“Where is everyone? I’m talking to you! Where is everyone?!” Meng Ziyan’s voice cut sharply through the empty villa, piercing and shrill, as if it were about to tear through the eardrums of Dong Meng and Wolf Number Three.
Wolf Number Three stood silently, saying nothing. There were no people here, true, but honestly, he hadn’t been hired by Meng Ziyan either. If it weren’t for the boss instructing him to obey Meng Ziyan, he wouldn’t have bothered with Meng Ziyan’s dirty assignments at all. So why should Meng Ziyan be yelling at him like this?
Wolf Number Three had seen enough to know how things worked. Meng Ziyan was only favored for a short time. That was the boss’s taste—he liked new faces, and once novelty wore off, a new favorite would naturally take the place. There was no need for him to be overly polite to this Meng Ziyan.
Dong Meng stood beside him, his face still smeared with pungent ointment. Cold sweat ran down his cheeks, mixing with the medicinal smell into something nauseating. He barely registered Meng Ziyan’s shouting. All he knew was that if they hadn’t completed the task assigned, who knew how the boss would deal with them? Fear gnawed at him, and he couldn’t help glancing resentfully at Wolf Number Three.
If it weren’t for him, if it weren’t for him sending them running around blindly in the middle of the night…
A sudden realization struck Dong Meng: this was all Wolf Number Three’s fault. He had unilaterally decided to take another route, and it had nothing to do with Dong Meng!
With a venomous glare at the back of Wolf Number Three’s head, Dong Meng squared his shoulders and stepped forward, a mix of relief and schadenfreude in his tone:
“Meng Young Master, I, Old Dong, have a few things to say to you.”
Meng Ziyan raised an eyebrow and took a barely perceptible step back. These bodyguards were crude, foul-mouthed, and utterly obnoxious.
Yet, glancing at the silent Wolf Number Three and then at Dong Meng, whose face betrayed a touch of agitation, a flicker of suspicion crossed Meng Ziyan’s expression.
He knew Wolf Number Three well—Feng had described him as a loyal dog: sharp-minded, never erring in his duties. But now, for Meng Ziyan’s first assigned task, these two had gone astray. And Dong Meng stepping forward like this made it clear—this wasn’t going to be simple…
“Fine, come with me.” Meng Ziyan decided to get to the bottom of it. He wanted to make use of Feng’s people while he could, rather than dirty his own hands. Nodding at Dong Meng, he led him upstairs. He wanted to see exactly what Dong Meng had to say.
Dong Meng followed eagerly, but as they reached the end of the stairs, he couldn’t resist shooting a proud glance at Wolf Number Three standing rigidly below—only to catch a faint, eerie smirk creeping across Wolf Number Three’s face. A chill shot up Dong Meng’s spine, making him shiver.
Of course, Meng Ziyan didn’t bring Dong Meng into a room. Wolf Number Three was Feng’s man; he couldn’t leave any leverage in others’ hands. Upstairs, servants were not allowed freely. Meng Ziyan led Dong Meng to the balcony—isolated enough that no one could hear them, yet public enough that they were visible, giving Meng Ziyan an advantage.
“Speak. What do you want to tell me?” Meng Ziyan sat down on the rattan chair. Normally, he looked cute and considerate, but now, in front of Dong Meng, his sharp, predatory side was unmistakable, intimidating Dong Meng into avoiding eye contact.
“M-Meng Young Master…” Dong Meng swallowed nervously. He was a rough, simple man, and suddenly being forced to report made him jittery. Coupled with Meng Ziyan’s half-smile, he stammered.
“It’s like this… Wolf Number Three—he has problems. Not today, not originally. It just happened that night. You know, those sudden night problems. I was driving, and he suddenly had a problem. He forced me to go another way, which might have been his main base! That night, it scared me… oh my, that huge ghost tree… Wolf Number Three kept touching it… clearly… something!” Dong Meng babbled, his mind replaying the events, words tumbling out incoherently.
Meng Ziyan frowned, trying to parse what nonsense Dong Meng was spewing—there was no coherent point.
“What do you mean? Are you saying Wolf Number Three betrayed Feng?” Meng Ziyan cut straight to the point.
Dong Meng panicked—he hadn’t meant to imply that! He shook his head violently.
“N-no, that’s not what I mean!”
“Then what do you mean? Speak clearly.” Meng Ziyan was unimpressed. Dong Meng’s hesitations lowered his credibility, and he waved a hand impatiently. Dong Meng quickly straightened up.
“Th-That night, when we were bringing someone back, on the way back, Wolf Number Three suddenly… was possessed!” Dong Meng’s voice dropped. In their line of work, people didn’t believe in such things, but rumors circulated. Thinking back, it felt strange—Wolf Number Three was usually so honest, quiet, yet that night he insisted on taking another route, and his voice didn’t sound like his own.
“Possessed?” Meng Ziyan raised his voice slightly. Ghost stories were hardly believable in this day and age.
Seeing Meng Ziyan’s disbelief, Dong Meng quickly leaned forward, bowing slightly to continue:
“Please believe me, Meng Young Master! I’d bet anything this is true. Wolf Number Three doesn’t know Yu Junqing. He didn’t capture him. He’s just the boss’s dog—everyone knows that. Something about this… it feels off.”
Meng Ziyan, listening to this incoherent ghost tale, rubbed his temples. It was annoying and lacked logic. He was eighty percent certain Dong Meng was lying—but Dong Meng was timid by nature. If he could lie about this, Meng Ziyan would have to question it further.
“Call Wolf Number Three. I’ll ask him myself.” Meng Ziyan gestured, and Dong Meng practically sighed in relief before scurrying downstairs.
Wolf Number Three remained standing rigidly in the living room. Dong Meng descended, secretly gloating, but as Wolf Number Three looked him in the eye, a pang of unease struck him. The dull pain on his face reminded him—this situation could end with either him or Wolf Number Three dead. He couldn’t take the fall; he bore no real responsibility.
He explained everything to Wolf Number Three before heading upstairs. Dong Meng looked smug, thinking there was no way Wolf Number Three could deceive Meng Ziyan.
Footsteps, firm and measured, approached—Wolf Number Three had arrived.
Meng Ziyan raised his head. Just standing there, Wolf Number Three emanated a completely different aura than Dong Meng had. From Dong Meng, Meng Ziyan felt fear and subservience. From Wolf Number Three came an indescribable ferocity, a wolf-like pride and loyalty.
Meng Ziyan frowned. Dong Meng’s supernatural ramblings had been headache-inducing. He could not take them seriously. Yet, seeing the determined, fearful look in Dong Meng’s eyes gave Meng Ziyan pause.
“Dong Meng says you insisted on taking a different route. Care to explain?” Meng Ziyan asked. He was cautious—not everyone could be commanded like Dong Number Three. Wolf Number Three was Feng’s right-hand man, loyal and untouchable.
A fleeting expression crossed Wolf Number Three’s face—Meng Ziyan caught it instantly. Disdain?
“I have nothing to say.” Wolf Number Three’s expression snapped back to neutrality.
Meng Ziyan’s suspicion deepened. That look… was it directed at him, or at Dong Meng?
Better to ask directly. Meng Ziyan continued:
“Dong Meng claims you let Yu Junqing escape. Is that true?” Meng Ziyan studied Wolf Number Three’s reaction closely. This time, he clearly saw a faint smirk—disdain, unmistakable.
“I did not complete the task.” Wolf Number Three’s response was calm, almost cold.
“Fine. You may go.” Meng Ziyan concluded that nothing more could be extracted. Wolf Number Three was Feng’s man, loyal to the core, tight-lipped. He could not be fully controlled; Feng clearly trusted him too much for that.
After Wolf Number Three left, Meng Ziyan reclined in the chair, lost in thought. The situation was now settled—Yu Junqing had escaped. As for Dong Meng or Wolf Number Three being disloyal, he suspected Wolf Number Three more.
Yet Dong Meng’s fearful, determined tone muddied the waters. Superstitions aside, it was hard to make a definitive judgment.
Sighing, Meng Ziyan rubbed his temples. Either way, it had to end here. Both Dong Meng and Wolf Number Three were Feng’s men—he was merely borrowing them. Punishing them was beyond his authority.
Yu Junqing, however, had been incredibly lucky. Meng Ziyan’s expression darkened. Originally, Yu Junqing should have been under Boss Bao’s watch, but he had escaped.
Meng Ziyan had just managed to attach himself to Zong Ge and acquire some leverage, only to be sent to apologize to Boss Bao due to his overly obedient demeanor. Boss Bao had vented his anger mercilessly, and Meng Ziyan had gained nothing. If not for a small trick that made Boss Bao lose interest and turn to Feng, who knows where he’d be now?
Yu Junqing! If not for him, Meng Ziyan wouldn’t have suffered so much humiliation!
Gritting his teeth, Meng Ziyan’s eyes burned with hatred. He would never let Yu Junqing rise again!
Wolf Number Three descended the stairs, noticing Dong Meng’s lingering smugness. He raised his chin slightly, revealing the scar beneath his jaw, and a strange smile crept onto his face.
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”
Dong Meng stared at the scar, haunted by Wolf Number Three’s chilling, ghostlike tone. He recalled a rumor from their underworld days: when Wolf Number Three was first brought in by the boss, he had jumped straight to the top, managing the others, silencing complaints.
One story went that Wolf Number Three had a sworn brother who betrayed him for money. Wolf Number Three had retaliated alone, killing every bodyguard his brother had hired, even taking a wound under his jaw, and ultimately killed the traitorous brother.
Looking at that vicious scar, Dong Meng understood—it was a mark of a living demon, someone capable of survival and lethality in one breath.
Wolf Number Three smelled a foul stench from Dong Meng, found it uninteresting, and withdrew his aura. Bored, he decided to take a day off from the boss. Lately, the boss had been enjoying himself with a wealthy tycoon, and Wolf Number Three had no intention of being commanded by Meng Ziyan.
Moreover, Boy Rui had just called, explicitly stating that Yu Junqing was his chosen future sister-in-law. If Meng Ziyan were to be sent against her, Wolf Number Three would have a headache. Better to go rest and train a bit. Decision made.
Wolf Number Three left, leaving Dong Meng awkward in the living room, and Meng Ziyan stewing upstairs.
Boy Rui received a message from Third Brother, silently recording a favor. He planned to visit Auntie since Third Brother couldn’t go himself.
As for Meng Ziyan, Boy Rui reviewed prior files—he was cunning, clearly skilled to have earned Zhong Feng’s favor. Without a weapon, it would be interesting to see how he tried to kill.
Files showed Meng Ziyan had served a Bao family boss, explaining his motive against Yu Junqing.
When Boy Rui rescued Yu Junqing, the latter had narrowly escaped being delivered to Boss Bao by his agent. Luckily, Yu Junqing had been brave enough to take him down and flee; otherwise, Meng Ziyan’s hands would have reached him.
The attached photos revealed Meng Ziyan’s previous injuries—scars covering his skin, a shocking sight.
Thinking of Yu Junqing potentially enduring such suffering, Boy Rui’s chest tightened. He would never allow it.
Yu Junqing remained unaware of Boy Rui’s behind-the-scenes interventions. Lately, he had been busy—so busy he barely had time to think of Boy Rui.
Director Wang, perhaps due to prior rumors, had felt stifled, and during promotions, unleashed a wave of publicity, dominating headlines. Yu Junqing had to follow, despite a recovering foot injury. He carefully maintained his image, walking properly to avoid delaying the project, exhausted to the point of wanting to collapse into the bathtub upon returning home.
His efforts paid off. With substantial exposure and fan interaction, his Weibo following surged. The character he portrayed in the new project resonated, and fans even shouted playful lines from the audience. Yu Junqing found these arrangements agreeable, feeling fulfilled and cooperative.
Still, one thing kept him energized daily: Boy Rui’s nightly calls.
For instance, now.
Fresh from a hot shower, Yu Junqing sprawled on the bed, his radiant skin seeming to glow against the black sheets. Recently, for promotional purposes, he had slimmed slightly, though his eight-pack and mermaid-line abs remained. His serene expression, with long lashes trembling slightly, radiated silent temptation, a subtle allure that made one want to devour him entirely.
Rolling around comfortably, Yu Junqing felt nearly transcendent—until his phone rang on schedule.
Sleepy eyes brightened; he grabbed the phone. Sure enough, it was Brother Rui.
“Brother Rui~” Yu Junqing’s voice lifted slightly, betraying his delight.
“Mm.” Hearing this, Boy Rui felt a peculiar satisfaction. Holding him close, spoiling him, ensuring he could never leave—he realized how foolish he had been alone before.
“Were you busy again today, Brother Rui?” Yu Junqing asked, concerned as calls always came at night.
“Not really. I knew you’d been busy during the day and didn’t want to distract you. You’re probably done showering and lying in bed, right? Call you now, you can sleep right after.” Boy Rui explained calmly. He had almost everything regarding Yu Junqing handled discreetly, wanting to keep him secure while monitoring Ren Qingyun’s antics.
“You’re coming back?” Yu Junqing’s excitement made him sit up suddenly, losing his balance and crashing onto the floor with a loud thud.