Chapter 47: Absolutely Cannot Let Him Lead Me by the Nose Again!!
“Don’t you already know what I’m like, Young Master Jiang? I thought you’d be used to it after all these times. Get in, the files are in the car.”
Only then did Jiang Qing leisurely walk over and pull open the door. The thick scent of flowers almost overwhelmed him. He sat in the passenger seat without a change in expression, casually tossing the space-consuming bouquet of champagne roses to the back seat, where they landed precisely on top of some irises.
Qin Zhiyan floored the gas pedal, and the car pulled away smoothly under the continued gaze of the onlookers.
Inside the car, Qin Zhiyan appeared focused on driving, but his peripheral vision was locked onto Jiang Qing.
“Eyes on the road,” Jiang Qing said without looking up.
Qin Zhiyan gave a soft huff and retracted his gaze.
The car eventually stopped outside a discreet members-only cafe. Qin Zhiyan stepped out first, walked around to the passenger side, and pulled the door open with a gentlemanly flourish.
Jiang Qing finally stepped out at a leisurely pace. The two of them walked to a booth in the innermost part of the cafe. Qin Zhiyan pushed an encrypted USB drive across the table to Jiang Qing.
“Su Lin is more interesting than you think. He’s no simple ‘fledgling returning to the nest’.”
Jiang Qing toyed with the USB drive. “Get to the point.”
“He was previously a bartender at a club in B-City and only came to A-City last week. And guess what? The first bar he went to was ‘Yunye,’ and on his second night working there, he ‘happened’ to run into you.”
“And his stint as a bartender in B-City wasn’t simple either.”
Qin Zhiyan leaned forward.
“The bar was called ‘The Mystery.’ On the surface, it’s a members-only lounge, but in reality, it’s an underground information exchange hub with an incredibly high barrier to entry. Su Lin worked there for two years, rising from a regular bartender to the head bartender. The drinks he mixed were less expensive than the information that flowed through his hands.”
He paused, observing Jiang Qing’s reaction.
“More importantly, the power behind ‘The Mystery’ is the Zhou family of B-City. Old Man Zhou is notoriously picky; anyone he allows into the core of his territory is no ordinary person. Su Lin didn’t just get in—he thrived there.”
Jiang Qing’s fingers stopped moving the USB drive. The Zhou family… they were a local power that even the Jiang family had to show some respect to.
“What kind of people did he interact with at ‘The Mystery’?” Jiang Qing asked.
“All sorts from every walk of life,” Qin Zhiyan leaned back in his chair. “Reformed gang bosses, capital market manipulators, and brokers who specialize in trading secrets and privacy. Moreover, according to my sources, Su Lin had a nickname at ‘The Mystery’.”
“What was it?”
“‘Little Guanyin’.” Qin Zhiyan curled his lip. “They say when he mixes drinks with his eyes lowered, he looks as merciful as a Bodhisattva. But for anyone who came to him—no matter how difficult the intel or how hot the trouble—he always found a way to ‘deliver’ them through it. Of course, the price was never cheap.”
A merciful Guanyin? Delivering people?
Jiang Qing recalled the way Su Lin looked in front of him—the submissive, well-behaved, and occasionally dependent gaze.
“The drinks he mixed were sometimes covers, sometimes signals. Under the coasters, or even the water marks on the glass after the ice melted… they could all be carriers of information. He doesn’t talk much, but his ears and eyes are never idle. He can precisely judge which ‘drunken words’ are valuable and which ‘casual chats’ are probes, then silently ‘deliver’ what needs to be sent to the right recipient.”
“He ‘delivers’ people like that and the Zhou family didn’t care? They even let him be the head bartender?”
“That’s the most interesting part.”
“The Zhou family didn’t just ignore it; they seemed to indulge him. There were several times when other factions tried to move against Su Lin, and the Zhou family stepped in to settle it. There are even rumors that Old Man Zhou admired him so much he thought about adopting him as a grandson, but Su Lin declined.”
Refusing the Zhou family’s olive branch only to come to A-City and “happen” to meet him, then being recognized as a lost family member a few days later?
The number of coincidences was enough to make one’s skin crawl.
“The reason he left B-City for A-City?” Jiang Qing asked.
“The official reason was to seek better opportunities. But according to scraps of info from ‘The Mystery’,” Qin Zhiyan said word by word, “it seems he was looking for someone, or rather, trying to confirm something.”
Jiang Qing took a sip of his coffee; it was so bitter he frowned slightly. He looked at Qin Zhiyan. “Being in the dark is the real trouble. Now that he’s stepped into the light, isn’t that for the best?”
Qin Zhiyan let out a low laugh.
Indeed, that was the Jiang Qing he knew.
Qin Zhiyan pushed another thin stack of printed materials over. They were blurry surveillance screenshots, time-stamped a week before Su Lin arrived in A-City.
Jiang Qing looked at the photos. Su Lin was always alone, wearing nondescript casual clothes, a hat, and a mask.
This wasn’t a whim; he came prepared with a clear target.
“Thanks.” Jiang Qing tucked the USB and the files away and stood up. “The payment will be sent to your account as usual.”
Qin Zhiyan relaxed, tapping his fingers on the table. “Forget the money. Do I, Qin Zhiyan, look like I’m lacking money?”
Jiang Qing set down his cup with a half-smile. “Well, since Young Master Qin has hinted this far, it would indeed be ungrateful of me not to show some appreciation.”
He thought for a moment, then suddenly crooked his finger toward him.
Qin Zhiyan raised an eyebrow and leaned in.
Jiang Qing leaned over the table, getting close…
And softly blew a puff of air against the side of his ear.
Qin Zhiyan froze instantly. That warm breath brushed against his sensitive ear, sending a tiny but distinct shiver down his spine all the way to his tailbone.
His ear turned a vivid red at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the flush threatened to spread down his neck.
Jiang Qing had already pulled back, looking at him with satisfaction at his rare look of disarray.
“Is that enough ‘appreciation,’ Young Master Qin? If the info you give me next time is a bit better, maybe I won’t stop at just this. Perhaps I could…”
Soothing jazz music flowed through the cafe, and whispers drifted from the neighboring booths.
A few seconds later, Jiang Qing was the first to break the delicate standoff. “Alright, I’m done teasing you.” He stood up, draped his jacket over his arm, and said, “I’m taking the files. Thanks.”
He turned and left, clean and decisive.
Qin Zhiyan was still dazed, subconsciously touching his earlobe.
A few seconds later, he snapped out of it.
Damn it!!
Teased again!!!!
Every single time he gets teased like this and then the guy doesn’t take responsibility!!!!
Qin Zhiyan couldn’t count how many times he had gone to the Jiang residence, how many truckloads of roses he had brought, or how many times he had recited twenty-page-long confessions, only to be blocked by Jiang Qing in various ways.
Either the windows stayed shut and the butler was sent down to politely see him off.
Or a window would open to reveal a half-asleep face saying lazily: “Young Master Qin, disturbing one’s dreams is a capital offense.”
The most excessive time, Jiang Qing actually stood on the balcony, listening to his heartfelt confession while slowly eating tiramisu, only to comment at the end: “The writing isn’t bad. Don’t write it next time; it affects my appetite.”
The more Qin Zhiyan thought about it, the angrier he got. He felt like a sentimental, repeatedly defeated fool.
He stood up abruptly, his chair legs screeching against the floor and drawing looks from the other patrons. He ignored them, grabbed his car keys, and rushed out.
Only when he reached the door did he remember—Jiang Qing had long since left!
He ruffled his hair in frustration and sat back in his car, looking at the empty passenger seat and the lonely empty milk tea cup beside it.
“Jiang Qing…” Qin Zhiyan muttered the name, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.
But a second later, he deflated like a popped balloon, leaning his forehead against the cold steering wheel.
Damn.
He, Qin Zhiyan, had the money, the looks, and everything else—what exactly did Jiang Qing find lacking in him???
He pulled out his phone and opened his gallery. Inside was an encrypted folder; after entering the password, it was filled with photos of Jiang Qing.
There were candid side profiles, shots captured from across the room at banquets, and a few photos of Jiang Qing at home in casual clothes.
He had looked at every single one countless times.
“Liar,” Qin Zhiyan cursed softly, yet his finger carefully traced the face on the screen.
And yet, it was this very person who had made him sink so deep he couldn’t pull himself out.
He took a deep breath and restarted the car.
No.
He couldn’t let him lead him by the nose every time.
He had to find a way to win a round.
At least… he couldn’t let him slip away so easily anymore.
Next time…
He must make him stay until the entire confession is finished.
[Author’s Note: Regarding some issues—I already tagged the story as a harem (all-in). Can we please read the warnings carefully? I tried to be as detailed as possible so no one gets blindsided, but some of you just skip past them and then complain later. Don’t make things difficult for me, okay? Sometimes I get so frustrated I type out a long reply only for the platform to swallow it… so from now on, I won’t be replying to similar comments. Also, the synopsis clearly says ‘All In’ and ‘Bottom MC.’ It’s not a ‘choose your fighter’ novel. Please don’t overthink the details of the rich lifestyle; I’m just a regular person. Most of the cooking is done by the housekeeper, I just don’t mention it every time. Jiang Limu doesn’t cook every single meal, but he’s happy to do it for Jiang Qing. Jiang Qing enjoys bossing him around, and only Limu’s cooking perfectly hits his taste buds. As for Song Lingchen’s attempt, he was just being extra.]
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