The next day, I was still waiting at the school gate. I refused to believe Big Lazi and the She-Devil were permanently teamed up. What kind of man hides behind a woman? Pathetic.
Big Lazi never showed, but the She-Devil did.
She swaggered up to me, a toothpick dangling from her lips, swaying with every step. I glared at her, fury burning in my eyes. This was the girl who had framed my father for assault, and now she was coming after me. Clearly, there was no avoiding this feud.
"Not bad for a rapist's son," she sneered. "Got some guts, huh? Too bad you ran like a bitch yesterday. Come on, let’s see how tough you really are. Show me that famous belt of yours."
So Big Lazi had told her about the belt. Now she was throwing it in my face.
I stayed silent, staring her down. There was nothing to say—I was here for Big Lazi, not her.
I wanted revenge, but I couldn’t just attack her outright. I needed proof she’d lied about my father.
"What, cat got your tongue?" She smirked. "Think I won’t hit you at the school gate? You’ve got some nerve. I’d beat your ass in the middle of class, let alone out here."
I knew she meant it. She feared nothing, and her brutality was why so many were terrified of her.
The name "She-Devil" wasn’t just for show.
When I still didn’t respond, she snatched a rope from one of her lackeys and lashed out. I wasn’t fast enough to dodge—the rope cracked across my face, splitting my lip. Blood dripped down as my skin burned.
I turned away, only for the next strike to land on my shoulder, pain shooting through me.
She knew I wouldn’t hit a girl, so she went all out, ruthless.
I turned my back, bracing for more. As long as she didn’t aim for my face, I could take it. Maybe this was payback for the belt I’d used on Big Lazi.
Then—*smack!*
A sharp slap rang out behind me. I spun around to see a girl gripping the She-Devil’s wrist with one hand while the other delivered another stinging blow to her face.
"You’ve got some nerve!" the stranger snapped. "Harassing a guy at the school gate? What did I tell you when you took over? My rules—no messing with boys. You recruited Big Lazi yesterday, and today you’re here for revenge? You’re really asking for it!"
The She-Devil cowered, head bowed. "S-sorry, Boss. I was wrong. It won’t happen again."
I was lost. Who was this girl, and why was she hitting the She-Devil?
She didn’t look like a student—dressed in casual chic, with bold earrings, dark lipstick, and heavy makeup. A blazer over a white blouse, skinny jeans, and sleek black heels.
Tall, too. At six feet, I barely had an inch on her in those heels.
Girls this height were rare in Ruili.
Hearing the She-Devil call her "Boss," I guessed she was the former leader—graduated three years ahead of me.
She caught me staring and smirked. "Not bad, kid. Heard you taught Big Lazi a lesson yesterday. What happened today? Let her beat you like this?"
"I don’t hit girls," I said.
"Some girls need hitting," she countered, jerking her chin at the She-Devil. "Break the rules, pay the price." She yanked the rope from the She-Devil’s hand and shoved it at me. "She hit you. Give it back."
I gripped the rope, my face and back still throbbing. If this were Big Lazi, I’d have lashed him without hesitation. But I wouldn’t—*couldn’t*—strike a girl, even my enemy. There were other ways.
I dropped the rope. "Forget it. I can take a few hits. Just tell her to stay out of my way."
She raised an eyebrow. "Damn, you’ve got principles. Lucky for you, I’m free today. Skip class—let’s get tea."
Without waiting for an answer, she dragged me off, leaving the She-Devil and her gang gaping after us.
My ragged clothes made me stick out next to her. I lagged behind, avoiding the awkward contrast.
She glanced back. "Scared of me or something? Keep up."
I forced a smile. She knew why.
"Lan Ya," she said. "Graduated last term. You’re new, so you wouldn’t know me."
I’d guessed right—the former boss, the She-Devil’s predecessor.
*Lan Ya.* An elegant name, at odds with the cruelty it must have commanded.
But no former leader was innocent. To rule, she must have been just as brutal. I’d already seen her ruthlessness firsthand.
I had no idea where she was taking me, but I wasn’t planning on going to class anyway. Nowhere to be except the gem stalls.
Near an old wooden shop in the market district, she pointed upstairs.
Close to the jade stalls—after tea, I could still meet my mentor to practice cutting stones.
The teahouse’s first floor held only a counter and a small lounge; seating was upstairs.
I’d never been to a proper teahouse. Didn’t know people went to special places just to drink tea.
Lan Ya dismissed the server and took the seat reserved for the host, starting the water boiler.
From a container, she pulled two cups, a lidded bowl, and a wide-mouthed pitcher. She rinsed everything with boiling water, refilled the kettle, and set it to boil again.
Then she added tea leaves to the bowl, rinsing them over and over before finally pouring the brew into the pitcher and serving me.
A single sip’s worth—barely enough to wet my tongue.
Why drink tea like this? If you were thirsty, you’d die waiting.
She worked in silence, methodical.
When I lifted my cup, she said, "This is Pu’er from ancient trees over a century old. Naturally fermented for fifteen years. Sold by the gram—price of gold."
Gold was about a hundred *yuan* a gram. We’d just brewed several hundred bucks’ worth.
I didn’t know why she told me this. It wasn’t bragging—just a signal she took this meeting seriously.
Why would a dirt-poor kid like me matter to her?
My father used to say, *Ears are for listening. If you don’t understand, stay quiet—speaking only shows ignorance.*
Of course, that was before our relationship became nothing but curses and beatings. He didn’t teach me anything anymore.
Today had left me completely baffled. But if she wasn’t talking, neither would I.