The day after boarding, Kong Wenyu had to go to the sanatorium because they had told his secretary that Madam wanted to see her son.
Hai Ming was already prepared to leave, and it wasn’t until Kong Wenyu got into the car that he remembered Nie Jun.
Glancing around and not seeing him anywhere, he reached out to stop the door from closing.
“Where’s Nie Jun?”
Hai Ming held the door with one hand and bent slightly. “He’s been suspended.”
Kong Wenyu looked at him.
Hai Ming explained, “It’s just a minor punishment to serve as a warning—suspended for half a month, but three months’ salary will be withheld.”
Kong Wenyu kept his eyes on him without moving.
Hai Ming, not understanding his silence, added, “I asked him to write a self-criticism. Once he finished, he was supposed to submit it for the record. He called this morning and said it was done, and I told him to bring it by at noon.”
Kong Wenyu had never known that being a bodyguard required writing a self-criticism. When he was a child, he’d made plenty of mistakes at home and had written quite a few himself.
“It’s in the bodyguard regulations,” Hai Ming said quietly. “Mainly, it specifies the time, place, cause, and sequence of events so that it can be reviewed later. It’s more about a wake-up call than a punishment.”
Kong Wenyu remained silent, and Hai Ming didn’t dare get into the car first.
Only when Kong Wenyu asked, “Does he live far?”
“Not far,” Hai Ming replied. “Should I call him now and have him come over?”
“After we’re done here,” Kong Wenyu said. “When we get back, take me to his place. I need to see him.”
Hai Ming nodded. Once he’d received the instructions, he carefully closed the door, then walked around to the front passenger seat to accompany him.
Midway, Kong Wenyu dozed off for a while but was awakened by his phone ringing.
He glanced at the screen. His sleepy eyes quickly cleared, and when he answered, there was even a subtle trace of a smile in them.
“Hello?”
On the other end, Nie Jun’s voice came through—low, not overly deep, but carrying a faint rasp and a magnetic tone. “It’s me.”
“Mm.” Kong Wenyu closed his eyes, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. “What is it?”
“You said before… that I could contact you even if it was for nothing.”
Kong Wenyu let out another soft “Mm.” “So this really isn’t about anything?”
Nie Jun said instead, “Actually, there is something.”
Kong Wenyu stayed quiet, as if waiting for him to continue. Through the receiver, he could only hear the faint sound of Nie Jun’s breathing.
Nie Jun drew in a breath, as though making up his mind. “You promised me you wouldn’t suspend me.”
“I did say that,” Kong Wenyu admitted.
“But I’ve been suspended,” Nie Jun said. “I want to work, but I was told I’m off duty for half a month.”
“Take it as a chance to rest.” Kong Wenyu looked out the window, his tone naturally authoritative. “You carried me out of the forest and stayed on night watch for days. Take this opportunity for a paid break.”
Outside, the early-summer scenery was lush. The tall poplars planted along the dust barriers had turned from yellow to green, and the light filtering through their gaps looked like countless glowing eyes.
Kong Wenyu found the monotonous view uninteresting and turned away without a second glance.
On the other end, Nie Jun muttered, “That’s not what you said before. You told me I could be your personal bodyguard, that whenever you went on assignments I’d follow you. And you… you promised to test my… skills, whenever and wherever I chose.”
Accused like that, Kong Wenyu realized he really did sound a bit like a jerk.
Holding the still-connected phone, he kicked the back of the front seat lightly. “Starting today, Nie Jun is my personal bodyguard. He will accompany me on all trips.”
“Did you hear that clearly?” This last sentence was directed into the phone.
Hai Ming, though surprised, immediately replied from the front seat, “Understood. I’ll arrange it once we’re home.”
Nie Jun, however, seemed caught off guard that there were other people nearby. Judging by the voices, they were very close—likely sharing the same space.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Kong Wenyu asked again, “Satisfied now?”
Nie Jun remained silent.
Kong Wenyu said, “If you don’t answer, I’m hanging up.”
“Wait,” Nie Jun finally spoke, his voice still low. “Then when can I start working?”
“In an hour,” Kong Wenyu replied, a soundless smile in his tone. “Wait for me downstairs. I’ll come pick you up.”
After hanging up, Kong Wenyu leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes to rest.
When he woke again, the car had already arrived at the sanatorium. Hai Ming softly called to wake him and moved to fetch a wheelchair.
Kong Wenyu waved it off, grabbed his cane, and slowly made his way inside. He hadn’t brought flowers or gifts—just like always, he came empty-handed.
Madam Kong was waiting by the door, seated in her wheelchair, while the large dog Shola sat obediently by her side, leaning against her leg like a well-behaved cat.
She wore a beige sweater, and Shola wore a matching vest, embroidered with small white flowers. From a distance, they looked solemn, almost ceremonial.
Kong Wenyu was used to this and made no comment. Walking closer, he greeted her: “Mom.” After a pause, he added gently, “It’s chilly today. Why did you come out?”
Shola was the first to move toward him, rubbing its head against his palm while letting out a low sound.
Madam Kong examined him from head to toe, her gaze settling on the cane in his hand. “What happened to your leg?”
“Just a minor thing.” Kong Wenyu stroked Shola’s head. “Why did you have the caretaker call me? What do you need from me?”
Madam Kong didn’t have a phone. If she ever got one in her hands, she would spend the entire day calling him nonstop.
That’s why Kong Wenyu had confiscated her phone—if she needed to reach anyone, she had to do it through the staff.
“You said next time you came, you’d take me out for some fresh air,” Madam Kong said.
Her voice, like her clothing, carried a solemnity—a kind of untouchable, cold dignity.
The way she enunciated at the end of her words was similar to some of Kong Wenyu’s own habits.
“I’ll take you now.”
Kong Wenyu handed his cane to Hai Ming and reached for the wheelchair that the caretaker was holding.
Hai Ming hesitated. “Your foot…”
Kong Wenyu waved him off, pushing the wheelchair slowly. Each time he moved it forward, he had to steady himself before taking a step. It took him a while to finally make it outside the sanatorium.
A long row of plane trees lined the road, leaning inward toward the courtyard, casting wide swaths of shadow across the path.
Kong Wenyu walked beneath them, pushing her wheelchair, Shola trailing alongside. Hai Ming followed at a distance, carrying the cane.
The wind slipped through the branches, cool and refreshing. It felt as though summer hadn’t fully arrived here yet.
Madam Kong asked as the breeze passed, “Has Kong Lingru gotten married?”
“No,” Kong Wenyu replied.
“Why not?” She stared straight ahead at the path. “You’re not pressuring her? Threaten her with shares, use that driver to force her hand, make her get married. You’ve been dragging this out with no progress. How can you be so useless?”
Kong Wenyu gave a short, mocking laugh. “If you’re so capable, why are you sitting in a wheelchair, letting me push you around?”
Madam Kong immediately grew agitated. Her hands clamped onto the armrests, her voice rising. “I gave birth to you, only for you to speak to me like this? Have you even sorted out all of your father’s assets? When will the board meeting finally be approved? Why aren’t you going to work?”
“I was about to,” Kong Wenyu interrupted, his voice completely steady. “If you hadn’t called me here, I’d probably already be sitting in my office right now.”
His calmness made her own emotions gradually subside. She wasn’t as frantic as she had been at the start.
She turned her head, stared at him for a long moment, then looked away. “Then get lost.”
Kong Wenyu pivoted the wheelchair and started pushing her back.
Shola trotted over, rubbing against his leg.
Madam Kong shot the dog a sharp glance and said coldly, “Take it and leave. I don’t want your dog.”
Kong Wenyu didn’t respond. He pushed her to the front gate, but instead of going inside, he tilted his head up to the sky—it looked heavy with clouds.
“It’s probably going to rain today,” he told the caretaker. “Make sure the blankets are dried thoroughly before putting them on her bed tonight.”
The caretakers all nodded. Hai Ming stepped forward, handing him the cane. Kong Wenyu took it and, without looking back, said, “I’m leaving. If you need anything, have the staff call me.”
Madam Kong didn’t look at him and acted as if she hadn’t heard. She had the caretakers push her away.
Shola stayed where it was, head tilted, watching him.
Kong Wenyu met its gaze for a couple of seconds, then motioned with his hand.
Shola immediately perked up, bounding happily toward him.
The sky was heavy with clouds when they set out, and by the time they were on their way back, a light rain had started to fall. Because Shola kept nudging against his leg in the car, Kong Wenyu couldn’t fall asleep.
The car stopped along a narrow convenience street. As Kong Wenyu stepped out, Hai Ming hurried to hold an umbrella for him, but he waved him off.
“Where are you going—are you looking for Nie Jun?” Hai Ming quickly asked.
The street had already passed its busiest hour. Now, with the rain falling, vendors were packing up their stalls, pedestrians hurried past with anxious faces—some taking shelter under awnings, others rushing home.
“I need to see him about something,” Kong Wenyu said, his presence completely out of place in this setting. “Wait for me out here.”
Hai Ming tried again, “Maybe call him out, or talk to him at home? Your foot isn’t in good shape, and getting wet like this could make you sick…”
Kong Wenyu simply waved his hand. Hai Ming shut his mouth and watched him disappear into the misty drizzle, walking alone toward the small residential compound where Nie Jun lived.
The security guard glanced up from the window, said nothing, and let him in before going back to his phone.
Kong Wenyu leaned on his cane, studying the rows of old, low-rise buildings as he dialed Nie Jun’s number.
Raindrops quickly blurred his phone screen. Nie Jun’s voice came through as it always did—half low, half clear: “Hello?”
“What floor do you live on?” Kong Wenyu asked.
There was a short pause before Nie Jun spoke quickly, “You’re back already? I’ll come down right now.”
The call ended. Kong Wenyu didn’t say anything else, just stood there waiting.
Soon, a tall, broad figure emerged from the building’s entrance, striding quickly. Through the curtain of rain, Kong Wenyu looked at him.
Nie Jun didn’t notice him at first—not until they were about to pass each other. Then he stopped abruptly.
His gaze swept him from head to toe in disbelief before he finally reacted. “You… how did you get in here?”
Kong Wenyu’s hair and coat were damp, rain streaked his face, and his eyes glistened with moisture as well.
“I came by car,” he replied.
His voice was cold, carrying none of the warmth of early summer. It felt like an autumn rain—once it ended, winter would be near.
Nie Jun quickly shrugged off his own coat, draping it over him, pulling it close around his shoulders as he asked, “Where’s your car? Why didn’t you use an umbrella? Your hair’s soaked. And where’s Hai Ming—why isn’t he with you?”
“They’re all outside.” Kong Wenyu tilted his head up slightly, raindrops slipping down his face. “I came to make good on my promise to you.”
Nie Jun froze.
For a moment, he thought maybe he’d misheard him, mistaking the patter of the rain for those words.
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