He was always getting upset over something. Zhao Buxi scoffed to himself, unable to figure out how he had offended the man. Who was it that had called Fang Peizhi easygoing and gentle?
With a temper like that, how did his girlfriend put up with him? She must have fallen for his looks.
“What on earth is wrong with you?”
Fang Peizhi looked at him, plucked a segment from the completely peeled mandarin, and put it in his mouth. A moment later, Zhao Buxi had a close-up view of Fang’s eyes narrowing from the sourness.
“…”
“Ahahahahahaha…”
“It’s sour!” Zhao Buxi burst out laughing. “Why didn’t you just say so?”
Instead of sulking about it.
“What are you, a little kid?”
Fang Peizhi almost always wore a cold expression around him, so seeing him squint from a sour mandarin was hilariously out of character. Zhao Buxi laughed so hard that tears nearly came out.
His smile was clean and refreshing. The corners of his eyes lifted as he laughed freely, like a bottle of ice-cold Sprite pulled from the refrigerator on a sweltering summer day.
Fang Peizhi had never expected to see a man laughing so hard he practically shook like a flowering branch. “It doesn’t taste sour to you?”
Zhao Buxi wiped away a tear of laughter. “It tastes pretty sweet to me.”
It really did taste sweet in his mouth. He hadn’t expected Fang Peizhi to find it sour. To prove he wasn’t lying, he ate another segment without the slightest change in expression.
“Seriously, it’s not sour to me. I’m not lying.”
Ever since Zhao Buxi had moved in, Fang Peizhi had found a different way to embarrass himself every day.
Seeing that Zhao Buxi hadn’t done it deliberately, Fang Peizhi’s face relaxed. His mood improved, and he felt a little childish himself. He had never been one to make a fuss over trifles.
Unfortunately, his sour-faced expression had been too funny. Zhao Buxi still couldn’t stop laughing. His whole body vibrated, and since he was squatting, he lost his balance and toppled backward.
They had been squatting close together. As Zhao Buxi flung out his arms on his way down, he caught Fang Peizhi, throwing him off balance too.
There was a dull thud, and startled birds erupted from the tree overhead.
Fang Peizhi acquired a spectacularly burning pain in the back of his head.
Fang Peizhi: …
Zhao Buxi: I’m done for.
Fang Peizhi stood up, his face taut, and walked away.
“Hey! I didn’t mean to! Hey!” Zhao Buxi called after him.
The fire-safety inspection finally ended two hours later. Someone had burned a cake, and when they opened the oven, the thick black smoke set off the alarm.
Fortunately the disruption hadn’t lasted too long. Everyone could go back and get a good night’s sleep before work the next morning.
Zhao Buxi worked from nine in the morning to four in the afternoon. Any hours beyond that counted as overtime, paid at the prescribed hourly rate.
Old Jiang had told him when they parted at the high-speed rail station to look for work at a sizable company. Not every such company followed labor laws, but ninety-five percent of them, he said, strictly observed the rules on working hours and pay.
When society wanted to set an example, the quickest way was to punish one offender to warn a hundred. Large companies were therefore the first targets of labor-law inspections, and those inspections were rigorous.
It seemed Old Jiang hadn’t been talking nonsense after all.
Today he was accompanying Lu Fengtong to compete for a business contract. Lu was under tremendous pressure and sweated buckets all the way there on the subway.
The train’s air-conditioning blasted cold air, but he was still soaked through.
Zhao Buxi had never imagined anyone could be wound up like a high-voltage wire. “You’re that nervous?”
Lu Fengtong nodded. The assistant beside him looked just as grave.
The company they were competing against was in an entirely different weight class.
It had already snatched numerous contracts and projects away from them and seemed intent on monopolizing the market.
This was the third project Lu Fengtong had fought the company over this year. If he lost again, the employees’ year-end bonuses would probably shrink.
It was only his first year in charge. If the bonuses dropped immediately after he took over, questions and criticism aside, he would be too ashamed to face anyone.
Luckily, Lu Fengtong hadn’t fully shed his college-student mentality, and his moods came and went quickly. He had been dejected a moment ago, but after opening Douyin and scrolling past two inspirational quotes, he suddenly believed in himself again.
“Never doubt yourself. Destiny can sense your thoughts. Always speak words that bring yourself prosperity. Picture yourself succeeding, and you’ll manifest success.”
Exactly. Who knew? Maybe he’d absolutely devour this project and win it outright.
When they arrived at the prospective partner’s offices, all three looked up. The gaming company was enormous. In Beijing, where every inch of land was worth a fortune, it occupied an entire office tower of its own. That said enough about its scale.
They signed in at reception and waited on the lobby sofas until an assistant came downstairs to escort them up.
The elevator doors opened on a high floor. President Liang of the rival company and his subordinates were already waiting in the outer reception room.
Both rival companies dealt in personal-care products, but their sizes were incomparable. Liang Shujia had never taken the Lu family’s little workshop seriously, especially after its cash flow had shrunk the previous year.
Still, when he saw them arrive today, he gave them a couple of extra glances.
Zhao Buxi felt someone sizing him up, but when he looked toward the sensation, nobody seemed to be watching. He dismissed it as his imagination.
One glimpse of Liang Shujia was enough to drain away the courage Lu Fengtong had built up with those motivational quotes. He tried to slink off with his group toward a corner, only for someone to grab him by the back of the neck.
Zhao Buxi hauled him close, hooked an arm around his neck, and bent down to tell him, “If you lose the battle of confidence, you’ve already lost. Go sit by the door.”
He tipped his chin toward it.
His father had taught him that. Out in the world, a person needed backbone. The stronger you acted, the less other people dared to bully you.
Lu Fengtong could feel the vibration of Zhao Buxi’s vocal cords. Being held like this was surprisingly reassuring.
Zhao Buxi didn’t understand city people’s rules for speaking or socializing. Little Lu had said they could be friends, so Zhao simply threw an arm around him as he would a good buddy.
“Right,” Lu Fengtong said. “We can’t lose our nerve.”
He coughed twice with exaggerated importance, straightened his clothes, put on his Bluetooth earbuds, and opened Douyin to bolster his courage.
Let’s manifest.
Liang Shujia watched Zhao Buxi with his arm around Lu Fengtong, an unreadable look in his eyes.
Not long after Zhao Buxi’s party sat down, two or three more firms competing for the same project arrived.
They had expected to start discussing their proposals with the gaming company’s project manager, but the CEO was taking this project very seriously and wanted to attend personally. Unfortunately, he was tied up in another meeting, so the companies seeking a partnership had to wait.
Everyone smiled and said they didn’t mind, while inwardly cursing the CEO’s entire family in every twist and turn imaginable. People at big companies were arrogant, especially CEOs. Making others wait was nothing unusual.
After waiting so long, Zhao Buxi needed the toilet. He let Lu Fengtong know and went to the restroom.
Restrooms in the big city were clean and even smelled nice. Zhao Buxi was standing at a urinal when someone else walked in and took the one beside him.
“Are you Lu Fengtong’s new assistant?” If their projects hadn’t clashed so often, Liang wouldn’t even have remembered the name of a small fry like Lu Fengtong.
This was Zhao Buxi’s first time meeting someone who liked to chat while peeing. He finished, zipped up, and replied, “I’m his bodyguard. Who are you?”
Liang Shujia was surprised. Still, the man before him really was tall, around 1.8 meters.
High nose bridge, pink lips, and a wild streak about him. Damn, he was sexy.
Long legs, a pert backside, and earrings to boot.
Now that was something.
Liang Shujia’s gaze slid along Zhao Buxi’s long, straight legs. He had never encountered this type before; the boys he’d dated previously had all been fair-skinned and delicate.
From the look of him, this one probably knew nothing about what went on between men.
Liang kept his gaze subtle enough not to betray himself. Society nowadays was quite accepting of homosexuality, and there were plenty of feminine male streamers online.
But if the head of a company were publicly exposed as gay, it could damage the company’s image and even affect its stock price.
That was why he kept his affairs private. So far, he’d hidden them well.
Zhao Buxi went to wash his hands. Liang followed him to the sink. “Where’s home for you?”
“The countryside.”
A country bumpkin, too.
“You smell rather good. What brand of body wash do you use?” It was a clever question. Since they both worked in personal care, it provided an opening without exposing his intentions.
“Soap.”
“How about switching to one of my brands… what?” Liang Shujia froze. “Soap?”
“Yeah.”
“What about your hair?”
“Soap too.”
“Head to toe?”
“Why not?” What did a grown man need so many bottles and jars for? Soap did the job perfectly well. A plain white bar of Safeguard smelled good and scrubbed off the grime.
Liang had intended a double entendre: switch brands of body wash and switch employers while he was at it. Who could have imagined the kid didn’t use body wash at all?
For the first time, Liang Shujia encountered someone this unusual. Realizing he’d have to speak plainly, he dropped the hints and circumlocutions. “How long have you worked for Lu Fengtong?”
Zhao Buxi thought this man talked too much. “Two days.”
Two days? Then poaching him would be child’s play.
“How much is Lu paying you? I’ll double it. Why don’t you come work for me?”
Zhao Buxi turned off the tap and shot him an unfriendly look.
Liang was intimidated for a few seconds, thinking he might get punched, and swallowed. Yet the more he looked, the more appealing Zhao seemed.
He didn’t give up. “Fifty thousand yuan a month. How about it?”
When Zhao Buxi didn’t budge, he raised the offer. “A hundred thousand?”
“Two hundred thousand?”
“Three hundred thousand, with another five thousand added every three months. What do you say?”
“Are you bullshitting me?” Zhao Buxi demanded.
“Of course not. I never bullshit.”
Zhao Buxi thought for a moment. “Your family must have some powerful connections.”
“Naturally.”
“Government officials or businesspeople?”
His family had fingers in both pies. Liang Shujia grew wary. “Why are you asking?”
Zhao Buxi said nothing. Three hundred thousand a month for a bodyguard? Who would believe a family could afford that without some corruption?
Their accountant could rub his hands until they smoked and still never balance the books.
If they held government office, he’d report them to the discipline inspection commission.
If they did business, he’d report them to the economic crimes investigators.
Seeing Zhao Buxi answer in riddles, Liang Shujia kept his guard up and stopped flirting. Lust could cloud a man’s judgment. Better win the contract first.
By the time he came out of the restroom, the CEO had arrived in the conference room, and the firms began pitching one after another.
In the end, the company shortlisted only Liang Shujia’s and Lu Fengtong’s proposals. Each had a fifty-percent chance. Who actually won would depend on their abilities.
And business warfare was an indispensable part of those abilities. Lu Fengtong was a bespectacled greenhorn whose start-up had failed last year. Liang intended to put some pressure on him.
He had considered calling Lu’s company directly, then changed his mind and had someone dig up Zhao Buxi’s phone number through hacking instead.
He dialed. “Hello. Remember who I am?”
Humans recognized things through their senses. They’d only parted a short while ago, so the other man shouldn’t have forgotten his voice yet.
The voice on the other end asked, “How did you get my number?”
“Hahahaha.” Liang Shujia let out a laugh that reeked of old money. “You don’t need to know that.”
But without another word, the person on the line hung up. Liang’s face darkened. Not long afterward, another call came in.
He must have regretted hanging up.
Without even looking at the caller ID, Liang answered. “Hello…”
“This is the Chaoyang Branch of the Beijing Municipal Public Security Bureau. A member of the public has reported your company for suspected doxxing and illegally obtaining personal information.”