Chapter Forty: The Ninety-Point Beauty

Yang Jiekai didn’t bother to dwell on whether Han Ning had eaten the banana he’d prepared for her. He hadn’t done it out of any deep concern for this perpetually cold woman, but because her background bore similarities to his own—they were both orphans, bereft of parents. That pain buried deep within, unsure whom to confide in, was something Yang Jiekai understood.

He whistled leisurely as he walked, breathing in the fresh air, savoring the thought that he was on his way to work. His mood was buoyant. At last, he could count himself among the gainfully employed!

“Morning, gentlemen! Off to work, eh?” Yang Jiekai greeted the two security guards standing at the gate, pride written all over his face as he chuckled, “I’m heading to work as well. Work is a wonderful thing…”

The two guards exchanged glances as he walked away. Was going to work really something to be so happy about?

Leaving the villa’s gate behind, Yang Jiekai continued whistling, head held high, making his way toward the bus stop. Residents of Shizhu Villa were all wealthy or distinguished; nobody else walked out on foot like he did. Occasionally, passing cars would honk at him playfully, but Yang Jiekai paid them no mind—he figured they were simply “jealous” of his employment.

Suddenly, a black Bentley screeched to a halt beside him.

He turned to look—wasn’t that his wife’s car?

“Morning, wife! I’m off to work!” Yang Jiekai called out warmly.

The window rolled down slowly. Han Ning sat behind the wheel, her face as cold as ever. She didn’t speak, merely tossed something to him, then rolled the window back up and sped away.

Yang Jiekai caught the item deftly, opened his hand, and stared at it momentarily before breaking into a smile.

“Seems my wife isn’t as stingy as I thought!”

He looked at the JEEP-branded car keys in his palm, smiling as he turned back toward Shizhu Villa.

In the villa’s underground garage, he pressed the key, and the matte black, rugged JEEP Wrangler parked in the far corner flashed its lights.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, gripping the familiar steering wheel, he felt a surge of affection. This very model had accompanied him through countless battles, and on its seats he’d charmed many noble ladies.

He started the engine, its powerful roar filling the garage. Stepping hard on the gas, the Wrangler surged forward like a wild beast unleashed…

Speeding along, Yang Jiekai relished the sensation he hadn’t felt in ages. Though this Wrangler couldn’t compare to his old, heavily modified, near-armored version, it still exuded that bold, untamed spirit.

Driving was much faster than taking the bus, so instead of heading straight to the company, he took a long detour, enjoying the ride before finally pulling into the Silkbud Tower’s underground parking lot.

The basement garage was vast, filled not only with vehicles belonging to Silkbud Group employees but also outsiders, including several luxury cars. His Wrangler was unremarkable among them.

Thinking about how he could drive this car to and from work every day, never again crammed in a crowded bus, Yang Jiekai’s mood soared even higher. Whistling, he entered the elevator.

“Hey, Xiaoshi, why do you always say you’re busy? This time, you can’t refuse me. I’ve already invited a few buddies and promised to introduce you to them. If you don’t go, I’ll have no face before them.”

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Yang Jiekai heard the sickly voice of Security Captain Wu Daode, likely pestering some female employee again.

Stepping out, Yang Jiekai glanced toward the sound and saw the corpulent Wu, clad in his security uniform, leaning on the front desk, grinning at a receptionist.

Observing closely, Yang Jiekai’s eyes lit up.

Another beauty scoring a ninety!

The receptionist, clearly uncomfortable with Wu Daode’s advances, lowered her head and stammered, “Captain Wu, I really don’t have time today. I need to hurry home…”

She was a delicate type, dressed in a tailored black business suit, her hair pinned up, her fair face exquisitely featured—yet now she looked helpless and anxious.

Yang Jiekai pondered briefly, recalling Wu’s piggish appearance and Qin Feng’s mention of the company’s beauty rankings. He was certain this ninety-point beauty was the receptionist Qin Feng had mentioned—a girl named Xiaoshi.

“But if you don’t go, how am I supposed to explain to my friends? I told them yesterday I’d bring you to meet them today, no matter what!” Wu Daode, having been rejected countless times, was running out of patience. Seeing her shake her head no matter what he said, his tone grew heavier, tinged with annoyance.

Xiaoshi’s patience was fraying as well. Hearing Wu’s thinly veiled threat, she raised her head and said through clenched teeth, “I’ve never agreed to eat with you. What your friends think is your problem, not mine!”

It was almost time for work, and the lobby was filling with employees. Wu, seeing that this usually gentle woman was embarrassing him in front of so many people, twitched his lips angrily, his face darkening.

“Chen Shishi!” Wu suddenly raised his voice, “Don’t think too highly of yourself. You’re just a receptionist! You really think you’re someone important? I’m a company officer. Asking you to eat with me is a compliment—you should be grateful!”

Chen Shishi, who had seemed fragile, now looked Wu Daode in the eye, all tension and anxiety gone. She stared at him stubbornly, saying nothing.

Seeing her unafraid, Wu worried the situation might escalate. He snorted, gave Xiaoshi a vicious glare, spat out “Just wait and see!” then turned away, hands behind his back, striding off with an air of authority. He happened to spot Yang Jiekai watching with amusement.

Feeling irritated, Wu Daode decided to vent his leadership. Looking at Yang Jiekai, he snapped, “You, come here!”

Hey, this guy stole my line!

Yang Jiekai wasn’t bothered by Wu’s annoying demeanor—few people could anger him. Back in the mercenary world, “You, come here!” was his line to others. Hearing it from someone else felt oddly novel.

“Are you talking to me, boss?” Yang Jiekai replied with a mocking smile.

Wu didn’t catch the sarcasm. Yang Jiekai’s “boss” made him feel quite pleased, his tone softening slightly, though his expression remained irritating. “Why aren’t you in uniform?”

Yang Jiekai answered, “I just got here, haven’t had time to change yet.”

Wu nodded, “Right, you take the bus, so of course you arrive later than those of us who drive. Go change, and next time, come earlier. Buses are slow—leave home earlier in future.”

“Yes, boss!” Yang Jiekai struggled to suppress a laugh. Everyone knew Wu Daode had picked up a secondhand Alto from a scrapyard somewhere, repainted it, and brought it to the company every day for a wash at the car wash next door. Wu’s extreme posturing was a spectacle—even Yang Jiekai had to admit defeat. The peak of showing off was driving a secondhand Alto with the swagger of a Mercedes owner.

“Well, I’m just saying—even though you take the bus and I drive…” Wu Daode was about to continue extolling the virtues of being a car owner, when his chubby face suddenly twitched, breaking into a disgusting smile, as if a pile of cow dung had exploded into a flower.

“Minister Zhang, good morning!” Wu waddled past Yang Jiekai, nearly running to greet someone.

Yang Jiekai turned to see a young man in a striped suit step out of the elevator, pale and arrogant. Wu Daode, spotting him, behaved like a lapdog before its master.

“Maestro, how many times have I told you!” The so-called Minister Zhang looked displeased at Wu’s fawning. “Don’t greet me in Chinese—say ‘Good morning!’ I grew accustomed to life abroad, Chinese doesn’t suit me!”

“Yes, yes…” Wu replied, his smile so sycophantic it was almost nauseating. “Good morning to you, esteemed Maestro Zhang.”

Minister Zhang nodded, “That’s more like it, though your pronunciation needs work. Practice more at home. Remember, use English as much as possible—don’t keep speaking that rustic Chinese. How can you fit into high society like that? Who speaks Chinese anymore?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll study English diligently!” Wu beamed, nodding repeatedly.

Yang Jiekai nearly gagged hearing Wu’s mangled English—did foreigners even understand that?

But Minister Zhang’s “rustic Chinese” comment irked Yang Jiekai. Though he hadn’t grown up in this country, his feelings for it were stronger than most.

“Minister Zhang, good morning!” As Zhang walked past, Yang Jiekai shouted in perfect Chinese.

Minister Zhang was startled. Seeing it was an unfamiliar security guard, he frowned, “Why so loud? This is a company, not a vegetable market!” Then, he scolded, “You too—greet me in English from now on. We’re connecting with the world, how can you keep using that rustic Chinese?”

“Alright, good morning, Minister Zhang!” Yang Jiekai replied earnestly, mimicking a thick regional accent, making Zhang frown again.

“Say it in English!” Minister Zhang demanded, irritated by the accent he found unbearably provincial.

“But…I only know one sentence in English,” Yang Jiekai said, pretending to be at a loss.

“Then say that one sentence! Just don’t use your rustic dialect!” Zhang insisted.

“Really?” Yang Jiekai asked.

“Just do it!” Zhang snapped, growing impatient.

“Well, alright…” Yang Jiekai muttered, then strode to the center of the lobby, turning to ask Zhang again, “Minister Zhang, you really want me to say it?”

“Just say it, stop wasting time!” Zhang barked.

With confirmation, Yang Jiekai cleared his throat and shouted in a booming voice, “FUCK!”