Downstairs, Han Qian didn't rush to head back up. Setting down the things in his hands, he frowned.
"Is this Lin Zongheng you mentioned the one from Changxiang Group?"
Guan Junbiao shrugged and scoffed.
"How many sons does the Lin family have? His father married the sister of Wen Shu's sworn brother, Lin Mengde, just to secure shares in Changxiang. That whole family is rotten to the core."
Puffing on his cigarette and cursing the Lin father and son, Guan Da Gou made Han Qian feel a flicker of relief—he loathed the Lin family so much he surely wouldn't take the job. Han Qian let out a slow sigh.
"That bastard really won't let me go, huh? If you don't take the job, who else would he find?"
"Not take it? We didn't refuse. We accepted it, actually."
Guan Junbiao looked at Han Qian with a puzzled expression, while Han Qian's eyes were already searching for a handy brick to grab. But Guan, a seasoned street operator, instantly saw what he was thinking. He stood up and gave a sheepish smile.
"Brother, we may have accepted the job, but whether we carry it out is up to us. If today hadn't happened, maybe someone would have made a move on you sooner or later. Now? No way. No fight, no friendship—right? Besides, it seems my lady has taken quite a liking to her little uncle."
"Doesn't your old man care about Tu Kun dating early?"
"Care? Why would he? Our boss has sharper eyes than all of us flunkies. No one in the Tu family can even read, but I hear Li Jiawei is a pretty decent student. They didn't go to the school sooner because they wanted to see if he had any guts—not to solve anything, just to show up. After that, it's the Tu family's problem. The boss told the young lady: as long as they don't sleep together, they can do whatever they like. If Li Jiawei's devoted to her, that's enough."
Well…
Han Qian didn't know how to judge Tu Kun's father. On the one hand, he was right about not fussing over class differences; on the other, he was spoiling his daughter far too much. Whenever Han Qian was troubled, he always craved a cigarette. Wen Nuan never commented, but he could tell she didn't like the smell. So he resisted the urge, frowning.
"Forty grand for my legs? I must be worth a lot. If you *were* going to do it, how would you go about it?"
Guan Junbiao took out a cigarette and offered it to Han Qian, but he gently declined. Guan Da Gou tucked the pack back away and spoke with a quiet smile.
"Run you over with a car, or grab you in some dark alley at night. But forty grand isn't enough to guarantee lifelong disability—no way."
"How much did Lin Zongheng pay you up front?"
"Ten grand as a deposit."
"You break my legs, I won't press charges. Split thirty grand with me."
The suggestion startled Guan Da Gou so much he nearly choked. A wry smile spread across his face.
"Brother… your photo's already sitting on my boss's desk. Even if you broke my legs, I wouldn't dare lay a finger on you. If you're short on cash, I can get you five grand, but that's all I can scrape together."
Han Qian shrugged and gave a crooked grin.
"Look at you—no ambition at all. I was just joking. When we have time, let's hit the boxing gym and loosen up a bit. You're not going to do it, so Lin Zongheng can't do anything about it, right?"
Guan Junbiao's face was full of disdain.
"What can he do? Come demand his money back? It's just extortion, plain and simple. If he wants to make a scene, go ahead and report us. If things blow up, one of our boys will do a short stint in prison, but Lin Zongheng's reputation? He can't afford that. Anyway, brother, I'd better be going—if I don't, the young lady will start complaining I'm too chatty. No need to leave me your number—I'll find you."
And with that, Guan Da Gou, clad in his flamboyant red suit and sporting a ponytail, jogged away.