The next morning, Zhiyuan's routine was a silent rebellion against the chaos of the night before. He woke at precisely 5:30 AM, exercised, and dressed in a suit of immaculate grey wool—a fresh armor. The mansion was quiet, a world of polished surfaces and order.
As he descended the grand staircase towards the main foyer, the quiet was broken by the sound of light, giggling laughter.
He turned the corner to find Chen Yichen leaning casually against the doorframe of the morning room. He was talking to two of the younger housemaids, Li Na and Xiao Wen, who were holding trays of fresh flowers for the vases.
"…and that's why you should never trust a street vendor with your watch," Yichen was saying, his voice warm and playful. "But your smile? That's the real treasure here."
The girls, barely out of their teens, were blushing a deep crimson, clutching their trays and giggling behind their hands. They were completely charmed.
Then, Li Na glanced up and saw Zhiyuan standing there, his expression unreadable. Her eyes went wide. "Young Master!" she squeaked. Both girls immediately bowed their heads, their giggles turning into nervous silence, and practically scurried away down the hall, their shoes clicking a rapid retreat.
Yichen watched them go with an amused smile, then turned to face Zhiyuan. His demeanor was infuriatingly casual. "Morning," he said, as if they were old friends. "Sleep well?"
Zhiyuan just looked at him for a long moment, then rolled his eyes. He didn't dignify the question with an answer. He simply walked past him towards the dining room, where his solitary breakfast was already laid out.
He ate in silence, the newspaper in front of him a blur of words. He could feel Yichen's presence lingering somewhere in the hall, a disruption in the mansion's usual calm.
Finished, Zhiyuan stood, collected his briefcase, and headed for the front door. His driver, Lao Chen, was already holding the door of the black sedan open.
As Zhiyuan moved to get in, a shadow fell beside him. Yichen was there.
"I'm coming with you," Yichen stated, not asking.
"No, you are not," Zhiyuan replied, his voice flat. He didn't break his stride.
"I am," Yichen said, and before Zhiyuan could protest further, the younger man had smoothly slipped past him and slid into the back seat of the car, making himself comfortable.
Zhiyuan stood frozen by the open door. "Get out of my car."
"Nainai would feel better if I went with you. After last night," Yichen said, looking up at him with those calm, challenging eyes. "It's just a ride. What are you afraid of?"
It was the wrong thing to say. Zhiyuan's jaw tightened. He wasn't afraid; he was irritated. Deeply, profoundly irritated. Arguing on the driveway was beneath him. With a curt, frustrated shake of his head, he got into the car, sitting as far from Yichen as the spacious interior would allow.
"Drive, Lao Chen," he commanded.
The ride to Liang Group International was silent and tense. Zhiyuan stared out the window, ignoring the man beside him who seemed perfectly content to watch the city go by.
When the car pulled into the underground executive garage, Zhiyuan was out almost before it stopped. He strode towards his private elevator, his shoes echoing in the concrete cavern.
He didn't get far. Yichen was right behind him, his longer legs easily keeping pace.
As they crossed the main lobby to reach the CEO's private wing, a noticeable ripple went through the space. Young female interns and junior assistants, who usually cast shy, admiring glances at the handsome CEO, were now staring openly at the man walking beside him. Yichen, in simple dark trousers and a fitted black sweater, looked completely out of place in the corporate sea of suits, yet he moved with a confident grace that drew every eye. Whispers and blushes followed them.
Zhiyuan felt a fresh wave of annoyance. This was a place of business, not a social club.
Reaching the sanctuary of his office's outer reception area, Zhiyuan stopped and finally turned to face Yichen.
"You," he said, pointing to one of the plush but impersonal guest chairs in the waiting area. "Wait. Here. I have meetings to attend. Do not move. Do not talk to my staff. Do not cause a scene."
Yichen looked at the chair, then back at Zhiyuan, a faint, unreadable smile on his lips. He gave a slow, deliberate nod. "As you wish, CEO Liang."
Zhiyuan didn't trust that smile for a second. He turned and disappeared into his office, shutting the heavy teak door firmly behind him, trying to shut out the disruptive, confusing presence of Chen Yichen. But the man was like a scent in the air, impossible to ignore.
The two-hour meeting with the heads of the Logistics Division was a grueling affair of numbers, projections, and thinly veiled resistance to his new automation plans. Zhiyuan maintained his icy focus throughout, but a part of his mind was annoyingly preoccupied with the question of what chaos was being wrought in his outer office.
When the meeting finally adjourned, he led the executives out, his expression unreadable. As he stepped into the hallway, his eyes immediately went to the waiting area.
Chen Yichen was there, right where he'd been told to wait. But he wasn't sitting meekly in the chair. He was standing casually by the large potted plant, looking perfectly at ease. As a group of young junior analysts—both women and men—passed by, heading to the break room, Yichen caught their eye. He didn't say a word, but he offered a slow, friendly wink and a slight, charming smile.
One of the women stumbled slightly, her files slipping. A young man quickly helped her pick them up, his own face flushing as he glanced back at Yichen. The group disappeared around the corner in a flurry of hushed, excited whispers.
Zhiyuan felt a vein throb in his temple. He didn't say a thing. He just shot Yichen a look that could freeze fire, turned on his heel, and strode towards his private office.
Yichen fell into step just behind him, a silent shadow. When they reached the magnificent teak door, Zhiyuan reached for the handle. But Yichen's hand was quicker. He smoothly reached past him, opened the door, and held it open, gesturing for Zhiyuan to enter first.
It was a gesture of service, but it felt like a challenge.
Zhiyuan walked in, dropped his briefing folder onto the desk with more force than necessary, and sat down in his high-backed leather chair. He steepled his fingers, his gaze fixed on Yichen, who closed the door and stood calmly before the desk, waiting.
"Alright," Zhiyuan said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Enough games. What do you actually want?"
Yichen didn't hesitate. His playful demeanor from the hallway was gone, replaced by a direct, serious focus. "I want to be your personal guard."
Zhiyuan let out a short, humorless laugh. "My personal guard. I have a security team. A very expensive one."
"You needed me last night," Yichen stated simply.
"That was a… unique situation. Why would I hire you? A man who flirts with my staff and who my housemaid claims is a relative one minute and a charity case the next?"
"I need a job," Yichen replied, shrugging.
"Then go find one," Zhiyuan said, losing patience. "There are hundreds of security firms in this city."
"I am applying for a job," Yichen said, meeting his gaze steadily. "Right now. This is my interview."
Zhiyuan stared at him, utterly speechless. The man's audacity was breathtaking. He leaned forward, rubbing his temples as if warding off a migraine. "You are not qualified. You have no references. You have no… paperwork." He glared up at him. "This interview is over."
At that moment, there was a soft knock on the door. Before Zhiyuan could answer, his assistant, Miss Zhang, a woman in her forties who was utterly unflappable, entered. She carried a single, thin manila folder.
"Sir, you asked for a background check on someone. This is the preliminary file from the agency," she said, placing it neatly on the desk in front of him. She gave a polite, professional nod to Yichen, who returned it with a small, respectful smile.
"Thank you, Miss Zhang. That will be all," Zhiyuan said, his eyes locked on the folder.
As Miss Zhang left, closing the door behind her, Zhiyuan didn't open the file immediately. He looked at Yichen, a new idea forming. "… get me some tea. Green tea. From the ceramic pot in the break room, not the machine."
It was a test. A petty one, meant to dismiss him as an errand boy.
Yichen didn't bristle. He simply nodded. "Of course." He turned and left the office, his movements silent and efficient.
The moment the door clicked shut, Zhiyuan snatched up the folder. He flipped it open, expecting to find nothing, or a history of petty offenses.
The first page was a standard information sheet. Name: Chen Yichen. Age: 24. It was sparse. But attached behind it were other documents certifications. They were scans, from international agencies he recognized. Advanced Close Protection. Defensive Driving. Emergency Medical Response. Crisis Management.
His frown deepened. These were not the papers of a street thug or a charming drifter. These were the qualifications of a highly trained professional. The kind his expensive security team aspired to be.
As he stared at a certification from a famously rigorous security academy, the office door opened again. Yichen returned. He carried a simple white porcelain cup and saucer. He walked to the desk and set it down gently, perfectly centered on a leather coaster.
The tea steamed, perfectly brewed. The cup was placed without a sound.
Yichen then took a step back, resuming his position in front of the desk, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. He said nothing, but his eyes briefly flicked to the open folder in Zhiyuan's hands, and then back to his face.
He had seen what Zhiyuan was reading. And he had known exactly what was in that file.
Zhiyuan stared at the certificates, then back at the man standing calmly before him. This didn't make sense. A trained professional, acting like a playful flirt, showing up out of nowhere claiming to be Meilin's grandson?
He decided to test him. To poke holes in his story until he cracked or gave up.
He closed the folder slowly and leaned back in his chair, his gaze sharp. "You are impressive, Mr. Chen. For a man who needs a job."
"Thank you," Yichen replied simply.
"Where did you get this training? It's not from any local institute."
"I studied abroad," Yichen said. "For several years."
"Studied? Or were you employed?" Zhiyuan pressed.
"Both. Training is ongoing in my line of work."
"What line of work is that, exactly? Professional tea-maker and charmer of office staff?"
Yichen's lips twitched, almost a smile. "Executive Protection. Personal Security. The tea is a bonus service."
Zhiyuan moved on, trying a different angle. "You say Meilin raised you. Yet she never mentioned you, not once in twenty-nine years. Why is that?"
"She believed it was safer for me to be... disconnected. From the Liang family spotlight," Yichen answered, his tone even. "She wanted a normal life for me."
"A normal life? Leading to high-level security certifications? That's not normal."
"It is if Nainai is worried about the people she loves," Yichen said, his eyes holding Zhiyuan's. "She taught me to be useful. To protect."
Zhiyuan felt a slight pang at the mention of Meilin's love, but he pushed it aside. "Why come back now? Why suddenly appear and demand a job with me?"
"You were almost killed last night," Yichen stated, the casual tone gone. "The threat is active. Nainai is worried sick. I am here. I am qualified. It is the logical solution."
"Logical?" Zhiyuan scoffed. "You think I'll just hire a stranger because my maid is worried?"
"I am not a stranger to her. And I won't be a stranger to you for long."
Zhiyuan tried to trip him up with specifics. "Fine. Scenario. We're in the car. A vehicle attempts to force us off the road on the elevated highway. What is your first action?"
"Assess intent: accidental or hostile. My first action is to command the driver 'Evasive maneuvers, hold the center' while placing myself between you and the point of impact. I secure your posture, then assess exit routes if we are stopped."
Zhiyuan blinked. It was a cold, precise, and correct answer. "And if there's a fire in a building? Like last night?"
"Immediate threat assessment. Fire, smoke, structural collapse. Locate primary and secondary exits. If exits are compromised, locate a defensible position with an external wall or window for potential extraction. Prioritize the principal's breathing low to the ground. Never use elevators."
He answered without a single pause or stumble.
"Why should I trust you?" Zhiyuan asked, his final, most important question. "You could be working for anyone. For the people who caused that 'accident' last night."
For the first time, Yichen didn't answer immediately. He looked directly at Zhiyuan, his amber eyes utterly serious. "If I wanted to harm you, CEO Liang, you would not be sitting here drinking that tea."
The quiet certainty in his voice was more chilling than any boast would have been.
Zhiyuan was silent. He had tried to embarrass him, to confuse him, to find a flaw in his answers. He had found none. The man was an enigma, but a highly competent one.
He looked down at the steaming cup of tea, then back at the unshakable man before him.
"You're hired," he heard himself say, the words surprising even him. "On a trial basis. One week. You report only to me. You cause no disruption. And you will tell me the real story about you and Meilin. Soon."
A slow, genuine smile spread across Yichen's face, different from his earlier playful smirks. It was a smile of satisfaction. "Understood, boss."
"Don't call me that," Zhiyuan muttered, opening his laptop, trying to reclaim the normalcy of his workday. But he knew, as he felt Yichen move to take a post by the office door, that nothing about his life was normal anymore.
Zhiyuan tried to focus on the quarterly financial report glowing on his computer screen. The numbers were clear, the projections solid. It should have been a sanctuary of logic. But the sanctuary had an intruder.
From his post by the door, Yichen, now officially his "trial bodyguard," was a statue of perfect vigilance for all of five minutes. Then, the silence started to itch.
Zhiyuan heard a soft, thoughtful hum. He ignored it.
"Sir," Yichen said, his voice conversational.
Zhiyuan didn't look up. "Mmm."
"Too formal," Yichen mused to himself, as if Zhiyuan wasn't there. "CEO Liang. Also formal. Young Master." He said the last one with a faint, teasing lilt, imitating the house staff.
Zhiyuan's jaw tightened. He kept typing.
"Boss is good," Yichen continued, pacing a slow, quiet line along the window. "Simple. Direct. But you said no." He sighed dramatically. "What about... Lao Ban?" (Big Boss)
"Be quiet," Zhiyuan said, not lifting his eyes from the screen.
"Right, right, you're working. Sorry, Zhang," Yichen said, using a generic term for 'chief.'
Zhiyuan's fingers paused over the keyboard.
"How about... Tou?" Yichen tried, using slang for 'leader' or 'head.' "Nah, sounds like a gangster movie."
"Chen Yichen," Zhiyuan warned, his voice low.
"Just trying to find the right professional address!" Yichen said, sounding innocent. "You are a very particular principal. Zhu Ren?" (Master)
"That is what the dog walker calls his client," Zhiyuan snapped, finally looking up, his composure fraying.
Yichen grinned, enjoying the reaction. "See? You have opinions! Okay, not Zhu Ren. Hmm... Xiansheng?" (Mister)
"You are fired. The trial is over. Get out," Zhiyuan said, pointing at the door, only half-joking.
Yichen held up his hands in surrender, but the grin didn't fade. "Okay, okay! No more names. I'll just stand here... silently... protecting you from the terrifying threat of... bad spreadsheet formulas."
He resumed his post by the door, falling into a picture-perfect guard stance. But after a minute of blessed silence, he spoke again, his voice a stage whisper.
"...Bao Bei?" (Treasure)
Zhiyuan slammed his hand down on the desk. "OUT!"
Yichen chuckled, a warm, rich sound that filled the large office. "Sorry, sorry. Couldn't resist. I'll be good. I promise." He winked. "Boss."
Zhiyuan took a deep, steadying breath. He had faced down hostile corporate raiders and billion-dollar negotiations with less effort than it took to handle one annoying, inexplicably charming bodyguard. He turned back to his screen, but the columns of numbers seemed to dance mockingly. The only clear thought in his head was that it was going to be a very, very long week.
The evening was supposed to be a calm, formal affair a dinner at an exclusive French restaurant with Xiao Xue and her parents to "reassure them" after the banquet fire. It felt less like a meal and more like an inspection.
Yichen stood a discreet distance from their private table, a silent, watchful shadow in a dark suit that somehow fit him perfectly. Zhiyuan could feel his focus, a constant, low hum of alertness that was different from his playful office behavior.
Throughout the appetizers, Mr. Li held court. "Security must be reviewed, Zhiyuan! We cannot have our future son-in-law in such danger!" Mrs. Li clucked her tongue in agreement, while Xiao Xue just pushed her food around her plate, looking between her parents and Zhiyuan with anxious eyes.
Zhiyuan gave polite, non-committal answers. "The authorities are investigating. It was a gas leak. A terrible accident."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yichen's posture shift almost imperceptibly. His gaze was fixed on the entrance to the kitchen, then flickered to a waiter who seemed to be taking too much interest in the water glasses at the next table.
Suddenly, Yichen stepped forward. He leaned down beside Zhiyuan's chair, his voice low and urgent, but loud enough for the table to hear.
"Sir, I just got a text from Lao Chen. There's a major charity event letting out a few blocks away. The traffic will be gridlocked in less than fifteen minutes. If we want to avoid being stuck for an hour, we need to leave. Now."
Zhiyuan's mind raced. Lao Chen's number? We just met. He doesn't have it. This wasn't about traffic. This was a code.
Before he could respond, Mr. Li frowned, his voice booming. "What's this? The driver is texting the bodyguard? Can't we finish our dessert? This is a very old Bordeaux!"
Yichen straightened up, his face polite but his eyes hard. "My apologies, sir. But the traffic will be impossible."
Zhiyuan made a decision. He stood up, placing his napkin on the table. "Mr. Li, Madam Li, please forgive the rudeness. But being stuck in traffic after the week I've had is… unwise. I should head home. Xiao Xue, I'll call you tomorrow."
Xiao Xue looked disappointed but nodded. "Of course. Be safe."
Mrs. Li huffed but said nothing. Mr. Li just waved a dismissive hand, already pouring himself more wine.
"Thank you for the lovely dinner," Zhiyuan said with a final nod. He turned and began walking towards the exit, Yichen falling into step directly behind him, so close Zhiyuan could feel his presence like a shield.
"Don't look back," Yichen murmured, his voice barely a breath. "Just keep walking. Straight to the car. Fast, but don't run."
They moved through the plush, dimly lit restaurant, past other diners lost in their own conversations. The exit to the private underground garage was just ahead.
As they pushed through the heavy door into the concrete silence of the garage, a figure hurried after them. It was one of the waiters, a young man with a tense smile.
"Excuse me! Sir! Sir, please!" he called out, looking at Yichen.
Yichen stopped, putting himself slightly in front of Zhiyuan. "What is it?"
"Oh, thank goodness! My colleague is bringing up the reserve wine from the cellar, but the crate is too heavy. Could you please help us for just a moment? It will only take a second!" The waiter's smile was too wide, his eyes darting past Yichen towards Zhiyuan.
Yichen didn't move. "Call the restaurant manager."
"It's just right there, in the service elevator! Please, he's struggling!" The waiter reached out as if to pull on Yichen's arm.
In a flash, Yichen's hand shot out. He didn't pull away. He grabbed the waiter's reaching wrist and twisted it sharply, pulling the man off-balance.
The waiter's friendly facade shattered. He yelped in pain.
Suddenly, two more men in waiter uniforms burst from behind a concrete pillar. They moved not like restaurant staff, but with the swift, balanced gait of fighters. The pretense was over.
One lunged at Zhiyuan, a short, sharp blade glinting in his hand. "Get down!" Yichen barked, shoving the first waiter into the path of the second attacker.
The third man with the knife closed in on Zhiyuan. Before the blade could arc down, Yichen spun and delivered a vicious side kick to the man's ribs. There was a sickening crack, and the attacker crumpled with a grunt, the knife skittering across the concrete.
"Zhiyuan! The car! NOW!" Yichen yelled, his voice full of a command that brooked no argument. He was now a whirlwind of motion, blocking a punch from the second waiter, striking back with brutal efficiency.
Lao Chen, who had been waiting in the idling car, saw the fight. He threw the door open. "Young Master! Hurry!"
Zhiyuan didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted the last few feet and dove into the back seat. Lao Chen scrambled into the driver's seat, his hands shaking as he fumbled for his phone. "I'm calling the police!"
From the car window, Zhiyuan watched, heart pounding. Yichen disarmed the second man with a wrench of his arm, sending a small metal pipe clattering away. The first waiter, still clutching his wrist, tried to tackle Yichen from behind. Yichen dropped his weight, threw the man over his shoulder, and slammed him onto the hood of a nearby car with a deafening crash.
Seeing their companions down, the remaining attacker hesitated. Yichen took one menacing step forward, and the man turned and fled into the dark recesses of the garage.
Yichen didn't chase him. He turned and ran straight for the car, yanking the door open and sliding in beside a breathless Zhiyuan.
"Go! Don't wait for the police! Go!" he ordered Lao Chen.
The car screeched out of the garage, leaving the scene of the brief, violent ambush behind. In the backseat, Zhiyuan stared at Yichen, who was checking his knuckles, his breathing only slightly elevated.
"You were right," Zhiyuan finally said, his own voice unsteady.
Yichen met his gaze, all traces of the playful flirt gone. "They weren't after your wallet, boss. They were waiting for you."