Xue Bao Tian asked around among his disreputable friends and learned that if you wanted to hire a bodyguard, you were better off going through proper channels: professional, capable, and less likely to bite the hand that fed them.
There were only a handful of security companies of varying sizes in Yancheng, but one of them was exceptionally well known, supposedly handling half of China’s high-end security business.
Contrary to Xue Bao Tian’s expectations, the company was located in a bustling CBD. Its corporate logo hung prominently outside: a capital Y and lowercase y nested together at offset heights. It actually looked rather artistic.
“Yanyue Security?” Xue Bao Tian twirled the pen in his hand with a neat flourish. “If you hadn’t told me, I would’ve thought your company was some co-branded venture with Sanjin Tablets.”
The female receptionist thought about that for a moment, a faint blush rising to her face as she explained, “The logo uses the initials of the company’s name.”
“I know.” Xue Bao Tian cut straight to the point. “Where are the bodyguards? Bring them all in and let me pick.”
He had spent so much time choosing hostesses in nightclubs that he naturally assumed choosing bodyguards worked the same way.
The receptionist smiled professionally. “Mr. Xue, our company is very busy at the moment. We only have two bodyguards currently unassigned.”
Xue Bao Tian was a little disappointed. With obvious reluctance, he crooked a finger for her to bring them in.
The phone lying facedown on the solid-wood desk vibrated. The receptionist said, “Excuse me,” unlocked the screen, scanned it from left to right, then turned it off again, looking even more apologetic.
“Mr. Xue, we’ve just received word that those two available bodyguards have also been booked. We’re very sorry.”
Xue Bao Tian clicked his tongue, displeased. “What happened to first come, first served?”
The receptionist glanced at the employment agreement Xue Bao Tian had spent more than half an hour filling out, along with his crooked handwriting, and replied in a practiced tone, “Perhaps they completed the process a little faster.”
Xue Bao Tian did not curse at women, so he forcibly swallowed the “fuck” already sitting on his tongue.
Leaving empty-handed, Xue Bao Tian waited for the elevator. A figure flashed past at the end of the corridor, and he instinctively narrowed his eyes. Something about that back looked familiar.
Who was that again? He puzzled over it for a while. By the time the descending elevator display dropped from double digits into single digits, it suddenly came to him: that was the man who had smashed a chair into the hotpot when Huang Zheng cornered him at the restaurant.
Someone that formidable was here to hire a bodyguard too? Xue Bao Tian had never been interested in other people’s business. The question flashed through his mind and was promptly discarded.
Inside Yanyue Security’s office.
The man who had just passed through the corridor sat on a sofa with one leg crossed over the other, speaking on the phone. “I took care of what you asked. How are you going to thank me?” Whatever the person on the other end said made his expression turn serious. “Looks like he’s about to make his move. Call me anytime if you need help…”
Xue Bao Tian contacted several security companies in succession, only to hear the same answer from every one of them: they were short-staffed. He cursed up a storm in his head and eventually had no choice but to find two bodyguards through a shady broker.
The more he looked at the two men, the more wrong they seemed. Tasteless tattoos, blustering expressions, bodies that could never quite stand straight, legs that never stopped jiggling—they looked less like bodyguards than third-rate street thugs.
Fine, thugs it was. Xue Bao Tian was not picky. To him, thugs and bodyguards were much the same: vicious dogs kept at your side. Give them a bone, point at someone, and they should bite.
Yet after only three days, Xue Bao Tian already had a headache. Whenever he traded verbal blows with someone, the pair would roll up their sleeves and charge in, smashing stools and hurling bottles until a petty war of words became a full-blown feud. Xue Bao Tian already had enemies everywhere; with those two stirring things up, he was heading straight toward having no allies left at all.
That much was still tolerable. At least Xue Bao Tian himself had not suffered. But tonight, someone had mocked their boss a few times, and the pair immediately started baring their teeth again. Unfortunately, the other side turned out to be a hard case, and the men he had brought along were fierce too. The instant the man showed some real menace, Xue Bao Tian’s two idiots wilted, begging for mercy even faster than their own boss and bowing and scraping with apologetic smiles.
“Who the fuck asked you to apologize for me?!” Xue Bao Tian kicked one of them hard. Drawing his leg back, he pressed down the anger in his narrow eyes and put on a smile for the formidable man opposite him. “What happened just now was a misunderstanding. Let me apologize, bro.”
Xue Bao Tian paid them, dismissed them both, and remained thoroughly annoyed. He drove around aimlessly, turning left and right until a dead end finally forced him to stop. When he looked around, he unexpectedly laughed.
His flashy sports car looked painfully conspicuous in the dilapidated old neighborhood. The area bordered the suburbs and housed all kinds of people, with aging apartment blocks and single-story homes jumbled together. Tangled electrical wires hung beneath the eaves, while television antennas and receivers of every size crowded the rooftops. Officially, it was an area still awaiting redevelopment; colloquially, it was an ugly “dog-skin plaster” stuck to the city.
Night had deepened and the streetlights were dim, yet children were still playing beneath their weak glow—flipping cards and shooting marbles, games Xue Bao Tian himself had played as a child.
He pushed open the car door. The night breeze was a little chilly, so he wrapped his coat more tightly around himself and went to the trunk for a bottle of liquor.
Carrying the bottle, he walked over to the children and nudged one of them on the backside with his foot. “Count me in.”
The child turned around, looked at him, and refused. “We don’t play with grown-ups.”
Xue Bao Tian curled his lip. “With skills that lousy? When I was your age, I could’ve crushed you so badly you’d run home, throw yourself into your mom’s arms, and sing Only Mom Is Good in the World.”
He squatted down and picked up a marble. “Watch carefully. One shot, straight into the hole.”
Ten minutes later, Xue Bao Tian had been crushed so badly he wanted to go home and find his mother.
He stood and dusted off the hem of his coat. “I’m done. What the hell is the point of being good at this? Can one marble flatten Taiwan? Go home and study!”
Bottle in hand, he crossed the street and ducked into a shabby hole-in-the-wall eatery.
The place served conveyor-belt mini hotpot. A long, narrow oval counter stretched almost to the entrance, and there were only two diners inside, craning their necks as they picked food from the moving belt.
Amid the rich, spicy aroma, Xue Bao Tian called out with a smile, “Aunt Ping.”
The woman tapping away at a calculator beside a small table looked up. Surprise and delight entered her eyes when she saw him. “Xiao Tian, you’re here.”
She was in her fifties, slightly plump, with a kindly face. Pushing aside the account book in her hands, she came over warmly. “Why are you here so late? Haven’t eaten yet?”
“No. I was craving Aunt Ping’s hotpot.”
“You sweet-talking child. What’s there to crave about a few vegetable skewers?”
“When I was little, I wanted to eat them but couldn’t afford to. Every time, Aunt Ping and Uncle Cheng treated me for free. Back then, I thought these vegetable skewers were the best thing in the world. I still feel the same now—if I go too long without them, I start craving them.” Xue Bao Tian handed her the bottle and looked around the little restaurant. “I brought Uncle Cheng some liquor. Where is he?”
“He went out to take the trash and who knows whose house he wandered off to for a chat. You know what your uncle is like—a complete know-it-all. He spends every day giving other people advice when he can’t even sort out his own life.” The woman gave him a light shove. “Why do you always bring him liquor? It’s so expensive, and he can’t tell good from bad anyway.”
“Who says I can’t tell? Anything Xiao Tian brings me is good liquor.”
The door curtain lifted, and a man in his fifties walked in. He had an honest face and bright, lively eyes.
“Perfect timing, Xiao Tian. I haven’t eaten either. Come on, let’s have a drink together.”
“Sure.” Xue Bao Tian, unusually well behaved, answered with a smile. “I can’t hold my liquor very well, Uncle Cheng. Go easy on me.”
The soup base boiled vigorously, steam billowing upward and tinting Xue Bao Tian’s naturally pale skin faintly red.
A man who usually picked faults even with delicacies was now sitting in a cramped little room eating vegetable skewers that cost fifty cents apiece.
He spent all year haunting bars and nightclubs, yet he still could not outdrink Old Cheng, a man already past fifty. With hot soup and hot water warming him from the inside, the alcohol quickly went to his head. This was also the place where he felt most relaxed, and before he knew it, the little problem troubling him slipped out through his teeth.
“Uncle Cheng, I have a… friend.”
Old Cheng smiled a little wickedly.
“Uncle Cheng, you may be old, but your mind sure isn’t. You know plenty of these jokes.” Xue Bao Tian took out a cigarette and held it between his teeth, hemming and hawing. “It really is a friend. His… needs in that area are always unusually strong.”
Old Cheng’s startled gaze traveled slowly down from Xue Bao Tian’s face and stopped beneath the table.
Xue Bao Tian immediately clamped his legs together. Pulling the cigarette from his mouth, embarrassed and annoyed, he said, “It really isn’t me. It’s a buddy of mine.” He leaned over the table and asked quietly, “I want to work with him on something, but he’s always acting like a stud and getting in the way of serious business. It’s giving me a headache. Uncle Cheng, is there any way to get him to tone those urges down a little?”
Old Cheng slurped down a cup of liquor. “How old is he?”
“Young. Just over twenty, I think.”
“That’s normal. Young people who’ve only just gotten a taste of it tend to have strong urges.” Old Cheng glanced at his wife and lowered his voice too. “After you’ve been married a few years, the novelty wears off. Sometimes you’ll even want to hide from it.”
“So you mean…” Xue Bao Tian thought it over. “Let the novelty wear off?”
“Better to channel it than block it. Have him find a partner. Let him fool around for a few days, and it won’t feel so new anymore.”
“Oh.”
Xue Bao Tian drained the liquor in his cup.