The Honest Man’s Counterattack 2003
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Vol. 1 Ch. 10 Table of contents

"Ms. Guo, please accept these. These are free-range eggs from our own chickens—very nutritious!"

Zhao Changhe spoke effusively as he placed a basket of eggs on the office desk. He continued, "I’m counting on you to help Zhao Feng during this final sprint before the college entrance exams. Please keep an eye on him—he’s too honest, and his one-track mind makes him prone to overthinking."

Guo Damei felt her head spinning. She could almost see a flock of crows circling above her. It finally dawned on her—Zhao Feng’s parent had shown up, carrying a huge basket of farm-fresh eggs, no less, and had delivered them right into the senior-year teachers' office in front of all her colleagues.

No way.

This has to be a dream. I must still be asleep. Asking the parent to come in and give Zhao Feng a talking-to wasn’t supposed to result in this—a basket of eggs, and such a massive one at that. Did they have to make sure everyone noticed?

"Mr. Zhao, you need to take these back. I can’t accept them," Guo Damei politely declined.

"They’re from my own free-range chickens. They didn’t cost a cent, so there’s no reason for you to refuse," Zhao Changhe insisted.

"I really can’t accept them. It’s against school policy. Please take them back," Guo Damei said helplessly, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

"This is just a token of my appreciation. Whether you want them or not, you’re taking them," Zhao Changhe said stubbornly.

"It’s a matter of principle. I can’t accept them," Guo Damei argued.

"You must take them. If you don’t, I’ll deliver them straight to your home," Zhao Changhe declared resolutely.

The two went back and forth, pushing the basket of eggs between them. The spectacle of their tug-of-war became quite the scene.

The other teachers watching nearby were thoroughly entertained and started whispering among themselves.

"Wow, so that’s Zhao Feng’s dad. He’s quite the lively character."

"Zhao Feng’s an honest kid, and his father seems just as stubborn and bull-headed. Poor Ms. Guo’s in for it."

"Ms. Guo really has it tough. Yesterday, Zhao Feng made her so angry she cried. And now today, here comes Zhao Feng’s dad."

Hearing the chatter from her colleagues only made Guo Damei sweat more. She felt like an ant on a hot griddle, panicking as Zhao Changhe’s persistent determination overwhelmed her. Honest people, when serious, could be terrifying. She was starting to deeply regret calling Zhao Changhe in the first place. Why did she have to summon this stubborn bull of a man?

"I said I won’t take them, and I mean it. I have no classes in the afternoon and will come back during self-study tonight. I’m leaving now," Guo Damei exclaimed.

Nearly in tears, she turned and fled the office. She had initially planned to demand a written apology from Zhao Feng, but with Zhao Changhe’s interference, that plan was completely forgotten. She bolted down the stairs.

"I can’t deal with you, but at least I can escape from you," she muttered to herself.

"Ms. Guo, slow down! If the eggs break, it’ll be a shame!"

She hadn’t gotten far from the teaching building when Zhao Changhe’s voice called out from behind. Turning back, she nearly spat blood—Zhao Changhe was chasing after her with the basket of eggs, now less than 20 meters away.

"Don’t follow me! I’m going back to my dorm. I will not take the eggs," Guo Damei said, frustrated.

"No problem. If you won’t take them, I’ll just follow you. You’ll have to take them eventually," Zhao Changhe replied calmly.

He was relentless, his personality unyielding and indefatigable. Once he set his mind to something, he wouldn’t back down. Zhao Feng had said Ms. Guo should eat some free-range eggs, so he was determined to deliver them, no matter what.

By the office window, the other teachers were having the time of their lives, thoroughly enjoying the drama.

Students in Class 3-1 also noticed the commotion. Jin Fugui, watching from their window, called out, "Feng-ge, come look! Uncle Zhao is chasing Ms. Guo!"

Zhao Feng walked over with a perplexed expression. Standing by the window, he looked down to see Zhao Changhe, basket in hand, energetically chasing after Ms. Guo. The two were bickering and pulling at each other as they left the school grounds.

"Oh my God," Zhao Feng groaned, covering his face in embarrassment. Scenes from certain comedic dramas flashed through his mind—his father looked more and more like a villainous uncle, chasing after someone with a basket of eggs.

What on earth is going on? The plan was to deliver the eggs and leave. How did this escalate into chasing Ms. Guo out of the school?

White Jiaxin approached and, pointing at the retreating figures of Zhao Changhe and Ms. Guo, asked curiously, "Is that your dad?"

Zhao Feng nodded reluctantly. "The teacher called for my parent, so my dad came."

White Jiaxin broke out in a cold sweat. "Your dad is amazing. He actually scared Ms. Guo into running away."

Zhao Feng had no response. Embarrassed, he returned to his seat, unable to comprehend what his father was up to. Why couldn’t he just leave the eggs and go? How did this turn into a scene where Ms. Guo, usually so fierce, ended up running away like a mouse from a cat?

The afternoon passed with four classes and a self-study session in the evening.

Zhao Feng diligently worked through practice questions. The first three classes flew by, and no teachers dared to provoke him. After witnessing Zhao Changhe’s determined behavior, none of them wanted to risk incurring his wrath—or being delivered a basket of eggs.

Zhao Feng’s newfound reputation was such that if a teacher upset him, he could simply have his dad deliver eggs to their office, forcing them into an awkward retreat just like Ms. Guo.

By the third period, Zhao Feng and Jin Fugui decided to skip class. They ditched the fourth period and the evening self-study session entirely, heading to the largest arcade in town to enjoy some games.

At the Baoma Arcade, the spacious hall was filled with over a hundred arcade machines, and the place was teeming with people.

The two sat side by side, engrossed in the classic game Three Kingdoms: The Arcade Game. Zhao Feng played as Zhang Fei, while Jin Fugui chose Guan Yu. They had just cleared the Changban Slope level and were now competing in the bun-eating mini-game, their joysticks spinning and buttons mashing furiously.

"You were lucky yesterday. Let’s see if you can win again today," Jin Fugui teased.

"Once we finish this, we’ll add some credits and try again," Zhao Feng replied with a grin.

"This place is the biggest arcade in town. They say someone once walked out with tens of thousands in winnings. Do you think that’s true?" Jin Fugui asked.

"Sounds fake to me. Just a marketing gimmick," Zhao Feng said skeptically. He didn’t believe the exaggerated claims.

As the sun set and the sky darkened, Zhao Feng wandered over to the slot machine section, joining a crowd eagerly watching in anticipation. The room buzzed with chatter and the occasional burst of excitement. Then, suddenly, the arcade erupted into chaos.

The sound of slot-machine music filled the air:

"Life is like the waves of the sea, sometimes up, sometimes down…"

The iconic tune of "Love to Win" played from a machine as colorful lights flashed.

"Jackpot! Someone hit the full star cycle on the fruit machine!"

The crowd surged forward, their jealousy and admiration palpable. Zhao Feng rushed over to witness the spectacle—an old-fashioned fruit slot machine flashing with dazzling colors, its music reverberating through the arcade.

"Time Rewind."

Zhao Feng snapped his fingers and muttered under his breath.

The scene around him rapidly rewound—objects moved back into place, people walked backward, and in the blink of an eye, the clock turned back three minutes. Zhao Feng found himself once again seated in front of the King of Fighters '98 arcade game, with Jin Fugui still chattering beside him.

"Feng-ge, you’re no good either. Insert another coin and let’s go another round," Jin Fugui urged.

"I’m done," Zhao Feng replied decisively, standing up and striding over to the counter.

Behind the counter sat the arcade owner—a bald man in his thirties with a fierce demeanor. His presence demanded respect despite his silence. Around his neck hung a thick, gleaming gold chain, as chunky as a dog’s collar. He wore a loud floral short-sleeve shirt, the unbuttoned front exposing his beer belly and a menacing tiger-head tattoo. It was clear he was not someone to mess with.

"Boss, load 50 points onto the fruit machine," Zhao Feng said decisively, slapping 50 yuan onto the counter.

"Alright," the bald man said. He stood, revealing his towering height of nearly 1.8 meters. Broad-shouldered and muscular, he exuded intimidation as he made his way to the fruit machine. Ignoring the young man with yellow-dyed hair who was about to place a bet, he loaded 500 points onto the machine.

"Alright, the boss has loaded points. If you want to bet, play another machine," the bald man declared.

The yellow-haired youth, who had just won on an orange bet, wisely moved to another machine without complaint.

Zhao Feng sat down at the fruit machine, glancing at the countdown on his watch. Earlier, while playing King of Fighters, he hadn’t seen what the previous round on the fruit machine had yielded before the "Starry Sky" cycle was triggered. Now, he had to rely on the countdown timer to make his move.

The machine’s screen displayed symbols: apples, oranges, melons, bells, watermelons, double stars, "77," and the jackpot prize of 100 points.

To bide his time, Zhao Feng casually placed a small bet on an apple, slowly letting the seconds tick away. As the timer approached the three-minute mark, he clenched his teeth, knowing he couldn’t wait any longer. He wagered all his remaining points and hit the start button.

Suddenly, the fruit machine’s lights all lit up, and a motivational song began to play:

"Losing hope for a time doesn’t mean giving up,
Facing hardships doesn’t mean you’ve failed."

"Life is like waves on the sea,
Sometimes rising, sometimes falling.
Good luck, bad luck,
You must keep moving forward.
Three parts are destined by fate,
Seven parts depend on effort.
Victory comes to those who dare to fight!"

The fruit machine entered the "Starry Sky Cycle," with the points in the top-right corner skyrocketing. In no time, the total reached 10,000 points.

In an instant, the machine hit the jackpot.

The arcade erupted in excitement as players swarmed around the fruit machine, crowding around both the machine and the lucky Zhao Feng.

The bald boss’s expression darkened as he swaggered over, flanked by two green-haired youths. He eyed Zhao Feng from head to toe with a predatory gaze and spoke in a cold, measured tone: "Kid, you’ve got some good luck. You weren’t at Wan Jia Arcade yesterday, were you?"

Zhao Feng’s mind buzzed, but his face remained calm. With a composed smile, he shook his head and replied, "Of course not. Yesterday, I was at the pool hall. Boss, I’d like to cash out now—10,000 points is 1,000 yuan, right?"

The bald man’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he slowly pulled out a wad of 100-yuan bills, leisurely counting them. "It’s good that you weren’t at Wan Jia. Anyone caught cheating in Baoma Arcade won’t walk out on their own two feet again."

Zhao Feng forced a laugh. "Boss, you’re quite the comedian."

The bald man handed over the stack of cash but added a thinly veiled threat, "You’re lucky today, kid, but luck doesn’t last forever. Everyone has their bad days. Be careful—you wouldn’t want to end up unable to take care of yourself."

Zhao Feng didn’t bother counting the money. He stuffed the cash into his pocket, clasped his hands respectfully, and said, "Thank you, Boss." Without missing a beat, he turned and quickly left the arcade.

The bald man watched him go with a faint, sinister smile, arms crossed over his chest.

One of the green-haired youths leaned in and whispered, "Tiger Bro, letting him go is too easy. I’ll go take it back."

The bald man, "Tiger," shook his head. "Forget it. We’re running a business here—profits and losses come with the territory. Besides, I’ve already warned him. He won’t dare come back again. Did you take the photo?"

The green-haired youth nodded. "Yeah, the Sony DSLR worked great—crystal clear."

Tiger’s expression turned cold. "Send his photo to every arcade in the city. If this kid dares to show up at Baoma or anywhere else again, make sure he really can’t take care of himself."

[--------------------------------------------]

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