A Valiant Life

Chapter 92: Master Lin is infuriated

Translator: Sparrow Translations Editor: Sparrow Translations

The surrounding shop owners all gathered together.

"What’s happened now? Ever since ’Master Lin’ opened, our Cloud Street has been bustling with noise all the time."

"Do you really not know? Master Lin is the mysterious man who KO-ed Han Lu!"

"Who’s Han Lu?"

"F*ck, I don’t have time to talk to you anymore. I’m going to take a look. And maybe I’ll get to appear on television."

"I’m coming too, wait for me!"

Since the Master Lin shop opened, Cloud Street, which already had a decent flow of people in the past, became even more lively. Their businesses were mainly affected by the department store at another street in front but now, there were more people coming to Cloud Street and most of them came to look for Master Lin.

Some were there for the fortune-telling and also to do some shopping at the same time.

Some were there for the scallion pancakes and they enjoyed shopping as well.

The reporters, with microphones in hand and cameras on their shoulders, swarmed the place like bees.

They had finally given in. Everybody already knew who the mysterious man was, except the reporters.

Moreover, even when people actively informed them, they wouldn’t believe it. It was only then that they finally realized that the people were right.

The doorstep was trampled on.

There was a sea of reporters.

It was as if these reporters were on drugs. They surrounded Lin Fan inside the shop, without leaving him any room to breathe.

Lin Fan was furious.

Fraud Tian was shocked!

"Quiet! Quiet! What are you doing?" Lin Fan immediately climbed to the table top. He had no other choice. He had almost been shoved into the walls of the shop.

"Stop pushing! Hey lady, even if you can’t raise your microphone, you can’t just nudge my crotch!"

"And you! Where are you filming? Can’t we go outside and talk?"

"It’s so stuffy!"

Lin Fan was dumbfounded.

What occupation had the scariest people in the world? It had to be reporters.

Which occupation required the most dedication? The answer still had to be reporters.

As long as there was news, it didn’t matter where it was, how big the place was, or what kind of environment it was. Reporters had to get first-hand reports regardless.

"Are you the mysterious man who KO-ed Han Lu?"

"Are you trained in martial arts? What do you feel about this matter involving Han Lu?"

...

The reporters continued to question Lin Fan without a care for what he had said.

Lin Fan took a deep breath, "Everyone, please exit the shop. Any questions will be answered outside. This place is too cramped. A human stampede could happen."

After Lin Fan’s words, and in order to get him to answer their questions, the reporters finally took a step back.

The crowd was watching the scene curiously outside the shop

Their heads bobbed up and down. It was as if it was a celebrity meet-and-greet.

"Which celebrity came? There’re so many reporters."

"I don’t see any celebrities. I don’t know what’s happening."

"This shop is ’Master Lin’, right? Could it be that Master Lin is in the news again?"

"We’re here to buy scallion pancakes. Now that this has happened, will we still be able to buy them?"

The loyal customers were troubled. If it was just normal people, they could probably negotiate with them.

However, these were reporters. Judging by the reporters’ crazy work attitude, even if they were to protest, it would be useless. They might even appear in the news for it.

Outside the shop.

These reporters were giving Lin Fan a headache. If he had known that this would happen, he wouldn’t have attacked Han Lu that day.

"Are you the mysterious man who KO-ed Han Lu?" asked a female reporter.

Lin Fan was silent for a moment as the reporters awaited his reply.

"No, you’ve got it wrong," answered Lin Fan.

"How could that be? That was definitely you. We even have the picture," said the reporters.

The surrounding shop owners interrupted.

"Master Lin, you should just admit it. This is a good thing!"

Lin Fan rolled his eyes. Good thing my a*s. If he admitted to it then, who knew what kind of trouble would come his way?

Hadn’t they seen that Han Lu was looking for him online? He wanted a rematch. This was a matter of life and death.

If something happened, who would he cry to? He couldn’t do it just for everyone’s amusement or just to prove how great Chinese martial arts was.

There were many mysterious characters in the past who never revealed themselves. Lin Fan had to be crazy to reveal himself. Han Lu had already been KO-ed by him. There was no need for a rematch.

Reporter: "Master Lin, they all refer to you as Master. Could it be that they already know about your martial art abilities?"

Lin Fan pointed at his shop, "I’m just a fortune-teller and a scallion pancake seller."

The reporter asked again, "Master Lin, do you admit that you are the mysterious man who KO-ed Han Lu?"

Lin Fan had nowhere else to hide. He nodded, "Yes, I am. I admit it."

A commotion started.

The reporters were hysterical. Finally, a piece of useful information that they could write about.

The reporters asked, "Do you have any comments for Han Lu? He openly claimed that he wasn’t in his best form that day and he wants a fair and square rematch."

Lin Fan was cursing in his heart. Rematch my a*s! "I don’t have time, nor do I want to fight. I only do some fortune telling and sell some pancakes. I like to keep my body healthy. That kind of violent activity is damaging to the body."

The reporter seemed to have caught onto something and they asked, "When you say violent, you’re referring to Han Lu’s MMA, right? He has a violent fighting style?"

Lin Fan was annoyed. He wasn’t even referring to Han Lu’s fighting style. Even if that lady was a reporter, she couldn’t just put words in Lin Fan’s mouth.

"Excuse me, pretty lady. Please don’t play this game of words. I never said anything about his fighting style," said Lin Fan.

Those loyal customers who wanted to buy some scallion pancakes couldn’t wait any longer.

"Hey reporters, hurry up and finish your questions! Master Lin doesn’t have time to keep entertaining you!"

"Yeah! Didn’t Master Lin already say? He doesn’t want to fight. Do you know why? That Han Lu already got KO-ed by Master Lin. There’s nothing left to settle."

"Master Lin, just tell it to them straight. Han Lu got utterly defeated. There’s no reason for a rematch."

F*ck!

What a thing to say.

Lin Fan was done. These townsfolk really knew how to stir sh*t. Wouldn’t that give the reporters more things to talk about?

Indeed, the reporters had sensed something interesting.

"Do you know Master Lin very well?"

"Of course. I’m Master Lin’s loyal customer. How could I not know him well?"

A reporter asked, "Then why do you think Master Lin doesn’t want a rematch with Han Lu?"

The townsfolk replied, "Didn’t I say already? It’s beneath Master Lin. Do you know how busy Master Lin is? There’s nothing good that can come from fighting Han Lu again. Furthermore, he has already beaten Han Lu once. To do it once more would just be bullying.

"Master Lin is a great man. I don’t even know who that Han Lu is."

"Master Lin, please carry on making scallion pancakes. We can’t wait much longer."

"Yeah. Reporters, please excuse us."

...

Lin Fan didn’t want to talk to the reporters any longer, so he went straight to his stall.

Lin Fan then exclaimed, "There’s no need for queue numbers today. Everyone will get scallion pancakes!"

The townsfolk were delighted.

"Master Lin is too kind!"

"We’re in luck! I love you, Little Boss!"

"It’s best if you leave now, reporters. Don’t get in the way of our scallion pancakes, otherwise, you’d be messing with us."

Seeing how the reporters were still bothering Master Lin, the townsfolk couldn’t stand it any longer.

It wasn’t every day that they didn’t have to take queue numbers and yet, the reporters were spoiling this opportunity. The townsfolks’ eyes blazed with hatred.

When the reporters saw their expressions, they were frightened.

What exactly is going on?

This was the first time they had seen such a situation.

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