Chapter 29#

For the evening dinner treat, Ji Yang picked a Japanese restaurant that cost four figures per head.

The atmosphere was comfortable and the food was excellent.

Thick-cut foie gras, salmon, enormous lobster sashimi, mushroom truffle dishes, grilled bluefish—each dish had its own character. Rather than a team-building dinner, it was more like a pure feast for the senses.

“Aren’t we going too expensive?” Peng Jiaying asked at one point, having inquired about the cost, and it made his heart ache.

Ji Yang stuffed a mushroom into his mouth and said casually, “Isn’t the point of living to eat and sleep? If you can’t even indulge the most basic desire for good food, what’s the point of living?”

Peng Jiaying: “That’s pure sophistry. If a person can’t even control their basic appetite, how can they accomplish anything?”

Ji Yang nodded: “Sure, you go accomplish things. Let me bear the cost of this kind of sophistry all by myself—I’m more than happy to.”

Peng Jiaying: “……”

He recalled how, the first time he’d taken this young master out, he’d chosen a bar. They’d earned themselves a one-day tour of the police station that very night.

Back then, he’d thought Ji Yang was completely unreliable.

Impulsive, heedless of the consequences.

But “Yiyuan” had landed so quickly—without him, it would never have gotten this far.

Looking at him now, Peng Jiaying felt that reckless, table-flipping defiance Ji Yang used to carry—like he was ready to overturn the entire Ji family—had gradually faded as the Ji family kept running into one problem after another. He had settled down. And that settling wasn’t the overnight-maturity kind of growing up that people talk about when a family falls on hard times.

It was that he had slowed down, entirely. With even a trace of relaxation he himself hadn’t noticed.

As if he’d become more inclined to enjoy life in the present, whatever had happened or what lay ahead, no matter how big the upheaval around him.

As if he’d always been this way—someone naturally focused on his own feelings, an optimist.

Ji Yang thoroughly enjoyed the meal.

The atmosphere at “Yiyuan” was far better than he’d imagined. Young people, even fresh graduates. In their own words, if they hadn’t followed Boss Peng, they’d all be unemployed by now. But following Boss Peng, even fresh grads could become founding members within a few years.

A boundless future.

Everyone burst out laughing at the thought.

Ji Yang liked being around people with the same energy. In that moment, he was certain he hadn’t gone down the wrong path.

They were eating past seven o’clock when a lobster main course still hadn’t arrived. Qiao Qiao took a detour to the kitchen to rush them.

He came hurrying back halfway through.

“Behind… behind…”

Ji Yang was confused. He picked up a cup of clear tea and handed it over. “Behind what?”

“Behind you!” Qiao Qiao finally got the words out.

Ji Yang instinctively glanced back.

They were seated on the left side of the Japanese restaurant, having taken over several consecutive tables. It wasn’t just Ji Yang—quite a few others who’d heard Qiao Qiao’s words looked back at the same time, and they all wore that unmistakable “office worker belike” expression.

After all, nobody wants to run into their boss while eating. Especially their former boss.

Ji Yang hadn’t expected it either—that he’d bump into them just by picking a place to eat.

Ji Chengyi had never had authority over the new media department, but for the last Bayshore project, he’d briefly served as its direct project supervisor.

He was in front, Nie Xu behind him, followed by a group of men in tailored suits.

The setup looked like a business dinner.

With Ji Yang here, once the two sides crossed paths, pretending not to know each other was impossible.

Ji Chengyi paused, then played the role of the older brother well. He walked over and scanned the group. “Former colleagues’ reunion?”

“Current colleagues,” Ji Yang replied.

This answer clearly exceeded what Ji Chengyi had expected. He frowned and said nothing more. He looked like he wanted to leave—after all, greeting them first had already been enough of a show of his family upbringing.

Unfortunately, a middle-aged man behind him poked his head out and said with a smile, “Isn’t this Fourth Young Master? Since we’ve run into each other, why not join us?”

“President Huang,” Ji Chengyi said. “The Xianshi Cultural Tourism project has always had a dedicated point of contact. Ji Yang isn’t responsible for this division. Looking to him won’t help you.”

President Huang spoke up: “I heard that Fourth Young Master has resigned, but his recent influence has been so considerable—I wonder if Fourth Young Master would be interested in sitting down for a chat?”

At this point, Peng Jiaying leaned in close to Ji Yang’s ear. “I heard Haicheng invested in their amusement-themed cultural tourism project in two phases, which ties into Bayshore’s commercial planning. Now Haicheng is overwhelmed and there’ll be no second-phase investment. I’d bet President Huang is frantic. He’s treating you as the last-ditch horse in the ‘when the horse is dead, treat it as if it were alive’ scenario. But this President Huang does have another project on hand—just so happens it overlaps with the planning I did before…”

Ji Yang raised an eyebrow and looked over at President Huang—only to spot the person standing beside him.

Ji Yang locked eyes with him.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Brother Xu,” Ji Yang called out deliberately.

President Huang looked surprised. “Fourth Young Master, you’re close with Assistant Nie?”

Ji Yang said slowly: “More than close…”

“Ji Yang!” Ji Chengyi cut him off forcefully. “If you’re coming, then come. This is a formal occasion.”

“Third Brother, you make me sound so informal.” Ji Yang rose cheerfully and looked at Nie Xu. “I was just going to say that when I was at Haicheng, Assistant Nie was still my assistant. Should still count now, shouldn’t it? No problem with that, Assistant Nie?”

Nie Xu glanced at him and nodded: “No problem.”

President Huang showed an expression of sudden understanding. “So that’s how it is.”

Ji Chengyi was probably suspecting that Ji Yang was going to sabotage the dinner. His gaze toward him remained guarded throughout.

Unfortunately, Ji Yang had no such intention.

Ji Yang told Peng Jiaying and the others to finish and leave first, then followed the group to the private room.

In this kind of large Japanese restaurant private room, the width was limited. Seated across a long table, nobody sat too far apart.

Ji Yang sat at the very end, next to President Huang.

Across from him was Nie Xu, who hadn’t stolen the spotlight at all.

From the moment they sat down, Ji Yang listened to them begin with mutual pleasantries, then exchange veiled barbs. Facing these old-timers of the business world, Ji Chengyi struggled somewhat. Usually at moments like these, he would deliberately toss the conversation to Nie Xu, giving the impression of two people working in secret coordination, with seamless tacit understanding.

Ji Yang had already eaten his fill. After more dishes arrived, he rarely touched his chopsticks.

President Huang was quite the character too.

In his early forties, his thinking was still remarkably modern. After inviting Ji Yang over, he seemed to have no interest in arguing with the others anymore, and instead kept talking excitedly about Ji Yang’s account.

President Huang: “I’ve been studying your account, Fourth Young Master. Your only livestream to date peaked at over 280,000 concurrent viewers, with a minimum of 86,000. That airport interview segment has accumulated over 47 million views across the internet, related topics have surpassed 200 million views, and topic discussions exceed 120,000 comments. The key is that daily growth has consistently maintained a rate of over 5,000 new followers. At this scale, monetization is no issue at all.”

And this was the daily growth rate after the Ji family scandal had broken.

It meant this young master possessed a surefire ability to convert data into money.

Ji Yang listened without a flicker of emotion.

The truth was, this kind of data analysis had been a mandatory discussion segment at every regular meeting in his company in his previous life. Hearing it really gave him nothing. The only thing that surprised him was that someone had studied it more meticulously than he himself had.

Ji Yang leaned sideways and whispered: “President Huang, honestly speaking, most of the buzz is just the bonus of my identity as a wealthy family’s young master. If you’re hoping to attract new investment through me, I’m afraid that’ll be very difficult.”

President Huang immediately: “How would you know without trying—”

“I’m willing to try.” Ji Yang cut him off directly. Before the other party could react, he added with a smile: “But not the way President Huang is thinking. I heard President Huang has a small-town cultural tourism marketing project on hand. Would you consider working with ‘Yiyuan’?”

President Huang blinked. “Yiyuan?”

Ji Yang nodded: “Yes. Yiyuan primarily handles brand promotion, content, and related services—which aligns with what President Huang is looking for…”

President Huang went from initial dissatisfaction at being turned from hunter to prey, to gradually taking him seriously.

This corner seemed to have split from the rest of the business dinner into an entirely separate segment, and Ji Yang was brazenly pitching his company right at the table.

At the height of President Huang’s excitement, he insisted on pouring sake and toasting Ji Yang.

Seeing that collaboration was within reach, Ji Yang didn’t refuse. He picked up his cup and let the other man fill it to the brim.

This sake had a mellow, smooth flavor with a rich fruity aroma. Quite good, actually.

Ji Yang downed half a cup in one gulp and couldn’t suppress a small burp. He only set the cup down and noticed that the atmosphere at the table had shifted several times, settling into a state of subtle tension.

Ji Chengyi’s expression was rather unpleasant. The other men in suits weren’t doing much better, especially the one surnamed Pan, who looked the most furious.

But the person across the table—

Ji Yang noticed that Nie Xu was turning a small ceramic cup upside down between his fingers. His expression betrayed nothing, but Ji Yang had the sense that his seemingly cooperative attitude all evening wasn’t the attitude of someone genuinely trying to resolve things.

Ji Yang couldn’t quite understand.

It was true that Nie Xu was using Ji Chengyi, but when the other party was clearly being pressured, shouldn’t he have reacted differently?

He looked at Nie Xu. Nie Xu raised his eyes and looked back at him simultaneously.

Ji Yang noticed Nie Xu’s gaze land on the sake cup in his hand. He blinked, then mouthed: You want a drink?

As he spoke, he reached for the sake bottle nearby and pushed it forward.

Nie Xu glanced at the gesture, then looked away, expressionless.

Ji Yang: “……”

Baffling.

Fine, don’t drink then.

If you won’t drink, I will.

Ji Yang took the sake bottle back.

He heard Nie Xu finally deem the atmosphere ripe enough, and speak up: “You’re all aware of the group’s current situation. Funds won’t be arriving for the time being.”

The one surnamed Pan couldn’t sit still anymore. He barked: “You’re just an assistant—what game are you playing with me!”

“President Pan!” Ji Chengyi said with displeasure: “Nie Xu is—”

“President Pan.” Nie Xu was clearly unfazed by the outburst. He pulled a document from the briefcase beside him and slid it across the table. His tone remained composed: “This is an addendum to the supplementary agreement your company signed with the group this March—specifically the clause on the penalty cap. You all should remember that at the time, to ensure the project timeline, the group left a delayed-completion compensation calculation method in the clause. By that calculation, the penalty you could currently receive exceeds the compensation claims that would result from a supply cutoff by thirty to forty percentage points.”

The entire table fell silent.

The one surnamed Pan picked up the document and examined it. His expression went from impatient to suspicious, then from suspicious to a subtly uncertain look. He must have done the math in his head, and the anger that had been building was doused like a bucket of cold water.

Nie Xu didn’t look at Pan anymore. He turned his gaze to the others, his tone mild: “The group’s current trouble is merely a temporary cash flow issue. Those of you who do business understand what ’temporary difficulties in cash flow’ means. Once the projects restart in a year, everything lost now will come back doubled.”

With a mix of pressure and persuasion, every trace of dissatisfaction was utterly silenced.

These business partners had likely taken it to heart. Making a fuss for days on end was really just out of fear that there’d be nothing to gain—worried that profits couldn’t keep up with the rate of losses.

But Ji Yang knew that Nie Xu’s words were half true, half false.

The truth was that the projects did have plans in place. The lie was that there was no “after a year” at all—where would there be to restart?

And Ji Yang couldn’t shake the feeling that this dinner wasn’t merely about “resolving trouble” for Haicheng Group.

The atmosphere at the table warmed.

Ji Yang pondered what Nie Xu was really scheming. Before he knew it, several more cups of sake had gone down.

By the time the dinner ended, it was past nine.

Ji Yang was still fairly sober. He got up and walked out alongside President Huang, discussing a time for their next meeting to go over specifics.

“When did you start a company?” It was Ji Chengyi.

Ji Yang turned around and realized that it was Ji Chengyi and Nie Xu following behind him. They stood one step apart, both looking every bit the corporate elite.

In contrast, he himself wore a white T-shirt with a shirt-jacket over it. Because he’d felt hot, the jacket was now hanging off him with no proper shape at all.

Walking alongside this crowd, it really did clash.

“I don’t think I need to account to you?” Ji Yang said.

Nie Xu’s steps didn’t pause. He passed between the two of them. “Excuse me.”

He went straight to the front desk, took out his wallet, and prepared to settle the bill.

Ji Chengyi pulled his gaze back from the front desk and said again: “That President Huang—Huang Kai—tonight, he has connections through the Xile Gate organization in Fanzhou. You’d better not offend him or cause some big trouble for the family.”

Xile Gate? Wasn’t that the biggest local syndicate in Fanzhou from the book?

And if he remembered correctly, Ji Chengyi’s kidnapping all those years ago had been the work of Xile Gate people.

Mentioning Xile Gate should evoke pain, fear, and helplessness. But now he was turning around and warning Ji Yang, which seemed more like he was wary of Ji Yang reaching an agreement with President Huang.

Ji Yang was suspicious and innocent: “But President Huang brings in money, you know.”

“Money?” Ji Chengyi frowned: “You’d throw everything else aside just for money?”

Ji Yang laughed aloud: “Third Brother really has lived too good a life. Such lofty and noble words—only coming from your mouth does it not feel so annoying.”

After all, you’re the protagonist.

Completely different from a slave to money like me.

The sarcasm threatened to overflow from Ji Yang. Ignoring Ji Chengyi’s dark expression, he followed to the counter to pay.

As he pulled out his phone, he happened to see Nie Xu receiving his bank card and receipt back from the server.

Ji Yang reached out and grabbed the man’s forearm.

Nie Xu glanced sideways.

Ji Yang: “I’m out of money.”

Nie Xu: “And?”

“So you pay.” Ji Yang said immediately.

The man carrying his assistant title had gone and become someone else’s assistant. Spending a bit of his money was only fair, wasn’t it?

Nie Xu stared at him for a moment, then took out his bank card again and handed it to the server.

Ji Yang leaned against the counter from the side, watching at an angle.

Between his brows, there was a warm flush from the sake—light, but it gave him an air of reckless indulgence.

The cashier kept glancing at his face.

Nie Xu tapped the counter to get Ji Yang’s attention: “You’re blocking the line.”

Ji Yang came back to himself and stepped aside to let the next person pay. The server also snapped to and sped up the motion.

When Ji Yang got his receipt and saw the amount on it, he smiled broadly. “Thanks, Boss” slipped out of his mouth.

Nie Xu headed for the door and remarked: “You’re quite drunk.”

“I’m perfectly sober, you know,” Ji Yang protested.

Five minutes later, he was sitting in the back seat of the car Nie Xu had called a designated driver for, waiting for Ji Chengyi and Nie Xu to finish their farewells to the other businessmen. He nearly fell asleep against the car window.

The car door opened. Ji Yang struggled to turn his sluggish brain.

“Can we go?” He shifted into a different position, leaning back against the seat.

No one answered for a long time.

Ji Yang opened his eyes and saw that the only one who had gotten in was Nie Xu.

He looked around. “Where’s Ji Chengyi?”

Nie Xu glanced at the rearview mirror. “Your eldest brother came out. He went to pick someone up.”

Ji Yang used what few brain cells he had left to think about it.

He sympathized with Ji Chengyi’s exhaustion. “So busy. And the Second Madam doesn’t even like him. Rushing over like that—isn’t that just asking to be treated like garbage?”

“You have time to worry about him?” Nie Xu spoke while loosening his tie, then nodded to the driver to start the car.

Ji Yang noticed the motion. He felt that Nie Xu was letting far more emotion show than he had at dinner—as if all the suppressed dissatisfaction from the evening, the reluctance to play these games, the disgust for this kind of occasion were finally being released.

Because of Ji Chengyi?

Ji Yang nodded: “I understand. You’re in a bad mood.”

“What makes you say I’m in a bad mood?” Nie Xu asked.

Ji Yang: “Well, you just asked me back. If you were in a good mood, would you even bother talking to me?”

But Nie Xu’s one-handed unbuttoning was genuinely something to watch. His index finger hooked the collar, thumb pressing down in a single, slow, effortless motion.

The movement was unhurried and casual. But the point was—his hands were beautiful.

Bony, strong, faint blue veins running along the back of his hand. Under the dim car interior light, they looked like hidden rivers beneath the skin, carrying a quiet, steady power.

“What are you looking at me for?” Nie Xu suddenly turned his head and asked.

It gave Ji Yang a secret, uneasy illusion.

He’d seen through it.

Seen through the fact that Ji Yang, overwhelmed by desire, was audaciously lusting after someone who was currently just a bodyguard but would, in the future, be able to kill him.

Ji Yang’s survival instincts maxed out, and he resorted to sophistry: “You weren’t looking at me—how do you know I was looking at you?”

Just then, headlights swept across the interior, light and shadow gliding over Nie Xu’s profile.

He let out a soft scoff.

“Quick to cave, aren’t you.”