As soon as Han Qian reached the General Office on the eleventh floor, Gao Lüxing was already waiting outside the elevator—no questions needed; it was obviously about Guan Junbiao. But before Gao could speak, Xiao Yangjia darted into the elevator like a flash of steel, punching the 13A button and heading up to the fourteenth floor. Han Qian offered Gao a brief, apologetic smile, and Gao responded with a casual wave of his hand, as if to say it was nothing.
In truth, Han Qian had rather hoped to chat with Gao Lüxing. Rongyao treated its employees well, but internally it was in disarray. Before he could dwell on it, his phone rang again as he stepped onto the fourteenth floor—Guan Da Gou, inviting him to a café across the street.
Han Qian didn't even bother to answer; he hung up immediately and strode into Yan Qingqing's office. He frowned.
"Is this my second trip to the gallows?"
Yan Qingqing hurled a file at his head, glaring.
"I'm not in the mood for your nonsense. What does Guan Da Gou want with you?"
So even Yan Qingqing knew how notorious Guan Da Gou was. Han Qian caught the file and set it calmly on her desk, frowning.
"I have some minor dealings with him. Why does everyone seem to know this Guan Junbiao? Is he really that infamous?"
"It's not fame—it's infamy. Extortion, fraud, brawling—anything a thug would do, he's done. And whenever there's trouble, he's got underlings to take the fall. A few years in prison, a few well-placed bribes, and he's back out again."
Her phone rang once more. This time, Guan Da Gou's voice came blunt and direct:
"Brother Han, name your price."
Han Qian let out a thoughtful hum before replying evenly,
"Half an hour later, across the street in the café."
He ended the call and looked back at Yan Qingqing.
"You know Tu Xiao?"
"I know of him. We're not close—he's the black boss of District Eight. He's supposedly gone legit in recent years."
"Do you think he'd be interested in moving into construction?"
Yan Qingqing's eyes narrowed, fox-like in their shrewdness. A slow smile spread across her lips, matched by one from Han Qian. Then she abruptly slapped her desk and shot to her feet.
"No! Han Qian, who do you think you are, making these decisions for me? Are you my man or my boss? You want to hand out favors? Absolutely not!"
Han Qian's smile vanished, his brow knitting together.
"Why?"
"Tu Xiao's a gangster. If he cuts corners, we'd have no leverage over him. In the end, I'd be the one held accountable. No—absolutely not."
Yan Qingqing's tone was final. Her cold logic was irrefutable, and Han Qian found himself doubting the plan too. But then he recalled something Guan Da Gou had said earlier:
He wanted to blackmail Gao Lüxing. Han Qian shared this with Yan Qingqing, and her eyes lit up with a calculating gleam. Not waiting to hear more, Han Qian turned on his heel and left her to her thoughts.
Whether Gao Lüxing got blackmailed didn't concern Han Qian. What did concern him was that this idea had piqued Yan Qingqing's interest.
If Tu Xiao really wanted to go after Gao Lüxing, sending Guan Da Gou to chat up Sun Ya hardly seemed like blackmail. More likely, Tu Xiao had ordered him to get close to her—Han Qian was just the backup plan, with Guan Da Gou taking matters into his own hands.
In the café, Guan Da Gou lounged with one leg crossed, flirting across the room with a primly dressed office lady. She fled in a panic, and Guan Da Gou scowled—only to turn and beam as soon as he saw Han Qian. Standing up without regard for the other patrons, he called out in a booming voice,
"Brother Han, over here!"
A waiter quickly approached to remind him not to disturb others. Guan Da Gou's brow darkened; he fished a thick wad of cash from his pocket and began counting bills one by one onto the waiter's tray. Then, still grinning at Han Qian, he barked,
"Brother Han, you're finally here. If you hadn't come, they'd have thrown me in the sea for fish food!"
As Han Qian took his seat, Guan Da Gou warned the waiter,
"Come over here again and I'll break your legs. Bring your best coffee—if it's not enough, cover the difference yourself. The rest is your tip. Now scram."
The waiter scurried away with seven hundred in tips, and no one else in the café dared meet Guan Da Gou's gaze. Han Qian smirked as he settled into his chair, one leg crossed.
"I'm not much for bitter drinks, Brother Guan. And this persistent courtship doesn't feel like it's just about Lin Zongheng. Besides, you can probably tell I'm not exactly in a financial position to be blackmailed."
Guan Da Gou's smile grew more strained.
"Oh, Brother Han, don't say that. If Lin Zongheng wants to harm you, just give me the word and I'll have him rolling in filth by sundown. We're like brothers, you and I—no need for polite talk. If you'd rather drink something else, we can switch to liquor."
Han Qian chuckled softly.
"Brother Guan, you're full of entertaining tales, but if you keep it up, I'll have to get back to the office—I'm not out here to slack off."
Seeing Han Qian about to leave, Guan Da Gou jumped to his feet, anxiety plain on his face. Han Qian laughed suddenly, his eyes glinting.
"Haha! Brother Guan, you're too easy to tease. You were just putting on a show with me at the company earlier, right? I won't walk away so easily. So tell me honestly—did little Tu Kun tell you I'm close with Yan Qingqing, or did you have me investigated?"
The pretense gone, Guan Da Gou slumped back into his chair with a weary sigh.
"I'm not cut out for this, Brother Han. Killing and arson I can do, but this mind game stuff? I'd rather not even speak. My boss found out when the young lady called him this morning—she wouldn't stop talking about you. But believe me, I've got no ill will. I just don't want people saying I'm using cheap tricks because I couldn't beat you in a fight."
Han Qian took a sip of his coffee. It was scalding, and he couldn't help but slurp like an old man drinking tea. Guan Da Gou looked momentarily startled, and Han Qian chuckled.
"I've had the coffee—still can't summon that refined air. Honestly, I prefer tea. As for you, Brother Guan, our bond was forged with fists, not words. If I didn't trust you, who else would I trust—Pinocchio?"
"Pinoc—what? Is that a kind of liquor?"
Han Qian couldn't be bothered to explain. He smiled and continued,
"If you're here just to shoot the breeze, I won't believe it. If I'm right, Tu Xiao's real target is Sun Ya, not me. But you think I'd be more useful, and you know Sun Ya and I don't exactly get along. By dragging me in, you'd only get Sun Ya to bury you—Tu Xiao doesn't want that, so you're in a tough spot. Did I get it right?"
Cold sweat beaded on Guan Da Gou's forehead. He forced a calm expression as he lifted his coffee. Han Qian let out another low laugh.
"Tu Xiao's in a tight spot, isn't he? He needs a way to transform himself—something guaranteed to make money. And only two places can give him that chance: Rongyao and Changxiang. Changxiang's been quiet lately, so he's chosen Rongyao. Tu Xiao wants to be a construction contractor, right?"
Pfft!
Guan Da Gou sprayed a mouthful of coffee onto a man who was just about to leave. He didn't even seem to notice, staring at Han Qian in shock.
"Brother Han… you're a mind reader!"
Han Qian didn't bother answering. He picked up a napkin and offered it to the man who'd been sprayed. The man scowled and pushed it away, reaching for Guan Da Gou's shoulder instead—
Clang!
A flash of cold steel. Guan Da Gou drew a half-meter blade from behind his back and drove it into the table. The man turned and fled without a word. Yan Qingqing, who had just arrived outside the café, witnessed the entire scene.
She had no idea what was going on, only that Guan Da Gou had suddenly brandished a knife and was staring Han Qian down. She dashed across the street toward the café. Han Qian merely shrugged and said quietly,
"Put it away—we're both respectable people here, Brother Guan. You're not going to ask if I've got what it takes to convince Yan Qingqing?"
Guan Da Gou sheathed the knife and let out a long breath.
"Ten seconds ago, I was skeptical. Now, I believe it. Brother Han, you're a genius—Vice President Wen at Changxiang, President Yan at Rongyao… you certainly live a charmed life!"
Han Qian's head snapped up in alarm—Yan Qingqing was dragging a chair over, heading straight for them.
What the hell was the Nightshade Empress doing here?