Chapter Twenty-One: The Lively Press Conference

“Everyone, please quiet down, please.” Seeing the chaotic scene before him, Bald Qiang couldn’t help but knit his brows. If this commotion continued, there would be no way to proceed—so many reporters, so many questions, he had no idea whom to answer first.

“Our press conference will last quite a while, so I promise everyone will have a chance to ask their questions. Please, let’s take turns.” It had taken Bald Qiang considerable effort to calm the crowd. In just a short while, a sheen of sweat had already appeared on his forehead.

“I’m a reporter from the Eastern Daily. I’d like to ask Mr. Yan—regarding the recent media reports about you assaulting someone at the entrance of the Hong Kong Island Hotel, what are your thoughts on this incident?” Once the room had quieted, a middle-aged man was first to rise and speak. As a representative of the most influential newspaper in Hong Kong, no other outlet would challenge his right to ask the first question.

“First of all, thank you to all my friends in the media for your concern.” Yan Xu smiled slightly; he was well aware of the power wielded by these scribes, and in this world, the media was the last group one should offend. “Regarding the incident at the hotel entrance, I believe everyone here has seen the photographs. I admit, I did hit someone that day.”

The media clearly hadn’t expected Yan Xu to confess so readily; the room was instantly abuzz with speculation. If the taxi driver were to press charges, Yan’s own words could easily become evidence against him in court.

“Mr. Yan, does what you just said mean that, indeed, on the evening of October 13th, at around ten o’clock, you assaulted Mr. Wang, the taxi driver, outside the Hong Kong Island Hotel?” another reporter stood and inquired.

“Yes. I did hit that bastard,” Yan Xu replied, without hesitation.

“I’m a reporter from Mango Daily. There is evidence suggesting Mr. Yan was once involved with organized crime and took part in several violent brawls. Isn’t it your complicated background that led you, for no apparent reason, to assault Mr. Wang?” Zheng Tianfen stood up, eyes fixed on Yan Xu as he spoke.

Lately, Zheng Tianfen had been in high spirits; the news of Yan Xu’s assault had boosted their paper’s circulation tremendously, earning him a handsome bonus. With just a few words, he had provoked the taxi driver into publicly condemning Yan Xu. Everything was unfolding according to plan, and he had prepared many more pointed questions for this press conference.

Yan Xu regarded Zheng Tianfen for a moment. After conducting his own investigation, he knew that it was the Mango Daily that had initiated the story and that the man before him was the author of the infamous article.

“I admit, I was not always a law-abiding citizen. I did stray from the right path, but not, as this gentleman claims, as a member of any crime syndicate. I never held any position in such an organization, nor did I ever join any group with criminal affiliations. I was just a small-time troublemaker. My academic performance was poor, as many of you here are already aware—some have even dug up my report cards. I had no particular skills, and, as a young man just setting foot in society, I was inevitably led astray by the chaotic world outside. I collected protection fees, got into fights, but everything I did was to survive.

It wasn’t until I was injured and bedridden that I began to question myself: Was I to live like this forever, drifting from day to day, not knowing whether I’d end up in prison or dead in the street? I still have an elderly father at home. Must I really make him bury his own son? Staring at the scars on my body, I swore to start over, to become a new man. And I did it—I became a director. I can now hold my head high before my family and friends, and my father no longer has to feel ashamed of me. Society is forgiving—I believe you all are as well. As the old saying goes, a prodigal son who mends his ways is more precious than gold. Who among us has not been reckless in youth? Should we be condemned for our past mistakes, as if they invalidate everything we might become?”

Yan Xu’s words rang out powerful and true.

A smattering of applause broke out, growing quickly until the whole room was clapping. His speech had struck a chord with many.

“If you claim to have turned over a new leaf, why did you still assault an innocent Mr. Wang? He’s just a regular taxi driver, earning only a few thousand dollars a month. His mother is over seventy, his wife unemployed, and his son still in school—he’s the sole breadwinner. Now, because of your attack, Mr. Wang has been left traumatized, afraid to drive a taxi. He has no other skills, and with the only source of family income gone, how are they supposed to survive?” Seeing that Yan Xu’s words had swayed the crowd, Zheng Tianfen leapt up, unwilling to let things end there. He had prepared a series of follow-up reports and stood to gain half of any compensation the taxi driver might receive. He was not about to let that money slip through his fingers.

“As you’ve just said, Mr. Wang was merely an ordinary taxi driver. If that were all, why would I have hit him and triggered all this? The media’s reports have already intruded deeply into my life. I dare say here and now: if I could go back to that day, I’d hit him again, and this time I wouldn’t hold back. Frankly, just a few punches were too good for him,” Yan Xu said, staring directly at Zheng Tianfen.

As soon as Yan Xu finished, the room erupted like a pot left to boil over. Reporters scrambled to jot down every word, and camera flashes flickered in a wild, unbroken arc.

They had expected an apology, perhaps a show of remorse toward the taxi driver, but Yan Xu’s unyielding words left them astonished. He didn’t show the slightest regret. The story had just become much more interesting; many reporters were already crafting tomorrow’s headlines—Yan Xu’s remarks were certain to dominate the front page.

Seeing the room descend once more into chaos, Bald Qiang quickly exchanged a look with someone in the crowd. It was standard practice to have a few reporters on the payroll at such events, ensuring the conference proceeded as planned, with questions carefully prepared in advance.

“Mr. Yan, we’re all quite curious—what exactly happened that night to make you act with such impulsiveness, and why do you remain so adamant even now?” Accepting Bald Qiang’s cue, a reporter stood up and asked the question that was on everyone’s mind, his words restoring order to the room.

“That night, I was out with my family for dinner. Around ten o’clock, after our meal, we left the Hong Kong Island Hotel and were heading home. My father went to hail a cab, and when he told the driver where we lived—in the housing estates, across the harbor—the driver refused to take us. My father argued with him, and while my father’s guard was down, the driver suddenly sped off, knocking him to the ground. Not only did he fail to stop and help, he fled the scene. He didn’t stop until our companions caught up with him. That’s why I hit him. Put yourselves in my shoes—if it had been your family member struck down, wouldn’t your reaction have been even fiercer?” Yan Xu recounted the events with passionate indignation.

It was the first time the full story had come to light, and it took the room by surprise. Reflecting on the taxi driver’s recent interviews, many recalled how he had always avoided answering why the incident occurred, preferring to dwell on his own suffering. Yan Xu’s explanation now seemed much more credible.

“You’re the only one telling this story. Compared to Mr. Wang’s solid evidence, do you have any proof?” Zheng Tianfen sprang to his feet. Things were veering off course, not at all as he’d intended. If this continued, his series of planned exposés would be for nothing, and with half the taxi driver’s compensation at stake, he was in no mood to let the matter drop.