Old Lü wasn’t particularly friendly. Chen Jian could tell, though simply because he was a local from the village and familiar enough, Old Lü didn’t arrange a freezing water-splashing festival for him like they had for Da Li.
Chen Jian recognized all the people inside the shop; they were all owners of the barbecue stalls here.
Everyone’s business operated basically the same way: a simple storefront including the area out front, enclosed by a windproof shelter. Further into the center lay the open barbecue grounds, shared by all the stalls. When guests wanted to grill their own food, they would buy ingredients from the shops and head over to the communal grounds. Grilling tools and charcoal were available for rent, and guests could bring their own food for a small venue fee.
Normally, Da Li and the others simply needed to rent the large open grounds and pay enough rent. Theoretically, this didn’t conflict with these stall owners at all, so Chen Jian couldn’t immediately figure out why they had refused.
Right then, everyone inside watched Chen Jian through the lifted curtain. As Chen Jian stood at the doorway and Old Lü started dropping the curtain to shut him outside—giving him a show of authority—Chen Jian reached out, caught the falling fabric, and hitched it right back up. Leaning a hand against the doorframe, he greeted everyone inside: “Uncles, Aunts.”
“Nothing to talk about,” someone said, waving a hand dismissively. “Didn’t the ones who just left tell you?”
“They were almost frozen to death, so they didn’t have time,” Chen Jian said. “We didn’t know if they said something out of line, so we rushed right over.”
“They’re working for big bosses, brimming with confidence! What could they say out of line? Every word was as big as a water vat—toss one out and it’d crush us to death.”
“Isn’t that Boss Shan a cripple?” Old Lü blocked the doorway, glancing behind Chen Jian. “How’s he not limping anymore?”
It migrated to his hand.
“He was injured before, not crippled. He just got the brace taken off.” Chen Jian looked back as well.
Shan Yu had already stepped out of the car. He tucked something into his inner coat pocket and pulled on a glove as he walked over.
Though he could only slip on one glove, and because the helping hand was useless, he had to bite down on the cuff to tug it into place.
Even so, that leisurely, effortless air really was enough to make Da Li use the term “shady background.” Whether a broken leg with an intact hand, or a broken hand with an intact leg—whether on one whole person or half of one—commanding an oppressive aura was Shan Yu’s specialty.
He made Chen Jian’s worn-out, long coat look like a mob trench coat concealing a blade.
“What does he do?” Old Lü kept his eyes locked on Shan Yu.
The people inside had fallen silent as well, all watching the figure approach.
“…He’s the boss of Dayin,” Chen Jian answered, unsure how else to phrase it. “Does boss stuff.”
Hearing his own words sound ridiculously awkward under the influence of Old Lü’s question, he added, “He’s a businessman.”
“I’m not asking about his cover,” Old Lü muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes with the certainty of someone who had completely seen through Shan Yu’s secret identity.
“Then I honestly have no idea,” Chen Jian replied truthfully.
In movies, people with those identities don’t reveal them easily anyway.
I’ll ask him for you when I have time.
“All the owners are here?” Shan Yu arrived at the doorway.
“This is Uncle Lü,” Chen Jian introduced. “And the folks inside are the stall owners here.”
Chen Jian had been standing at the threshold without entering, but now that Shan Yu was here, he dropped the formalities. Slipping sideways past Old Lü, he lifted the curtain over Old Lü’s head, making way for this Boss Shan who seemed to carry a hidden past.
At the same time, he introduced him to the room: “This is Boss Shan from our Dayin.”
Shan Yu dipped his head slightly and stepped inside.
Only after Chen Jian let the curtain fall did Old Lü speak up: “It’s cold out. Sit inside and chat for a bit.”
“What’s there to chat about!” someone raised their voice. “Whoever comes gets the same answer: whatever the Chen families agreed to has nothing to do with us!”
Shan Yu didn’t say a word. He pulled over the chair that the man had been resting his feet on, spun it half a turn behind himself, and sat down.
Chen Jian didn’t sit, remaining standing beside him. In an atmosphere that could escalate into an argument or an outright brawl at any second, he couldn’t bring himself to relax.
“I didn’t come for that. I just want to find out what happened,” Shan Yu said, leaning back into the chair. He bit down on the middle finger of his glove and pulled it off. “I have no clue what those other inns negotiated with the village.”
Chen Jian saw right through it: going through the trouble of putting on and taking off a glove over a distance of three and a half steps served no purpose other than setting an intimidating stage.
“You’re joking,” Old Lü said. “You’re partnering with them on this, and you wouldn’t know?”
Shan Yu said nothing, merely tilting his head a fraction.
“We truly didn’t know,” Chen Jian said. “We were only just notified.”
Old Lü exchanged glances with the others in the room.
“Then you were screwed over.” The one speaking with the booming voice was the youngest owner present. Chen Jian wasn’t close with him, knowing only that his surname was Wang and everyone called him Big Wangba.
“Is that so?” Shan Yu smiled.
“They’re taking advantage of Boss Shan’s lack of experience,” Old Lü sowed discord at the opportune moment, taking the chance to pry, “What business were you in before?”
“No business,” Shan Yu said, reaching inside his coat to pull out the item he had tucked away earlier, handing it backward to Chen Jian.
Chen Jian took it and realized it was a carton of cigarettes.
He knew nothing about tobacco, but judging by Old Lü’s expression, it was the premium stuff.
Chen Jian opened the carton and set the packs on the small table in the center.
Big Wangba chuckled, immediately reaching out to grab a pack. Unwrapping it, he said, “If you weren’t in business, where’d you get the capital to take over such a big inn?”
“Just got out of prison,” Shan Yu said. “Didn’t spend a dime taking over that inn.”
The delivery of those words was a masterclass in finesse.
Chen Jian applauded Shan Yu inwardly. Sure enough, when talking failed, he bluffed.
The effect was instantaneous. Big Wangba’s smile froze on his face, his fingers unwrapping the pack stuttering to a halt.
A brief hush fell over the room.
Though these owners were tough to deal with and ready to grab tools for a fight at any slight dispute, their hostility had limits. A recently released convict who may have used ruthless means to take someone’s inn was on a whole different level—even the likes of Chen Dahu, who merely caught administrative detentions, gave them pause.
Taking advantage of this freshly paroled Boss Shan—who had absorbed the entire pigpen crew, used high-tech surveillance to put Chen Dahu behind bars, and gone from a broken leg to a broken hand—successfully pulling off his tough-guy bluff, Chen Jian steered the conversation back to business: “Why did everyone disagree with them using the barbecue grounds? Normally, when people come over, everyone’s business picks up.”
“All the customers will be drawn outside,” Old Lü said, recovering his wits and grabbing a pack of cigarettes to open. “Who’ll still come eat inside the shops? How much are they paying for venue rent compared to the losses from our stolen customers?”
“Exactly! You guys spend pocket change on rent and snatch up all the business—who does things like that?” Big Wangba chimed in. “It makes no sense. Boss Shan runs in the underworld, you should get what I mean.”
When did he ever run in the underworld?
Chen Jian looked at Big Wangba, maintaining a stern face to play along with Shan Yu.
“Put it this way,” Shan Yu leaned back against the chair. “Whether everyone agrees or not, this bonfire festival is definitely going to happen…”
The expressions in the room darkened immediately.
Shan Yu didn’t even look up at them, keeping his eyes on his hand as he spoke in an unhurried tone: “The event is already registered, and preliminary promotions have rolled out. It counts as a town-level event. If a fight breaks out when the time comes, everyone here will be on the losing end. Blocking it accomplishes nothing; we might as well discuss how to make it work.”
“Why the hell should we take the loss!” Old Lü lit a cigarette and barked.
“It’s registered. Anyone causing trouble will be arrested,” Chen Jian supplemented. He didn’t know if he was making that up, but his delivery was completely unwavering.
Learning from the boss.
Perhaps remembering Chen Dahu—who had run rampant across the township for years without going to prison, only to be locked up the moment Shan Yu arrived—Old Lü fell silent again.
Big Wangba was fairly quick on his feet. Looking at Shan Yu, he asked, “Then do you have any ideas that benefit us?”
“Depends on how you define ‘benefits.’ Two approaches,” Shan Yu looked back toward the distant grounds. “One is partitioning the space. Since it’s communal, no single party can claim all of it. Divide it by zones, and they stay in theirs…”
“Bullshit!” Old Lü snapped.
“The other is renting the grounds to them as planned, letting the event run,” Shan Yu said. “In exchange, you offer one complimentary serving of barbecue and two bottles of beer to guests who don’t want to freeze in the wind outside…”
“What the hell?” Big Wangba froze. Spitting the cigarette out onto the floor, he moved to stand up.
At the same time, Chen Jian glanced back at the table he was leaning against. An aged vinegar bottle rested on the surface, within easy reach of his hand.
“Provided by Dayin, but in limited quantities,” Shan Yu continued smoothly, completely unbothered by the man’s posture. “Most people won’t just leave after finishing the free food. Once they start drinking and chatting, they’ll inevitably order more.”
The room quieted down. It actually sounded reasonable.
Big Wangba picked his cigarette up off the floor and stuck it back between his lips.
“What if they just leave right after eating the free food?” Old Lü’s wife, who had been leaning against the door listening, chimed in.
“Big sister,” Shan Yu glanced at her, “I’m funneling foot traffic your way, far more than your usual customer count. Whether you can retain them depends on your taste. Customers eat varying amounts on normal days too, and you wouldn’t hold me responsible for that, would you?”
Chen Jian looked at Shan Yu.
Boss, I call Old Lü’s wife ‘Aunt.’
“Events like this will happen again in the future,” Shan Yu said, pulling Yao Yi’s conference pass from his pocket and looking at it casually. “There was a meeting a while back, what was it called…”
“Provincial Tourism and Culture Conference,” Chen Jian recited the title immediately, terrified that a second of hesitation might prompt someone to snatch the pass and see Yao Yi’s photo on the front.
“Right, that was discussed at the meeting…” Shan Yu slipped the pass back into his pocket.
The people in the room exchanged glances once more.
“The free barbecue will be covered by Dayin?” Old Lü asked.
“You don’t need to worry about how I negotiate with the others. If anything comes up, just contact Chen Jian,” Shan Yu said.
“And if their people come looking for us, who calls the shots between you guys?” Big Wangba asked, keeping his head on straight.
“Whoever can get things done properly for everyone calls the shots,” Shan Yu smiled faintly.
“Deal,” Big Wangba pointed a finger at Shan Yu. “I’ll deal with you. You’re a man of your word.”
“Discuss it amongst yourselves first,” Shan Yu stood up, casting a glance at Chen Jian. “Keep in touch with the owners.”
“Understood.” Chen Jian lifted the curtain for Shan Yu. Once Shan Yu walked out, Chen Jian let the fabric fall and looked at Old Lü. “Uncle Lü, let me know once you’ve talked it over? Then we can lock down the specifics.”
“Alright,” Old Lü nodded, glancing at the fallen curtain as if staring right through it at Shan Yu. “This boss of yours… what did he go in for?”
“They wouldn’t tell someone like me about that kind of stuff,” Chen Jian said. “I’m just a hired hand.”
Old Lü paused, then nodded: “True. You’re just a kid, you wouldn’t know.”
Stepping out of Old Lü’s shop, Chen Jian exhaled a long breath. Looking at Shan Yu already sitting in the driver’s seat, an odd sense of relief washed over him.
He walked over to the driver’s side and tapped on the glass.
“What?” Shan Yu rolled down the window. “Planning to drive without a license?”
“Boss is impressive,” Chen Jian said.
“If you say that after getting in, am I suddenly not impressive?” Shan Yu asked.
“Just felt like saying it right now,” Chen Jian walked around the front and got into the passenger seat. “Back there, I was worried they were going to jump you.”
“Were you getting ready to grab that bottle and fight?” Shan Yu turned the car around and drove back.
“You noticed the bottle?” Chen Jian looked at him.
“Saw it the moment I walked in,” Shan Yu said.
“No wonder Old Lü was prying about what you did before,” Chen Jian remarked.
“Wasting my days, never did anything productive,” Shan Yu replied.
“Really?” Chen Jian kept his eyes on him. “Then where did you learn all these negotiation tactics? I hadn’t even fully wrapped my head around it before you wrapped up the deal.”
“First crush their momentum, then offer some perks to show sincerity, then analyze the pros and cons to lay out a solution,” Shan Yu said. “That’s how you negotiate.”
“What if talks break down?” Chen Jian asked.
“Whether you curse, argue, or even fight, it’s all about利益—benefits. If you have benefits to offer, you can negotiate,” Shan Yu said. “Once it crosses your baseline, you walk away.”
Chen Jian said nothing, keeping his head turned to look at Shan Yu… Luckily, he wasn’t the one driving.
The Shan Yu handling business and the Shan Yu lounging on the office sofa gave him entirely different impressions, both… deeply charming.
Shan Yu hesitated for a beat before adding, “My mom taught me.”
“Ah.” Chen Jian paused.
Hearing Shan Yu say it, it wasn’t hard to imagine. That phone call with Shan Yu’s mother was still vivid in his memory, but because Shan Yu rarely mentioned his parents, Chen Jian hadn’t made the connection.
“I’ll tell you about it when we have time,” Shan Yu said. “Aren’t you scheduled to take Subject 1 today?”
“Mm,” Chen Jian nodded. “Scheduled for two-thirty this afternoon.”
“Taking it in the old town? How are you getting there?” Shan Yu asked.
“Riding the scooter,” Chen Jian said.
Shan Yu glanced at him.
Chen Jian felt a slight tug in his chest, asking without thinking: “Are you going on a business trip?”
The second it left his mouth, he felt like an idiot.
“Mm,” Shan Yu laughed. “I’m going on a business trip.”
“…Take the shuttle bus then?” Chen Jian tested the waters.
“No!” Shan Yu rejected instantly.
“Then… we go to Brother Rui’s shop first, borrow his car, and then…” Chen Jian chuckled at his own words, “and then you drive.”
Whose boss has it this rough?
Tang Rui’s car was parked in the repair shop, but he wasn’t around; only Chen Xiaohu was there.
While Chen Jian spoke with her, Shan Yu walked over to the chest freezer and peered inside.
The freezer looked the same as the first time he had passed by—just a few bottles of water—but on the very bottom rack, he spotted something unexpected.
Two Four-Ring ice creams.
“They still have these?” he couldn’t help asking.
“Just those two left,” Chen Xiaohu said. “Chen Jian came by a few days ago and bought ten. He finished the rest.”
While I was on that business trip, Store Manager Chen would rather come here to eat popsicles alone than send me a single text message.
Truly impressive.
He slid open the freezer lid and took out both ice creams.
“Eating them now?” Chen Jian walked over with the car keys.
“Mm.” Shan Yu passed one to him.
“I don’t really want one right now,” Chen Jian took the ice cream anyway.
“Is it toxic if two people eat it together?” Shan Yu teased.
Chen Jian laughed, unwrapping the paper and taking a bite.
Shan Yu wasn’t sure why, but he probably just wanted to experience what it felt like when Chen Jian had sat here eating ice cream all by himself.
Braving the freezing wind under Chen Xiaohu’s baffled gaze, the two of them finished eight rings between them.
Chilled to the core, inside and out.
Driving to the old town was much faster than taking the scooter or the shuttle bus. Perhaps it was psychological—after all, it was warm, free of squeezed crowds and barnyard animals.
Chen Jian didn’t sleep along the way. He spent the entire drive drilling mock exam questions on his phone. Ever since booking the test, he had only run through the question bank twice, unsure if he could pass.
He glanced toward Shan Yu.
Shan Yu was watching the road ahead.
Still, the two mock tests I tried earlier were both passing scores.
Might as well do a few more during the drive.
He glanced toward Shan Yu.
Shan Yu was watching the road ahead.
Once we get to the test center, there should be spare time to run through it a couple more times…
He glanced toward Shan Yu.
Shan Yu was looking right back at him.
“Hey,” Chen Jian said awkwardly, “eyes on the road.”
“I am watching,” Shan Yu turned his eyes back to the road.
Arriving at the test center, there weren’t many people waiting. With half an hour before Chen Jian’s testing slot, neither of them got out, choosing to wait in the car.
“I’m a little nervous,” Chen Jian spun his phone over and over in his palm. “It’s been a long time since I took an exam.”
“Try drilling the questions once more to steady your nerves,” Shan Yu said.
“No, looking at them just scrambles my head,” Chen Jian kept twirling the phone. “I wasn’t anxious at all before, but getting here made it kick in.”
Shan Yu reached out and pressed down on the hand spinning the phone. “If you fail, you retake it. What’s there to be anxious about?”
Chen Jian looked down at his hand.
Because of the bandages, he could only feel the tips of Shan Yu’s fingers—warm, resting firmly against his palm.
The warmth pulsed along his heartbeat, pumping into his wrist, up his arm…
Turning to look at Shan Yu, Chen Jian closed his fingers, gripping Shan Yu’s hand tight.
