solved everything. These kids reeked of the latter.
Song Mingjie plopped onto the tiny sofa—barely bigger than a toilet seat in his mansion—and stared at the cramped security booth. It baffled him. A man as talented as Wu Yifan could make millions doing *anything*. Why waste time here, guarding a KTV? Rumors swirled: he was here for Ye Xiwen. If true… respect. Tang Bohu chased Qiuxiang for months. Wu Yifan had stuck around for *years*. That was dedication.
"So… how's it going with Ye Xiwen?" Song Mingjie asked, wiggling his eyebrows. "She's been checking you out lately. I see the way she looks at you."
Wu Yifan smirked, playing mysterious. "You know what makes the best tea?"
"Huh? Tea?" Song Mingjie blinked. "Longjing? Maojian? Biluochun? Tieguanyin? Name it—I've got crates at home. Dad gets swamped with gifts. I'll bring you some. It's nothing special."
"Not *what* tea," Wu Yifan said, swirling his water, "but *how* you brew it. You need patience. Boiling water, slow steeping. Let the leaves release their fragrance, bit by bit. Only then—*perfect*."
"…And this relates to Ye Xiwen how?"
"Women are like tea," Wu Yifan said, grinning. "The hardest to win over? The most rewarding. What's the fun in a girl who'd sleep with you for a few hundred yuan? Courting's about savoring the process. Slow, tedious… but *worth it*."
"Brother Wu, you're a philosopher! That's deep," Song Mingjie said, genuinely impressed. "You're right. Cheap girls? No thrill. Just… release. No passion."
Wu Yifan leaned back, preening. "They say: the harder the chase, the sweeter the victory."
"Damn. Preach."
*"Is that so?"*
The door flew open. Ye Xiwen stood there, her face ashen, eyes blazing.
The temperature dropped 10 degrees.
Wu Yifan and Song Mingjie froze, their smiles evaporating.
*Crash!* Wu Yifan's cup shattered on the floor. Boiling water splashed his leg, but he didn't flinch.
Song Mingjie hurriedly stood up, nervously smiling in a low voice. "Er... Ye Zong! I, er, have to go! There's something urgent! Goodbye!" He ran off at top speed, almost tripping over his own feet.
Wu Yifan stood, forcing a grin. "Ye Zong! When did you—? Sit, sit! I'll get you water… uh, tea? No, water!"
Ye Xiwen sat, her jaw tight. Any woman would seethe hearing herself compared to "hard to win over" tea.
Wu Yifan fumbled with a cup, handing it to her. "Just… joking with Song Mingjie. Boredom makes us talk nonsense. Don't take it seriously."
She took the cup, her fingers trembling, and took a deep breath. "Qian Baoqing called."
"Qian Baoqing? That bastard? What now? Another disaster?" Wu Yifan tensed.
"Not yet. But soon. He's bringing his crew over. For the bartending competition. You know we don't have a *real* bartender here. We'll lose. Badly." A flicker of worry crossed her face, her voice tight with frustration.
Wu Yifan's smile faded. Qian Baoqing—another thorn in their side. This competition? It was a trap. And Infinity was walking right into it.
He leaned forward, his tone serious. "Then we'll find one. A good one."
Ye Xiwen shook her head, her shoulders slumping. "It's not that easy. Qian's got a pro. Some hotshot from Shanghai. We don't stand a chance."
Wu Yifan stared at her, then grinned—a wild, reckless grin.
"Who needs a pro?" he said. "I'll do it."
Ye Xiwen gaped. "You? You can bartend?"
He winked. "There's a lot you don't know about me."
Outside, the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. Inside, a new challenge loomed—one that could make or break Infinity.
Wu Yifan just hoped his smart enhancer had a "mixology" setting.
This was about to get interesting.