My Weak Lover Became A Weird Boss - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Wen Zhu’s Phone: Worry About Yourself

“So, after escaping from ‘Paradise Lost,’ you ended up in Linjing by accident and started working at a factory in the suburbs?”

“Yes… but I never expected him to find me even here!” Xie Ci raised his head, looking utterly soul-crushed. “I resigned over six months ago. I only went back to the factory last week to pick up some things. Just as I stepped out of the gate, the factory exploded! I recognized that fire… everyone who tries to escape ‘Paradise Lost’ is consumed by those hellish flames…”

Xie Ci’s mental state was fragile. He repeated himself constantly, and his descriptions felt like things someone had deliberately indoctrinated him with rather than his own subjective experiences. Liao Xin had someone take him away to rest under protection.

“Boss, we’ve been on the front lines for so long; how have we never heard of a place called ‘Paradise Lost’?”

“We only have clearance for the front-line battlefields. What about the residential areas behind the lines that are supposedly ‘safe’?”

Liao Xin felt a jolt of shock. “Are you saying…”

Pei Qingshan massaged his aching temples. “Don’t jump to conclusions yet. We can’t fully trust everything out of Xie Ci’s mouth either.”

How did he escape “Paradise Lost”? How did he cross the wartime defense lines? And if he had been resigned for six months, how was he targeted exactly on the day he returned to the factory?

However, if such a place truly existed among the dozens of war zones under the United Nations, the priority was to find exactly where “Paradise Lost” was hidden.

“By the way, I sent someone to take my ‘sister-in-law’ home just now,” Liao Xin’s expression became extremely strange. “Halfway there, he called to say he lost him. Should we keep looking?”

“No need.”

Liao Xin looked relieved. “Man, I’m glad this had nothing to do with him. You should have seen your face earlier—you looked like you’d head straight to HQ and kick Commissioner Quan’s head like a soccer ball if Tang San had actually charged him.”

“Boss? Boss… what are you thinking about?”

Pei Qingshan looked up. “Nothing. Keep a close eye on Xie Ci. Report any developments immediately.”

The jagged sun sank heavily behind the mountains, and the scattered lights of the city skyscrapers flickered like a silken galaxy draped over the night.

In Pei’s apartment, the ashtray on the balcony had grown into a small mountain. His phone sat face-down on the table, the screen displaying chat logs from a short while ago.

Without concrete evidence, not even Quan Qi himself could have taken someone away from Pei Qingshan. The reason Pei had actually let Tang San take Wen Zhu earlier was because of a message he received from Li Weiguang.

Li said that they had recovered about half the data from the shattered phone chip. Among the photos left on the device found near the scene was a faculty ID card from Linjing University’s College of Life Sciences and Agriculture.

There was no doubt: that phone belonged to Wen Zhu.

This meant that on the day Zhou Sui encountered that amphibious Abnormality in the suburbs, Wen Zhu was at the scene.

No wonder when he returned that night, there was an indescribable aura about him.

The late-night return, the bite mark on his collarbone, the unfamiliar coat, the faint scent of blood…

Pei Qingshan never believed in coincidences.

“Why have you smoked so much?” Wen Zhu opened the door, met by a pungent wall of tobacco. He knit his brows slightly.

“You’re back?” Pei Qingshan crushed out his cigarette and lingered on the balcony to let the smoke dissipate before coming inside. “How was it?”

“Nothing happened. Didn’t I message you to say I was safe?” Wen Zhu put the groceries in the fridge. “I stopped by the school to print some things.”

The direction you were ‘lost’ in wasn’t the road to the school.

Pei Qingshan gave a non-committal “mm” and asked casually, “I remember you lost a phone a while back, didn’t you?”

“Did I? I think so. It was old; it was time for a replacement anyway.”

“Where did you lose it? Near Lin-Da?”

Wen Zhu straightened up and looked at him. “I forgot. Why?”

“Nothing. We caught a few bike thieves stealing phones lately. Just be careful.” Facing those dark eyes, Pei Qingshan was the first to look away.

“Okay.” Wen Zhu took out some thawed meat. “What about you? Didn’t go to work?”

“On leave.”

Wen Zhu suddenly remembered something. “When I went to the station today to assist with the investigation, I think I saw the colleague who went on that mission with you.”

Pei Qingshan’s gaze stiffened, though his tone remained unchanged. “Really? I’m not very close with them.”

“I haven’t said which one yet,” Wen Zhu said softly.

“I’m not close with any of them.”

“I see.”

The sharp kitchen knife slid through the soft meat, cold light twisting like a needle along the blade’s edge. Wen Zhu’s movements while cutting meat were incredibly skillful—almost artistic.

Anyone who cooks knows that semi-thawed meat is the hardest to cut; it’s springy and slippery, resisting the blade. But in Wen Zhu’s hands, it was like fragile tofu—precise and clean.

It was a night where both men had their own hidden thoughts, and the moon was exceptionally round.

Ring—!

The bell for the final class rang, and Wen Zhu packed his things to head to his office as usual.

“Hey, Professor Wen!” A familiar teacher stopped him—the same one he’d gone to dinner with. She looked nervous. “I heard something happened to that student from the PE department?”

“Which student?” Wen Zhu expertly donned a look of academic ignorance. “What happened?”

“Oh my! How could you not know? It’s Zhou Sui,” she whispered, shivering. “He’s dead!”

“Really?”

Wen Zhu looked shocked on the surface, but inwardly he remained calm. That remains to be seen.

“I also heard… it wasn’t a person who killed him.”

“Suicide?”

“No! They say it was one of those things…” The teacher lowered her voice mysteriously. “One of our colleagues in the department was secretly involved in an experimental group. I bet the higher-ups are already conducting specialized research on those things!”

“Secretly involved?” Wen Zhu caught the keyword. “How do you know that?”

“The rumors are all over the college. Lab B01 is being cleared out.” The teacher was still a bit dazed by the news, but her scientific passion outweighed her fear. “Hey, Professor Wen, are you going to join the research group?”

“To dissect and study those things?” Wen Zhu looked weary and uninterested. “I’ll pass. I’m a bit of a coward.”

“That’s a shame.”

As Wen Zhu walked past Lab B01, he happened to see a large group moving in new research equipment, escorted by a dozen soldiers in uniform.

A familiar figure was talking to the Dean with his head down. He caught Wen Zhu’s gaze, froze for a second, and then greeted him naturally: “Professor Wen, what a coincidence.”

Wen Zhu walked over and nodded to Tang San. “This is…?”

“I was just looking for you. Lab B01 is collaborating with the government on an experimental study,” the Dean said eagerly to Wen Zhu. “Are you interested?”

“You know I still have two unfinished projects on my hands,” Wen Zhu declined tactfully.

The Dean didn’t push. “Do you and Officer Tang know each other?”

Tang San was brief: “We’ve met once.”

After a few casual pleasantries, Wen Zhu politely took his leave. Tang San watched Wen Zhu’s retreating back for a long time. The Dean joked, “Our Xiao Wen is quite good-looking, isn’t he? A pity he’s married.”

“He is quite good.” Tang San withdrew his gaze. The skin around his mechanical right eye twitched violently and subtly. He covered it with his hand, feeling the eyeball throb uneasily in his palm.

He looks more familiar every time.

Wen Zhu’s phone screen lit up with an incoming call from Binchuan.

“Brother, someone’s been looking into you the past two days,” a worried female voice came from the other end.

Wen Zhu’s heart sank. He frowned. “Who?”

“I don’t know, I couldn’t find out anything,” the voice paused, reflecting. “This morning, my psychology teacher suddenly asked me where that big group photo of us went, and asked how you’ve been lately.”

“What did you say?”

“I said we haven’t seen each other in years and that I don’t know your situation.”

Wen Zhu gave a soft “mm.” “You did well, Sese.”

“Is it the research lab looking for you again?”

“Brother… please run away.” Wen Sese’s voice was shaky with choked-up breaths.

Wen Zhu looked up at the blue sky. “Where is there to run to?”

“Anywhere! Go far away and never come back!” Wen Sese gritted her teeth, tears falling uncontrollably. She leaned against the classroom wall, gasping for air, her mind a mess of overlapping memories.

“Sese, calm down.” The calm voice on the phone brought her back to reality. “I’ll find time to come back tomorrow.”

He emphasized with heavy stress: “We haven’t been in touch for years. Our relationship is terrible, and we have no contact. Do you remember?”

“I remember.” Wen Sese calmed down, her voice almost a plea. “Brother, you have to protect yourself.”

“I know,” Wen Zhu said airily. “Looking after yourself is enough. No one can hurt me.”

“Would you mind telling me what kind of person he is?”

“He’s a very cold person. I don’t have a good relationship with him.” Wen Sese licked her lips. She felt the man’s gaze lingering on her wrist and uncomfortably pulled down her sleeve to cover the red string there. “He always had great grades, but he had a nasty personality. He was never like other brothers who care about their sisters.”

Pei Qingshan’s expression was strange, yet he felt an odd sense of relief.

It was Wen Zhu, alright.

“After graduating high school, he went to the city for university and never contacted the family again.”

“Was he always like that, or was there a turning point where his personality suddenly changed?”

“No!” Wen Sese answered quickly. “He was always that dislikable.”

“Why don’t you like your brother?” Pei Qingshan looked at her features; she truly did look like Wen Zhu, yet she was completely different. “Just because he’s cold?”

“What else?” Wen Sese took a deep breath, her eyes red as she snapped back. “After he started high school, he abandoned me and Dad. What expectations should I still have for him?”

Pei Qingshan suddenly remembered the first time he saw Wen Zhu at Lin-Da. That drunken man had stopped Wen Zhu, claiming to be his father while hurling abuse at him.

He handed Wen Sese a tissue while thinking to himself: Good riddance.

“Why are you asking all this?” Wen Sese asked.

“A national-level experiment requires a background check on every researcher.” Pei Qingshan flashed his ID. “Just routine business.”

“I see.” Wen Sese relaxed slightly and took a sip of water.

In fact, Wen Sese probably didn’t realize that her subconscious habits were just like Wen Zhu’s. She licked her lips when nervous and only remembered to drink water once she felt she could relax.

What is she nervous about?

The relationship between Wen Sese and Wen Zhu didn’t seem as bad as the “terrible” reputation suggested. Otherwise, she wouldn’t subconsciously mimic the habits of someone she claimed to hate. At the very least, it suggested this person provided her with a sense of security.

Pei Qingshan’s gaze felt like a sharp blade hanging over her head at all times. Wen Sese had never felt such intense pressure from anyone before.

“Do you mind if I ask what you do for a living now?”

There it is again.

Wen Sese lowered her head uneasily. This man used polite phrases like “If it’s convenient” or “I wonder if I might ask,” but he made no effort to hide the scrutiny and aggression in his eyes.

Where on earth did Wen Zhu cross paths with someone like this?

“I’m a math teacher at a high school.”

“The same one you both attended?”

“Yes.”

Long fingertips tapped rhythmically on the table. “I saw that your college entrance scores were very high. Why didn’t you go out to see the world?”

“I wanted to stay near home for work.”

“Has anything strange happened around you lately?”

“No. It’s been very peaceful.”

“Always?”

Wen Sese snapped her head up. She met Pei Qingshan’s calm eyes. It seemed like just a casual question, devoid of any emotion.

She took two deep breaths, her fingernails digging into her palms. It took a long moment before she heard her own voice, relatively steady.

“Yes… always.”