Chapter 3#

The Ji family’s bayfront manor sat in the most bustling core of Fanzhou’s mid-ring district. Owing to its prime geographical location, its vast and gently sloping grounds offered sweeping views of both the eastern and western shores. The property group’s top-tier service and annual fees eye-watering enough to stun even the most jaded — not to mention the surrounding high-end villas and estates in the exclusive wealthy district — made the semi-cradled manor appear all the more secluded and mysterious.

At night, lights encircled the grounds, resplendent and stately.

Centered on the main castle building, the distance between the remaining structures and the main hall was determined by the status of their occupants.

Among all of them, there was only one building that was somewhat special.

Building Four.

It had no special name. The only reason it was called Building Four was because it was located at the northeast corner behind the main building, with the coastline further back, at a distance from the main building that was neither too far nor too close.

It offered independent and sufficient space to construct various training bases, while also allowing the fastest possible arrival at the designated mission center in emergencies.

This was none other than the Ji family’s security command center.

Ensuring the core operations here was the guarantee of that transparent protective wall above the family, and the key to maintaining the Ji family’s long-settled, quiet peace.

From the outside, the building stood four stories tall — so ordinary that it clashed entirely with the other structures in the manor. But up close, one would discover that even the seemingly most unremarkable windows were made of special materials. Simple at a glance, yet upon closer inspection, every detail conveyed strict discipline and a rigid hierarchy.

Eight o’clock in the evening, and people in the second-floor guard cafeteria were still fuming.

One of the newly transferred reserve guards, You Li, tossed the fork in his hands and leaned back against his chair with his arms crossed.

He had only just come of age — compared to the others in the squad, he barely registered. His excessively curly hair fell over his ears, and a freshly sprouted pimple sat on his chin, his face radiating adolescent energy.

Sitting across from him, Jiang Lei glanced over and said with an amused laugh, “So angry you won’t even eat? Don’t go crying during training later. I’m at least the squad leader of Group One — accompaniment for meals and training — you’re the only one who gets this kind of treatment.”

“I know,” You Li muttered with frustration. “They all say I’m a nepotism hire.”

At this point he lowered his voice in a mumble. “But I’ve been here for a month and haven’t even seen his face.”

Something seemed to cross You Li’s mind, worry tinting his brow, and he asked Jiang Lei across the table, “He’s really okay, isn’t he? I heard…”

Jiang Lei, nearly eight years his senior, didn’t need it spelled out to understand what he was asking. He tapped his chopsticks twice on the table, ensuring they were straight, then said with a smile, “Heard what? That he was beaten half to death? With just the wrist strength of a rich young master, do you think he could really injure him that badly?” At this, a flash of disgust crossed Jiang Lei’s face. “It’s just that those particular whips are custom-made for certain perverse tastes — the lashes they leave look worse than they actually are.”

You Li grew angrier, his face turning a shade or two more livid.

He didn’t understand. “Isn’t he supposed to be incredibly capable?”

How could he let some deranged young master hand out arbitrary punishments based on baseless conjecture?

He couldn’t figure it out, so he asked.

Jiang Lei’s chopsticks paused mid-shoveling-rice, then he stood and set them down.

Only then did he speak. “About this matter — even if I told you, you kids wouldn’t understand. It’s a legacy of history.” Jiang Lei propped his elbows on the table and leaned in a couple of inches. “Let me put it this way: in your eyes, your Brother Xu probably still looks like that blood-soaked, hero-like big brother from ten years ago who accidentally stumbled into your house and saved your grandmother, your grandfather, your father, your mother, your aunt — and eight-year-old you. But I have to tell you, he was also eighteen that year, and he was already a squad leader. He wasn’t just an all-around prodigy — his mind was razor sharp. ‘Merit so high it threatens the throne’ — you understand? You think he came in the way you did, through this proper contract system that spells out your shift schedules and overtime pay? What he signed back then — calling it a life contract wouldn’t be an exaggeration.”

You Li was engrossed, gripping his hand tightly as he asked, “And then? He couldn’t fight back? I heard that Fourth Young Master acts like he’s got a screw loose, and he’s incredibly difficult.”

“No choice,” Jiang Lei said, shaking his head with exaggerated helplessness. “He already signed the contract — twenty full years.”

You Li slammed the table. “These rich people are truly too much!”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jiang Lei quickly raised a hand to stop him. “Nobody cares what you say behind closed doors, but you can’t go spouting things like that in public. Deducting your pay would be the least of your problems.”

Seeing the kid completely deflated, Jiang Lei found it amusing and reached out to tousle his hair.

“I’ve already got your school sorted. You start next week.”

“Huh?” You Li looked up, his expression one of existential disbelief. “When did I say I was going to school? And — were you just messing with me with all that stuff you said earlier?”

“What do you mean, messing with you? Your Brother Lei here is one hundred percent authentic. If you don’t go to school, how are you going to come back and save Brother Xu from the fire?” Jiang Lei tapped the bowl across from him, issuing the command: “Eat!”

Twenty minutes later, Jiang Lei whistled his way up to the top floor, the fourth level, and pushed open the meeting room at the far right end of the corridor.

Only the area lights were on in the meeting room.

Beneath rows of real-time surveillance monitors on the walls, a man leaned against the long table with both hands planted on its surface. He wore a simple black short-sleeved shirt and cargo pants, the utilitarian outfit lending his already superior physique an additional two degrees of fierce sharpness. When the door opened, he didn’t react at all, his gaze remaining fixed on the screen ahead.

Not until he picked up the walkie-talkie in his hand.

“Team A, keep an eye on the west side of the perimeter wall.”

“Mixed Team, cross-check.”

“Deng Jiao, move upward and pay attention to detail sweeps.”

The walkie-talkie’s indicator light blinked. After a faint trace of static, a woman’s voice came through.

“No, did everyone on monitor duty get taken out? Even if they all did, there’s still the reconnaissance mobile support team. And at worst, the intelligence convoy’s snipers still have people. Boss, now you’re even personally supervising routine inspections? Every time I hear your voice I nearly have a heart attack. The pressure’s killing me.” Two seconds passed, then she added with a teasing lilt, “Hehe — congratulations on the promotion, by the way. I heard you’re on ‘vacation’? That young master suddenly so generous?”

Nie Xu tapped the walkie-talkie, his tone carrying a warning: “Get back to work. Stop messing around.”

Soon another male voice cut in: “I think Deng Jiao’s gotten too big for her boots. Forgot that when the boss was squad leader, the words ‘spare the women’ didn’t exist in his dictionary. Careful he doesn’t hang you upside down with a bucket on your head.”

Deng Jiao: “Get lost.”

Anyone who spoke to Nie Xu like that could at least be judged as someone who had known him for many years. They still habitually called him “Boss,” and now held important roles — or even leadership positions — in various division groups.

Nie Xu: “Shift change at ten on the dot. Everyone keep track of time.”

Seeing Nie Xu turn off the walkie-talkie, Jiang Lei finally pushed the door shut behind him.

Nie Xu set the walkie-talkie casually on the edge of the long table.

He turned and asked: “Talked them around?”

“Leave it to me and you’re still not confident?” Jiang Lei walked over, dragged a nearby chair, and sat down without ceremony. Only then did he let out a somewhat helpless smile. “Kids these days are really not easy to fool. Going to school is like asking them to give up their life. Not like us back then — juggling a dozen or so courses on top of training. Who dared to complain?”

Nie Xu sat down in a chair nearby.

Perhaps because of the environment, and the person sitting across from him was someone he trusted enough, his posture carried a rare hint of relaxation.

He seemed to be in a decent mood. “When I agreed to let him in, it was also because his family had some issues. Now that it’s passed, he should return to normal life.”

Jiang Lei glanced at him. “You already repaid the You family’s kindness ten years ago. Honestly, admitting your heart isn’t all that hard doesn’t seem so bad, does it? Otherwise, after all these years, how could you still be maintaining contact with the You family? Besides, the one who worked as a nanny at your house was You Li’s grandmother. All these years, anyone who tried to pry into their family’s affairs was blocked by you. I reckon the You family definitely intended for You Li to follow you.”

The moment he finished speaking, a ding came from Nie Xu’s phone lying on the table.

They all had dedicated work phones, and when necessary, different employers were assigned specialized notification tones.

Jiang Lei frowned. “A mission?”

Nie Xu picked up the phone, glanced at it, then set it back down.

“No.”

Jiang Lei picked up where he’d left off: “Being young is just an excuse. You just think the timing isn’t right.”

Ding again, not long after.

Jiang Lei watched Nie Xu stare expressionlessly at the now-lit phone. This time he didn’t even pick it up.

Jiang Lei: “Who is it?”

Nie Xu: “Ji Yang.”

Jiang Lei, slowly: “…Oh.”

He finally understood why Nie Xu had ignored it outright.

He’d witnessed more than once the state of that young master bombarding Nie Xu with messages. Many times, calling it a “carpet bombing” was generous — substantive content was virtually nonexistent, and meaningless notifications came in droves.

The man had a possessive obsession with Nie Xu that bordered on pathological, as if being his personal bodyguard made him a possession.

This time, though, it was somewhat unusual.

Once every few minutes, intervals neither too long nor too short — exactly two minutes apart.

Five messages in total.

On the fifth, Nie Xu finally picked up the phone and replied.

Jiang Lei casually asked: “What does he want now?”

Nie Xu tapped away on the phone: “Who knows what little trick he picked up from somewhere. Probably trying to retreat to advance.”

Jiang Lei frowned and said: “Him? It’s only because you didn’t let them, otherwise Han Biao and the others would’ve charged in last night. Two years ago Ji Yang was involved in an illegal street-racing accident, and the old man used that as a pretext to force this piece of useless trash onto you. Meanwhile, they had no choice but to keep letting you sell your life for them.” He then subconsciously added, “Your family doesn’t count. You’re pretty well-off now yourself, so it doesn’t count.”

Nie Xu put his phone away and ran his fingers along the watch on his wrist.

“Not the right time yet.”

He looked out the window as he spoke. “But it’s coming soon.”

His words were vague, but Jiang Lei understood.

When they were still children — or even earlier, so far back that Fanzhou’s largest transport and trading port hadn’t yet broken ground and this manor hadn’t yet belonged to the Ji family — they had already known each other.

Then Jiang Lei grew a little worried. “You accelerated the dock seafaring matters this time, forcing the old man to hand you the Chief Security Officer position. Aren’t you afraid he’ll catch on? These past two years he’s been pushing Lu Li’s promotion aggressively, placing him under Ji Zhonglin. Once he realizes he can’t control you anymore, he’ll definitely burn the bridge. Isn’t this a bit too hasty?”

Nie Xu tapped the table with his index finger. “It’s not hasty.” He tilted his chin, gesturing to the phone now back on the table. “Perfect timing — a good bait just volunteered itself.”

“You mean the crazy young master?” Jiang Lei frowned. “Wouldn’t Ji Chengyi be more suitable? He has the bond of having been rescued from kidnapping back then, plus his ability to rise within the Ji family. Even if he finds out something at that point, he wouldn’t go around telling everyone.”

Nie Xu shook his head. “He won’t do.”

Jiang Lei wasn’t quite sure — did that mean Ji Chengyi himself wasn’t suitable, or that Nie Xu didn’t want to use him?

He leaned toward the latter.

After all, over the years, the two seemed to have little interaction, but regarding everything Ji Chengyi did — even when it sometimes disrupted their original plans — Nie Xu never deliberately paid attention, yet never stopped him either.

Perhaps this Third Young Master was… special?

Jiang Lei asked him: “Are you sure you want to go with the Fourth?”

Nie Xu neither confirmed nor denied. “Regardless of who pointed him in this direction, he genuinely is more suitable.”

At least the current him.

His act was quite convincing.

Jiang Lei shook his head. “Only you could be so pragmatic — recycling garbage and still making the most of it. But then again, he even hit you — insult plus harassment. Did you apply ointment?”

Nie Xu: “No need.”

Ji Yang had no idea that in Jiang Lei’s mind, he had already become the poster child for the old saying — kill the horse once the grind is done.

If he knew…

He’d realize that he had indeed stumbled into the right spot by sheer accident.

In the original novel’s plot, the first half was mostly about Ji Chengyi’s rise to power, along with his conquest of hearts, displays of charisma, and entanglements with the various male leads. Had Ji Yang overheard Jiang Lei’s conversation, he’d have discovered that the people mentioned — Lu Li, and Ji Zhonglin, the eldest son of the Ji family’s second branch — were all on Ji Chengyi’s CP list.

Even You Li would later become an obstacle to the romantic development between Ji Chengyi and Nie Xu.

Simply because Ji Chengyi suspected that Nie Xu harbored special feelings for You Li.

Nie Xu didn’t appear much in the early stages. His identity was merely the personal bodyguard of the protagonist’s younger brother — the disabled one. Only when Ji Chengyi became entangled with other male leads, and “Ji Yang” appeared as the “other man,” would Nie Xu’s shadow come into play.

His interactions with Ji Chengyi existed solely in things like intercepting a slap “Ji Yang” tried to throw, or dealing with substances “Ji Yang” had slipped into drinks at a KTV.

Each appearance was effective, yet it could equally be explained as Nie Xu simply doing his job.

Readers might have vaguely intuited that Nie Xu’s identity was far from ordinary.

But from Ji Chengyi’s perspective, Nie Xu was that one particularly special existence — which was why, as soon as he’d recently clawed his way back, he’d gone to the old man to claim him.

And the major turning point between them — the moment they reached a surface-level cooperation — in the original novel, was precisely this juncture.

Now it had been taken over by him.

Moreover, Ji Chengyi didn’t know either.

Nie Xu’s appearance in the Ji family had never been about servitude. It was about vengeance.

A mad dog will eventually bite the hand that feeds it.

The moment before a tsunami raises its towering waves, the sea is always perfectly calm.

For Ji Yang, it didn’t matter whether Nie Xu believed his motives. As long as he agreed to the proposal, it meant this vicious villain still had room to struggle.

But Ji Yang was deep in thought.

A full day had passed.

And he was still learning to walk.

Who would believe it — he’d lived twenty-four years, and this body was around twenty-three, and he was still… learning to walk!

He tossed the phone Nie Xu had rejected aside, gripped his crutch, and circled the coffee table in practice of his balance.

The daytime had been sheer chaos. The medication’s side effects had him sprawled on the sofa, asleep for the entire afternoon. He hadn’t gone upstairs, and from start to finish, no one had come near him.

The so-called Ji family’s direct bloodline all lived in houses connected to the main building. Push open a side door and you could walk straight into the main hall. However, the main building always maintained its own complete set of staffing standards, serving only the highest decision-maker.

Ten o’clock.

The sound of a car engine shutting off rang out beyond the gate once more.

A man carrying a briefcase strode through the door.

A servant hurried over to take the overcoat he’d just removed.

“Eldest Young Master,” the servant said. “What would you like for dinner? I’ll have the kitchen prepare it.”

“Whatever’s fine,” Ji Zhonglin replied.

In the small living room, Ji Yang leaned on his crutch and locked eyes with the man rolling up his sleeves.

The man’s gaze swept over him top to bottom, his brow furrowing tighter with each pass.

“Waiting for me?”

Ji Yang glanced down at his own legs, then shook his head. “Just too lazy to go up. Too much trouble.”

This hundred-percent-honest statement, in Ji Zhonglin’s eyes, read as an excuse.

“I’ve heard about what happened today. You were in the wrong first. Begging for mercy is pointless.”

He walked a couple of steps closer.

On the TV screen ahead, an entertainment reporter was holding forth.

“Our field reporter’s camera captures the scene firsthand. The Third Young Master was helped out of the bar by a companion and got into a luxury car by the roadside, clearly in poor spirits. The drama of the Ji family’s first branch in Fanzhou has always drawn intense public interest — rumors about an illegitimate son and a legitimate son persist endlessly. According to insiders, earlier today, the two brothers staged a ‘fighting over a man’ farce due to a mysterious unidentified person. Does the Third Young Master’s current state truly confirm such rumors? Stay tuned…”

Ji Zhonglin’s expression darkened instantly. He tugged at his tie and sat down in the spot where Ji Yang had been soaking his feet earlier.

He picked up his phone and made a call. “Pull that news piece. I sent him there for a business discussion — look at the garbage the media is writing! And run a check on the house. They dare leak any information outside.”

After finishing his instructions, he hung up. Turning back to Ji Yang, he said: “Two years ago you insisted the street-racing accident was a frame-up by Ji Chengyi. True or false, I froze his accounts.”

“Your legs — I’ve searched high and low for doctors, domestic and international. He fainted during work-study, and it was only the assistant who told me.”

“Beating and cursing everyone since childhood — isn’t that enough?”

Ji Yang thought to himself: Here it comes, here it comes.

The novel’s second most popular character — the eldest brother of the Ji family’s second branch, carrying that air of taboo and moral transgression — was approaching with his late-awakened remorse and heartbreak!

Ji Zhonglin pointed at the TV: “Now it’s even worse — making a spectacle like this. I think I’ve spoiled you too much in the past.”

Perhaps recalling who this bodyguard was — the man widely heralded as the Ji family’s pre-determined successor — a sharp edge of hostility flickered across his brow. “Getting involved with a bodyguard — is that something to be proud of? And dragging Ji Chengyi into the mud — are you saying he’s just like you?”

Ji Yang blinked.

“Um… Big Brother.”

“Whether Ji Chengyi likes my bodyguard or not, I don’t know. But we really aren’t involved.”

“I’m unrequited.”

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