Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Strange Gathering

Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Strange Gathering

This time, a man and a woman entered.

Both appeared quite young, yet their appearances were... rather unconventional. The man was particularly imposing—standing at least one hundred and ninety centimeters, his cropped hair, broad shoulders, and robust, muscular build made him look like a bodybuilder. He wore a tight, short-sleeved T-shirt, revealing well-defined arms, and his face, with its chiseled features, was the very image of the tough guy so often seen in films.

Such a man, one would expect, should have a booming voice, a hearty disposition, and a resolute character. Yet to Chen Xiao’s astonishment, this “tough guy” actually sauntered in, sashaying with a pronounced sway of his hips.

Yes—he sashayed.

Imagine the way female models strut down a catwalk, swaying their waists, walking with feline grace. Now, if you saw a brawny man over one hundred ninety centimeters tall, fingers delicately poised, hips swaying, mincing along like that—it would send shivers down anyone’s spine.

But then Chen Xiao looked at the woman following behind, and was rendered completely speechless.

The woman was, in fact, stunningly beautiful, with an oval face, almond-shaped eyes, and bewitchingly delicate features—a true beauty by any standard, if one were to judge by her face alone. Her attire, however, was another matter.

She wore a tight, cropped leather jacket, and a leather cap with a visor atop her head. Several gleaming metal chains hung from her jacket, and her arms were covered in tattoos—not the usual hearts, roses, or butterflies common among girls, but rather, a green dragon on her left arm and a white tiger on her right.

She wore knee-high leather boots with slender heels, each heel adorned with a shiny metal gear, which clinked against the floor with every step.

Her demeanor was fierce, her expression fiery, and her every gesture radiated a tempestuous energy. Despite her alluring beauty, her outfit was that of a biker—a wild, rebellious spirit.

The burly man had just taken a few steps inside when the biker woman let out a cold snort. The man seemed to shudder, immediately stepping back, lowering his gaze, and trailing half a step behind her, adopting a submissive, almost clingy posture.

Chen Xiao’s eyes were wide with disbelief, and he couldn’t help but sigh.

“It’s you two.” Uncle Tian had already stood up, nodding at the newcomers as if he knew them well.

The biker woman shot him a glare. “Oh, so you got here first.”

Then she turned her gaze to Chen Xiao, sizing him up for a moment before breaking into a broad, flirtatious smile. Her voice was sultry, yet carried the predatory air of a female wolf. “Well, well, this new little brother is quite the handsome one! Old Edward’s found himself a fine helper.”

With that, she completely ignored the tough man at her side, her boot heels tapping crisply on the floor as she strode up to Chen Xiao. He watched, mouth agape, as she reached out and gently tapped the tip of his nose with a finger, grinning. “Such a pure and pretty boy. Tell me, darling—how old are you? Still a virgin?”

Chen Xiao felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He stumbled back a couple of steps, face flushing, at a loss for words. It was true that he’d been ogled by plenty of girls while working in the fast-food joint, but he’d never encountered a woman so brazen in her advances!

The burly man behind her looked somewhat disgruntled, and couldn’t help but cough. The woman immediately spun around and glowered at him. “What are you coughing for? Got a sore throat? Jealous that I’m checking out a handsome guy, aren’t you?!”

The man’s face was full of grievance, and he forced a nervous smile. “No, not at all. Please, go right ahead.”

Uncle Tian, watching from the side, couldn’t help but chuckle. Finally, he stepped in to rescue Chen Xiao. “Alright, Chen Xiao, don’t be nervous. They’re friends of ours—the owners of the other two shops on this street. They’re husband and wife.”

Husband and wife?

Chen Xiao could only manage a wry smile.

“My name’s Wang Xiaorou, handsome,” the biker woman said, winking at him. “And that’s my useless husband, Fang Dameng.” She looked as though she wanted nothing more than to pinch Chen Xiao’s cheeks.

Chen Xiao swallowed hard... Xiaorou? Dameng? The names were certainly distinctive! Yet there was nothing “gentle” about the woman, nor anything particularly “fierce” about her timid husband.

Uncle Tian cleared his throat. “Alright, stop bullying Chen Xiao. He’s new here—don’t scare him off.”

Wang Xiaorou, looking somewhat sheepish, withdrew her finger but shot her husband another glare before striding into the shop and choosing a seat near Uncle Tian. Her husband quickly followed.

The biker woman produced a silver metal cigarette case, drew out a cigarette, and had barely placed it between her lips when Fang Dameng hurriedly fumbled for a lighter.

“I can light my own cigarette!” she snapped, raising her right hand and snapping her fingers. Instantly, a small flame danced across her fingertips.

Chen Xiao watched with dawning realization—another one with special powers.

Uncle Tian caught the look of confusion in Chen Xiao’s eyes, and offered a gentle, matter-of-fact explanation. “Xiaorou’s ability is fire control—her nickname is Zhu Rong. Dameng, on the other hand, controls water—his nickname is Gong Gong.”

Zhu Rong and Gong Gong?

So—the fire god and water god of ancient Chinese myth.

This couple, it seemed, were truly “as incompatible as fire and water.”

Uncle Tian smiled, giving Chen Xiao a reassuring look. “They’re good people. You’ll get used to them. No need to use their real names—just call them Zhu Rong and Gong Gong.”

Zhu Rong laughed heartily, took a drag of her cigarette, blew a perfect smoke ring, and winked at Chen Xiao. “Little brother, I heard you’d be coming a few days ago, but I’ve been too busy to stop by. That cigar shop up ahead is mine—come visit anytime.”

Chen Xiao nodded quickly, and Gong Gong smiled gently—almost timidly. “The wine shop up ahead is mine.”

Chen Xiao nodded again.

So, on this commercial pedestrian street, there were only a handful of shops: at one end, Uncle Tian’s auto repair shop, then a wine shop and a cigar shop—whose owners were now present. The coffee shop belonged to old Edward.

It seemed... all these people were members of the “Service Society.”

But weren’t these supposed to be retired members? Edward and Uncle Tian were both elderly, but this odd couple looked quite young.

Chen Xiao gathered himself, bowed to the three guests, and said with a smile, “Esteemed seniors, I’m new here; I hope you’ll look after me. I’m helping manage this shop and don’t know all the rules yet. If I make any mistakes, please guide me.”

Zhu Rong grinned, snapping her fingers. “See how polite this young man is? Unlike my useless husband, who can’t squeeze out three words even with a stick.”

Chen Xiao hesitated before saying, “Old Mr. Edward instructed me to keep the shop open on Thursday nights. Is tonight some kind of gathering for the shop owners?”

After a pause, he added, “I recall there’s another shop on this street—a watch shop, I think. I’ve passed by a few times, but it’s always closed. I’ve never seen it open... Is the owner of the watch shop also part of the organization?”

As soon as he finished, he noticed all three people’s expressions change.

Uncle Tian looked somewhat bitter, Zhu Rong appeared annoyed, and Gong Gong looked helpless.

What was this? At the mention of the watch shop owner, all three seemed to grow somber and resentful.

“Chen Xiao...” It was Uncle Tian who spoke at last, his tone gentle, “This is something you’d best not ask about. They’re unpleasant memories—no one wants to talk about it.”

Bang!

Before he finished, Zhu Rong slammed her palm onto the table. A burst of flame leapt from her hand, scorching the table beneath her.

“Talk about it? Why not? It’s not as if we’re the ones in the wrong!” Zhu Rong’s eyes burned fiercely as she growled, “Young man, you’ll never meet the owner of the watch shop! That wretch—a traitor! She disappeared years ago! If I ever run into her, I’ll burn her to ashes!”

Startled by her fury, Chen Xiao glanced nervously at the scorched table, already resigned to the fact that it would need replacing tonight.

Such deep resentment!

She said “traitor”—was there really a traitor in the Service Society?

Gong Gong hesitated, speaking in a low, uncertain voice. “Actually, it’s not certain that she really—”

“Nonsense!” Zhu Rong exploded, fire flaring all over her body. The sofa beneath her burst into flames, making Chen Xiao leap to his feet in alarm, grabbing a cold water jug to douse the fire.

But Zhu Rong merely gave a cold snort, and the flames instantly receded back into her body. The sofa was left charred and ruined, but the fire was out.

She glared fiercely at her husband. “Still thinking about that little wretch, are you? I knew all along you had feelings for her! Why didn’t you just run off with her and leave me, huh? Why didn’t you?!”

Gong Gong backed away under her glare until he tumbled onto the floor, protesting pitifully, “I never did! You’re the only one in my heart, I swear!”

Chen Xiao, still clutching the water jug, was at a loss—unsure whether to advance or retreat—when Uncle Tian finally stepped over, patted him on the shoulder, and said kindly, “You’ll get used to it—this couple’s always like that. I’ve seen it all before. In time, you’ll hardly notice.”

Then he shot Zhu Rong a stern look, his tone taking on an air of authority. “Zhu Rong, enough. This is Old Edward’s place—if you break anything, be prepared to compensate him.”

“Hmph! As if I’m afraid of that old geezer.” Zhu Rong retorted, but obediently sat down, then snapped at her husband, “Get up! Don’t just sit there on the floor!”

Chen Xiao could only smile wryly, glancing at the tattered sofa and lamenting the cleaning-up he’d have to do later.

At that moment, sounds came from outside.

Through the glass, several sleek black cars could be seen pulling up to the entrance. The doors opened with a series of thuds, and a group of men in black suits stepped out, scanning their surroundings with wary, bodyguard-like vigilance.

Then, flanked by these men, a middle-aged man of some authority approached the door. The bodyguards remained outside, not daring to enter, while the man himself stepped in.

Though he carried the aura of someone accustomed to giving orders, upon entering he immediately lowered his head, put on a polite smile, and asked in a deferential tone:

“Excuse me, may I submit a commission now?”