Chapter 11#

Ji Yang suspected that in Nie Xu’s eyes, he didn’t even qualify as a person at this moment—he was at best a wound that needed debridement, or a breathing object.#

The cotton swab wiped across the wound with surgical precision, clearing away the dust and debris one by one, giving Ji Yang a flawless experience of what “efficiency first, experience never” truly meant.

Jiang Lei walked in with the supplies and instinctively stepped back upon seeing the scene inside—then remembered that this young master had rolled up his pant leg in public, which was clearly no longer the same demeanor as when he used to be so self-conscious about being seen.

He leaned in. “Is it bad?” The question was directed at Nie Xu.

“Superficial abrasion.” Nie Xu replied while tossing the tweezers into a nearby tray, then casually grabbed a hydrocolloid dressing and tore it open.

Jiang Lei exhaled in relief. “You gave me a fright. When I saw you handling it yourself, I thought—”

“Thought I was about to drop dead at the entrance of Building Four, adding a glorious chapter to your professional careers.” Ji Yang watched the person who’d come in, lying limp on the sofa with barely enough energy to pick up the thread of conversation.

The tone was completely mimicked from Nie Xu.

Nie Xu glanced at him and said nothing.

Jiang Lei froze for a moment, then burst into laughter.

Despite his lingering doubts about the man, he still smiled and replied. “Not to that extent.” He propped his hand on Nie Xu’s shoulder. “This guy has a stack of first aid certifications—it’s impossible for him to let something like that happen under his nose.”

“Did you need something from me?” Nie Xu didn’t mind the two of them striking up a conversation and turned to Jiang Lei.

Jiang Lei said “oh” as he came back to his senses, unfolded two documents from his hands, and held them out. “I just finished verifying the partnership qualifications. These two need your signature.”

Nie Xu’s hands were occupied, so he gestured for him to set the papers on the coffee table first.

Jiang Lei put them down. Ji Yang swore he hadn’t looked on purpose.

The thing was, those documents were just lying there casually—his eyes swept over and caught them. The contents were all about firearms brands, models, and transfer conditions, prices, and such terms. The moment he realized what kind of contract it was, Ji Yang’s entire body went rigid.

The books all said that the reason the Ji family had spent so much manpower and money on the security center business was because their own dealings weren’t clean. And those dealings that couldn’t be put out in the open—more or less they involved people with identities like Nie Xu’s.

Ji Yang’s concept of “not clean” was generally limited to what novels described: straddling the line between the legitimate and the underworld, involvement in organized crime, prostitution, or gambling.

Ji Yang had previously been unsure which area Nie Xu was most involved in. Well, now he knew.

This was far more stimulating.

Perhaps his reaction was too obvious. Nie Xu looked up and frowned. “Don’t move.”

“Wouldn’t dare, wouldn’t dare.” Ji Yang had a vague guess now about what batch of goods Zhao Yuanfei had been after. His eyes stared blankly at the contract as he said slowly: “In front of outlaws like you all, who would dare to move?”

At most, he himself dabbled in petty theft.

At most, these people dabbled in illicit smuggling, trafficking arms and ammunition.

Ji Yang began to seriously consider whether his little advantage of having read the book before transmigrating into it was perhaps too arrogant an overestimation of his own capabilities.

After all, he didn’t have the protagonist’s halo—and being the villain, his reputation was already bad enough.

But just moments ago, when he’d mentioned the assistant thing, Nie Xu hadn’t objected.

What was going on?

“What outlaws?” Jiang Lei looked confused.

Nie Xu, however, had noticed his gaze and let out a scoffing laugh. “Only just realized you should be afraid? Isn’t it a bit late?”

“You mean this?” Jiang Lei caught on, picked up the contract and broke into a smile. He pulled out two documents from underneath and held them out to Ji Yang. “Take a look at these. If it were really illegal, would we just leave them lying around for you to see?”

Puzzled, Ji Yang took them and flipped through, discovering certificates like Weapons and Equipment Research, Production, and Filing Certificate and Quality System Certification Certificate.

Jiang Lei continued. “It’s not illegal just because it involves the military-industrial sector. Things like special materials and precision component production all go through precisely segmented, legally constructed government-enterprise channels. Over all these years, every piece of business that passed through our hands was entirely legal and compliant.” At this point, he shifted the topic, his tone meaningful. “But Fanzhou was indeed quite chaotic in the earlier years. Families like the Qi family—the eldest young lady’s fiancé—and the Lu family who made their fortune from oil extraction, all wanted to get involved. High profits, you know. There are always people willing to take the risk.”

Jiang Lei was reading between the lines.

What was legal was “Jianyuan.” What was illegal was the Ji family.

That was also why the Qi family had been so eager to arrange a marriage alliance with the Ji family.

Had Ji Mingyue agreed? It seemed not yet, Ji Yang mused to himself.

Just then, Nie Xu had finished treating his hands and feet and signaled that he could get up.

Nie Xu closed the medical kit, stood up, took the documents from Jiang Lei’s hands, and signed them in a few swift strokes. As he did, he said. “I received the latest transfer order this morning. An additional Class-A escort is to be assigned to the side of every direct-line member of the Ji family. Finalize the roster and give it to me—the deadline is tonight at the latest.”

“Got it.” Jiang Lei nodded, glanced at Ji Yang, and added. “Youli needs to go back to school. And beside the Fourth Young Master?”

“He doesn’t need one.” Nie Xu handed back the closed folder. “The old man specifically emphasized that his health is poor, and for now he falls under my jurisdiction. Twenty-four hours—I’ll handle it alone myself. I’ll be at the business banquet three days from now; command will transfer to Han Biao. You’ll provide coordination support.”

Jiang Lei didn’t even bother to consider that Ji Yang was present as he remarked with a light sneer. “They promote you one day and try to strip your authority the next?”

“They never intended to give it in the first place.” Nie Xu said. The so-called promotion was merely a temporary measure forced upon circumstances—a way to hold the line until the goods cleared port safely. This transfer order was entirely within expectations.

And in this whole chain of events, the only variable—

Nie Xu looked over and saw those wide eyes staring back, an expression of utter disbelief on his face. “You already received the transfer order?! And you still let me ramble on about the assistant thing for all that time? Were you just messing with me?”

Nie Xu seemed rather amused. “Wasn’t it you who proposed the exchange of conditions? Besides, an assistant is rather a novel occupation.”

Ji Yang had black lines all over his forehead.

This man had clearly already made up his mind, yet had watched him put on that entire one-man show without batting an eye—even going so far to say with such deadpan seriousness that he wanted to destroy Jianyuan.

Shifting the blame and smearing others—his heart and liver must be black through and through.

Ji Yang inspected his own wounds. Because the original owner had been so self-conscious about them, the number of people who had seen his leg was probably very few—yet Nie Xu had handled the whole thing just now with complete equanimity. The dressing was applied square and neat, without a single wrinkle.

He couldn’t find a flaw to pick at even if he wanted to.

“Since you’ve agreed to this, you should at least tell me what you need me to do, right?” Ji Yang no longer believed for a moment that his meager bargaining conditions could actually attract the other party.

But Nie Xu said: “Just maintain your status as the Ji family’s legitimate heir.”

Ji Yang paused, then understood. He now understood why, after having laid out such an elaborate plan, Nie Xu had not chosen Ji Chengyi—the protagonist shou—and instead had refrained from opposing his proposals time and time again.

Ji Chengyi wasn’t legitimate.

His status as an illegitimate son would indeed cause many obstacles—family trusts, asset succession, equity transfers, and all the related and potentially arising circumstances would all be troublesome for him.

Simpler still, as Wei Qiming had put it: this person had a childhood sweetheart bond forged in life-and-death. With someone like Ji Yang—who was far easier to use—there was no way he would choose the one he couldn’t bear to part with.

People really were the death of each other.

But having barely managed to cling to this thigh, Ji Yang was still willing.

Ji Yang lay on the sofa and softly sang, hopelessly off-key, eight hundred miles off the melody: “I’m willing for you, I’d walk through fire and water willingly too…”

Jiang Lei burst out laughing, his leg knocking against the edge of the coffee table hard enough that he nearly cried out.

Ji Yang said darkly: “If you didn’t die on the ship but end up dying here instead, I’ll jump off the fourth floor.”

Jiang Lei: “Huh?”

Nie Xu looked over, expressionless, and reminded him: “All the windows are sealed shut.”

Ji Yang: “Then I’ll headbutt the wall. Rolling down the stairs would work too.”

The topic had somehow veered wildly off in this direction.

Nie Xu stared at Ji Yang for two seconds, then spoke—though his words were addressed to Jiang Lei: “Find someone to draft an affiliation contract.”

Jiang Lei nodded slowly. “Sure… thing.”

Ji Yang’s expression finally softened.

As long as this matter was settled, his trip wouldn’t have been in vain.

Ji Yang rubbed his stomach and suddenly announced: “I’m hungry.”

Twelve thirty noon.

Building Four, second-floor cafeteria.

It was mealtime. Quite a few people who had just finished training, or had just returned from their shift, had gathered here.

Compared to the fourth floor reachable only by a single elevator, and the other classified areas secured with fingerprints, retinal scans, and heavy metals, the cafeteria was one of the liveliest spots in Building Four.

Though today’s usual raucous atmosphere was notably subdued.

At the leftmost serving counter, the person sitting there—with that unnaturally pale skin and frail body—looked like a white flour dumpling that had been unceremoniously thrown into a hot oil wok. Calling it “a leader mistakenly wandered into the staff cafeteria” wasn’t quite right either; calling it “a young master from high society come down to live among the common folk” didn’t fully fit either.

Because he was smiling at the serving lady behind the window: “Youli recommends your braised pork ribs above all else—says they’re the best thing he’s ever tasted in his life. So I came to try them.”

That one sentence had the plump auntie—whose ladle had been dancing with formidable energy—beaming until her teeth were invisible. Her hand stopped shaking, her words stopped being harsh. A generous scoop of glistening ribs was plopped into his tray, and she couldn’t help saying with genuine concern: “Oh my, how did you get hurt? Young masters are just too thin. These people in Building Four burn through so much energy every day—the cooking here is a completely different beast from the villa kitchen. If you like it, come eat here every day!”

“Alright!” The young master accepted readily.

This earned a chorus of boos from the surroundings.

But the moment they caught sight of the Chief and Captain Jiang Lei queuing up behind him, the boos were silently swallowed back.

Jiang Lei surveyed the scene, nudged Nie Xu’s shoulder. “A well-behaved one like him—from the eighty-year-olds down to kindergarten kids, he wins them over with a single sweet word.”

Nie Xu looked in the direction of the serving counter and let out a scoffing laugh. “You really think he’s well-behaved?”

Could a “good boy” drive Qi Yiming of the Qi family so crazy that he went around cursing anyone he saw? Get Wei Qiming tangled up in police trouble so bad he couldn’t escape? Repeatedly probe and test him, even take the initiative to come to his door and negotiate terms?

Jiang Lei: “And you, a big bad wolf, haven’t told him outright either—just the status of legitimate heir alone would cut into how many people’s shares of the pie.”

Nie Xu: “So in essence, he has become my employer and superior.”

Jiang Lei: “…”

Somehow, there was no flaw to be found.

Five minutes later, Ji Yang was seated at a window-side table on the left of the cafeteria.

Directly across from him was Nie Xu, with Jiang Lei beside Nie Xu.

At a table across the aisle sat Deng Jiao and Han Biao’s group—about seven or eight people in all.

Nobody was chatting. The occasional exchange was mostly about their respective recent work.

What broke this silence was Ji Yang’s phone, resting at the edge of the table.

The ringtone was delightfully cheerful.

Ji Yang had been eating with single-minded focus. He picked it up—unknown number.

“Hello.” Ji Yang had a piece of rib in his mouth as he uttered the greeting.

The other end was silent for a few seconds. Ji Yang was just wondering who it could be when he heard a voice come through the earpiece: “Little Yang, guess who I ran into today?”

Ji Yang was still chewing, recognized the voice, and frowned slightly. “Wei Qiming? Are the police that inefficient? You’re still not locked up?”

Suddenly, the sound of objects being smashed came from the other end of the phone.

Upon hearing it was Wei Qiming, Nie Xu signaled for him to put the phone on the table and put it on speaker.

Ji Yang complied.

No sooner had he set it down than the sound of what seemed like a vase shattering rang out.

Wei Qiming appeared to be speaking to someone on the other side: “Little Yang told me before that this is an antique auction house you frequent. It must be fate that we ran into each other here, wouldn’t you say? Is this the piece you were planning to bid on and give to a business partner? My apologies—I’ll compensate you?”

Ji Yang’s movements froze. A sense of impending trouble crept in.

He’d just been thinking that the past few days had been far too peaceful.

From the phone came a clear, furious voice: “What exactly do you want? I’m calling for people!”

Wei Qiming said: “I know that in a place like this, bodyguards aren’t allowed inside. I’m not trying to do anything—we could just move somewhere else…”

Ji Chengyi seemed to be speaking through gritted teeth as he interrupted: “The fact that bodyguards can’t come in—was that also something Ji Yang told you?”

Wei Qiming said: “Yes, he did. He promised me long ago that he’d introduce us.”

Your uncle’s.

Ji Yang was dumbfounded.

Ji Chengyi did indeed have some rather refined hobbies—they were one of the character’s shining traits. But Wei Qiming seeking out Ji Chengyi directly like this was supposed to be something that happened much later in the story.

Was it just because Ji Yang had sent Wei Qiming to the police station that the man had gone off the deep end early?

Wei Qiming turned back to him: “Little Yang, why don’t you talk to your third brother? Explain what you promised me back then. He’s a little worked up right now.”

Ji Yang: “…”

“Let’s go.” The person across from him had already risen.

Everyone else stood as well.

Ji Yang still had a piece of cartilage puffed out in his cheek. He looked up. “I… should go too?”

“You’re not coming?” The person sitting across from Deng Jiao at the next table spoke too quickly. “We all heard about the three of you planning to set someone up.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Deng Jiao smacked him on the head.

Deng Jiao looked toward Nie Xu and said quietly: “Boss, I’ll go contact the on-duty personnel first and have them check inside the auction hall.”

“Mm.” Nie Xu nodded. “The auction should be over by now. If there’s no one inside, have them seal the exits immediately.”

“Got it.”

Crack—a crisp sound.

Ji Yang had bitten through the piece of cartilage in his mouth, meeting a chorus of gazes turned his way.

Nie Xu tapped the table and simply asked, “Still not full?”

Wei Qiming seemed to have heard the noise and snapped out of his excitement at having encountered Ji Chengyi. He also asked: “Little Yang, are there a lot of people around you?”

“Yeah, yeah, a ton.” The kind of “a ton” you’d only get if you’d had eight lifetimes of terrible luck to be calling at a time like this.

Ji Yang smiled, pulled a napkin to wipe his mouth, crumpled it into a ball, and with a flick of his wrist, landed it perfectly in a distant trash bin.

Then he snatched up the phone and turned to leave first.

As he walked, he brought the mouthpiece to his lips and pulled a grin: “Wei Qiming, you’re done for. Truly done.”

The kind of done where you’d have your hand broken for touching Ji Chengyi and your eyes gouged out for having looked at him.