Chapter 040: Are You Done Yet?

Chapter 040: Are You Done Yet?

“He! Hung! Up! On! Me!” Wan Li’s eyes had nearly bulged out of her head, glaring at the phone like she meant to crush it bare-handed.

“He probably won’t call back,” Wu Chen offered.

She didn’t seem to hear him. Grinding out a string of curses, she jabbed the redial button.

“We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable…”

Dead. Just like that.

Blocked outright.

When it came to being a pretty boy living off women, Hu Xiaowei was a professional—he knew Wan Li’s temper well enough to know that the second she caught on, the only smart move was to disappear, and fast.

Because if Wan Li came after him, the fallout would be brutal.

Listening to that sweet automated recording, her face went green. She very nearly hurled the phone across the stairwell.

She understood now. Every word Wu Chen had said was true. Hu Xiaowei wasn’t home—he’d taken her money and gone straight to another girlfriend.

“Bastard!” Wan Li snarled through clenched teeth, flailing both hands through empty air, then stormed downstairs, murder in her stride, taking the steps two at a time, all but running.

Off to settle the score with Hu Xiaowei.

She seemed to have entirely forgotten she’d come here tonight to settle a score with Wu Chen, to win justice for her best friend. Her mind held nothing now but Hu Xiaowei, and the urge to tear him apart.

She’d left Mu Qianqian standing right outside Wu Chen’s door.

That alone said how furious she was.

If it had just been cheating, she wouldn’t have burned this hot.

She’d have walked away without a second thought.

It was what Wu Chen had said. That was what did it.

It made her understand this wasn’t a matter of a boyfriend’s heart wandering. From the very start, Hu Xiaowei had come for her money—treating her as a walking ATM to fund nights out with his lowlife friends and keep another woman on the side.

Her footsteps faded fast into the distance below.

Mu Qianqian looked distinctly awkward. She hadn’t come to cause trouble tonight; Wan Li had dragged her along. Now, facing Wu Chen alone, she didn’t quite know what to say.

“I should…” She gestured toward the stairs, hesitating, as if she still wanted to explain herself. But she was also anxious to catch up with her friend before something went wrong.

“Go on. I understand.” Wu Chen didn’t let her finish, just smiled.

Something warm stirred in her at that.

Because he’d said I understand, and hadn’t asked her to explain a thing. It gave her a strange, wonderful sense that he got her.

Mu Qianqian had always taken responsibility for her own choices.

She wasn’t the type of girl who’d hand a man her first time and then expect something owed in return.

She’d never believed his story about being trapped in the same day. She’d simply guessed his identity wrong—assumed Wan Li had arranged him. That mistake was entirely her own; Wu Chen had never claimed to be sent by anyone.

Last night had been mutual, wanted by both of them.

She’d never wanted to make trouble for him. She just wanted more time with him.

Because being around him was too interesting to walk away from.

“Guess I’ll go.” She smiled, stepped closer, rose on her toes, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then turned and dashed downstairs after Wan Li.

Just then—

Hurried footsteps rose from below again.

Mu Qianqian had barely reached the landing between the fourth and fifth floors when she saw Wan Li charging back up. The moment she spotted Wu Chen, she shouted, “That vixen’s address—say it again!”

He’d said it once already. She hadn’t caught it.

“201, Unit 3, No. 19 Fuyuan Road,” Wu Chen said. She’d cursed him out minutes ago, but he simply liked being helpful. Or, more honestly, he liked watching chaos unfold.

“Right, damn it, I’ll—” Wan Li spun and pounded back downstairs, still murderous. This time, though, she didn’t forget Mu Qianqian—she dragged her along.

Wu Chen stood at his door, listening to their footsteps fade until the stairwell went quiet.

“Kids,” he said with a soft laugh, then went in and shut the door.

He flipped on the lights first, changed into slippers, tossed his suit jacket over the arm of a chair, walked to the sofa, and dropped into it. He slouched back, relaxed, and let out a long breath.

Day one of his new life. Eventful. Satisfying.

He tipped his head back, thought for a moment, then pulled out his phone and typed one-handed, fingers flying.

…

Wan Li dragged Mu Qianqian out of the building so fast her shoes nearly flew off.

“Slow down, you maniac!” Mu Qianqian yelled.

“Hurry, Qianqian! We’re going to catch him in the act! Oh—give me back the baton!”

They sprinted out to the main road just as a taxi happened by. Wan Li flagged it down, and once they were in, she rattled off the address, then pulled out her phone and started calling for reinforcements.

Knowing Wan Li, she’d have charged in alone without a second thought.

But Wu Chen had rattled her earlier, and the lesson stuck. This time, she wanted a crowd behind her.

Mu Qianqian glanced over at her, worry creeping in. It wasn’t Hu Xiaowei she was worried about. It was what Wan Li’s temper might do if she actually caught him.

Then something else occurred to her.

She turned and looked out the back window, toward the alley mouth already far behind them.

She’d forgotten, again, to ask Wu Chen for his number.

Ding.

Her phone buzzed. An unfamiliar number, a text just five characters long.

This is my number.

She blinked, froze for a second, then broke into a soft laugh and saved the number under a name.

Wu Chen.

Half an hour after the two of them left, Wu Chen went back downstairs.

He’d changed into an old tracksuit from his college years.

He was out to exercise.

To train his body.

His physical condition was already solid. Lean-looking, sure, but genuinely healthy—under normal circumstances he didn’t need to work at it to stay in good shape day to day.

But.

He didn’t want his skills going to waste.

And by skills, he meant the physical kind, plainly.

Fighting, for instance.

He’d trained in it extensively—now carried a full command of technique, along with reflexes bordering on terrifying.

At his current physical level, eight or ten men coming at him at once might still not be enough to bring him down.

He could dodge through footwork and body movement alone, the way a professional boxer could stand rooted in place and slip punches with nothing but head and shoulder movement—no ordinary person lands a clean hit on a trained boxer’s head.

Wu Chen could do the same. And once he struck, the other side had next to no chance of getting out of the way.

Even facing a group, as long as he wasn’t fully surrounded and kept his footwork sharp, he could work through them one by one, so long as his stamina held.

But no matter how sharp his technique, it was still bound by the limits of his body.

Across the loop, only thought, memory, knowledge, and awareness carried forward. Anything physical reset completely.

So starting today, he’d decided, he was training his body.

For no other reason than to get stronger.

Soon.

Two hours later.

Past ten at night, Wu Chen jogged back into the alley soaked in sweat, slowing gradually from a run to a walk. His clothes clung to him, drenched through, but he felt good. Really good.

No telling whether his legs would ache tomorrow. Didn’t matter, as long as he could still walk.

Just before stepping into the building, he slowed, frowned faintly, then went in anyway.

He’d noticed it again—someone still watching him. All day now.

Getting old.

Since he knew exactly who’d sent the tail, he wasn’t worried about any threat. Whoever it was had some other purpose. He’d assumed they’d back off once they learned where he lived.

Instead, they showed no sign of stopping.

Back home, he showered first, then came out of the bathroom in a robe, picked up his phone, walked to the window, looked out over the alley, and dialed a number.

It connected fast.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end was cold.

“You’ve had someone on me all day,” Wu Chen said evenly. “Are you done yet?”