Chapter 51 - The Punishment

Qing Chen had sent Feng Xuan home after what happened in the office. He still had a whole day of things to get to. He had already called the human resource department to get him a new secretary, one with a complete psychiatric evaluation and excellent credentials from previous bosses. Qing Chen did not want to deal with someone as crazy as Li Zongying ever again.

He attended a few meetings and was a little late to some as he couldn't find his schedule for this week among Li Zongying's items. Most were already outdated after being left for only a couple of days.

Still, his meetings finished a little early. He had meant to go straight home but he had received a summon from his father. Qing Chen already saw this coming. He was going to receive his punishment.

The sun was beginning to set when arrived at his father's house. He found his grandmother in the living room pointing things out to the maids. "Redecorating, I see."

"Hello, son," she said. She held Qing Chen's face in her hands and kissed both his cheeks. "Did you deal with the Li Zongying woman?"

When his grandmother said "deal" she meant "put six feet under". He shook his head and gave her a little smile. "You know that I can't really do that."

"Your mother," Xie Changying's eyes rolled. His grandmother's eyes hardened for a fraction of a second before softening again. "You're going to have to do that to someone in the near future, child. Our family is not exactly virtuous." She patted his cheek. "Your father is waiting in the sparring room."

Qing Chen walked down the hall and opened a door that lead to a winding metal staircase. The room was well-lit and had rectangular windows near the ceiling. This room, ran on the length of the whole house. It was their mini gym, the weapons room, the armory, firing range, and the room where they beat each other all at once.

He could already see his father sitting on a bench, his hands atop his cane, watching a shirtless Qing Lok spar in the boxing ring with one of their father's most trusted worker.

"Father," Qing Chen said.

It was as if his father's disappointment was reeking off him. "You know why you're here, child," his father said with a pipe dangling off his lips. "Strip."

Qing Chen started to take off his clothing one by one until he was just left in his boxers as was Qing Lok.

"Get up there," his father said gruffly. "Get down here, Clown."

Clown was a code name. His father refused to call his men by their real names. He was called Clown because he had a scar that started from the corner of his left lip to his cheek, like an extended smile, like a clown's face.

Qing Lok was grinning, shaking out his limbs. Sweat was sliding down his body and he was breathing in huffs when Qing Chen climbed in. "It's been a while, brother."

Qing Chen grinned back. "You're looking good," he said but still saw the bony parts of Qing Lok. But he had developed more muscles than he thought. "The question is: have you really gotten better?"

"Oh," Qing Lok chuckled and got into position, raising his bare fists. "You'll get your answers."

"What are you waiting for, ladies?!" their father bellowed from outside the ring. "Am I here to watch you talk?"

"Start!" Clown shouted.

And without warning, Qing Lok flew to Qing Chen tackling him to the ground, pinning him down. Qing Chen only had time to raise his arms to cover himself with. "I thought we're here to box?"

"That's how you get tricked, brother," Qing Lok said, continuously landing blow after blow on Qing Chen's sides. Qing Lok made a move to punch his face. He saw it coming and was able to catch his fist with a palm.

"Not the face," he said.

Then Qing Lok jabbed him on the jaw with his other hand and Qing Chen toppled over to the side. "Yes, the face."

The pain on his jaw stunned him for a little while, just enough time for Qing Lok to jump over him and land punches on his stomach and back.

Of course, his father changed the rules. This was his punishment after all. He needed to get these punches and he wasn't really allowed to get back at Qing Lok for this. It had been minutes of fists and elbows hitting him. He lost count when finally, Qing Lok stopped.

Qing Lok's arms felt jelly and his knuckles were cut and bleeding. Qing Chen could already feel the bruises forming in his chest and back.

He coughed up and blood poured out of his mouth. He spat in on the floor. He tried to raise himself with his arms but felt pain on his right shoulder. Qing Chen saw his father there with a stony face walking towards him. The tip of the cane of his father raised his bloodied face from the ground.

"You let that measly woman alive? If it were up to me I would have her skinned inch by inch until she was no longer recognizable and you let her go," his father said.

Qing Chen wanted to flinch by how graphic the words formed in his mind but he found that the muscles in his face to not be working at the moment.

"The lives of countless people in the mafia rests on your shoulder. If you make the same mistake in our world none of them and their families would survive. Think about that, Qing Chen. It would be better if it's other people's lives that we end than ours. If you let people step on you over and over, the mafia is going to fall. Starting next week you're to report back in this house every other day except the weekends and work on your training."

Qing Zihao walked to the edge of the ring. "You cannot kill this part of yourself, Qing Chen. I know you want to run away from all of this. I know your mother told you not to add a shade of darkness in this world. But this is who you are. You are my son. Remember why you're here and why we do what we do. Don't make me take your pretty little wife."

You cannot kill this part of yourself. If his face was well, he would've scoffed at that. You're wrong, Father. I had killed this part of myself long ago. Maybe I am not your son after all.

He was mad that he had to let Li Zongying go. He wanted to hurt her, too. Immensely. But he was not going to have blood on his hands. Not again. He wanted to say something crazy--something that would make his father get on the ring himself and beat him to death. But before he could say anything, he started coughing blood.

"You're not to repeat this again."

When he heard the door closed behind his father and Clown, that was the only moment Qing Chen let himself fall to the ground. Qing Lok was still trying to catch his breath.

"You look bad," he laughed.

Qing Chen chuckled despite. He hadn't seen his face but he was sure he did look bad. "Be careful. If you make a mistake, I'm going to get back at you."

"It's bound to happen," Qing Lok said and pulled himself up. "I won't be allowed to defend myself. Just don't hit the eyes, okay? And the punches shouldn't be hard that I'd lose a tooth."

"You punch like a ninny," Qing Chen said as Qing Lok hauled him to a standing position.

"Do I?"

"Your punches are fast but held little strength."

"Well, let's see about that next week."

Qing Lok helped him up the stairs to his old bedroom. In the bathroom, a bath was already drawn for him with ice cold water. He submerged himself and let his mind leave his body for a few seconds.

**

Qing Zihao watched from the living room window as Qing Chen limped his way to get inside the car. He sipped from the tea he was holding. "I honestly don't know what to do with that child."

"Maybe he's not the one," Xie Changying answered from the couch, knitting what looked like a golden fleece.

"But he has to be the one," he pressed. "Qing Lok is too young for all of this."

"Your wife," Xie Changying sighed in disappointment. "She babied your sons."

Qing Lizhao made no argument. "What do you think I should do?"

"Maybe you should call 'the one'."

The car left and Qing Lizhao turned back to his mother. "I'm afraid I have to."