Chapter Fifty-Two: Three Hundred Thousand for Protection

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Since the bar opened a month ago, business had been booming—packed every night, with lines of people waiting for tables, and private rooms needing to be reserved a day in advance. The bar opened at seven each evening, with peak crowds arriving around nine, and at half past nine, the nightly performance began. Afterward, the models took the stage, and following Zhuo Nan's instructions, Long Kun had the girls wear as little as possible, walk slowly, and dance seductively. Whenever these fiery models appeared, the crowd erupted with cheers and whistles. Zhuo Nan had Long Kun arrange for a few shills to present flower baskets to their favorite girls onstage; those who gave the most could even share a playful moment with the girl.

With someone taking the lead, the wealthier patrons naturally refused to be upstaged, buying flower baskets for a hundred yuan each without hesitation, often sending several at a time. Afterward, these baskets would be reclaimed, the names changed, and resold.

Good business meant good profits. Following the principle that every customer is a guest, Zhuo Nan ensured that even those who only ordered a single fifteen-yuan beer received excellent service.

In a single month, the bar’s turnover reached more than 2.4 million yuan, averaging over eighty thousand per day. Yang Yilin had done the math: after deducting wages, rent, and utilities, the pure monthly profit was astonishingly six hundred thousand yuan. When she reported this figure to Zhuo Nan, he was taken aback, but upon reflection, it made sense—after all, his was the only bar in Deqing at the moment. People flocked there for the novelty, but once the novelty wore off and competition arose, the profits would inevitably shrink.

Zhuo Nan thought, this money came solely from drink sales, customer tips, and the management fees collected from the hostesses. Each hostess working at the bar paid a monthly management fee of two thousand yuan for the use of the venue to conduct their business. If, like other places, he allowed the sale of illicit substances, the profits would increase by at least thirty percent—but Zhuo Nan would never allow that.

He wouldn't take the entire six hundred thousand for himself, either. Twenty percent of the pure profit was set aside as a bonus for Long Kun, and another forty percent was distributed to the staff based on their contributions. Zhuo Nan's philosophy was simple: as the boss, you couldn’t just eat meat while letting your men sip the leftover soup; you had to let them gnaw on a few bones as well if you wanted their loyalty and hard work. Moreover, with Old Wu acting as an intermediary, an additional fifty thousand yuan was paid monthly as tribute to those higher up. In the end, Zhuo Nan only pocketed about two hundred thousand yuan himself.

Those who had followed Long Kun from the start, like Paigu, now earned at least thirty thousand yuan a month from salary and bonuses combined—an amount they’d never dared to imagine before. They all believed following Brother Nan was the way to fortune, and their loyalty to Zhuo Nan only deepened. Newer recruits earned less; the capable ones could make three to five thousand, the less skilled at least two thousand—still better than ordinary jobs. Because there was real money to be made, competition among the men was fierce; everyone strove to stand out and catch the boss’s eye for a bigger share.

Fortunately, Long Kun hadn’t recruited too many new hands—just twenty or thirty, mainly serving as security in the bar. If he’d brought in a hundred men, the bar couldn’t have supported them all, which was why Zhuo Nan was already planning to open a second branch.

Zhuo Nan, Long Kun, and Yang Yilin were in the manager’s office at the back of the bar—not, it should be noted, for any untoward reason. Zhuo Nan exchanged a glance with Long Kun, who then rose, pulled a wad of cash from the drawer, and handed it to Zhuo Nan. Taking the money, Zhuo Nan turned to Yang Yilin and said, “Vice President Yang, here’s three thousand yuan—your bonus for this month. The bar’s just opened and things have been hectic. Thank you for your hard work. Please, take it.”

Yang Yilin hadn’t expected a bonus; just a few days before, she’d received a salary of five thousand, and now she was being handed three thousand more. The surprise left her momentarily speechless.

“Zhuo Nan, I can’t accept this. I’ve only done what’s expected of me.”

Zhuo Nan smiled faintly. “I’m not here often, and Kun doesn’t really understand the operations. Most of the responsibility falls on your shoulders. This is your reward for your efforts—please accept it.”

“But, Zhuo Nan, I—” Yang Yilin began, only for Long Kun to cut her off gruffly, “Just take it. Why all the fuss?”

Yang Yilin stood her ground, “And what’s with your attitude? Don’t bark at me.” After more than a month working with Long Kun, she’d come to understand his temperament; he would never actually be rough with a woman, so she was no longer intimidated by him as she had been at first.

Long Kun, taken aback, wanted to retort but, seeing the look in Yang Yilin’s eyes, thought better of it. “Who knows, maybe one day she’ll be the boss’s wife—better not offend her,” he thought, sighing and falling silent.

Yang Yilin raised her brows in victory, which made Zhuo Nan smile inwardly—this woman was truly intriguing.

“Vice President Yang, if you think it’s too little, just say so,” Zhuo Nan teased.

“No, no, not at all,” Yang Yilin hastily replied.

“Since that’s not the case, then please keep it. I won’t let down my own people,” Zhuo Nan said gently.

Yang Yilin took the money, wondering to herself, “Does this mean I’m one of his own now?”

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll get back to checking the floor,” she said, not wishing to be alone with these two men any longer. If they were to give in to their baser instincts, she might not even have time to call for help.

“All right, go ahead,” Zhuo Nan nodded with a smile.

Relieved, Yang Yilin exited the manager’s office.

When she was gone, Long Kun spoke up, “Brother Nan, have you taken a liking to that girl?”

“Get out of here with your nonsense. Remember, you’re the boss here now, not some street tough, so watch your mouth,” Zhuo Nan scolded.

Long Kun mumbled his assent, and Zhuo Nan changed the subject, “How’s the football betting I asked you to set up going?”

At the mention of business, Long Kun replied quickly, “It’s all arranged. We’re just waiting to place our bets.” Then, feeling the need to offer a warning, he added, “Brother Nan, this betting business is risky—if we lose, we could be wiped out.”

Zhuo Nan smiled calmly, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

With only a month left before the World Cup in F Country, Zhuo Nan, a passionate football fan, was well aware of the potential upsets in this year’s tournament. He planned to place heavy bets on a few dark horse games and make a killing.

Seeing Zhuo Nan’s confidence, Long Kun didn’t press the matter. At that moment, the office door burst open and Paigu rushed in, flustered. “Brother Nan, Brother Kun, bad news—Black Bear, one of Ghost Man Chao’s men, has brought his crew to make trouble. Vice President Yang is being hassled by them.”

“Damn it, Ghost Man Chao! I wasn’t looking for you, but you came here to cause trouble,” Zhuo Nan spat, storming out the door without a second thought.

Long Kun, his face dark with anger, followed close behind.

In the middle of the main hall, the music had stopped. Black Bear and seven or eight of his men had surrounded Yang Yilin, with Black Bear himself grabbing her arm and demanding she drink with him. Naturally, Yang Yilin refused and tried to break free, but Black Bear’s grip was too strong. Long Kun’s men had encircled Black Bear’s group, but none dared intervene—everyone knew Black Bear’s reputation on the street. The patrons watched intently as the drama unfolded.

“Come on, sweetheart, have a few drinks with your Brother Bear… I’ll make sure you have a good time tonight,” Black Bear said, his words lewd as he held Yang Yilin’s arm.

Tears threatened in Yang Yilin’s eyes as she pleaded, “Sir, if you want company, I can arrange someone else for you. Please, let me go.”

Seeing this, Zhuo Nan’s anger flared. He shot Long Kun and Paigu a furious glare, his voice cold as ice, “So these are the men you hired? When trouble starts, they just stand by and pretend not to see?”

Long Kun and Paigu hung their heads in shame, not daring to make a sound.

Zhuo Nan pushed through the crowd to stand beside Black Bear. At first, Black Bear didn’t notice, but when he did, he was startled—it was the young man who had single-handedly beaten all four of them in the detention center.

“It’s you…!” Black Bear exclaimed, immediately releasing Yang Yilin, who quickly took refuge behind Zhuo Nan.

Zhuo Nan fixed him with a stony stare, his voice as frigid as a winter wind. “Yes, it’s me. Or do you want another beating?”

Everyone present wore expressions of surprise. Long Kun and the senior staff knew the backstory and were unfazed, but the newer recruits were shocked—they had only known Zhuo Nan as Brother Kun’s friend, never realizing he’d once beaten Black Bear.

Black Bear’s own men were just as baffled—had their boss really been beaten by this guy? Judging by Black Bear’s uneasy expression, it seemed true.

“This has nothing to do with you. You’d best stay out of it,” Black Bear tried to change the subject.

“Cut the crap. I’m the one watching this place—you make trouble here, you think it’s none of my business?” Zhuo Nan’s cold gaze didn’t let up for a second, giving Black Bear no room to save face.

As Zhuo Nan finished speaking, Long Kun stepped forward, “Black Bear, you only brought a few men and you dare cause trouble in my bar? I guess you’re tired of living.”

Black Bear laughed boisterously. “Long Kun, you’re nothing but a coward. A boss who sends his lackey to do the talking isn’t much of a boss at all. Even your own man acts more like a boss than you.”

He was deliberately undermining Long Kun, implying that he was just a figurehead, and that Zhuo Nan was the real leader.

Long Kun showed no sign of being rattled. “Black Bear, drop the act. Believe me, you won’t walk out of here tonight if you keep this up.”

At his signal, his men began to close in, tightening the circle around Black Bear’s group.

But Black Bear was no amateur. Calm and collected, he replied, “I don’t care, Long Kun. If anything happens to me, Brother Chao will have your bar shut down by tomorrow.”

No one doubted Black Bear’s words—Ghost Man Chao had the power to ruin Long Kun overnight.

Black Bear’s threat had the intended effect; Long Kun fell silent, his brow furrowed deeply. Emboldened, Black Bear swaggered up to Long Kun, slapped him on the face, and sneered, “What’s the matter, Long Kun? Think opening a bar and hiring a few goons makes you a big shot? Brother Chao says, starting this month, your protection money goes to us—thirty grand a month.”

The crowd gasped, and Shi Yang exploded with rage, “Why don’t you just rob us outright?”

Throughout, Zhuo Nan watched Black Bear’s performance with cold detachment. At last, Long Kun glanced at Zhuo Nan, who gave him a slight nod. Long Kun understood immediately, and through gritted teeth, said, “Fine, I agree. Go tell Brother Chao I’ll have the money ready tomorrow and send it the day after.”

Black Bear burst out laughing, “That’s more like it, Long Kun. Make sure you don’t try to renege or Brother Chao won’t be pleased.” He glanced at Zhuo Nan, then waved a commanding hand. “Let’s go,” he barked, swaggering out with his men in tow.