“What happened?” The young man tilted his head slightly and lifted the middle-aged man’s chin with a finger. His expression was distant the entire time.
But many who liked him were attracted to that distant coldness, including the middle-aged man in front of him. Every time they saw someone like him on the bed beneath them and moaning uncontrollably, they would feel a strong sense of satisfaction for having conquered him.
“Nothing; the AC is probably turned up too high here.” The middle-aged man smiled and pressed a kiss to the youth’s light pink lips. He smiled lasciviously. “Your lips not only look pretty but are soft, too.”
The youth responded without batting an eye, “Because I’m wearing lipstick.”
The middle-aged man’s expression froze for a second. But this wasn’t the first time his compliments had been rejected, so he quickly smiled again and suggested, “Why don’t we go sit at your table for a bit? I heard that business hasn’t been going well for you. We can’t let Ming have all the fun.” The middle-aged man’s smile suggested something different when he said “fun.”
The youth nodded, his expression neither surprised nor happy.
The more Baal looked at the slender figure, the more his frown deepened. It would be difficult for Wang Xiaoming and someone like the young man to fall into passionate love. He had thought well of this young man on the car ride over. Back then, the young man had worn all white and appeared different from all the other humans, which made Baal think positively of him.
Wang Xiaoming carefully stuck his head out from around the corner and looked at the pair of retreating figures. Then he lifted his head and looked at Baal.
Baal asked thoughtfully, “Maybe we should add Burnt-Hair back in?”
“Hmm… ah?” Wang Xiaoming didn’t follow.
“If that’s not enough, we should call that Chang Haitao person back.” The more candidates available, the better.
Wang Xiaoming finally realized that Baal was feeling dissatisfied with the young man.
Baal felt disappointed at the sight of the cuddling couple not far ahead of them. He said, “Let’s go find that President Xiang.”
Wang Xiaoming’s mind immediately pulled up that extremely handsome—but also extremely bossy—face. He clutched the corner of the wall desperately and said, “No, he’s fine. I like him.”
Baal’s eyes glinted and his voice dropped several degrees, “You weren’t willing before and now look at how quickly you say you like him… You’re not being contradictory on purpose, are you?”
“No, I’m just…” Halfway through Wang Xiaoming’s explanation, his attention was drawn away by two ferocious, stocky men marching over from the other side of the hallway.
Baal turned around.
The middle-aged man and the youth hadn’t walked far. The two stocky men took a few quick steps forward, grabbed the middle-aged man, and punched him without warning.
The youth frowned. Just as he was about to say something, another man used his back to block the youth.
The middle-aged man stumbled and then righted himself. He didn’t get a chance to speak before the second and third punch struck him. They hit him so fast that there was no time for him to open his mouth.
The young man became furious and shouted, “Stop it! Who are you? This is the Silver House, not a place for your temper tantrums!”
The stocky man said vaguely, without turning around, “Jie, don’t get in the middle of this.”
The young man squinted. “You know who I am?”
The man shut up immediately.
Just beyond, the middle-aged man was knocked-down on the floor. At first he had the energy to shout, but all he could do now was breathe.
Wang Xiaoming was just having the time of his life watching the show when he heard footsteps coming from behind him. Since the floor was made of tile, the sound of leather shoes hitting it was extra crisp and threatening. The footsteps came quickly and, before he had time to react, they were behind him.
He turned around; his heart immediately sank.
Xiang Wenxun passed by him expressionlessly but then lifted his head.
It might have been a figment of his imagination, but Wang Xiaoming thought he saw Xiang Wenxun glance in Baal’s direction.
It wasn’t Xiang Wenxun who spoke up but the security guard behind him. Xiang Wenxun only showed his face, but his presence alone was enough to make the goons sweat.
“I don’t care who’s behind this but since you’re making trouble at the Silver House, you should be prepared.” Xiang Wenxun’s tone was as calm as a still lake and as deep as an ocean. But everyone present felt a cold wind blow past them.
Of course, “everyone” did not include the fallen angel.
Xiang Wenxun looked at the two men being dragged away by the security guard. His gaze lowered and fell on the middle-aged man groaning on the ground. A slow smile formed on his face and he reached out a hand. “President Zhang, are you alright?”
President Zhang almost cursed the other’s mother. He was just beaten up. How “alright’ could he be?
But the man in front of him was the owner of the Silver House and an important character in both normal and underground society. So even though President Zhang was so furious he could spit blood, he forced down a grimace and struggled to say, “Al…right.”
The young man’s and Xiang Wenxun’s gazes met and then they each looked away.
The young man walked over to President Zhang and bent down to gently help the man up.
Xiang Wenxun informed everyone, “I’ve already called for a private car to take President Zhang to the hospital. Of course, I’ll be taking care of all the fees.”
He got beaten up on his territory, and that guy was just paying for the car?!
Despite how willing President Zhang was to swallow an insult, a thunderstorm gathered on his face. He shoved the young man aside and slapped him.
In reality, after such a beating, the middle-aged man struggled to stay upright and didn’t have the energy to hit anyone, so the speed and power behind the slap were negligible.
But the young man simply stood there as if waiting for the strike; he neither moved nor dodged.
The back of the hand met his cheek with a crisp sound. The young man’s expression remained unchanged.
Xiang Wenxun frowned imperceptibly.
The distant expression, which had so enchanted President Zhang before, now looked like sarcastic disdain. That clear gaze looked at him from above as if laughing at how pitiful he was. He raised his hand and was about to strike again when Xiang Wenxun said calmly, “Jie, come to my office and explain what happened today.”
President Zhang’s hand paused awkwardly in midair. In the end, it didn’t connect.
The young man answered, “Yes.”
President Zhang felt his fury go to his head and drown out all rational thought. At the very least, he was a guest. He was injured this badly and Xiang Wenxun had the audacity to take away the only “crutch” on which he could rely. He believed that he had always abided by the rules since stepping foot inside the Silver House, and he shouldn’t have offended anyone. But he wasn’t so stupid as to not realize that Xiang Wenxun’s attitude toward him had changed. Maybe Xiang Wenxun had been the one to send those two goons. How else could someone casually enter a place like the Silver House?
“Xiaoming,” Xiang Wenxun suddenly called out.
Wang Xiaoming had been sneakily making his way to the end of the hallway. When he heard Xiang Wenxun call out, Wang Xiaoming shuddered and slowly turned around.
Xiang Wenxun looked at him with an unfathomable gaze.
Just as Wang Xiaoming contemplated running away, Baal shoved him from behind and then shoved him again.
So, to the people watching, it looked like Wang Xiaoming eagerly stumbled over and then “intentionally” threw himself into Xiang Wenxun’s arms.
The faint scent of cologne and tobacco filled his nose and Wang Xiaoming felt all the blood in his body rush to concentrate around his cheeks. He lowered his head and told himself, like an ostrich with its head in the sand, that this is a dream, just a dream.
But Baal’s voice was like a knife that cut through his attempts at fooling himself. “This is a very good beginning.”
“Steady now?” Xiang Wenxun put his hand on Wang Xiaoming’s shoulder and slowly pushed him upright.
Wang Xiaoming looked like he was about to cry and he tried to find a hole in the ground into which he could disappear.
Surprisingly, Xiang Wenxun didn’t scold him for being rude nor call him out for leaving his post. He merely said, “Help President Zhang to the front door and into the car.”
Wang Xiaoming looked up, his face still blood red. He looked a bit like an overripe tomato.
Xiang Wenxun raised an eyebrow.
Wang Xiaoming obediently walked over to President Zhang.
President Zhang extended a hand cooperatively. He understood well the principle of not pushing it. But just by looking at Xiang Wenxun’s attitude, he knew that this incident would probably be swept under the rug. Whenever he thought of that, the flames of fury in his heart burned brighter. Wanted to make it go away? He’d have to ask for his cooperation.
Even though he didn’t have as much authority as Xiang Wenxun, he had been a businessman for a while and had some connections. He refused to believe that spending tens or hundreds of thousands wouldn’t identify the mastermind behind all this.
Perhaps Xiang Wenxun knew his background, because he followed up with, “I am very sorry about this incident. President Zhang, if you don’t mind, I’ll personally treat you the next time you visit as an apology.”
Xiang Wenxun, apologize?
Both President Zhang’s and the youth’s expressions changed.
With Xiang Wenxun’s background, they’d never heard of him apologizing to anyone.
President Zhang’s expression finally relaxed and he said, “That’s too kind of you.” He knew he should say some other courtesy words, but he really didn’t have it in him at that moment.
Wang Xiaoming felt the hand on his shoulder become heavier and heavier… He really wasn’t being courteous.
The two of them walked down slowly, step by step.
The Silver House had a unique architecture.
There was a top half and a bottom half.
Right now, they were on the stairs that came down from the upper levels.
President Zhang muttered, “Fuck me, what bad luck!”
Wang Xiaoming was terrified he’d get excited and slap him, so Wang Xiaoming kept quiet.
His silence infuriated President Zhang. “Hey, you mute?”
Wang Xiaoming said quietly, “N-no.”
President Zhang’s actions probably stretched his wounds, causing him to hiss in pain. After a while he asked, “What’s your name?”
“Wang…” Wang Xiaoming remembered Wang Sis and immediately said, “Ming Wang.”
“What the hell?” President Zhang frowned and turned around to look at him. “You look decent. What level are you?”
Wang Xiaoming didn’t know what he meant and cautiously answered, “English level four?”
President Zhang hurt everywhere but wanted to laugh. “I’m asking you how much your fee is.”
President Zhang squinted his eyes and asked, “You’re not a ‘young master’?”
The gears in Wang Xiaoming’s mind creakily turned for several revolutions before he realized: just now, he… had been ordered?