Chapter 042: Something Happened

Chapter 042: Something Happened

Wang Zhuangyuan had genuinely been terrified yesterday.

Not of Wu Chen himself—though he knew Wu Chen was no ordinary man. The men he’d sent to tail him had reported everything back: Lu Guangnian pulling Wu Chen aside outside the restaurant for a private word, Li Ruobing driving him home and kissing him goodbye. He knew all of it. He just didn’t understand what any of it meant. All he knew was that Wu Chen was formidable, resourceful, likely backed by something large.

What actually frightened him was Li Ruotai.

That Wu Chen could call him directly had already rattled him badly, because his mind jumped straight to one thought: the number must have come from Li Ruotai. How else would Wu Chen have it?

What he dreaded most was the possibility that Wu Chen would tell Li Ruotai everything—that he’d put men on him.

Because this touched Li Ruobing.

Everyone in Donghai knew how fiercely Li Ruotai protected his sister. Everyone on the street understood the rule better than any other: cross whoever you like, but never cross Li Ruobing.

That was worse, far worse, than crossing Li Ruotai himself.

Cross Li Ruotai, and given his temperament, he’d still hear you out. So long as he hadn’t yet lost his temper completely, a proper apology, a bit of groveling, could still smooth things over.

But cross Li Ruobing—

You might not even get the chance to explain yourself to Li Ruotai at all.

And yesterday, though the men Wang Zhuangyuan sent had been tailing Wu Chen, Wu Chen had never once left Li Ruobing’s side. Which meant, the entire time, they’d been shadowing her too.

And Wu Chen was Li Ruotai’s brother-in-law.

His real brother-in-law.

If Li Ruotai ever found out… Wang Zhuangyuan broke into a cold sweat just thinking about it. Li Ruotai had raised him up himself; he knew the man’s methods far too well to feel safe. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to explain himself clearly enough—afraid Li Ruotai might not even give him the chance to try.

He’d tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.

More than once he’d picked up his phone, wanting to call Wu Chen, explain himself, feel out whether Wu Chen had already told Li Ruotai.

In the end, he never made the call.

Because Wu Chen had called first, and before hanging up, he’d said he was going to sleep. Calling him back now would only irritate him—and something that might not amount to much could easily turn into a real disaster over a badly timed phone call.

So Wang Zhuangyuan left home the moment the sky began to lighten.

He came to stand outside Wu Chen’s building.

He didn’t go up to bother him. He just waited for Wu Chen to come down.

…

Wu Chen looked him over. Wang Zhuangyuan, normally so composed, so polished—a civilized beast in a well-cut shirt—looked distinctly worn out today. His hair had gone a little greasy, and dark circles ringed his eyes.

“Mr. Wu, honestly, I wanted to explain. I wasn’t—”

He didn’t finish, again.

Wu Chen raised a hand to quiet him, glanced down the alley, and gestured that way. “Had breakfast? There’s a decent place up ahead.”

He started walking.

Wang Zhuangyuan fell into step immediately.

“I haven’t told Atai,” Wu Chen said as they walked, glancing over at him. “Relax.”

It was as if he already knew exactly what was eating at Wang Zhuangyuan—what he was afraid of.

The relief on Wang Zhuangyuan’s face was immediate. Genuine, too—like a weight lifting.

“You came alone?” Wu Chen asked, casual.

“The others are out on the main road. I didn’t bring them in. You live here, Mr. Wu—too many of us showing up this early, the neighbors would notice, and that’s no good for you.” Wang Zhuangyuan said.

Wu Chen nodded, and a small smile crossed his face.

The man really did know how to handle things.

They walked deep into the alley, where a handful of small shops still stood—a convenience store, a fast food stall, that sort of thing.

Wu Chen led him into a breakfast place, the grimy little kind, serving soy milk, fried dough sticks, buns, and pickled vegetables.

Past seven now, the morning rush had already passed. Only one other table was occupied.

Wu Chen ordered a few things without much thought, and they took a seat near the door.

Wang Zhuangyuan glanced around the shop more than once after sitting down.

It had been years since he’d eaten anywhere like this. Since making something of himself, every place he went had turned upscale, everything he ate and used increasingly refined.

He hadn’t expected Wu Chen to eat somewhere like this at all.

Not that he thought it was because Wu Chen was poor—only an ordinary man would assume that. What Wang Zhuangyuan actually thought was: this man keeps himself unbelievably low-key.

The buns and dough sticks were ready-made, and the server brought them over quickly.

“You came looking for me for something?” Wu Chen asked, picking up a fried dough stick and tearing it into pieces, dropping them into his bowl of soy milk one by one.

“Mr. Wu, I really do need to explain. You must have gotten the wrong idea. I meant no harm toward you, I—”

Wang Zhuangyuan began his explanation.

He wasn’t about to say the real reason out loud—I put men on you to find a chance to cozy up to you—so he needed something else to offer.

What he landed on was that he’d been protecting Wu Chen.

Or rather, secretly looking after Young Master Li’s brother-in-law.

Where he’d dug that up from, who knew.

Maybe he simply couldn’t think of anything more natural and settled for this instead, awkward as it was. The reason itself hardly mattered. What mattered was Wu Chen’s reaction—his read on it.

Wu Chen had already started eating, listening as he spoke. Wang Zhuangyuan was genuinely eloquent; somehow he made even this sound reasoned, almost logical.

“…You understand, Mr. Wu, people like us down here—call it kindly, we’re street bosses, call it plainly, we’re thugs. You’re family to Young Master Li. Even without him telling us to, we all live off the rice bowl he lets us keep. Seemed only right to show a little initiative. Don’t you think?”

“Mm. Finished?” Wu Chen gave a flat nod, then asked.

“Finished.” Something shifted in Wang Zhuangyuan’s expression—Wu Chen clearly hadn’t bought a word of it, though he also didn’t seem inclined to make trouble over it.

“You’re not eating?” Wu Chen asked.

He’d ordered enough for two, and Wang Zhuangyuan hadn’t touched any of it.

“Ah—yes. I am hungry, actually.” Wang Zhuangyuan managed something close to a natural smile, picked up a dough stick, and tore it into his bowl the way Wu Chen had.

It wasn’t how he normally ate them.

But it was how Wu Chen had just eaten his.

“…Last night, a violent group assault occurred on Fuyuan Road. A witness captured footage of the incident… Officers from the Fuyuan Road Police Station arrived at the scene shortly after. One victim, seriously injured, was rushed to the hospital…”

Wu Chen’s head turned toward the small television mounted on the shop wall. The volume was low, but it had been running the whole time, and the words “Fuyuan Road” caught his attention at once.

The screen showed shaky footage taken by a bystander.

The image jolted and blurred, but through it, a man could be seen dragged into the street and beaten by a crowd, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, as if he’d been hauled straight out of a building nearby.

Wu Chen “recognized” him.

Hu Xiaowei.

Wang Zhuangyuan followed his gaze to the screen, but had no interest in it himself. He adjusted his glasses and smiled. “You come here often, Mr. Wu?”

“Mm. Often.” Wu Chen turned back, glanced at him, and went on eating.

For the rest of the meal, it was mostly Wang Zhuangyuan working to get closer to him—asking one thing, then another, even reminiscing about eating in places like this himself over a decade ago, saying he almost missed it.

Just as they were finishing up—

Ring, ring, ring.

Wu Chen’s phone went off.

It sat on the table between them, the screen reading: Ruobing.

Wang Zhuangyuan saw it too and rose at once, gesturing that he’d step outside. Wu Chen waved him back down—nothing here he couldn’t hear.

“Calling this early?” Wu Chen answered. “Already at the office?”

“Not yet. Just got up, I’m on my way.” Li Ruobing’s words came fast, an edge of real anger under them. “Get to the office. Now. Something’s happened.”