It had been a long time since he’d heard his mother’s voice. Even though it was only over the phone, Shan Yu still felt a faint tremor in his chest—part longing, part distance.
Ever since he went in, he’d refused his parents’ visits. Not just his parents—he hadn’t seen anyone except Liu Wu. He only saw Liu Wu because the college entrance exams were coming up, and he worried a bad mood might affect the test.
After coming out, he still hadn’t seen any other family or relatives besides Liu Wu.
He couldn’t say exactly why. It was like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. He didn’t know how to explain it, or how to face them.
And he didn’t have the energy to try.
“How’s the injury?” his mother asked. “Where are you hurt?”
“Hm?” Shan Yu froze for a moment. It wasn’t surprising that she’d managed to call here—Liu Wu had said where they were traveling, and if she called around, she could track him down.
But the injury—he had told Liu Wu not to mention it… Of course, Liu Wu probably didn’t say anything; otherwise she wouldn’t be asking where he was hurt…
“Xiao Wu drove his dad’s car to the hospital twice—both times to pick you up, right?” his mother said. “You can see it in the dashcam logs.”
“Missed a spot,” Shan Yu frowned.
“He doesn’t have any ‘spots’ to miss; it’s all misses,” his mother said. “Is it serious?”
“Not serious. I’m already fine,” Shan Yu said.
“When are you planning to come home for a visit?” his mother asked.
Shan Yu was silent for a while. “We’ll see. It’s busy here—just opened.”
“Shan Yu,” his mother paused for a few seconds, “I’ve told you—your father and I don’t have a preset path for your life. You don’t have to prove anything.”
“I know.” Shan Yu closed his eyes for a moment.
“Alright then—just think it over,” she said. “Also, Xiao Wu keeps ignoring your aunt’s calls. Tell him to call home. Keeping secrets isn’t done like this; it’s basically shouting, ‘I’m hiding something from you.’”
“Mm.” Shan Yu let out a small laugh.
When Shan Yu set the receiver back onto the fax phone, Chen Jian suddenly exhaled hard. Only then did he realize how tense he’d been—standing stiffly at the front desk, not even thinking to step away.
Fortunately, Hu Pan hadn’t stepped away either. She’d been listening, tense and focused; when Shan Yu hung up, she plopped back into her chair, patting her chest. “Ay.”
“Psychological fortitude’s a bit weak, huh.” Shan Yu glanced at her.
“I’m afraid of all parents,” Hu Pan exhaled. “Did your mom scold you?”
Panpan!
What are you asking?
Chen Jian looked at her.
Not the right thing to ask right now, is it?
“No,” Shan Yu smiled. “Why would she scold me?”
“Why else go through all that trouble to call—if not to scold you?” Hu Pan said. “You’re not in touch with your family, are you? They couldn’t find you. If it were my mom and she tracked me down like this, she’d come tear me apart on the spot.”
“She couldn’t,” Shan Yu said. “With so many people in the shop backing you, who’d dare touch you.”
“I’ve got backing now!” Grinning, Hu Pan ran to the bar fridge and fetched him a Coke. “Thank you, Boss Shan. The sugary kind.”
“Thanks.” Shan Yu smiled.
Chen Jian walked with Shan Yu to the café, grabbed two biscuits for him, then sat with him.
“Tough work just now, Manager Chen,” Shan Yu said, tearing open a small biscuit.
“It’s fine.” Chen Jian smiled, still not quite recovered.
Not only because of the call—also because of the exchange between Shan Yu and Hu Pan.
Hu Pan was a somewhat brash girl; life was hard, but she always carried this flaring, rule-breaking sense of loyalty and warmth.
And composure.
Yes—composure.
Easy and unselfconscious.
He suddenly felt a little envious.
He didn’t know when it began, but speaking with Shan Yu no longer felt so easy and unselfconscious.
Was it since that time he “crossed a line”?
Maybe. But that didn’t quite capture it. More precisely, he’d been trying to restrain any curiosity or probing toward Shan Yu—to avoid crossing lines, or perhaps to avoid misunderstandings…
Hard to say.
“Well well, Boss Shan is here too,” someone came in from the side door that led from the garden. “I thought I’d just talk to Manager Chen. What a coincidence.”
Chen Jian turned. It was He Liang, the boss from Liuliang Inn inside the alley.
Trailing behind with a sour face was Sanbing—looked like he’d tried to block him, but failed.
“Boss He.” Chen Jian stood. Seeing that He Liang seemed intent on walking straight to Shan Yu, he stepped aside just enough to block the way. “You could have called. Why come in person?”
Though the three inns inside had no obvious conflict with Dayin on the surface, they were certainly still annoyed in private—especially with the arrival of Liu Wu’s student group. The Beans were quiet inside the inn, but out on the street they were boisterous, laughter all along the way, making Dayin feel like it was fully booked.
Who knew if He Liang was here for business… Or maybe he just wanted to take a swing at the lame boss while he wasn’t paying attention.
“I take a walk around this time every day—just passing by.” He Liang had to stop when blocked. “Came in to chat for a minute.”
“Have a seat,” Shan Yu said from behind Chen Jian.
He Liang hesitated, then sat at the next table.
Sanbing didn’t leave either; he sat on the bench by the door.
“Coffee for Boss He?” Hu Pan hurried over.
“Thanks, sis—an iced Americano,” He Liang said.
“No trouble. One moment,” she replied.
“Dayin’s on track now,” He Liang looked toward the front hall where Zhao Fangfang had just come in hauling two carts of groceries. “Business is booming. Truly happy for you, Boss Shan.”
Shan Yu said nothing—didn’t even look his way.
Boss Shan! Did you hear that? He’s congratulating you!
Not congratulating Manager Chen!
“Thank you, Boss He,” Chen Jian filled the silence. “It’s the holiday—business is good for everyone.”
“The inns inside don’t have quite this level of heat,” He Liang smiled. “Dayin’s management is impressive.”
The words said one thing, the tone suggested another. Chen Jian stayed quiet.
He wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Boss He,” Shan Yu turned his head at last, “you’re welcome to offer any improvements to our management approach.”
He Liang laughed. “Where would I dare suggest improvements? We…”
“Here to learn?” Shan Yu pointed at Chen Jian. “Manager Chen, show Boss He around and share some experience. My leg’s not convenient, I’ll sit this out.”
“No rush, no rush.” He Liang’s face visibly soured, the fake smile gone. “Actually, I do have a small… suggestion—or call it a concern.”
“Just say it.” Shan Yu pivoted his chair to face him. “We’re all familiar here. Say it straight or we get misunderstandings.”
“Alright, Boss Shan is straightforward, so I’ll be direct.” He Liang said, “By rights, the road in front of Dayin is public. We’re grateful you refurbished it.”
Shan Yu said nothing.
That wasn’t direct at all!
Chen Jian could only keep silent.
Hu Pan arrived with coffees—He Liang’s iced Americano, and two lattes for Shan Yu and Chen Jian.
Chen Jian took a sip. If He Liang tried any harder to “not talk in circles,” lightning would strike him for lying.
All he could do was wait patiently for him to skirt the thunder.
“Like you said before—Dayin sits right at the entrance,” He Liang took a sip. “Under normal business conditions, that’s very… advantageous. The location is better than ours inside. But if on top of that you use certain… tactics, that’s not very appropriate.”
Tactics?
Chen Jian blinked and looked at him. “What tactics does Boss He mean?”
At last, He Liang got around to the point. He pointed outside at Sanbing: “Those security guys like Chen Erhu—pulling guests at the entrance isn’t great, is it? It’s supposed to be a free choice…”
“What!” Being pointed at, Sanbing immediately stood, chest out, ready to stride in.
Chen Jian shot him a glare; after a beat of bravado, Sanbing sat back down.
“What?” Shan Yu asked, turning to Chen Jian.
I have no idea!
“Our inns are meant to be somewhat high-end,” He Liang continued. “If walk-ins come, they should be free to browse and pick whichever of the few inns suits them. That’s fair. But now…”
“They’re pulling guests on the road?” Chen Jian cut him off to confirm.
“Yes,” He Liang frowned. “Frankly, isn’t that a bit low-class?”
It wasn’t exactly right—cutting off the customer flow at the gate. But how to respond… If it were Erhu, Chen Jian knew exactly what to say. With He Liang, he was less sure.
“Sorry for the impact,” Shan Yu said, lifting his coffee for a sip before putting it down and looking at He Liang. “Our employees treat Dayin like their own home. When it’s for your own home, no one holds back. For some of the more… overzealous actions, I’ll remind them.”
“Good, good,” He Liang nodded. “I figured Boss Shan and Manager Chen probably weren’t aware.”
“However, Boss He should also realize,” Shan Yu added, “pulling guests at the entrance isn’t illegal or against any regulation. We refrain purely for the sake of everyone’s common interests.”
“Of course, of course. If we all send people to the gate to pull guests, it’ll be chaos,” He Liang said. “And you might not get the advantage.”
“Not necessarily,” Shan Yu replied.
What are you even…
“Thanks for understanding, Boss He,” Chen Jian raised his voice quickly. “We’ll safeguard everyone’s interests—healthy development, healthy development.”
“Manager Chen is young but sensible. Boss Shan knows how to use people.” He Liang stood. “Then I’ll…”
“Hard work, Boss He—coming all this way.” Shan Yu said.
Chen Jian escorted He Liang to the gate. On the way back, Sanbing sidled up. “What happened?”
“Which of you went to the road to pull guests?” Chen Jian asked.
“Lao Si and Lao Wu,” Sanbing said. “Lots of guests lately—many park at the road and then browse around. If you see business like that, you don’t go greet them?”
“Don’t pull like that anymore—wait till they ask,” Chen Jian said. “Otherwise, the inns inside will complain that we’re snatching all the walk-ins.”
“Tch,” Sanbing clicked his tongue. “Then why didn’t they fight for the corner lot and build there? Not everyone spent the same money.”
“Cut it out or we’ll have more conflicts.” Chen Jian patted him. “Go tell them.”
“Mm.” Sanbing nodded.
Back in the café, Shan Yu was still sipping coffee. As Chen Jian came in, he asked, “Any more biscuits?”
“Yeah.” Chen Jian fetched a few and placed them by his hand. “Your attitude…”
“Mm,” Shan Yu acknowledged. “Not very good, huh?”
“The only reason you didn’t get punched was because your leg’s still hurt,” Chen Jian said.
“Is that so.” Shan Yu chuckled. “I’ll try again once my leg’s better.”
Chen Jian gave him a look, at a loss for words.
“If I wasn’t here, could you handle him?” Shan Yu asked.
“I might not say things as comprehensively,” Chen Jian said. “But…”
“But what?” Shan Yu broke a biscuit and popped it into his mouth.
“Maybe I could avoid some needless conflicts,” Chen Jian said, watching him.
Shan Yu ate unhurriedly.
Mind your ‘no talking while eating,’ why don’t you.
Family rule—the only one who wasn’t allowed to talk.
“I’m tired of that kind of communication,” Shan Yu said. “You’re too nice; they’ll push their luck. They need to know we aren’t that easy, and we won’t be afraid of trouble.”
“Right.” Chen Jian nodded. “And if there isn’t trouble, we won’t be afraid to make some.”
Shan Yu burst out laughing; the coffee nearly spilled and he had to set it down quickly.
“You’ve got that big an issue with me?” Shan Yu eyed him.
“Not really,” Chen Jian said.
Aside from a mouth that invited trouble, there was a lot about Shan Yu he needed to learn, bit by bit.
“Work hard, Manager Chen. Once you can handle everything,” Shan Yu said, “I can finally take a vacation.”
Chen Jian glanced at him, saying nothing.
—
Dayin was calm the whole day—everything normal. The only anomaly: guest 102 never left his room, and through the always-uncovered window, peeking in, he lay in bed playing on his phone, not even coming out to eat.
“Keep an eye out—don’t let anything happen,” Chen Jian told Sanbing and Erhu again; they had night duty.
“Damn, what if he’s from—” Erhu’s words were cut off by Sanbing clapping a hand over his mouth.
“Erhu, Erhu—don’t talk nonsense,” Sanbing said.
“Shadow him hard—stick to his window and shadow him,” Erhu growled.
“Have some sense,” Chen Jian said. “Don’t let him call the police on you.”
“Relax.” Erhu tossed his head.
Truthfully, Chen Jian had the same thought—only, if it were true, it’d be so outrageous they’d have to drag Shan Yu to burn incense at a temple.
The Happy Bean crew might not wake up on time in the morning, but they were punctual for dinner—stumbling into the courtyard in nine-palace-step stumbles, dragging their feet.
“Aiyo,” Hu Pan leaned her chin on her hand at the front desk, watching them. “Ran there and ran back? Exhausted like this?”
“Made it to the waterfall!” Liu Wu waved. “The descent is the hard part.”
“Those who’ve cleaned up, head to the restaurant—everything’s ready,” Hu Pan smiled.
“You been up there?” Liu Wu asked.
“Not yet,” she said.
“I’ll show you photos later,” Liu Wu said. “On a day off, go—scenery’s really good.”
“Okay,” she nodded.
The elevator was packed with Beans; Chen Jian had to carry Shan Yu’s dinner up by the stairs. Luckily, nothing soupy today—he jogged up to the fourth floor.
The office door was open; Shan Yu was on the phone. One listen and it was obvious—he was talking to Liu Wu.
“You and your three ounces of stuffing are leaking all over the place—what’s the point of playing missing?” Shan Yu pointed at the coffee table. “Call your mother later. Don’t make her think I sold you to the mountains. With your arms and legs and that brain, I couldn’t get two bucks for you.”
Chen Jian set the tray on the coffee table.
Hanging up, Shan Yu came over. “Have you eaten?”
“I have,” Chen Jian said.
“If there’s nothing big tomorrow, go with me to Half-Immortal Chen’s place.” Shan Yu sat on the sofa and lifted his chopsticks.
“Headache again?” Chen Jian asked.
“No—poor sleep. That medicine of his helped before. I’ll get a few more doses,” Shan Yu said.
“Okay.” Chen Jian hesitated. “If we’re going to the village, I’ll take an hour off afterward.”
“Mm.” Shan Yu nodded. “What for?”
“I’m going to New Village to repay someone,” Chen Jian said. “Need to get a receipt.”
Shan Yu looked at him. “Mm.”
The students didn’t stay up late tonight—tired from hiking, and with river rafting tomorrow that required early lining up. Lights out before ten.
Chen Jian slept for a while in the dorm, but woke before two—he didn’t even know why.
Probably the busy shop, the load of guests, and the strange 102.
He got up, dressed, and took a slow circuit from the fourth floor down.
It was cloudy—no moonlight. Everything felt especially dark, except for the garden’s small path lights.
Chen Jian followed the little lights back.
He planned to circle past 102’s window before returning to the lobby.
102’s curtains were still open, desk lamp on. Chen Jian lifted his flashlight to flick it across the courtyard wall, so the guest wouldn’t be startled if he noticed someone outside.
As he passed, he checked with his peripheral vision. The man was still on his phone—now sitting on the sofa, not the bed.
As long as he wasn’t dead.
Chen Jian turned off his flashlight. Just as he reached the storeroom by the side door, he heard Erhu shout from the front yard: “Who!”
Then Sanbing’s voice: “Stand still!”
Shit.
Is it happening?
Chen Jian took off at a sprint toward the main gate.
