Chapter 4 - Parallel Lines

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

And, as I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters.

A one-hour access card meant that if he didn't leave within the hour, he'd either be stuck in the elevator or dragged off to the security office.

 

This, the butler had casually informed him, glancing at his pocket watch as Shuai Zhaomin prepared to leave. "Mr. Shuai, I must apologize, but you'll need to move quickly. Once the card expires, the alarm system will activate."

 

And when had the butler decided to mention this? With just one minute remaining, as Shuai Zhaomin stepped into the elevator, its doors not even fully closed. What's the point of saying it now? Huh? Go to hell!

 

Using the elevator required a swipe of the card just to select a floor. Upon arrival, another swipe was needed to open the door. Finally, he had to scan the card again at the guard's station for final verification before the card was taken back. Only then did the oppressive gazes boring into his back reluctantly withdraw.

 

The whole sequence demanded flawless execution, and though Shuai Zhaomin was in decent shape, the tension left him leaning against a wall, breathing heavily.

 

His mood couldn't simply be described as "bad." The last time he'd been this furious was when a purple-eyed, predatory pseudo-herbivore dared to lay hands on his sister. That confrontation had ended with a fistfight in her living room, even bringing down the chandelier in the process.

 

Tomorrow at 3 PM? Fuck! Why don't I have any other plans?

 

Frustrated as he was, Shuai Zhaomin retrieved his planner with practiced grace, though his smile was becoming increasingly strained. A packed schedule: an 8 AM meeting until noon, followed by a lunch gathering lasting until 2 PM. From there, he would just barely make it to the 3 PM appointment.

 

Hell! A whole day dealing with beasts!

 

"Dawson, I'm heading over now," he growled into his phone, the moment it connected, his irritation leaking through despite his best efforts.

 

"What? Now? You're coming over again?" The voice on the other end was laced with dread, accompanied by faint cries of protest in the background. Shuai Zhaomin's mood lightened ever so slightly.

 

"Yes, now. I'll be there in about half an hour." Flagging down a cab, he directed the driver with a cheerful tone that nearly broke into a whistle. The noise on the other end grew more pitiful.

 

"Shuai! You were just here this afternoon! What's happened now?"

 

"I'll explain when I see you. Get ready for me!" Without waiting for a reply, he ended the call, folding his arms as he gazed out at the violet twilight and the city lights blinking to life. He let out a low chuckle and flicked the car window with an elegant finger.

 

Tengshe Brelini, is it?

 

The man's last provocative smirk replayed vividly in his mind.

 

Short black hair, slightly curled, covering his head in a way that looked oddly soft. Despite the full beard, it was neatly trimmed, accentuating his pronounced, sensual lips.

 

But that smile—infuriating. And those red-brown eyes, unless they belonged on a fluffy rabbit, were far from endearing. Deep in those beast-like irises lurked a savage cruelty, shrouded just enough in a sugar-coated facade.

 

Shuai Zhaomin had a sinking feeling that tomorrow's meeting would yield no progress. Even if he wasn't once again subjected to another impromptu live-action peep show, that man would undoubtedly find some other way to provoke him.

 

Damn him! Do rich people really have nothing better to do than mess with lawyers?

 

He knew, of course, that wasn't the case. Anger aside, Shuai Zhaomin suspected this was Mr. Tengshe's way of testing people. But why test me? That was the real mystery.

 

Today, he was here as a lawyer, not a butler or a bodyguard. If there was any testing to be done, it should've been of his expertise, not his patience. Thinking back, he should've just smashed that porcelain cup over the man's head.

 

Over the years, Shuai Zhaomin had never truly thrown anything at his clients, but given another encounter like this one, he was sure he'd finally launch something at that insufferably arrogant face.

 

Tonight, there was no escaping the need to thoroughly investigate the Brelini family. That thought brought him back to another beast—one who'd stolen his sister away and, as of last month, officially become his brother-in-law. Tsk! Damn it! Of all times, I actually need that bastard's help.

 

Whatever fleeting relief he'd felt vanished entirely, replaced by foul irritation. Though he felt a pang of guilt for burdening Dawson, as he watched the city lights streak past the window, he knew one thing for sure: he badly needed to blow off steam.

 

***

 

"Miranda… I need coffee."

 

Faced with a crowd of wolves in human skin, Shuai Zhaomin could barely stomach food. What was in front of him now didn't even qualify as "human." The mere sight made him want to retch.

 

"No, Shuai. Drinking coffee on an empty stomach is terrible for your health. You should at least try to eat something," Miranda, his ever-diligent assistant, advised earnestly.

 

"Fine… I'll try." Damn it! American-style cuisine at noon? Just looking at the oversized portions was enough to churn his stomach. Who could stomach a steak that was the same thickness from every angle?

 

While his boss and colleagues laughed and chatted, their greasy lips perpetually busy with food or drink, Shuai Zhaomin found himself seething. How could dinner be so refined, yet lunch so revolting?

 

Right now, he wanted nothing more than to shove those plates of food down his boss's throat. If they liked eating so much, why not just eat themselves to death? Fuck it all!

 

A quick glance at his watch told him there was still an hour left of this torturous lunch gathering before he needed to rush to the luxurious Brelini residence in District Five. Which was the lesser evil? Neither. Obviously neither!

 

It wasn't as if he couldn't eat meat. He listlessly cut into the steak on his plate—it looked appetizing and even tasted fine. But he had no intention of indulging in such gluttony at midday.

 

"Shuai! I hear you've taken on the Brelini case. How's that going?" The question came from Adams, seated on the boss's left. His playboy attire couldn't mask his inherently crude demeanor as he directed the conversation straight at Shuai Zhaomin.

 

Damn you, Adams! You make me clean up your trash, and now you want a report?

 

"Had a meeting with them yesterday, and there's another one later today." Maintaining his polite smile, Shuai Zhaomin put down his utensils and dabbed at his lips with a napkin that had no reason to be sullied.

 

"Such a shame! That's a high-profile client. Good things always seem to land in your lap, don't they?"

 

Damn it, take it back if you want it so much! Did he look like he was enjoying picking up scraps?

 

"Let's not say that. Since they specified me, I'll do my best. But if it turns out I'm not the right fit, perhaps you'd be interested in taking over, Adams?" He adjusted his glasses with a graceful gesture and smiled, every bit the epitome of poise.

 

Adams nearly choked on his drink, his sun-bronzed face turning red as he struggled to swallow the misdirected sip. But he managed to recover and laugh it off, pretending nothing had happened.

 

"Shuai, you're young—you don't know much about the Brelini family."

 

Coward. Your logic doesn't even add up. While sneering inwardly, Shuai maintained his composed, courteous demeanor.

 

"I've heard the Brelini patriarch is gravely ill and that preparations for choosing the next head of the family are underway. Is that true?" Taking an elegant sip of water, he casually revealed a snippet of yesterday's learned intel. Sure enough, his boss and Adams both turned pale for a split second.

 

So that's the crux of it!

 

As one of the contenders for succession, Tengshe Brelini was probably fending off assassins left and right. No wonder security was so tight yesterday, and no wonder they needed him in court.

 

Whether the case was won or lost, Tengshe's priority was speed. The faster Shuai Zhaomin resolved this, the faster the man could return to Italy.

 

Shuai Zhaomin had speculated endlessly yesterday, but in the end, it boiled down to this: the family power struggle. Damn it! As if being a lawyer wasn't enough—did he also need to double as a human shield now?

 

"Shuai, if you've got an appointment, you'd better head off. It wouldn't do to anger Mr. Brelini," his boss said, laughing heartily as he patted his large belly, clearly dismissing him.

 

"My apologies, then. I'll excuse myself." Earning an extra hour! Shuai Zhaomin forced himself to contain his glee. Bowing politely, he prepared to leave.

 

"Oh? Isn't this Attorney Shuai?"

 

What?

 

A deep, slightly raspy voice, rich with a cadence like a chant in fluent Mandarin, froze him on the spot. That voice was unmistakable—yet it shouldn't have appeared here, not now.

 

"Ah! Mr. Brelini!" His boss's fawning tone sent a shiver down Shuai Zhaomin's spine. The stout, portly man scrambled to his feet with such force the table seemed on the verge of tipping over.

 

"Attorney Shuai, what a coincidence," the tall figure approached, ignoring the boss's greeting entirely. He stood deliberately close, his presence palpable, his breath practically grazing Shuai Zhaomin's ear.

 

Damn it! A real man wouldn't endure this.

 

Acting on reflex, Shuai Zhaomin grabbed the nearest glass of water and hurled it at the short-cropped black curls atop the man's head. Gasps erupted from the table.

 

With a crisp clang, the glass hit the ground. Tengshe deflected it with ease, emerging unscathed save for a damp patch on his left shoulder.

 

It must have been all the pent-up frustration. Rational thought only got him this far. The moment he'd read through the case files yesterday, Shuai Zhaomin had doubted his ability to keep up the façade of politeness today. Turns out, he was right.

 

His fist flew straight into Tengshe's abdomen. This time, it connected, sending the man stumbling back several steps.

 

"Boss! Sir!" Panicked voices rang out amidst the sound of guns being loaded, followed by collective wails as the room descended into chaos.

 

"Now, this is interesting," Tengshe said, steadying himself as he pulled off his tie with a laugh. "Attorney Shuai, care for a little exercise?"

 

"With pleasure." Tossing aside his own tie and jacket, Shuai Zhaomin let a sly smile curl his lips.

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