Ning Zhuo’s heart stirred slightly, instinctively glancing at Shan Feibai, only to find him looking back.
Shan Feibai turned his head: “I heard he’s quite fond of getting riled up. If he’s got needs, you could help him out—no need to look far.”
Jin Hu’s face was expressionless, thinking to himself, Such a pretty face, too bad he’s not mute.
Out of his own selfish motives, Jin Hu absolutely did not want Ning Zhuo to meet with Motobu Takeshi.
So he said coldly, “If you’re not going, I’ll report back.”
“I’ll go.” Ning Zhuo put down the controller. “I don’t offend clients.”
Jin Hu: “…” Who the hell is your client? That’s my boss. Are you trying to muscle in?
Ning Zhuo’s mention of “client” made Jin Hu uneasy, and he spent the entire trip wondering what Motobu Takeshi wanted with Ning Zhuo.
Ning Zhuo, on the other hand, remained calm as they arrived at the infirmary.
The infirmary in the high-security prison was, naturally, extraordinary—built to the standards of a presidential suite. A fireplace burned with pine-scented wood, crackling softly, warming the air to a dry, cozy temperature that lulled one into drowsiness.
Motobu Takeshi lay comfortably on a large bed, looking spirited, with almost no trace of his injuries.
A vivid gash on his lip was healing, coated with a thin layer of pink tissue after medication.
After an entirely unnecessary emergency treatment, the doctor confirmed that Motobu Takeshi hadn’t swallowed any glass shards—just a minor flesh wound.
The treated wound barely hurt anymore.
Good.
Motobu Takeshi wasn’t handsome, lacking the refined features of a young master, but he had the soft, pampered body of one. He feared pain and discomfort, and when he wasn’t feeling well, he struggled to focus.
Ning Zhuo, who always disliked the smell of medicine, approached the bed and gave Motobu Takeshi a faint, courteous nod.
Shan Feibai, who had orchestrated two small-scale assassination attempts on Motobu Takeshi, looked at him openly, his expression carrying a youthful curiosity and scrutiny.
Motobu Takeshi’s gaze lingered on Ning Zhuo, tangible, scanning him from head to toe and back again.
Finally, he spoke: “Jin Hu says you’re impressive.”
Ning Zhuo accepted the praise without hesitation: “Compared to him, I am.”
Jin Hu, head lowered, rolled his eyes dramatically.
Motobu Takeshi: “Why were you locked up?”
Ning Zhuo: “Assault.”
Motobu Takeshi laughed: “The real reason.”
Ning Zhuo: “Not convenient to say.”
Motobu Takeshi fixed his eyes on him, as if trying to read something from his face: “A secret?”
Ning Zhuo: “A secret.”
Motobu Takeshi leaned back against a soft pillow, letting out a satisfied sigh: “If it’s a secret, I won’t ask. Mercenaries have their rules, I know. So, I’m hiring you to protect me. Will you take the job?”
When Jin Hu was sent to fetch Ning Zhuo, he’d had a bad feeling.
Hearing Motobu Takeshi’s plan confirmed, he shuddered, not daring to lift his head, his face burning as if slapped.
This was a direct dismissal of their competence.
But just last night, Ning Zhuo had single-handedly trounced all four of them.
Even if Jin Hu was unwilling to admit it, his confidence was hollow.
Ning Zhuo stared at Motobu Takeshi: “You have people around you. Why hire me?”
Motobu Takeshi smiled, revealing slightly yellowed teeth.
Because he wasn’t a fool.
Ever since Ning Zhuo and his group entered the high-security prison, bad luck had plagued him.
If the first two incidents could be chalked up to accidents, the third was clearly an attempt on his life.
Last night, Motobu Takeshi had learned through other channels that his four mercenaries had taken it upon themselves to provoke Ning Zhuo—and were utterly defeated.
For an ordinary person, knowing their life was likely targeted by two highly skilled mercenaries, with their own protectors no match for them, would’ve caused sleepless panic.
But Motobu Takeshi wasn’t panicked.
He even had the composure to summon Ning Zhuo, saying with a grin: “You know, I’ve been plagued by strange incidents lately. My safety’s at risk. So I want to hire capable people to help me sleep better.”
Ning Zhuo stared at the healing gash on Motobu Takeshi’s lip, saying nothing.
At such close range, Motobu Takeshi intended to scrutinize Ning Zhuo but found his attention drawn to his striking appearance.
Marveling with a collector’s appreciation for beauty, Motobu Takeshi posed a sharp question: “Funny thing—ever since you two arrived, I’ve had nothing but trouble.”
To this near-explicit suspicion, Ning Zhuo responded calmly: “So, you don’t trust me, yet you want to hire me?”
Motobu Takeshi leaned against the headboard, hand on his chin, studying the unflappable Ning Zhuo with interest: “It’s not that I completely distrust you. But moving against me so soon after arriving? That’s a bit too obvious.”
Motobu Takeshi had his own calculations.
The falling flowerpot and the electrocution incident could possibly be their doing.
But the glass shard incident? Definitely not.
Motobu Takeshi’s eyes weren’t just Jin Hu and his team—he had other informants.
Jin Hu’s investigation, combined with corroborating evidence, confirmed that Ning Zhuo and Shan Feibai had been in their cell all day, with no time or opportunity for such a malicious act.
Even if, hypothetically, they had the ability to plant glass shards remotely, Motobu Takeshi wouldn’t let them stay in the shadows.
Keeping them close, under his watch, was the best way to control them.
In a joking tone, he spoke his true intentions: “I hire you to protect me, and it’s a win-win. I get to eat and drink in peace, you get paid. If something happens to me, you’re accountable. Fair, right? Haha.”
Ning Zhuo, hands in his pockets, thought for a moment.
His response was direct and resolute: “Fine. But I’m expensive.”
Motobu Takeshi waited to laugh at Ning Zhuo’s serious talk of money.
He’d never worried about money in his life.
To Motobu Takeshi, all conflicts could be resolved with cash.
He was in prison not because his family lacked funds, but because it was a calculated move. By temporarily posing as a “mental patient” and serving a short sentence, his company could secure greater profits, and he could avoid the media spotlight. It was the most cost-effective solution.
Otherwise, a few worthless lives wouldn’t have landed him here.
Money was indeed all-powerful, but that didn’t stop Motobu Takeshi from hating the woman who leaked his face to the media, grinding his teeth in rage.
He suspected she’d been paid by someone to infiltrate and humiliate him.
Afterward, she vanished without a trace.
This only confirmed his suspicions.
Before entering prison, he’d instructed his father to track her down, to keep her until he was released so he could deal with her slowly.
But his father told him plainly: this was a setup to harm Titan Corporation. After such a dirty deed, there was no way she’d be left alive.
So, she was likely dead.
Pursuing it further risked giving their enemies leverage, potentially stirring up more trouble.
Knowing his father was right, Motobu Takeshi swallowed his anger, frustration lodged in his throat.
In prison, he repeatedly summoned prostitutes resembling the woman who betrayed him. He didn’t touch them—just beat them, watching the young women crawl and beg, which eased his rage.
At this thought, Motobu Takeshi’s gaze returned to Ning Zhuo, trying to soothe his violent impulses with beauty: “Name your price, Mr. Ning.”
Ning Zhuo glanced at Jin Hu: “How much is he worth? I’m at least more expensive.”
JJin Hu’s face twisted with anger.
Motobu Takeshi explained with a smile: “He’s a long-term hire. You’re different.”
After a moment’s thought, he said: “Five hundred thousand. Enough?”
Jin Hu’s still-twisted face flushed with jealousy.
That was his annual salary!
Yet Ning Zhuo dared to object: “Six hundred sixty-six.”
His reasoning was solid: “Don’t you want everything to go smoothly? Six-six-six, for good luck.”
The more Ning Zhuo pushed back, the more Motobu Takeshi liked him, barely able to look away.
“I want my surroundings clean—no more threats,” Motobu Takeshi said, eyes blazing. “Understood?”
“Only here,” Ning Zhuo added a condition. “You’ll leave prison before me. I have other work. Until your release, I’ll stay by your side.”
Motobu Takeshi was eager to seal the deal, and Ning Zhuo didn’t play coy.
And so, both sides quickly reached an agreement.
Behind him, Shan Feibai took in everything, his mind racing through several possibilities before piecing things together. He lowered his long eyelashes, playing deaf and mute, not saying a word.
Motobu Takeshi told Ning Zhuo and Shan Feibai to go pack their things, as they could move into the upgraded “staff dormitory” the next day—single rooms, just like Jin Hu and the others.
Ning Zhuo declined, negotiating for a double room instead before leaving the infirmary with Shan Feibai.
Jin Hu didn’t dare object, watching the two leave, his lips twitching as if he wanted to speak but held back.
After a few tense minutes, he couldn’t hold it in: “You’re… really hiring him?”
Motobu Takeshi closed his eyes, savoring the lingering minty scent of the beauty. Opening them to Jin Hu’s stubbled face, he felt a twinge of distaste.
He closed his eyes again, fingers tapping his knee through the blanket: “I know what you’re thinking. He might be trying to scare or extort me by threatening my life, forcing me to buy peace? Let him try. Am I short on cash?”
Motobu Takeshi paused, then said icily, “He’d better not let me catch any evidence. Once I’m out and he’s still in here, I have plenty of ways to deal with him.”
Jin Hu’s heart trembled, his jealousy toward Ning Zhuo vanishing instantly.
“Get along with him. Don’t do anything stupid without my permission.”
Motobu Takeshi mentally reviewed the day’s events, then latched onto something: “Oh, and find out what that ‘White Shield’ cop wanted with me today.”
Jin Hu eagerly acknowledged but barely registered the last order.
His mind was stuck on Motobu Takeshi’s earlier words.
Strange.
Jin Hu had previously planned to pin the flowerpot incident on Ning Zhuo, letting him take the fall.
But when Motobu Takeshi spoke of killing Ning Zhuo, Jin Hu found no satisfaction in it.
He couldn’t pinpoint the source of his vague discomfort. Only after leaving the infirmary, dazed, did it hit him:
—Damn, isn’t this what Ning Zhuo called being a cheap bastard?
…
On the way back to their cell, Shan Feibai walked side by side with Ning Zhuo.
Lowering his voice to ensure no one else could hear, Shan Feibai said, “Ge, this doesn’t seem like our plan.”
Ning Zhuo didn’t even glance at him: “Scared?”
Shan Feibai grinned: “Not at all. It’s kind of thrilling.”
Ning Zhuo sized him up, noting his genuine expression, and gave a satisfied nod in his mind.
Back in their room, Ning Zhuo pulled out a silenced communicator from his pocket, seeing five missed calls from Jin Xueshen.
Ignoring them, he lay on the bed, covering his eyes with the back of his hand.
So far, despite minor hiccups, things were going smoothly.
What happened next depended on whether Lin Qin had what it took.
