Chapter 60: The Price of a Favor

I lowered my head, sipping my drink in silence.

The shop’s door stood open, letting in the crisp, fresh air. Though bright, the afternoon sun cast a weary glow, hinting at the day’s end. Few pedestrians ambled past outside, and a gentle breeze drifted through the open window.

Young Master Feng had been holding his cup, lost in thought, ever since I had sat down.

I raised my cup, a slight smile playing on my lips, and spoke:

“Young Master Feng, do you know of something truly extraordinary in this world? Countless people chase after it, for it can transform even the bleakest days into bright ones. Yet, this very same thing possesses a darker side, capable of carving a world of supposed equality into a hierarchy of classes. Do you know what I’m referring to?”

Young Master Feng, still holding his cup, paused in surprise. He looked up at me and asked, “What is it?”

“It’s money,” I replied.

Young Master Feng stared at the table, pondering for a moment, then raised his cup, signaling for a toast.

We clinked glasses, and I drained my beer in one gulp. I let out a satisfied sigh, gazing out at the sunlight beyond the window.

“Money truly is a good thing… Little Dragon is lying in the intensive care unit now, but I’m not panicking. I thought I’d break down, feared I’d lose my temper and smash things… but nothing of the sort happened. Here we are, drinking together instead…”

Young Master Feng looked at me, unsure how to respond.

I fixed my gaze on the empty street outside, a faint smile touching my lips. “Young Master Feng, I need to discuss something with you.”

Young Master Feng met my gaze. “Lu Ge, please tell me.”

“Lend me some money,” I said.

Young Master Feng hesitated, studying my smile, trying to discern if it was forced or genuine. After a moment, he, too, began to laugh.

In the deserted restaurant, we sat across from each other, both breaking into silent laughter. Young Master Feng finally spoke, “Lu Ge, I thought it was something serious! Why would you hesitate to ask for money? Rest assured, Little Dragon’s medical expenses are definitely…”

I shook my head, cutting him off. “I’m not borrowing money for Little Dragon’s medical bills.”

Young Master Feng froze, letting out a surprised “Ah.” He then asked:

“Then… why?”

I smiled.

“Lend me fifty thousand. No, make it ten thousand.”

“I need to see Old Rooster about something… and, jokingly, I’ll show you how I put money to use.”

Young Master Feng fell silent again for a while, then picked up his cup and took a sip of wine.

“Lu Ge,” he said, “I’ll follow your lead.”

****

The meal, consisting of two dishes and four bottles of beer, didn’t last long.

After we finished eating, Young Master Feng and I hailed a taxi.

We wound through the bustling city streets, eventually arriving in front of a tall, imposing building. The skyscraper’s facade was grand, with gilded lettering spelling out “Liu’s Film and Television Co., Ltd.”

The second basement level of this building housed a dense array of fitness equipment, resembling a private gym. As Young Master Feng and I descended, a burly man, mid-drink while holding a dumbbell, saw me. He paused in surprise, then glanced at Young Master Feng beside me, and shouted into the gym, “Young master has arrived!”

This was my first close encounter with the thirty bodyguards under Young Master Feng’s command.

The remaining twenty-nine burly men inside slowly rose to their feet. Some held dumbbells, others grip strengtheners; their biceps alone were half the size of my head. I suspected they could easily pick me up and use me as a barbell.

Young Master Feng smiled and walked forward, exchanging pleasantries with a middle-aged man who was adjusting a barbell. After a short, laughing conversation, Young Master Feng turned, pointed at me, and announced, “This is my elder brother. You’ll be with him for the next few days, helping him with a few errands.”

The thirty-plus burly men exchanged bewildered glances.

One of them looked remarkably familiar: a powerfully built middle-aged man whose pectorals strained against his black tank top. His face was rugged, his black hair neatly cropped, revealing a scar across his forehead. He held a dumbbell loaded with plates in one hand, looking at me with hesitation. “I feel like I’ve seen this gentleman somewhere before?” he mused.

I nodded. “Indeed. I used to be quite fond of treating people to spicy hot pot.”

The man set down his dumbbell, exhaled, and sat on a sit-up bench, wiping sweat from his brow. He looked at me. “Tell me, are you involved in demolitions, do you need someone taught a lesson, or are you stealing commercial secrets?”

I gave an embarrassed laugh, carefully choosing my words. These people were truly intimidating, always helping others fight, doing demolitions, and even stealing commercial secrets.

“I need to kill someone,” I stated.

The moment the words left my mouth, all the burly, broad-shouldered men fell silent.

Young Master Feng flinched, staring at me. “Lu Ge, you…”

Ignoring Young Master Feng, I maintained a blank expression as I scanned the thirty-plus men. The air grew thick with tension. After a moment, I burst out laughing. “Just kidding, just kidding! Trying to lighten the mood. I don’t have much of a sense of humor, my apologies.”

Young Master Feng visibly relaxed, swallowing hard. He turned to glance at the middle-aged man beside him, who was now looking at me with a grave expression.

Young Master Feng, still a little shaken, forced a smile. “I thought…”

I chuckled. “Let’s not dwell on that. We need to get down to business… Young Master, could you help me find that Old Rooster? I need to discuss something with him.”

Young Master Feng pondered for a moment, then gritted his teeth. “Lu Ge, I can, but you won’t…”

I smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, this is a society governed by law. Who would dare to go too far? I’m not one for fighting, nor am I a ‘social person,’ so rest assured.”

The middle-aged man shot me a glance but remained silent.

Young Master Feng thought for a moment, then sighed. “I’ll make a call and ask around… Old Rooster is quite greedy; if he hears I’m inviting him to dinner, he’ll definitely come out.”

“Go ahead and call now, then,” I nodded. “Thank you for the trouble, Young Master.”

Young Master Feng waved a hand dismissively, sighing with a muffled sound. He pulled his phone from his pocket, stood in place dialing for a moment, then held the phone to his ear, a stiff smile plastered on his face, and slowly began to pace towards the edge of the gym.

As Young Master Feng went off to make his call, the middle-aged man turned to glance at me again. He walked over to the chest press machine and sat down. The twenty-plus burly men in the basement exchanged looks for a bit, then resumed their individual workouts.

I stood for a while, feeling a little tired, and found a piece of gym equipment to sit on. The middle-aged man’s physique was impressive; he added another 10kg to the barbell plates and completed another set. He slowly placed the barbell plates back on the rack, then sat upright. He sighed, smiled, and turned to look at me.

“Young man,” he said, “don’t be so impetuous at your age.”

I was deep in thought on the machine when I heard his words. I looked up. “Huh?”

Young Master Feng was still pacing, nodding and smiling with an awkward, stiff expression. The middle-aged man cast an exasperated glance his way, then chuckled derisively. He leaned closer to me with an air of amusement, whispering, “These rich kids, they always overthink things. Calling some small-time thug ‘big brother’ — that’s just nonsense. You can’t just call everyone ‘big brother’; it doesn’t work that way.”

I nodded in profound agreement, remaining silent.

The middle-aged man, a smile on his face, clapped me on the shoulder. The pat felt significant, delivered with considerable force, like an iron fan striking my shoulder. He spoke softly:

“We, this group of people, take money and do tasks for others. Although we haven’t done much good over the years, we still have to be respectful to our patrons.”

“The young master is good in every way… last New Year’s Eve, he even handmade little pastries for each of us, which made us incredibly happy… but there’s one flaw: he always blindly recognizes ‘big brothers,’ constantly bringing in random people from outside and calling them ‘big brother,’ ‘big brother’…”

My face remained expressionless, swaying from the force of the pats, yet I made no sound. “Big brother,” I asked, “how much is your monthly salary?”

The middle-aged man stopped patting my shoulder. He smiled. “Five thousand. Why? Does Young Master Feng expect me to buy you candy just because he assigned me to you?”

I smiled.

“Then,” I said, “with this one trip with me, you’ll earn a month’s salary.”

He looked at me, chuckling, but said nothing.

I grinned. “Old brother, how should one treat their patron?”

The middle-aged man stood up, patting my shoulder again—this time with appropriate force.

He chuckled. “With respect.”