072 Wu Hao and Brother Hua Entangled Together

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"Forty percent of my mana, huh?"

The sea of mana didn’t display a numerical value, but the amount consumed by each use of Celestial Melody Purification was precise—seventy-two units.

In other words, Yang Tang’s current mana limit hovered around one hundred eighty, perhaps a bit more, since upon closer observation, she noticed she hadn’t quite used up forty percent.

As for the mana regeneration rate, Yang Tang planned not to use Celestial Melody Purification for the next several hours. Once her mana fully recovered, it should be easy to calculate the recovery rate.

After washing the little dog clean under the faucet, Yang Tang casually set it down on the ground. The puppy just stood there, dripping wet, not daring to shake off the water like other dogs—clearly, it’d been bullied into submission.

At the same time, Yang Tang noticed that the puppy’s freshly healed foreleg was far less steady than its hind legs. It trembled as it tried to support its tiny body, looking as if it might collapse at any moment.

“Hmm?”

Yang Tang picked up the little dog and carefully examined its front paw, even giving it a gentle squeeze. The dog’s face twisted in pain.

“So the fracture is healed, but the bruising and internal bleeding aren’t!”

It was like spraining your ankle during basketball—a big swelling, but the X-ray shows no broken bone, and it still takes a week or two for the bruise to subside before you can walk again.

“It seems that for any injury involving bleeding, Celestial Melody Purification has little effect.”

Still, Yang Tang wasn’t disappointed. After all, the fact that Celestial Melody Purification could mend fractures in a short time was already remarkable. Moreover, for other negative conditions like dizziness, blurred vision, nausea, poisoning, and so on, it worked exceptionally well. She should be more than satisfied.

Having finished her experiment, Yang Tang went to the convenience store, bought a pack of pickled chicken feet, opened it, and left it on a patch of sandy ground in the small grove, letting the puppy eat and play as it pleased, paying it no further mind.

During class that afternoon, Yang Tang delved into mathematics. She found that, with the mind of the King of Hackers, she could see solutions to many challenging problems. However, she hadn’t yet memorized all the commonly used high school formulas, so when it came to actually solving the equations, she ended up deriving answers using advanced calculus or even concepts beyond the university level.

Although her final answers were always correct, the solution process looked nothing like the standard answers. If it happened once or twice, maybe the graders would find it interesting. But if every problem was solved this way, some irritated grader might just decide to mark her wrong. After all, the college entrance exam score check only verifies the sum of the points, not whether the answers were marked correctly or not, so it’s best to appease the graders—give them standard answers, write neatly, and that’s enough.

So Yang Tang put aside her deep dives into complex math problems and instead focused on memorizing all sorts of formulas, applying them to make her problem-solving process look more high-school-level.

The afternoon slipped by in a flash. During the first half of evening study, Yang Tang sought out Cen Li and asked her about some tricky English questions. She had to admit, Panda Li’s expertise in her major was top-notch—anything from the textbook, there was no stumping her.

After the first evening study session, Yang Tang skipped the second and instead leisurely rode her scooter back to her home at Wu University.

Since Yang Tang had made over three million yuan selling software in Shenhai, Yang Jixue now saw his son as grown, capable of making his own plans, and stopped meddling in his affairs. Besides, if all else failed, Yang Tang still had two paths to fall back on: sponsorship or military service—nothing to worry about.

After washing up, Yang Tang retreated to his room, opened his laptop, connected to the internet, set up his proxy, and began carefully approaching the overseas servers corresponding to the Criminal Investigation Bureau’s case database packet sniffer.

The results were promising: on two separate overseas servers, there were three or four data packets each about cases involving the surname “Yang.” There were three such packets, but none concerned Yang Tang himself. The latest packet was sent around eight in the evening, likely by bureau staff working late to access the files.

“Heh, looks like it worked. The old logs on the case database have been deleted. If they want to trace my packet sniffer, they’ll now have to search the entire database, which is a massive undertaking. The commotion will be huge—they won’t be able to keep it from me! When the time comes, I’ll be long gone and might even steer them into a fight with the Japanese or the Americans!”

It had to be said, ever since Yang Tang became the King of Hackers, the sly, crafty side of his personality had started to emerge. Fortunately, “Uncle” Yang Tang wasn’t that devious at heart—otherwise, countless men and women chatting online might fall victim, not to mention female celebrities with any compromising videos; they’d hardly escape the King of Hackers’ reach. If it ever came to that, the world wouldn’t necessarily fall into chaos, but the entertainment industry certainly would.

“Phew, I’ve finally got the Shenhai Criminal Investigation Bureau under surveillance. Now it’s all up to Wu Lie’s next moves. No, I’d better call and ask!”

Feeling somewhat anxious, Yang Tang didn’t end up calling Wu Lie, but instead dialed Wu Hao’s number.

“Hello, who’s this?” On the other end, the background noise was deafening, but Wu Hao’s slightly flamboyant voice finally yelled through.

“It’s me, Yang Tang!” Yang Tang yelled back.

“Oh, Tang! Hold on, let me find a quiet spot.” There was a rush of hurried footsteps. “Tang, we can talk now. Where’ve you been lately? My dad said you went traveling.”

“More or less. I went to Shenhai. What about you? Doing alright?” Yang Tang made small talk.

“My dad’s crazy busy, and I’m just wasting away every day. What’s there to be alright about?” Wu Hao’s tone was lonely.

“What’s wrong? Something bothering you?” Yang Tang asked offhandedly.

“There is, actually!”

“What’s going on?” Yang Tang pressed.

“Remember when I got badly injured on the basketball court, and you saved my life?”

“Of course I remember.”

“My dad lied to me. Turns out the guys who attacked me never left the country—they’re holed up in the foreign consulate here in Mist City. I ran into them the other day, but there’s nothing I can do!” Wu Hao said, indignant.

Yang Tang was silent.

“Tang, are you still there?”

“I’m here. What, you want to get back at them?” Yang Tang said with a half-smile.

“Do you have a way?” Wu Hao sounded instantly excited.

“I have an idea, but your dad has to be in the loop. Otherwise, no matter who you ask for help, it won’t be enough.”

“But my dad’s too busy—”

“Then wait until he’s not. When he’s free, give me a call, and we’ll meet up and talk things over.” Unbeknownst to Wu Hao, Yang Tang had deftly handed the job of finding out what he wanted to know to Wu Hao.

“Alright, when my dad’s free, I’ll call you!” Wu Hao agreed, though a bit worried. “But, bro, what if those bastards who beat me up really do leave the country?”

Yang Tang laughed. “Wouldn’t that be perfect?”

“How is that perfect?” Wu Hao was clearly confused.

Yang Tang explained, “Foreign ambassadors in China have immunity, but in their own country, they’re just ordinary people. Understand?”

Wu Hao suddenly saw the light. “Bro, you’re a genius!”

A couple days later, on Friday, Wu Hao called Yang Tang, inviting him to dinner after school.

Before the last class ended, Yang Tang pulled out a scrap of paper and scribbled something on it. After a moment’s thought, he put it away, shaking his head.

After class, deciding not to attend evening study, Yang Tang headed toward the school gate, only to be intercepted from behind by Bai Keqing.

“Bai, why are you stopping me?”

Bai Keqing fixed him with a cold stare. “Why were you writing notes and shaking your head in class?”

Yang Tang was momentarily stunned, then said in surprise, “You don’t think that note was for you, do you?”

“Wasn’t it?” Bai Keqing retorted icily.

Yang Tang was at a loss for words. If he flat-out told her she was being self-delusional, it would hurt her. Rubbing his brow, he said, “Bai, don’t you think life would be beautiful if people could always stay as they were when they first met?”

Bai Keqing’s eyes sparkled as she waited for more.

“But the note really wasn’t for you.”

“I don’t care. Unless you show it to me!” Bai Keqing’s cheeks flushed as she said this, a bit embarrassed by her own bluntness.

Yang Tang’s expression darkened. “Bai, I’m grateful for the business you introduced with Shen Chen, but the note wasn’t for you, and I don’t want to repeat myself a third time.”

Bai Keqing, a bit cowed by his tone yet unwilling to let the matter drop, hesitated. She watched as Yang Tang walked around her, softly reciting, “If only life could always be as it was at first sight, why must the autumn wind bring sorrow to the painted fan? How easily friends’ hearts change, and yet we say only that hearts are fickle.” His tall figure gradually receded.

Yang Tang rode his scooter to their meeting spot, bought the cheapest lighter from a roadside cigarette stand, and went into the restaurant.

Only then did he realize the first-floor dining hall was thick with smoke, packed with all sorts of rough types. At the head of the crowd sat Black Screen and Big Gold.

When Yang Tang entered, both Black Screen and Big Gold stood up and came over. “Brother Yi!”

At this, the others, who’d been making merry, also stood in unison and called out, “Hello, Brother Yi!” The chorus was so loud it could be heard two streets away.

“Alright, alright, hello everyone!” Yang Tang gave a wry smile inwardly, but kept his face impassive, gesturing for them to sit. He then asked Black Screen, “Where’s Hua and that brat Wu Hao?”

“They’re upstairs.”