Transmigrated as the fake young master, I'll beat up the scumbags and b*tches-Chapter 302Vol. 1 - - Shi Zhong

In the end, it was still Xia GaoWu who arranged for HuMing to be sent home.

But this time, the one doing the driving was no longer the Xia family’s old butler—it was a much younger face.

The man opened the car door with practiced ease and gestured for HuMing to duck inside.

HuMing blinked. It had been the old butler every time before. Why the change now?

“Never seen you around before. Where’s the old guy?”

“He’s my father. His legs haven’t been too good these past few days, so Mr. Xia told him to rest. I’m filling in for now—driving Young Master Xia and any guests,” the man answered with a polite smile, not a hint of hostility in his demeanor.

HuMing’s mind drifted to the previous driver who had been assigned to protect Xia XiaoXi. Xia XiaoXi had mentioned that the guy was kicked out.

People who rely too much on their connections never last long.

He stretched out, hands resting behind his head, eyes drifting lazily out the window as he muttered, “Speaking of which, I wonder what happened to that driver who was looking after Xia XiaoXi. That guy was your relative, wasn’t he?”

The driver nodded from the front seat. “Yes, he was. I’ve heard what happened too. Us hired workers shouldn’t go poking around where we don’t belong. Just doing our job well is enough.”

The man spoke with a quiet sense of professional pride, clearly drawing a line between himself and any sort of ambition.

HuMing nodded approvingly. “You’re right. I really can’t stand people who forget their place, always trying to pull stunts they think will ‘help their master’, when really they’re just making things worse.”

His fingers tapped rhythmically on the windowsill. The car hummed down the highway, and soon, silence settled between them.

From the driver’s seat, the man glanced up at the rearview mirror. He saw HuMing sitting there, relaxed—but his own heart was racing.

Gradually, the anxiety in his chest eased.

Eyes returning to the road, he didn’t realize that HuMing was watching him through half-lidded eyes, studying him.

The car's music played softly, shuffling through tracks until finally it came to a stop.

“Young Master HuMing, we’ve arrived at the Gu residence.”

HuMing stirred, sat up slowly. The driver reached to open his door, but HuMing beat him to it, pushing it open himself.

He stepped out and stretched with a lazy yawn, eyes sweeping over the man in front of him.

In that instant, the man felt as if he’d been scanned by some machine. Cold sweat broke out across his back, and for a moment, it felt like the young man standing before him could see straight through him—every thought, every hidden agenda laid bare.

Then, just as suddenly, HuMing smiled.

He reached out and gave the man a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Then he said something.

Something the man didn’t understand.

HuMing turned and walked away toward the Gu estate, leaving the driver rooted to the spot, watching his figure fade into the distance.

Only after HuMing had disappeared did the man exhale sharply, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

Being around HuMing… he felt like he was going to crack.

That young man had a terrifying kind of pressure about him. Even in front of Xia GaoWu, he’d never felt anything like it.

Especially when HuMing brought up the previous driver…

No one knew it, but he had been the one who recommended that driver to his father.

No one knew that the man’s arrogance came from his own subtle encouragement.

After all, the Xia family’s position made it easy to get away with certain things. Even if the driver stepped out of line a little, it wouldn’t cause any real damage. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

He hadn’t expected that boy—HuMing—to take him out so cleanly.

Even with backing from his father, it hadn’t been enough to withstand Xia XiaoXi’s disgust.

Now that everything was coming to a head, he had to take matters into his own hands.

He climbed back into the car, started the engine, and drove to a quiet, deserted place.

There, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. It didn’t take long for a man’s voice to answer.

“Yeah, I overheard Xia GaoWu and HuMing talking earlier,” he said. “Sounds like they’re planning a matchmaking.”

“Matchmaking?” the man on the other end said, surprised. “You mean Xia GaoWu wants to marry off his daughter to the Gu family? Hoping to gain their protection—and avoid being taken out by ‘Blizzard’?”

A low chuckle followed. “That old fox… He’s still got some tricks left. Didn’t HuMing get rid of your relative too? Seems like Xia GaoWu’s plan might actually work.”

“Exactly, Mr. Shi. We stick to the plan. On the night of the Gu family banquet, you take care of Xia GaoWu. I’ll leak all of Blizzard’s intel. Once that happens, both Xia family and Blizzard will be crippled in one move.”

“You really do understand the big picture,” Shi Zhong said, his voice smooth. “Just keep biding your time inside the Xia family. Once Xia GaoWu is dead, none of his children will matter. You’ll be able to quietly devour their resources from the inside…”

Shi Zhong’s promises were dangerously tempting to an ordinary person.

As the son of the Xia family’s butler, he knew better than anyone just how intoxicating their life could be.

He’d always craved it.

But his father had constantly warned him: a servant must know his place. Work hard, keep your head down, and the master might reward you one day.

But he thought his father was trapped in outdated thinking.

Why turn away from opportunity when it was right in front of you?

Wealth and power come only to those who take risks. If you never dare to walk the tightrope, how could you ever expect to reach the other side?

“…No rush. Enjoy that little treat for now. I’ve got some other matters to take care of.”

“All right. I’ll be waiting for good news.”

The call ended.

His hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, breath growing heavier.

He leaned back in the seat, eyes closed, already dreaming of the life that awaited him.

Far away, in a villa abroad—

A middle-aged man held a wine glass filled with red liquid as rich as blood.

Behind him hung a painting on the wall: a pale, claw-like hand gripping a man’s throat, his eyes glowing crimson, his face twisted in agony.

The man turned to look at the painting, his expression darkening.

Every time he looked at it, old memories surfaced—memories of humiliation, of loss.

If not for that man, he wouldn’t be here.

To him, the painting was a reminder—a warning.

Trust no one.

Everyone else is just a pawn.

“…Shame you’re not here,” he murmured. “I’d love to make you feel the same despair you gave me.”

He downed the blood-red wine in one gulp. A drop slipped from the corner of his mouth, staining the black fabric of his suit.

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