Chapter 1: Reunion

“Second Brother, save me! Big Brother paid the ransom, but they got greedy and even captured him. If we don’t pay on time, they’ll throw us into the Hudson River!”

Cha Kexing received a tearful call for help from his cousin just as he stepped out of Kennedy International Airport.

While negotiating the ransom amount and delivery method with the kidnappers, a red Aston Martin convertible slid to a stop in front of him. Seeing the man in sunglasses casually wave from the driver’s seat, Cha Kexing felt a pang in his chest, like a dog that hadn’t been home in a while being enthusiastically greeted by its family.

It hurt, but he couldn’t hit the dog.

“If we don’t get the money in ten hours, you can still see this delicate little young master, but you might need an embalmer to piece him back together, hahaha!” The kidnapper laughed in a way that perfectly fit a villain’s persona. Cha Kexing had to hold the phone away from his ear, and when he looked back, the call had already ended.

He got into the passenger seat, and before he could fasten his seatbelt, the car roared to life.

“Ah Xing, long time no see!” The man driving had a voice full of warmth, soothing Cha Kexing’s eardrums that had just been tormented by the kidnapper’s grating voice.

It was late autumn, and the man was only wearing a loose T-shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and baggy ripped jeans. His medium-length hair, slightly curly, was blown wildly by the wind, covering half of his face. The sunglasses couldn’t hide his high nose bridge. Handsome, passionate, and resistant to the cold, just like ten years ago.

“Brother Zheng, sorry to trouble you this time!” If it weren’t for his brother and cousin’s lives being at stake, Cha Kexing really didn’t want to contact this person who always left him emotionally scarred after each encounter.

The man raised an eyebrow and blew a breath near his ear, “Brother Zheng… sounds so distant. Why not call me Yao Yao?”

Cha Kexing pretended not to hear, anyway, the wind in the car was strong, and that breath didn’t reach him.

“The situation has changed, let me explain it to you again. Yesterday afternoon, my cousin and his lover were kidnapped at a bar in Queens. The kidnappers demanded ransom from my big brother, agreeing to deliver the money this morning—” He had already told Zheng Yao this yesterday.

Although his big brother, Cha Kecheng, swore he would handle it properly and safely bring his cousin Cha Qingle back to the country, Cha Kexing still felt uneasy. He took a fourteen-hour flight to get here, only to receive that call as soon as he left the airport.

“Now the kidnappers have also detained my big brother, giving me ten hours to prepare the ransom. Of course, that’s just the surface. The real situation is—”

“Your idiot big brother hired someone to kidnap your idiot cousin, and the kidnappers took it seriously and captured both of them.” Zheng Yao replied nonchalantly, “Did your Cha family ancestors’ graves boil underground water? Always bubbling with idiots.”

Cha Kexing wasn’t angry because he felt the same way. However, he preferred to internally mock the two as “Cha the Big Useless” and “Cha the Third Sissy.”

“Brother Zheng, you’re familiar with New York. How do you think we should handle this?”

“I’m also familiar with New York’s funeral homes. Do you prefer cremation or burial?” Zheng Yao made a sharp turn, driving off the airport highway into the city, “If we’re late, the bodies will be stiff, and it won’t be easy to dress them in burial clothes.”

Zheng Yao took Cha Kexing to an old villa deep in Manhattan’s Chinatown. It had its own gate and courtyard, with a dozen or so Chinese brothers sitting inside and out. When the two entered, they all stood up and respectfully called out, “Brother Yao! Brother Xing!”

Just like a scene from an old movie.

Cha Kexing unbuttoned his dark Loro Piana cashmere coat, slipped one hand into the pocket of his suit pants, and took a cigarette handed to him by one of the brothers with the other, nodding politely but with authority.

Zheng Yao glanced at him and mouthed, “Pretentious.”

Actually, there was no need to pretend. Cha Kexing was now the COO of a company with a market value of hundreds of billions, usually maintaining this enigmatic demeanor. But in Zheng Yao’s eyes, he was probably always just a tag-along little brother.

Zheng Yao’s father was once the president of the New York Chinese Chamber of Commerce, with connections in both legal and illegal circles. They found out that the kidnappers hired by Cha the Big Useless were of Latin American descent, not a big gang, just a bunch of small fry. But the smaller they were, the harder they were to deal with. And while the king of hell is easy to meet, little devils are hard to deal with. These people didn’t follow the rules and could do anything reckless in a moment of heat.

At this time, a brother asked, “Brother Xing, experienced kidnappers usually separate the hostages. If the situation is urgent, please set a priority.”

Cha Kexing appeared calm, but his heart was burning. Although his big brother Cha Kecheng was his half-brother and had embezzled company assets to plan the kidnapping to cover his debts, and his cousin Cha Qingle was his main competitor in inheriting the family business, always opposing him in the company—blood is thicker than water, and it would be best if neither of them got hurt.

However, if one had to die… Cha Kexing thought for a moment, then it should be his big brother. If Cha Kecheng died, the debt would be written off, and only his father would half-heartedly wail a few times. If Cha Qingle died, his grandfather, who favored him to the point of bias, would twist off his and his father’s heads and hang them on a helicopter rotor to shake out their brains to fill his precious grandson’s urn.

Fortunately, Zheng Yao was very capable. Within the deadline, he tracked down the kidnappers’ whereabouts, sent people to the designated location to deliver the ransom and stabilize the kidnappers, and took two carloads of brothers to the dense forest downstream of the Hudson River to rescue the two Cha family idiots.

In the car, Zheng Yao discussed the action details with the brothers, his decisive and steady demeanor making Cha Kexing feel a bit dazed. He was very similar to the arrogant, passionate, and flamboyant youth in his memory, yet also different.

Ten years ago, he often told Cha Kexing, “Fists and feet don’t have eyes, wait here for a while.”

Now he told Cha Kexing, “Bullets don’t have eyes, don’t get out of the car later.”

They arrived just in time, as the three hostages were already bagged and ready to be thrown into the river. The kidnappers were enjoying their final sadistic game, shooting randomly to scare them.

Cha Kecheng was screaming and rolling on the ground, twisting like a big ribbonfish just out of the water. Cha Qingle and his lover were tearfully confessing their love, saying things like “I love you, you love me, we’ll be together in the next life,” and even pretending to shield each other from bullets.

“Your brother is really cheesy!” Zheng Yao chuckled appreciatively. If it weren’t for the urgency, Cha Kexing suspected he would crack open a beer and watch the show.

“Brother Zheng… be careful,” Cha Kexing said softly.

Zheng Yao casually slapped him, not hard but not light either, the crisp sound making the nearby brothers glance over in surprise.

Cha Kexing, the CEO of a listed group, was completely indifferent to being slapped in public. Every slap he had ever received in his life was from Zheng Yao. In fact, he was already celebrating with champagne in his heart that Zheng Yao hadn’t stabbed him with a knife.

The brothers rushed out of the car, with Zheng Yao leading the charge. He was agile, leaping into the air and kicking a burly American man several times his size flying. After a chaotic fight, the larger group overpowered the smaller one, and the four kidnappers were tied up on the spot. A call came in, and the kidnappers who went to collect the ransom were also apprehended.

The matter was resolved perfectly. Although the three kidnapped individuals were covered in bruises, they were all superficial injuries, able to run and jump, and wouldn’t die.

Snowflakes began to fall from the sky, gray and dirty-looking. Cha Kexing casually opened a black umbrella and stepped out of the car, his custom-made leather shoes leaving footprints in the thin snow on the riverbank, exuding the aura of a behind-the-scenes boss. He thought Zheng Yao must be mocking him behind his back again.

His cousin Cha Qingle grabbed his hand, saying with great emotion, “Second Brother, thank you!”

Cha Kexing ruffled his hair, saying gently, “We’re family, no need to say thanks.”

Zheng Yao, stepping on a kidnapper’s chest to light a cigarette, lazily asked, “Ah Xing, how do you want to deal with these scumbags?”

Cha Kexing adjusted his glasses, saying sinisterly, “Aren’t there ready-made bags? Let them enjoy the fun of being thrown into the river—don’t leave a single one alive!”

Of course, he was joking. He was a law-abiding citizen, and catching bad guys meant handing them over to the police.

But he still wanted to scare Cha Qingle a bit.

Cha Qingle, however, was excited, “Second Brother, how do you know such amazing people!”

Cha Kexing said deeply, “I used to hang out outside during high school, you know that, right?”

“I know you were a delinquent, but I thought you just stole bikes and collected protection fees. I didn’t expect you to be involved in such high-end international organizations!” Cha Qingle’s eyes sparkled. He was a Chinese-Russian mixed-blood, having lived in New York for many years, yet he spoke with a strangely Taiwanese accent, all cutesy.

Cha Kexing couldn’t keep up the act. Actually… stealing bikes and collecting protection fees, he wasn’t above doing that.

Back then, he was just following Zheng Yao around, unscrewing streetlight bulbs, dismantling car plates, stealing old ladies’ cured meat, snatching old men’s canes, even kicking snowmen on the roadside, doing all sorts of silly things, all under the guise of “mixing in the streets.”

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Cha Kexing attended an international school for high school, where 99% of the students planned to study abroad, and the remaining 1% who intended to attend domestic universities had already secured their spots. The learning atmosphere was so relaxed it was more like a kindergarten. The students’ daily activities included discussing life goals, talking about the new luxury cars and houses their families had acquired, showcasing various talents in music and sports, with physical education classes featuring equestrian, ice hockey, and golf. It was more like a high-end social club than a high school.

Someone like Cha Kexing, who spent every day with a workbook doing exercises, was always an outlier.

In fact, he could play the piano, violin, ice hockey, and golf. He could even assemble ship models and play with robot dogs—but he just found it all boring, preferring to do exercises. He tackled math, physics, chemistry, and biology problems, doing high school and even college-level work—there was always a challenge, always problems he couldn’t solve, and always a standard answer to find.

In his second year, a transfer student joined the class. The new student was born and raised in the US, sent back to his homeland at eighteen to study and experience Chinese culture. He was tall, with long legs and handsome features, appearing to be a warm and outgoing socialite, but in reality, his only hobby was sleeping on his desk.

“Hello everyone, my name is Zheng Yao, please take care of me from now on!”

On his first day, after introducing himself, he slept on his desk as if the world didn’t exist. The classmates thought he was adjusting to the time difference and lowered their voices when discussing future plans. But the second day, the third day, a week, a whole month, he just kept sleeping.

Occasionally, during breaks, he would wake up, stretch, and go to the bathroom. If a classmate talked to him, he would respond with a smile, but after a few words, he would yawn and then go back to sleep on his desk. Over time, no matter how handsome he was, no one was interested in him anymore.

Cha Kexing and Zheng Yao, in the first half-year of being classmates, were like this—one buried in exercises, the other dreaming of the Duke of Zhou, seemingly having no interaction.

The change happened on Cha Kexing’s sixteenth birthday. His mother, Zeng Mei, organized a small party for him, inviting some friends and family, and even a few minor celebrities to liven things up. The Cha Media Group was the largest media listed company in the country, and inviting celebrities to perform was easier than getting the family parrot to say auspicious words.

But the Cha family patriarch, Cha Yuzhou, Cha Kexing’s grandfather, frowned and said, “What’s the point of throwing a party at such a young age? It’s extravagant and wasteful!” The carefully planned party ended abruptly. Zeng Mei, unable to hold back her anger, retorted, saying that a few years ago, Cha Qingle’s tenth birthday was celebrated with a grand banquet, inviting half of the entertainment industry and notable figures from the business world. They were both Cha Yuzhou’s grandsons, so why the double standard?

Cha Yuzhou was furious, saying, “You dare mention Qingle? Nothing is too good for Qingle because it’s what you owe him! Qingle’s father, my youngest son Tiange, was killed because of you!”

Cha Kexing’s father, Cha Tianque, initially scolded his wife Zeng Mei, but upon hearing his father mention his brother’s death again, he couldn’t help but retort, saying, “My brother’s death was an accident, a car crash where the other party was fully responsible. I was also injured in the car and was rescued from the ICU. Dad, you can’t blame me just because I survived!”

Outside the door, Cha Kexing heard his grandfather’s heart-wrenching rebuke: “If it weren’t for you—if you hadn’t turned the steering wheel, Tiange wouldn’t have died!”

“Dad—I was scared!” Cha Tianque was on the verge of tears, feeling wronged, “The truck came rushing over, the headlights dazzling me, I turned the wheel instinctively, or I would have died! I didn’t mean to kill my brother, it was a reflex, I was scared too!”

With Cha Kexing’s current age and mindset, he would understand Cha Tianque.

On the highway, with his father driving and his uncle in the passenger seat, facing an overloaded, tire-bursting, wrong-way truck, in a split-second life-or-death moment, his father turning the wheel couldn’t be considered a major fault. There’s even a legal principle of emergency avoidance.

But at sixteen, driven by personal heroism, he had always thought his father was capable and responsible, always filial despite being harshly treated by his grandfather, feeling both sympathy and admiration for him. But hearing his father cry about being scared shattered that towering image in his heart.

From that day on, Cha Tianque became Cha the Old Coward.

The growth of East Asian children often begins with demystifying their fathers. That night, Cha Kexing ran out of the Cha family home, wandering the streets. It wasn’t severe enough to lose his life goals, just that he suddenly lost interest in everything, including doing exercises.

Wandering until midnight, he encountered Zheng Yao leading six or seven little hooligans in a fight with a few middle-aged drunks at a roadside barbecue stall. Cha Kexing hid behind a trash can, watching for a while. The fight didn’t escalate, as the owner and other customers pulled them apart.

The drunks left, cursing, and the owner grabbed Zheng Yao by the collar, scolding, “You kids are too hot-headed, it’s just a few skewers, let them have it—”

“We ordered the skewers first, why should we let them eat first?!” Zheng Yao shook off the owner’s hand, stepping on a beer crate, righteously shouting, “And who do you think you are to lecture me? I even beat up my own dad, don’t push your luck!”

The owner, trembling with anger, said he wouldn’t charge them and told them to leave. But Zheng Yao pulled out a handful of crumpled bills from his pocket, slapped them on the table, and sat down on a red plastic stool, arrogantly saying, “I insist on eating, grill everything we ordered, not a single skewer less!”

The little hooligans followed suit, sitting down and noisily demanding skewers.

The owner rolled his eyes, cursing idiots, as the iron skewers for grilling chicken wings clattered on the grill.

Cha Kexing watched, thinking Zheng Yao’s self-righteousness was really idiotic, but… at that moment, he also wanted to be an idiot.

Carefree, doing whatever he wanted, living for today without thinking about tomorrow, a little idiot.

Author’s Note:

Cha Kexing: He even beat up his own dad, so cool!