92: Chapter 92 The Peerless Hero Riding on Seven-Colored Clouds

Zhang Fan leaned against the corridor wall with his arms crossed, a mocking smile playing on his lips as he gave Song Zhiwei a look that seemed to say, "Look at these clowns." Song Zhiwei returned a faint glance, ignoring Ruan Shu.

Only then did Blondie sober up completely. Rubbing his temples, he stood up and looked at the commotion at the door with a dazed expression. "What's everyone standing here for? Is the bill settled? How about we go for a second round? I know a KTV nearby with a great sound system!"

"To hell with your second round!" Pei Yunxiao was already fuming, and Blondie's words instantly set him off. He pointed at Blondie's nose and cursed, "If it weren't for you ordering that damn 620,000-yuan bottle of wine, would we be in this mess?!"

Ruan Shu quickly pulled Pei Yunxiao back, cursing Blondie eight hundred times in her head.

Why did he have to sober up now and say something so brainless?

She forced herself to stay calm and advised, "Young Master Pei, don't be angry; now isn't the time for arguing. Why don't you... call your father and mother and ask them to help out with the emergency first?"

When Pei Yunxiao heard the words "father and mother," his expression darkened even further. His jawline tensed, and a wave of unbearable embarrassment surged in his eyes.

But his parents were merely the Song family's driver and nanny. With the meager salaries they earned, where would they get the money for an emergency?

Moreover, his father had long since become a drug addict and was always broke; his mother was a compulsive gambler, and most of the family's money went into the casino's bottomless pit. The couple could barely make ends meet only because Song Zhiwei had been secretly supporting them.

What made him even more terrified was that if his father found out he had broken up with Song Zhiwei and lost their only source of support, his father's violent temper would surely result in him being beaten to death.

He abruptly shook off Ruan Shu's hand and stared at Song Zhiwei with bloodshot eyes, as if grasping at his last lifeline.

Before Song Zhiwei could speak, Pei Yunxiao rushed forward and grabbed her arm, his nails almost digging into her flesh. His tone was full of command and threat: "Song Zhiwei! Haven't you had enough?! Pay the bill already! Don't make me lose face in front of so many people!"

Pei Yunxiao's fingers were like iron pincers, gripping Song Zhiwei's arm so tightly that his nails almost sank into her skin. He leaned into her ear and lowered his voice, yet it was heavy with a commanding threat: "Song Zhiwei! Haven't you had enough? Pay the bill already! Don't make me lose face in front of so many people!"

He still held onto his old illusions, thinking that as soon as he lost his temper, Song Zhiwei would compromise just like before, regardless of who was right or wrong, and silently clean up his mess.

But the sensation from his fingertips was different; Song Zhiwei's arm was tense, without a hint of her former submissiveness.

In the next second, Song Zhiwei's body suddenly trembled slightly, her face turned pale, and a flash of confusion appeared in her eyes, as if she were trapped by something—it was that damn intelligence-lowering halo!

That cursed "Low-IQ Halo" was acting up again! Even with Zhang Fan by her side, she thought she could resist it, but she hadn't expected that as long as Pei Yunxiao touched her, that power controlling her consciousness would return. The familiar urge to submit surged up again, almost making her agree to pay the bill.

At this moment, Song Zhiwei's eyes were filled with terror, as if a horrific memory had been triggered. In her past life, Pei Yunxiao had grabbed her arm just like this, dragging her into the storage room of Zhanghua Mountain Villa, punching and kicking her to force her to sign the Song family's equity transfer papers.

"Let go of her!" Zhang Fan's voice suddenly turned cold. Before Pei Yunxiao could react, he had already stepped forward, gripping Pei Yunxiao's wrist and throwing him aside with a slight exert of force.

Pei Yunxiao stumbled back a couple of steps and crashed into the doorframe, grimacing in pain.

Immediately after, Zhang Fan reached out to pull Song Zhiwei into his arms, gently patting her back as his tone softened: "Don't be afraid, I'm here."

Buried in Zhang Fan's embrace, the faint scent of cedarwood lingering around her nose, that warm power felt like a barrier,

slowly dispelling the chaos brought by the halo. In a daze, she felt that the Zhang Fan before her was like a peerless hero in Golden Sacred Armor, riding on seven-colored clouds, reaching out to pull her back just as she was about to be swallowed by darkness.

Her consciousness gradually returned. She looked up at Zhang Fan with eyes that held a hidden trace of dependence she hadn't even noticed herself, in addition to her gratitude.

Clutching his aching wrist, Pei Yunxiao wanted to step forward to argue, but he was glared back by a cold look from Zhang Fan.

The pressure in that gaze didn't have the greenness of a student; instead, it carried a bit of the ruthlessness of someone who had survived in society. He subconsciously shrank back—he suddenly remembered Song Zhiwei saying that Zhang Fan ran a tech company. How could a boss capable of establishing himself in Jiangcheng be someone to mess with?

Everyone around was stunned. Manager Liu stood to the side holding the bill, a look of understanding growing in his eyes.

Ruan Shu clutched the hem of her clothes, her face pale, her previous arrogance completely gone.

Li Na and Wang Ting held up their phones, wanting to film but not daring to, for fear of bringing trouble upon themselves.

Zhao Ya was still counting on her fingers how many zeros followed 10 million. Seeing the situation when she looked up, she quickly hid her fingers behind her back.

Once Song Zhiwei had completely regained her composure, she stepped out of Zhang Fan's embrace, straightened her skirt, and looked at Pei Yunxiao again. Her gaze was as cold as ice, and the mockery in her tone was like a poison-tipped needle: "Young Master Pei, you organized this dinner, you invited the people, you chose the place, and you ordered the expensive dishes. Why on earth should I pay?"

Pei Yunxiao's face turned the color of pig liver, and his expression became distorted: "Song Zhiwei! Don't push your luck! What exactly do you want?!"

"I don't want anything." Song Zhiwei gave a light scoff, intentionally waving the primary card in her hand. "I just find it funny—it's only 870,000. Isn't Young Master Pei the child of the richest man? How can you not even afford a meal?"

These words were like a slap to Pei Yunxiao's face. His mouth twitched a few times, and he looked troubled—where would he get 870,000? Damn it! His parents were just servants at the richest man's house.

As if seeing through his embarrassment, Song Zhiwei suddenly changed the subject, looking at Li Na, Wang Ting, and the others with a playful tone: "How about this, Young Master Pei's dear classmates, why don't you all chip in a bit to help him through this crisis? Once his parents unfreeze his cards, he'll surely pay you back double. After all, Young Master Pei is so 'generous'."

Li Na and the others immediately looked at each other, their eyes full of hesitation. Wang Ting quietly tugged at Ruan Shu's sleeve and whispered, "Where would I get that much money? I've almost spent all my living expenses for this month."

Li Na also nodded in agreement. "Exactly, it's 870,000. Even if we all chip in, it'll still be over a hundred thousand each. My family doesn't own a bank."

Zhao Ya shook her head even more directly. "My mom only gives me three thousand a month for living expenses; I can't come up with that."