They made their way through a sprawling garden filled with subtropical broad-leaved plants; the broad foliage shielded them from the rain, creating a unique, secluded tranquility within the woods.
Tree frogs called out from tiny pools of water nestled in the crooks of leaves, while massive banana blossoms hung suspended in the air, raindrops pattering from them onto the umbrella overhead.
The Pei family’s estate was vast and lush, home to a carefully curated collection of free-roaming animals that transformed this property on the capital’s outskirts into a massive, secluded Eden.
When the weather was clear, a pair of green peacocks would fan out their plumage for passersby. Bengal monitor lizards ambled lazily across the lawns. A proboscis monkey mother sat on a branch, cradling her young while observing the lives of a different kind of primate.
There was even an elephant enclosure, housing a pair of gentle, beautiful white elephants.
The air was stiflingly humid, and a thin layer of sweat soon clung to their skin. Fortunately, the rainy season was drawing to a close.
“What made you decide to come work for us?” Pei Jiangchen suddenly asked. “Your uncle risked his life for my second uncle; I’m sure he gave you a fortune. Couldn’t you have done something else with that money?”
“My uncle always said I should come work for the Pei family one day,” Wen Shuyu replied. “The world outside is full of risks and the situation is unstable; having a powerful backer is better than having none. And when it comes to backers, the Pei family is the most reliable choice. I don’t have grand ambitions—I just want stability, to do my job well… and live out my life.”
“No ambition,” Pei Jiangchen scoffed.
Wen Shuyu smiled faintly but offered no defense.
“What skills do you have?” Pei Jiangchen asked. “I don’t keep useless people around me.”
Wen Shuyu looked a bit apprehensive. “Aside from my professional training? I… I can do housework…”
“We have plenty of servants for that.” Pei Jiangchen was amused by the other man’s unease, a hint of malice in his smile. “Do you know how to use a gun? A knife?”
Wen Shuyu shook his head, his face pale, then tentatively asked, “A kitchen knife?”
Pei Jiangchen couldn’t keep a straight face and burst out laughing.
Wen Shuyu was too embarrassed to make a sound.
Once Pei Jiangchen had finished laughing, he said, “Alright, a kitchen knife is still a knife… Do you know how to cook?”
Wen Shuyu nodded. “My uncle isn’t home often, so I handle all the housework myself. My friends say I’m a pretty good cook.”
“Fair enough,” Pei Jiangchen said. “You’ll have to cook for me sometime—let me taste your handiwork.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You need to learn how to use a gun. You know it’s dangerous out there; if something happens, don’t count on me coming back to save you. I’ll have Brother Guang teach you a few self-defense moves later. He’s the captain of my security team.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Anything else?” Pei Jiangchen turned to look Wen Shuyu up and down, noticing that one side of the boy’s shoulder was soaked from the rain. “Oh—get a neat haircut and change into some decent clothes. My people can’t look so shabby.”
Wen Shuyu agreed to everything as they walked.
Amidst the patter of light rain, the two youths walked on, their figures gradually disappearing into the depths of the lush greenery.
Three months later.
After the bell rang to end get out of class, Wen Shuyu walked briskly out of the teaching building with his backpack—stuffed full of books—slung over one shoulder.
He found his mountain bike in the cluttered bicycle shed with practiced ease, only to discover that the chain—which had been fine before class—was broken.
The break, caused by pliers, looked fresh; the signs of tampering were obvious, and the culprit clearly hadn’t bothered to hide their tracks.
But Wen Shuyu was already used to this sort of thing.
He carefully felt around the bike seat for a moment and pulled out two steel needles from the foam padding—placed, as usual, near the front of the seat.
This was the eighth time recently he’d been targeted by this kind of prank—malicious and nasty, even if it didn’t cause serious physical injury.