Out Of Control All The Way - Chapter 7

After taking a tour of the place, the two of them headed downstairs.

On the right side of the first-floor office area was the lounge, and Jiang Muzhou invited Shang Shixu to take a seat first.

Noticing the tea set, Shang Shixu made himself right at home and began brewing tea.

Seeing this, Jiang Muzhou quickly stepped forward to help pour the water, but Shang Shixu waved him off.

Watching Shang Shixu’s practiced movements, Jiang Muzhou felt as though this wasn’t his own studio at all, but rather the domain of the man sitting before him.

Not only had Shang Shixu brewed a cup of tea for himself, but he had unexpectedly poured one for Jiang Muzhou as well.

Then he simply sat down, leisurely sipping his tea.

He looked as though he had completely forgotten the actual reason he had come here.

Shang Shixu took a couple of sips of tea and praised, “Good tea.”

“It’s from my hometown.”

“Where are you from?”

“Suzhou.”

Shang Shixu understood immediately. “So you like sweet things?”

Jiang Muzhou looked at him in surprise. Shang Shixu pointed toward a few snacks and small pastries displayed on the shelf in the lounge, all of which were sweet.

Jiang Muzhou gave a self-deprecating smile. “It’s a habit. When I was a child, I ate too much candy and got a lot of cavities. Back when my baby teeth were falling out one by one, I thought I was going to die, and I cried, begging my mom not to let me eat candy so I could stay alive.”

Hearing about this embarrassing childhood anecdote, Shang Shixu chuckled. “Then how did you dare to eat sweets again later on?”

Jiang Muzhou smiled, revealing his neat teeth. “New teeth grew in, after all.”

They chatted for a while, but Tong Hui still hadn’t returned.

Growing a bit worried, Jiang Muzhou called Tong Hui, but the other end didn’t pick up.

Instead, a text message came through quietly: I’ve been targeted. This girl is too formidable, she can track me down effortlessly, so I won’t be coming over to your place. I’m heading back to my own nest. Wishing you a grand opening and a prosperous business.

Jiang Muzhou quietly raised his head to glance at Shang Shixu, then replied: I know the person she’s with. He’s a second-generation elite, the two of them probably have some background.

He watched the chat interface with Tong Hui remain stuck on the other person is typing for a long time without any actual movement. Just when Jiang Muzhou thought he was about to receive a lengthy analysis, Tong Hui simply replied: Truly a place where a brick dropped from the sky could hit two officials.

The subtext was clear: they were people you couldn’t afford to provoke.

Seeing that Shang Shixu had no intention of leaving yet, Jiang Muzhou kindly reminded him, “Would you like to get in touch with your cousin?”

“It’s fine.” Shang Shixu’s expression remained calm, looking not the least bit worried about the young woman. “I’m only here today to act as her driver. She can handle her own affairs.”

He understood this cousin of his; she had a stubborn personality that wouldn’t turn back until she hit a brick wall. If you forbade her from doing something, she would only want to do it more. Guiding her gently was better than blocking her completely.

Dong Qianwen was his uncle’s only child. Her father spent year-round stationed in the military, so her mother had poured all her energy into raising this cousin of his, resulting in a girl who looked obedient and sensible on the surface, but was actually rebellious to the core.

Putting on an act for too long eventually became exhausting. It seemed starting around last year, Dong Qianwen began undergoing a complete transformation, as if some floodgate had opened, completely altering her personality to the point where she had to oppose her parents in everything she did.

Shang Shixu didn’t understand the details of her situation, and she kept her lips sealed about it anyway. Even so, if she asked him for help, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

He believed that no matter how much Dong Qianwen changed, she wouldn’t do anything overly outrageous.

The two of them chatted in the reception room until evening without ever waiting for Shang Shixu’s cousin to return.

Looking at the sky gradually darkening outside the window, Jiang Muzhou politely asked, “Shall we go grab dinner?”

Shang Shixu picked up his car key and stood up. “Let’s go. My treat.”

Jiang Muzhou countered, “We agreed last time that I would treat.”

Shang Shixu looked at him and said with deadpan seriousness, “Then you can treat next time.”

When it came to choosing where to eat, Jiang Muzhou was usually casual and unpicky. But treating a boss of this magnitude meant he honestly had no idea what kind of restaurant would be appropriate.

Naturally, picking an expensive place was a safe bet to avoid any mistakes.

In the end, he found a renowned high-end Japanese restaurant, upscale without feeling overly formal.

After that accidental encounter, Jiang Muzhou’s life returned to its usual routine of going to work, testing and experiencing various games, and browsing motorcycle gear.

Jiang Muzhou hadn’t taken the initiative to contact Shang Shixu, consistently believing that he and Shang Shixu didn’t belong to the same social circle.

To squeeze into that circle, many people had to cultivate countless connections, expending immense energy, money, and time just to barely scrape their way in.

Jiang Muzhou felt quite differently. It wasn’t that he was being overly aloof or looking down on that circle; rather, he simply possessed self-awareness. People who didn’t belong to the same world shouldn’t force themselves to merge. Eating and drinking together, no matter how exquisite the food or how prestigious the wine, held very little real meaning.

More importantly, he couldn’t bring himself to do things like sucking up to people; when it came to making friends, he valued authenticity above all else.

Yet President Shang, whom Jiang Muzhou assumed must be exceedingly busy, would check in on him from time to time, as if determined to fulfill his earlier promise by taking him out for meals.

Their relationship took a step forward a few days ago when Shang Shixu called to inform him that he would be sending over a belated grand opening gift in a few days.

Jiang Muzhou hadn’t taken it to heart.

When the gift actually arrived, however, he realized just how solemn and grand this present truly was.

A dedicated vehicle with professional handlers, accompanied by a crane-haired, youthful-looking Feng Shui master.

Amidst the astonished gazes of everyone at the studio, the Feng Shui master held a Luopan compass in his left hand while performing calculations with his right, quickly locating a specific spot.

He then instructed his assistants to rearrange several plants and decorative fixtures inside the studio, shifting them precisely to the positions where he believed they rightfully belonged.

Finally, an assistant carried over an exquisite box. The Feng Shui master opened it and extracted an item from within.

It was a Pixiu beast.

The carving craftsmanship was intricate, its posture lifelike, and the materials used were exceptionally refined. The entire Pixiu looked undeniably expensive at a single glance.

The process of blessing and installing the Pixiu was intensely intricate and filled with a sacred aura. Everyone in the studio stared wide-eyed, not even daring to draw a full breath, terrified of violating any taboos or disturbing unseen deities.

Once the Pixiu was properly placed and the master had imparted a few precautions, they finally took their leave.

Rich people placed immense stock in Feng Shui; it was said the larger a business grew, the more its owners believed in these things. Some past viral short videos had even sensationalized stories of Feng Shui wars surrounding financial skyscrapers in Hong Kong.

Jiang Muzhou had never believed in these things since childhood.

Yet, nurtured by the cultural influence of Chinese cinema from a young age, people naturally retained a deep-seated reverence in their bones for these unknown, unseen, and intangible forces.

Looking at this exquisite Pixiu, whether due to a psychological effect or not, Jiang Muzhou vaguely felt as though an invisible energy field was radiating throughout his studio.

It was almost as if, having invited this Pixiu in, the company really was destined to grow strong and prosperous.

The ceremony moments ago had been far too solemn. Once the group drove away, the rest of the studio staff still hadn’t snapped out of that lingering atmosphere.

Jiang Muzhou clapped his hands to pull everyone’s focus back. “Back to work, everyone. Back to work.”

Ai Le, the software developer, cautiously crept closer. “Boss, did you commission this?”

Commission what?

The Pixiu? Or the deity-like aura?

Jiang Muzhou felt that Shang Shixu seemed a bit overly enthusiastic, bringing an inexplicable sense of pressure upon him.

He paused for two seconds, his tone giving away nothing: “You could say that.”

Just as Jiang Muzhou sat down in his office chair, Shang Shixu’s call came through.

Answering the phone, Jiang Muzhou stood up and walked outside toward the back of the building, where he lit a cigarette.

“Did you receive it?”

“Thank you.” Apart from expressing gratitude, he didn’t know what else to say.

Shang Shixu leaned back against his office chair, twirling a fountain pen back and forth over his desk with his left hand. “He’s a universally recognized master in the circle; his Feng Shui assessments are never wrong, and it was even blessed at the Golden Buddha Temple. Word is, once it’s set in place, you mustn’t move it around haphazardly. It’s guaranteed to bring you a booming business.”

It was the peak of summer, and standing outdoors felt like being trapped inside a steamer basket, radiating heat straight down to one’s bones.

Jiang Muzhou leaned against the wall in the shade, borrowing the coolness of the shadows while smoking his cigarette and listening to Shang Shixu talk about a blessed Pixiu, auspicious portents, and the master he had gone out of his way to find.

The shrill buzzing of cicadas pierced the air by the roadside, while the man’s voice on the phone remained gentle, carrying the tone reserved for a close friend.

Then he heard himself say, “President Shang, let me treat you to dinner.”