After being left unattended for half a year, the rooms on the third and fourth floors were actually cleaner than those on the first floor, especially the one Chen Jian had carefully chosen and tidied up. Although the bathroom couldn’t be used, it was clear that someone had cleaned it.
So when Liu Wu suggested taking a shower in the first-floor room he had prepared to sleep in, Shan Yu refused.
“I’m going to shower in 307. All my luggage is in that room too,” he said.
“The third floor, huh?” Liu Wu frowned.
“The power is back on,” Shan Yu turned to Chen Jian. “The elevator works, right?”
“Don’t,” Chen Jian acted quickly, pulling out a roll of tape from under the sink. He tore off a strip with a loud rip and stuck it across the elevator door. “It’s been unused for too long. Wait for maintenance before using it. You’ve only got one good leg left—take care of it.”
Shan Yu looked at the tape, then glanced at Liu Wu.
Sure enough, Liu Wu’s voice rang out in alarm: “Holy shit, am I seeing things? Where did you get that?”
“What?” Chen Jian looked at him in confusion.
“Isn’t this… the warning tape from that room on the third floor?” Liu Wu pointed at the tape. “Did you take it down?”
“Can you read?” Chen Jian asked, genuinely impressed by how much Liu Wu’s fear had fueled his imagination.
“Huh?” Liu Wu was momentarily stunned.
“Why don’t you check what it actually says?” Chen Jian tossed him the remaining roll of tape.
Liu Wu fumbled to catch it, then took a look. “Caution… Construction?”
“Why are you so easily scared?” Chen Jian sighed.
“I’m not easily scared. You just seem fearless to an abnormal degree,” Liu Wu retorted.
Without the elevator, Shan Yu would have to slowly drag himself up the stairs, step by step, while Liu Wu carried the wheelchair up afterward…
Chen Jian stood by the stairs, watching Shan Yu.
“You’ll have to carry him up,” Liu Wu suddenly said.
Oh? Liu Wu, despite looking refined, could actually carry Shan Yu up to the third floor? That would mean Chen Jian had to carry the wheelchair… Just as he was mulling this over, he realized Liu Wu wasn’t moving—he was looking at him instead.
“Huh?” Chen Jian snapped back to attention. “You mean me?”
“Aren’t you his personal assistant now?” Liu Wu asked.
Food, clothing, shelter, and transportation.
This probably fell under “transportation.”
But considering someone like Shan Yu, if Chen Jian carried him once, he worried that from then on, Shan Yu wouldn’t just stop using crutches—he might not even bother sitting in a wheelchair.
“Uh… actually…” Chen Jian hesitated, then walked over to the elevator, reached out, and tore off the tape he had just stuck on. Speaking quickly and quietly, he said, “It used to be inspected once a month, and it’s never had any issues since installation. No one’s been in here to mess with it for the past six months either… so running it once or twice should be fine…”
“Never had issues because it wasn’t used much?” Shan Yu asked.
“Probably,” Chen Jian recalled. Before the incident on the third floor, Zhenxi’s business, among the more upscale inns in town, wasn’t the worst, but most guests found the first floor sufficient.
Thinking about it that way, business was indeed a bit lackluster.
The elevator seemed to be in good shape—its doors opened smoothly.
Chen Jian peeked inside and looked around. There wasn’t much dust, and the lighting was fully functional.
Shan Yu flicked open his folding crutch and stepped inside. Then he turned back. “All of you, get in.”
“Aren’t you able to shower by yourself?” Chen Jian asked.
“Come in and share the risk,” Shan Yu said leisurely. “I’ve only got one good leg left. You two coming in will lower the failure rate.”
Chen Jian and Liu Wu stepped inside together.
The elevator did not disappoint. It reached the third floor without any issues.
However, as soon as they stepped out, they saw a ceiling light flickering.
“What’s wrong with that light?” Liu Wu stopped at the staircase entrance.
“Bad contact,” Chen Jian pressed the switch on the wall a few times, but the light kept flickering. “It hasn’t been turned on for half a year, after all.”
“It’s still flashing,” Liu Wu said.
Shan Yu sighed, raised his crutch, and tapped the switch. With a crisp snap, the light turned off. “Not flashing anymore, right?”
As per Shan Yu’s request, Chen Jian carried a plastic chair from the third-floor gym into the bathroom of Room 307. Then, he tested the showerhead and other fixtures—all in working order. The toiletries were also brand new, labeled with Zhenxi’s logo, clearly taken from the third-floor storage room.
Shan Yu, despite being a paralyzed boss, was determined enough to have probably explored the entire building by now.
Chen Jian was about to head downstairs when Liu Wu, already retreating to the staircase, looked at him. “Where are you going?”
“Downstairs,” Chen Jian replied. “I need a break. I still have to contact some workers in the afternoon.”
“You’re not waiting for my brother to finish showering?” Liu Wu asked.
“What, do I have to dry him off too?” Chen Jian said.
“His leg needs disinfecting,” Liu Wu explained. “He can’t do it himself. I’ll teach you how—it’ll be your job for the next two months after I leave tomorrow.”
“Come here,” Chen Jian beckoned, opening the storage room door and stepping inside. “Got something for you.”
“What is it?” Liu Wu didn’t enter, just poked his head in.
Chen Jian switched on the light and pointed to a rack by the door, where several walkie-talkies were lined up and charging. “Each floor has one. The channels are preset—no need to adjust anything. Just grab one when you need to reach me.”
“Give me one now. It’s probably charged enough by now,” Liu Wu reached out his hand.
Chen Jian sighed, unplugged one, and handed it to him.
No one knew how long Shan Yu would take in the shower. Chen Jian hadn’t slept well the previous night, and after being dragged out of bed early in the morning by Shan Yu, he had been busy ever since. At this point, all he wanted was to rest his head on the table and take a quick nap.
But he had barely dozed off when the surroundings dimmed, and his phone rang in his pocket.
“Ugh,” Chen Jian muttered irritably, pulling out his phone. The caller ID displayed Zhao Fangfang. He answered. “Zhao Jie?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Zhao Fangfang’s voice came from the other end. “Where are you?”
“Zhenxi,” Chen Jian replied. He had a good idea why she was calling, so he asked, “You’re not at the fertilizer plant anymore?”
“Quit. My body couldn’t take it anymore—unloading cargo was too exhausting, and the smell was awful,” Zhao Fangfang said. “How’s the new boss?”
No idea how he is.
Just know that his mouth isn’t great.
“He’s alright. Just met him, so I don’t know much yet,” Chen Jian replied.
“Is the place reopening?” Zhao Fangfang asked again. “Are they hiring?”
“No idea what the plan is yet. Right now, we’re just finding people to clean up,” Chen Jian flipped through the notebook where he had listed the rooms he inspected today. “Vacuuming, washing bed sheets and covers…”
“I can do that. I used to do cleaning work,” Zhao Fangfang said.
“Then come over,” Chen Jian said. “The place has been empty for half a year—the job won’t be easy. If you know anyone else, bring two more people along.”
“I’ll come first,” Zhao Fangfang said.
Chen Jian figured she didn’t want to split the pay with others but didn’t comment. They’d see how the boss arranged things once she arrived.
Shan Yu’s mobility was clearly limited, as it took almost an hour before Liu Wu called Chen Jian upstairs through the walkie-talkie.
By the time Chen Jian arrived, Liu Wu had already spread out a medical kit on the coffee table in the room. Shan Yu was leaning against the headboard, wearing a pair of loose linen pants. His left leg was stretched out on the bed, with the pant leg pulled up to his thigh. Only then did Chen Jian get a clear look at the extent of his injury.
He had initially thought it was just an external fixation brace. But now that the leg was exposed, he understood why the brace was necessary—because there was an open wound.
“…Shit.” He muttered under his breath as he walked closer.
“Scary, huh?” Liu Wu lifted his chin.
“Why do you sound proud of that?” Shan Yu said.
“The pins go directly into the flesh?” Chen Jian leaned in for a closer look.
“Yeah, how else would they stabilize the bone?” Liu Wu’s tone carried a hint of satisfaction, as if he was enjoying the fact that even Chen Jian could be startled. “That’s why it needs to be disinfected.”
“How do you do it?” Chen Jian glanced at the cotton swab in Liu Wu’s hand. “Poke it straight into the wound?”
“How about you kill me first and then disinfect it?” Shan Yu said.
“I’m teaching him, stop interrupting.” Liu Wu suddenly switched into a strict, studious mode.
Shan Yu raised a hand and made a zipping motion over his mouth, falling silent.
“First, disinfect the pin sites and the surrounding skin, then the steel pins. The order goes like this—watch closely,” Liu Wu demonstrated. “Start from the area closest to the pin and wipe outward. Use a new cotton swab for each step, no back-and-forth rubbing… Got it?”
“Got it,” Chen Jian said.
“Try it yourself.” Liu Wu stood up and stepped aside.
Chen Jian wiped his hands with an alcohol pad, mentally reviewing the steps. Then he began, switching cotton swabs as instructed, one after another.
“Your hands are pretty steady,” Liu Wu praised.
“It’s not like I’m threading a needle. No reason to shake.” Chen Jian put down the last swab. “That’s it, right?”
“Yeah, that’ll do.” Liu Wu nodded.
To be honest, just looking at the wound made Chen Jian feel pain. Especially the incision on the side of Shan Yu’s lower leg—it extended downward and backward in a way that looked intentional.
“Whoever did this to you was aiming for your Achilles tendon, huh?” Chen Jian commented.
“Oh?” Shan Yu glanced at him while rolling his pant leg back down. “You sound experienced. Have you done it before, or had it done to you?”
“A cleaning lady will be coming by soon. She can start work right away,” Chen Jian changed the subject. “Talk to her about the pay.”
“Got it.” Shan Yu slowly got up from the bed, his shirt only half-buttoned. As he turned, Chen Jian caught a glimpse of more injuries on his waist—both fresh and old, more than just one or two.
It was only after Shan Yu had left the room, leaning on his crutch, that Chen Jian turned to Liu Wu, who was packing up the medical kit, and quietly asked, “Your brother… where did he used to hang out?”
Liu Wu, perhaps having been warned by Shan Yu beforehand, kept his mouth shut today. He didn’t answer the question directly and instead said, “His mouth is sharp, but he’s a good guy. Loyal.”
“Oh.” Chen Jian nodded.
Even if Liu Wu didn’t say it outright, it wasn’t hard to figure out—Shan Yu wasn’t exactly a law-abiding citizen. At least, he hadn’t been in the past.
Half an hour later, Zhenxi’s second employee—aside from Chen Jian—arrived. She was a lean woman dressed plainly, even somewhat shabbily.
Chen Jian only had time to introduce her briefly. She was called Zhao Fangfang.
“I used to clean here before—I cleaned every floor, top to bottom,” Zhao Fangfang said. She was thin, but her voice was strong. “I know exactly where everything is, and I’m familiar with all the hard-to-reach spots in the rooms…”
“Mm, then you—” Shan Yu tried to cut in, but couldn’t get a word in.
“Chen Jian knows—I work fast and always keep an eye out for things that need doing!” Zhao Fangfang continued. “I worked here for almost a year and never made a mistake…”
“Alright, then you—” Shan Yu tried again and failed once more.
“Just talk about the pay,” Chen Jian quietly reminded him from behind.
“Pay,” Shan Yu said.
Chen Jian blinked and looked up at him.
His way of cutting in was bizarre, but surprisingly effective—Zhao Fangfang finally stopped her eager self-introduction.
“I need this done fast. Everything has to be finished within three days,” Shan Yu said. “Your job is dusting, changing bed linens, and cleaning the floors. You don’t need to do the laundry. Start on the first floor, and when more people come in, we’ll assign them to the upper floors. As for the pay…”
“I can do it, no problem,” Zhao Fangfang said. “You’re a kind boss, no need to hire anyone else. I can finish one room in under two hours—thirty-two rooms, I can get them all done in three days.”
“Boss Shan,” Chen Jian said, not sure if Zhao Fangfang had done it on purpose. “His surname is Shan, not ‘Kind Boss.'”
Shan Yu didn’t say anything.
“Just pay me a bit more than the usual cleaning rate—since it’s dirtier than usual. Before, I got fifty per room,” Zhao Fangfang said.
Chen Jian wanted to remind her that this would be exhausting, but before he could, Shan Yu had already made the decision: “Alright. One hundred twenty per room. Hallways and non-guest areas, two hundred each.”
“Sounds good.” Zhao Fangfang nodded. “Thank you, Boss Shan.”
“The room on the third floor,” Shan Yu looked at her, “can you do that one for extra pay?”
“…I can,” Zhao Fangfang hesitated for less than half a second before nodding.
With the deal settled, Zhao Fangfang quickly retrieved cleaning supplies from the storage room and dashed upstairs.
“Think she can finish it all?” Shan Yu watched her go, then turned to Chen Jian.
“How would I know?” Chen Jian looked back at him. “I thought you would.”
“You two used to be coworkers, didn’t you?” Shan Yu asked.
“She did the cleaning. I handled the storeroom, kitchen chores, and errands—I have no idea how her job worked,” Chen Jian said quietly.
“So what now?” Shan Yu lowered his voice as well.
“Where’s Liu Wu?” Chen Jian asked.
Shan Yu chuckled. “It’s fine. If she can’t manage it, she’ll definitely find people to help and just take a smaller cut. As long as she gets the bigger share, it’ll work out.”
“She probably wants to secure a long-term job here,” Chen Jian said. “It’s a small town—finding steady work isn’t easy.”
“What about you?” Shan Yu asked.
“What about me?” Chen Jian looked at him.
“Before you came here,” Shan Yu asked, “what were you doing for the past six months?”
Chen Jian was silent for a moment. “I’ve been idle for almost two months. Helped out at a repair shop now and then, just to get by. Before that, I worked at a restaurant in town.”
“You had to ‘get by’ for food?” Shan Yu thought for a moment. “You don’t have any savings?”
“No,” Chen Jian replied bluntly.
“Spent it all perming your hair?” Shan Yu asked.
“How do you even come up with this stuff…” Chen Jian laughed, running a hand through his hair. “I did the perm myself.”
“What about your parents?” Shan Yu asked next.
Chen Jian paused, looking at him for a long moment before asking in return, “Why do you want to know?”
“I have to know a bit about the people I hire,” Shan Yu said. “Since I got here, I haven’t met many normal people in this town. Being cautious is reasonable.”
“Then why didn’t you ask Zhao-jie just now?” Chen Jian asked.
“She was too quick. The moment she started talking, I felt like I was getting gunned down—where would I even get the chance to ask?” Shan Yu said. “Why don’t you introduce her?”
“Her husband is disabled, and she has a daughter,” Chen Jian said. “Life’s been pretty tough for her.”
“Mm.” Shan Yu acknowledged it with a sound. “What about you?”
“My mom’s dead, my dad works out of town,” Chen Jian answered simply.
“A left-behind youth, huh?” Shan Yu leaned back in his chair, looking at him but saying nothing more.
“Anything else you want to ask?” Chen Jian stood up. “I still need to contact someone for cleaning the linens and handling the yard…”
“Find a few more people to fix up the outer walls too. Take down the ‘Zhenxi’ sign and get a new one made,” Shan Yu said.
“The sign needs to be changed too?” Chen Jian was surprised.
“Yeah. It’s unlucky,” Shan Yu said.
“What are you changing it to?” Chen Jian glanced outside.
“Leave it blank for now. Haven’t decided yet,” Shan Yu slowly stood up and walked to the window, looking outside. “We don’t need to hire staff yet either—there’s no business anyway.”
Spending twenty grand up front, knowing there wouldn’t be any business.
Chen Jian looked at him. “Boss Shan, I have a question.”
“Mm?” Shan Yu turned his head and gave him a quick once-over. “You look normal enough—what’s the problem?”
“…Even though we just met,” Chen Jian said, “since we’ll be working together—”
“You’ll be working,” Shan Yu corrected him.
“Yes, since I’ll be working here,” Chen Jian said, “I’d like to work with some peace of mind. You’d agree, right?”
“Suddenly being so polite,” Shan Yu said. “You want to ask why I came here?”
That was what he wanted to ask, but since Shan Yu had guessed it outright, it made him hesitate. Now the question felt a bit too abrupt.
“Just needed a place to recover,” Shan Yu said.
Alright then.
That answer was about as useful as if he hadn’t asked at all.
“Oh.” Chen Jian gave up and turned to leave.
“Boss Qian owed me money,” Shan Yu said. “He gave me this losing business to settle the debt.”
“You actually let him screw you over like that?” Chen Jian turned back, stunned.
“What, I can’t experience being an idiot for once?” Shan Yu said.
