Chapter 40: Winning Over the School Belle

After a tempestuous night, Wang Xuemei lay on Chen Erpao's broad chest, docile as a kitten, her body still bearing traces of lingering blush, her face radiant with fulfilled happiness. Chen Erpao had just demonstrated his vigor—twice in quick succession, fierce and unstoppable—leaving Wang Xuemei pleading for mercy. If he hadn’t considered that it was her first time, his stamina would surely have driven him to go on for several more rounds before he would have been satisfied.

The two of them nestled together, basking in their bliss. Though Chen Erpao still cursed fate for taking his beloved family from him, he was, at the same time, grateful to the heavens for having brought such a good woman into his life. He pressed soft kisses to Wang Xuemei’s fair forehead, vowing silently that he would never again allow harm to come to those he loved. No matter what destiny decreed, he would not accept it; if the heavens so willed, he would fight them tooth and nail, betting his very life against fate.

“I’m going to run some water,” Chen Erpao suddenly announced, grinning mischievously as he rose.

Wang Xuemei’s eyes followed his tall, imposing figure, and couldn’t help but glance downward at the proud evidence of his renewed desire. The memory of his earlier ferocity made her cheeks flush with a shade of fear—his prowess had left a deep impression on her heart.

After a refreshing moment in the bathroom, Chen Erpao shook himself dry and felt thoroughly at ease, ready to return to bed. But as he approached, he noticed something peculiar: on Wang Xuemei’s delicate, jade-like feet, there were five distinct dark moles arranged in the shape of a pentagram. His curiosity piqued, he gently took her foot in his hands to study it closely. Wang Xuemei, thinking he was about to initiate another round of intimacy, buried her face in the pillow, overcome with shyness.

Chen Erpao examined her foot thoughtfully. The ancient tales said that a man with seven moles on the soles of his feet was destined for imperial greatness, destined to rule above all, while a woman with five moles was fated for immense wealth and honor, a life of splendor and prosperity. Of course, such sayings had no scientific basis in the modern age.

“Xiaoxue, have those five moles on your foot been there since you were born?” he asked as he slipped back into bed, pulling her once again into his embrace, relishing the warmth and softness in his arms.

“Yes, they’re birthmarks. I’ve had them since I was born,” Wang Xuemei replied, a bit surprised by his sudden question.

Chen Erpao let the topic drop—after all, having five moles on the sole was rare, but it meant little in today’s world.

“Are you feeling better down there? Does it still hurt?” he asked gently.

Meeting his tender gaze, Wang Xuemei blushed and replied with a soft whimper, “What do you think? You were so rough just now, not the least bit gentle.”

“So it’s my fault, is it? All right, it’s my fault. Let me make it up to you, sweetheart,” Chen Erpao chuckled wickedly, his hand slipping boldly into her dense dark curls, seeking out the hidden path.

…

The next day, it was only Sunday, but since Chen Erpao had only one day off each week, he still had to go to work. Wang Xuemei, with no classes to attend, remained in bed, catching up on sleep.

When he got up, Chen Erpao glanced at Wang Xuemei’s flawless, porcelain body. He considered indulging in a little morning exercise for the sake of health, but seeing how exhausted she looked, he decided to let her rest.

Driving his S-class Mercedes to the school, he happened to run into Li Ziyang at the gate. Li Ziyang’s Audi Q7 was still nowhere to be seen; he had just stepped out of a taxi. Chen Erpao greeted him with a faint smile, inwardly amused. “Poor kid, always insisting on being my rival. Doesn’t he know I’m an expert at dealing with troublesome enemies, especially those who stand in my way?”

Li Ziyang caught the faint smile and immediately interpreted it as mockery, deepening his resentment toward Chen Erpao. Silently, he vowed, “Let him enjoy his moment. Soon enough, I’ll cripple him—hands, feet, and more. When Wang Xuemei sees that, she’ll come crawling back to me, the ungrateful woman!”

Inside the security office, Chen Erpao noticed, as always, that Wang Xing had arrived before him. Today, Wang Xing sported a new buzz cut and wore a subtle, satisfied smile.

Chen Erpao asked curiously, “So, did you finally conquer Beauty last night?”

“Conquer? What a crude way to put it! It was mutual affection, and what followed was simply a matter of course,” Wang Xing replied smugly.

Chen Erpao burst into laughter, giving him a thumbs-up. “Impressive! Even the Iron Nun has surrendered at your feet. I hear women like her are formidable—tell me, who came out on top? Don’t tell me she wore you out!”

A hint of embarrassment flickered in Wang Xing’s eyes, though he quickly tried to hide it, but Chen Erpao caught it nonetheless. He thought to himself, “Seems like once the Iron Nun found a release, her power was something extraordinary—even a seasoned playboy like Wang Xing couldn’t keep up.”

However, Chen Erpao tactfully kept his thoughts to himself and shifted the conversation to something else.

“It’s Sunday again—another night of underground boxing matches to look forward to. I missed it yesterday, so I can’t let that happen again,” he said.

“In last night’s matches, I heard that Liu Huagang, the Iron Eagle Claw, who appeared last week, was back in the ring. He’s already won two matches in a row, and if he wins again tonight, his prize money doubles,” Wang Xing replied.

“Liu Huagang is tough. Even your Iron Shirt technique wouldn’t help if you took a direct hit from his Eagle Claw,” Chen Erpao mused, recalling last week’s underground matches.

“I’d have to be out of my mind to go looking for trouble with him. That guy’s strength is no joke—I wouldn’t dare,” Wang Xing said quickly.

They both laughed.

After work, Chen Erpao stopped by Old Yang’s food stall, picked up a few dishes to go, and dropped them off for Wang Xuemei. Though she seemed in better spirits, she still walked gingerly, feet slightly apart, and Chen Erpao felt a pang of guilt at having been so rough the previous night, especially since he hadn’t stopped at just once.

After exchanging a few words and leaving her rolling her eyes at him, Chen Erpao quickly slipped away to meet Wang Xing and head to the underground boxing arena.

Tonight, Liu Huagang was the highlight of two matches, and the odds on him were sky-high. The first bout featured two rookie enforcers from rival gangs—neither was impressive, and there wasn’t much to see.

Liu Huagang’s opponent tonight, however, was said to be a former triple champion of the ring, a master with a sixth-degree black belt in Taekwondo, who also excelled in Japanese Karate and Western Jujitsu—far stronger than your average black belt.

The arena was packed, with most of the crowd clearly drawn by Liu Huagang’s reputation. Four ordinary-looking men caught Chen Erpao’s attention; he overheard them speaking Japanese and noticed their eyes were full of disdain as they watched the opening match.