Upon hearing Liu Yutong's words, the group's faces lit up with joy.
To be honest, they had dropped out of school early to follow their boss into the underworld.
Now that their boss had suddenly died and the gang had splintered, they were utterly lost, unsure of what to do next.
If they hadn’t found a photo among their boss’s belongings, they wouldn’t even have known he had a daughter.
After all, though the boss had plenty of women, he had never mentioned having a child.
So, armed with that photo and the scant information they had, they searched for a long time before finally finding Liu Yutong, a high school senior in Wushui County who matched the description.
Though the photo was about ten years old, there was still a 70-80% resemblance, and the fact that she shared the same surname convinced them she was their boss’s daughter—their young mistress.
This alone showed how loyal they were.
Even though the gang had fractured, they could have easily joined another faction and continued their life in the underworld. But they didn’t.
Their loyalty belonged solely to their boss.
Now that he was gone, that loyalty naturally transferred to the young mistress.
Liu Yutong took some time to learn more about them.
The cold-faced, intimidating young man was named Yun Cheng, while the chubby one was called Ma Da. Both had dropped out of vocational high school after two years and had no diplomas or steady jobs.
Later, they joined the Yi Lian Society, the gang founded by Liu Yutong’s so-called "father"—a man she had no real connection to.
It wasn’t until recently, when their boss died suddenly and internal conflicts tore the gang apart, that they chose to leave.
"So… how exactly did my ‘father’ die?" Liu Yutong asked.
"Ambushed. Stabbed a few hundred times," Ma Da answered matter-of-factly.
"But don’t be sad, Young Mistress. The boss died with his eyes closed—he must’ve passed peacefully."
Liu Yutong: "…"
A few hundred stabs? Wouldn’t that turn him into mincemeat?
And you call that peaceful?
If cremation wasn’t the norm these days, your boss would probably rise from the grave just to strangle you for saying that.
"Did he leave me any inheritance? Like, say, a few hundred pounds of gold buried in some secret spot, waiting for me to dig it up?"
She desperately needed startup capital. Even as a reincarnator, money was essential to get things moving quickly.
You couldn’t exactly build an empire out of thin air.
Ma Da shook his head. "The boss died too suddenly. He didn’t leave any instructions."
Hearing this, Liu Yutong immediately turned to leave.
No benefits at all? And here she’d forced herself to call him "Dad" a few times.
"Wait, Young Mistress, where are you going?" Ma Da hurriedly asked.
"Back to school!" she replied without looking back.
"We’ll drive you!" Ma Da called out.
Liu Yutong stopped and turned to them. "You have a car?"
It was the weekend, and she had just collected 200 yuan in living expenses from her grandfather in the countryside.
The school was still a few kilometers from the bus station—walking would take a while.
If they had a car, hitching a ride wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Ma Da immediately turned to a guy with dyed yellow hair. "Quick, bring the car over!"
Soon enough, the guy pulled up in a beat-up, who-knows-how-many-times-resold minivan.
Ma Da opened the passenger door. "Young Mistress, please."
Liu Yutong almost laughed. What kind of young mistress rides in a near-scrap minivan—and in the passenger seat, no less?
But she swallowed her pride and got in.
Then, the dozen or so gang members all crammed into the back.
Now she understood why Ma Da had insisted on the front seat.
If she had to squeeze in with them, it wouldn’t just be awkward—she might actually suffocate.
Also, the Wuling minivan truly lived up to its legendary reputation. The thing was a packing marvel!
She could already picture it: if some unlucky fool tried to stop this van, the moment the door opened and a dozen gangsters piled out, they’d probably drop to their knees begging for mercy.
Once everyone was settled, Ma Da asked, "Young Mistress, straight to school?"
But Liu Yutong had changed her mind.
There were still a few hours before evening self-study. If these guys insisted on sticking with her, she needed to know their backgrounds—before they accidentally dragged her into some mess… or worse, jail.
"Not yet. Take me to the nearest police station."
The moment those words left her mouth, the group’s expressions darkened.
"Young Mistress, you—"
"Are we going or not? If not, leave now and never come back!" she threatened.
In the end, Yun Cheng made the call. "Let’s go. We follow the Young Mistress’s orders. If you’ve decided to stay with her, don’t question her decisions."
"Yes, Brother Yun!" the group chorused.
With uneasy hearts, they arrived at the county police station.
The moment the minivan pulled into the courtyard, it caught the attention of several officers.
Not because the vehicle stood out, but because an absurd number of people climbed out.
"Driving an overloaded vehicle straight into a police station? You’ve got some nerve."
"Hand over your ID, driver’s license, and vehicle registration!"
The yellow-haired driver had barely stepped out when an officer approached, hand outstretched.
The guy nearly cried.
Over 20% overcapacity—six points deducted and a 500-yuan fine.
Their already meager funds took a nearly 50% hit in one go.
Liu Yutong winced. "Sorry, I forgot about the overloading penalty."
After dealing with the violation, the now-irritated group stormed into the station lobby.
The officers inside immediately stopped what they were doing, bracing for trouble.
"Are gangsters really this bold now? Coming to cause trouble in a police station?"
"Calling for backup—requesting immediate support!"
Liu Yutong quickly clarified, "I’m here to turn myself in—wait, no, they’re here to turn themselves in."
Soon, a stern-faced officer sat them down with pen and paper.
"Alright, let’s hear it. What crimes have you committed?"
"Well, it’s not exactly turning themselves in. They just want to check if they have any criminal records or if they’re wanted fugitives."
The officer: "???"
What kind of request was this?
Checking their own records?
But given their flashy hairstyles and less-than-respectable attire, the officer wasn’t about to refuse.
These were clearly gangsters. If they hadn’t done anything, fine. But if they had, this was an easy win.
Yun Cheng: Fights and brawls—one month detention.
Ma Da: Fourteen days detention.
Zhao Xiaoming: Ten days.
...
Out of the dozen or so, only two or three had clean records.
Most had minor offenses, all already penalized.
There was still hope.
