As soon as they returned, the hushed murmurs among the crowd ceased, and many eyes fixed upon the pair.

Mi Xue watched Zhang Yang with a trace of worry; she sensed something amiss. It was as if the moment he saw Secretary Zhao, Zhang Yang transformed—a shift Mi Xue had never witnessed in him before.

As Zhao Min walked over, he noticed Mi Xue and offered her a friendly smile.

After gathering with those awaiting him, they departed, offering no further words to Zhang Yang before leaving.

Their cars were also in the parking lot; all fine vehicles, though none could quite match the rides belonging to Zhang Yang and his circle. Zhang Yang and his friends were known as local playboys obsessed with cars, among the most prominent in Changjing.

“My apologies for keeping everyone waiting!”

Zhang Yang offered a slight smile. After Zhao Min left, his mood gradually improved, and Mi Xue, looking concerned, linked her arm through his.

“It’s fine. We were just chatting with Young Master Su!”

Wu Zhiguo shook his head. As he spoke, several people couldn't help but glance at Su Zhantao again.

Su Zhantao being that person's son was certainly a surprise. They had been curious about Zhang Yang’s identity, but they hadn't expected such an unexpected revelation to emerge from Su Zhantao.

“Come on, let’s go inside and have some fun!”

Zhang Yang smiled and led Mi Xue directly into the nightclub.

Zhang Yang generally possessed a good temperament, but seeing Zhao Min and hearing those words had caused his spirits to plummet. He now desperately wanted a way to blow off some steam.

“Young Master Su, come on, we absolutely must share a few drinks tonight! You kept this hidden from us for so long!”

Wu Zhiguo grabbed Su Zhantao, letting out a hearty laugh. The others also looked toward Su Zhantao with mischievous intent.

Su Zhantao’s face was a mask of helplessness as he shot a pleading look toward Yang Ling beside him.

His tolerance for alcohol was decent, but he couldn't fend off this many wolves. Judging by their expressions, they had no intention of letting him off easy tonight.

He felt utterly wronged, more so than Dou E. He had purely been helping Zhang Yang keep a secret, and now the fire was burning him instead.

Su Zhantao’s status had certainly stunned them initially. They had previously guessed he had some connections, but they never imagined they would be this significant.

However, these were not inexperienced youths. Beyond the initial shock, they quickly regained their composure.

Among their respective families, there were already numerous high-ranking officials.

Wu Zhiguo’s paternal cousin was a Provincial Deputy Secretary, and the financial prodigy Li Ya had a Minister-level brother-in-law. The others were not far behind in standing.

The last time Xiao Dai was bullied, Wang Chen, while helping Zhang Yang at the hospital, had directly called his maternal uncle, who happened to be the Director of the Provincial Administration for Industry and Commerce.

As for Long Cheng, there was no need to elaborate; the Long family behind him was famous nationwide.

Among this group, save for Chang Feng, who inherited wealth, nearly everyone possessed some degree of status or background. Yet, Chang Feng himself had excellent prospects; despite a slightly weaker background, he was favored by some and possessed ability, suggesting he might carve out his own path in the future.

Relatives connecting to relatives, relationships built upon relationships—this was a hallmark of the era. For successful merchants, especially those with established family businesses, connections were indispensable. This reality had forged this group of wealthy, well-connected young elites.

At the nightclub, a luxurious private room was arranged for Long Cheng and the others, boasting significant space.

The drinks were already prepared: four bottles of Louis XIII, priced at tens of thousands per bottle, were set out for them.

Zhang Yang was clearly in a foul mood and immediately opened two bottles, pouring a glass for everyone without any mixers.

“Brothers, I apologize for spoiling dinner earlier. I’ll drink this one as a penalty!”

Zhang Yang raised his glass and downed it in one go. That single pour was easily over three liang (a traditional Chinese unit of volume). Louis XIII wasn't as high in proof as baijiu, but the difference wasn't vast. Drinking it like this was almost the same as downing hard liquor.

The group, who had been planning to force drinks down Su Zhantao’s throat, all turned to look at Zhang Yang, exchanging bewildered glances.

After finishing that glass, Zhang Yang poured himself another, raising the glass once more.

“The last one was my self-penalty. This one is for everyone—I’ll lead the way!”

With that, Zhang Yang drank it down in one gulp again. For some reason, his mood was extremely heavy right now; he needed an outlet for release.

Fighting or smashing things was out of the question; the only avenue for catharsis available to him was drinking.

However, it wasn't easy to get Zhang Yang drunk. His enhancement of Neijin (Internal Energy) had significantly increased his capacity. If he chose to, by utilizing his internal energy to neutralize the alcohol while drinking, he could bring everyone else in the room to their knees.

“Zhang Yang, don’t drink like this!”

Mi Xue couldn't help but squeeze his arm tighter, gripping it with worry.

She was no longer just a student focused on her studies. Having run a restaurant for so long, she understood a great deal about spirits and knew that these foreign liquors had a potent after-effect and shouldn't be consumed so recklessly.

“Zhang Yang has already had two; it would be inappropriate if we didn't drink even one. Come on, everyone, cheers!”

Su Zhantao picked up his glass and called out. He frowned slightly as he looked at the nearly full glass, but he still downed it.

After finishing, he immediately moved to Zhang Yang’s side and pulled him away.

Mi Xue started to follow, but Su Zhantao stopped her with a look.

“You’re not yourself today. Is it because of Secretary Zhao?”

Once they reached a secluded corner, Su Zhantao quietly inquired. He understood Zhang Yang better than anyone else present.

He was acutely aware of the deep conflict between Zhang Yang and his father.

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know why I’m like this!”

Zhang Yang shook his head helplessly, his speech already thick with the scent of alcohol.

He wasn't intentionally deceiving them; the negative emotions were a physical instinct. Zhang Yang didn't want to feel this way and was deeply frustrated by it.

It was akin to suddenly feeling overwhelmingly anxious and agitated for no discernible reason, needing to drink or lash out, yet having no concrete justification.

Anyone encountering such a state would surely be miserable.

“Nothing is insurmountable. These guys were just inquiring about your background just now; I deflected them.”

Su Zhantao recounted the earlier incident with a smile, treating it as a lighthearted anecdote to amuse Zhang Yang.

As he spoke, Su Zhantao himself began to chuckle.

Their fathers were partners, perhaps, but also the most fundamentally opposed partners; such was the national reality, and nobody could change it.

Yet, the two sons were close friends, and neither lived with their respective fathers.

“If they want to know, tell them, it’s fine with me.”

Zhang Yang smiled faintly, causing Su Zhantao’s eyes to widen instantly. Su Zhantao had kept this hidden, joining forces with the others to confront him precisely because of this secret, which had now been exposed. If he had known Zhang Yang felt this way, he wouldn't have kept quiet for him earlier.

“But I am me, and he is him. I have nothing to do with him!”

Zhang Yang added the qualification, as if he couldn’t feel truly comfortable until he said it.

Once spoken, Zhang Yang felt a small measure of relief.

These overwhelming negative emotions left Zhang Yang deeply vexed, and simultaneously, he was morbidly curious: what kind of resentment could leave such a deep imprint, even hiding memories automatically?

Su Zhantao was momentarily choked up by Zhang Yang’s words. Hearing this, he knew Zhang Yang’s knot of resentment remained untied.

“Alright, I won’t push it. Let’s drink together—we won't stop until we’re wasted today!”

Su Zhantao clapped Zhang Yang on the shoulder and led him back. None of the others—Wu Zhiguo and the rest—mentioned forcing drinks on Su Zhantao anymore.

They now understood that something was wrong with Zhang Yang, and Su Zhantao, his closest friend who knew him best, was trying to counsel him.

Consciously or unconsciously, the others steered clear of the previous subject, bringing up other cheerful topics instead.

Long Cheng even proactively asked Zhang Yang about trivial matters from his trip to Shanghai.

Zhang Yang, usually reserved, was unusually talkative today, recounting many details of his Shanghai journey.

This included the wine reception he had hosted for his classmates.

Hearing that Zhang Yang owned a villa in Shanghai capable of hosting a reception immediately energized the others.

Wang Chen, whose leg injury necessitated the use of a crutch, was shouting the loudest, insisting he must visit Zhang Yang’s Shanghai villa for a thorough look.

The young man had been brimming with energy lately, having grown bored confined to the hospital and constantly clamoring to get out.

After the Shanghai recounting, the initial four bottles were finished, and Zhang Yang ordered two more.

These were smaller bottles of Louis XIII, but each held 700 milliliters—nearly a pound and a half of liquid.

After consuming so much alcohol, Wu Zhiguo, who had been pushing everyone else, was the first to collapse. Li Ya wasn't faring much better, soon passing out.

Su Zhantao was still trying to hold on, but he clearly couldn't steady his glass anymore.

Chang Feng and Long Cheng were slightly better off but were already glazed-eyed and woozy. Only Zhang Yang remained relatively clear-headed.

This only deepened Zhang Yang’s frustration. He had intended to drink heavily, but no amount seemed to intoxicate him, leaving him to be continuously affected by these troubling negative emotions.

While they were drinking, the lights were on in one room inside the villa at the Provincial Party Committee Compound Number One Residence.

Zhao Min stood respectfully before a man, recounting his encounter with Zhang Yang just moments ago.

He spoke not only of Zhang Yang but also of Long Cheng and the others. Zhao Min was well aware of his leader’s concerns; he would never conceal anything regarding Zhang Yang. After investigating the group Zhang Yang was with, he had immediately rushed over to report.

His report was brief but detailed. When he finished, he stood quietly.

“I understand. You may return and rest now.”

After a moment, the man before him nodded slightly. This man appeared to be under fifty. His expression remained utterly unchanged as he spoke.

Zhao Min bowed slightly and quietly withdrew.

From his understanding of his superior, he knew this news was not being dismissed; rather, the leader had other considerations in mind, which was why he was sent away first.

………… First update!