Perhaps knowing his friend wouldn’t be driving a Land Rover after all had restored Duan Yan’s sense of camaraderie. He wasted no time finding Song Liang another job, this time as a server.
The work consisted of serving tea and refreshments. There were strict requirements for looks and physique, but the pay was good.
After hearing the details, Song Liang said, “Sounds much the same as being a host.”
“Obviously,” Duan Yan replied. “What respectable job do you think I could find you?”
Fair enough, Song Liang thought.
Then he asked, “It has nothing to do with the Xiao family, right?”
Duan Yan assured him, “Absolutely nothing. Not the slightest connection.”
Given the weight the surname Xiao carried in this novel, that promise hardly sounded reliable.
But when Song Liang arrived for the interview, he immediately understood why Duan Yan had been so confident.
The place before him glittered like an imperial throne room. The crowds bustling through it might have been the entire court, accompanied by three thousand palace beauties.
He turned to the man beside him.
“I’ve never worked in a casino.”
“Oh, it’s fine. You’ll learn. They’re not asking you to deal cards. Just serve tea and drinks. If a guest causes trouble, press a bell.”
As he spoke, Duan Yan led him to the casino’s floor supervisor and began his usual round of pleasantries and introductions.
This time, however, he kept a firm grip on Song Liang’s arm.
His sleeve was being crushed into wrinkles. Song Liang tried to pull free while studying the three-meter-tall God of Wealth statue before him.
Since arriving in this world, he had never encountered such a distinctive decorative statement. Even its colors were brazenly extravagant, as if desperate to inform everyone that the owner had money.
It was entirely at odds with the sign outside: Portia Private Club.
Apparently, this place really wasn’t connected to the Xiaos.
Their tastes were worlds apart. Never mind the uncle and nephew—even Xiao Wenyu wouldn’t have done this.
While chatting with Duan Yan, the supervisor was quietly assessing Song Liang.
When Duan Yan had first offered to introduce someone, she had told him they weren’t hiring. But he had insisted the young man was handsome, well behaved, and unlikely to cause trouble.
Eventually, she had agreed to take a look.
He certainly was handsome. Rosy lips, white teeth, clean-cut features. Standing there in a light-colored sweatshirt and jeans, he looked positively sweet.
“What do you think of the place?” she asked.
“Ugly.”
Song Liang pointed at the enormous God of Wealth.
“That’s even uglier.”
The supervisor: “…”
Duan Yan couldn’t cover his mouth in time. All he could do was force a smile and apologize.
“Sorry, Ms. Fei. He’s still a student. Very direct, not much of a way with words. Please don’t take it personally.”
“It’s fine.”
She gave a small cough, then lowered her voice.
“I don’t think it’s particularly attractive either. But the owner likes it.”
That reminded Song Liang of something.
【System.】
【Understood.】
The interface appeared, listing the information on this establishment—a casino operating under the name of a private club.
Its owner was Hu Yue.
No Xiao surname, nor any other particularly notable one.
It looked perfectly ordinary.
Mistaking his silence for shyness, Ms. Fei softened her voice.
“You’re still at university, right? Things are rather complicated here, so we only consider people with work experience. Do you have any?”
Song Liang nodded.
“Yes.”
“I don’t mean washing dishes or carrying plates,” she said patiently. “I mean the kind of experience where…”
“Hosting.”
Her smile faltered.
“…You’ve done more than I expected. Why did you stop?”
“The owner wanted to keep me. I ran.”
“…”
Ms. Fei looked at his face, considered his blunt manner, and believed him.
Her opinion of him improved. Not everyone could turn down temptation.
That quality might actually suit their casino.
“A casino is different from an entertainment club. We get all sorts of people, so occasionally there are unexpected incidents—”
Before she finished, a man came flying out through the doors of the nearby hall with a loud crash.
“—But we have specialists to handle those incidents, so you needn’t worry.”
Two burly security guards in black emerged a moment later. Each gave the man a punch, leaving him howling before they dragged him away.
Ms. Fei smiled at Song Liang.
“Can you handle that?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
Then he glanced toward the entrance.
“Are you hiring for the job where they beat people up?”
“What beating? That’s security. Those positions are filled through internal referrals. We don’t recruit externally.”
Ms. Fei covered her mouth as she laughed.
“If everything’s all right, come sign the contract. I’ll explain the pay and benefits.”
“Sure.”
3085 objected immediately.
【Sure? What do you mean, sure? What part of this is all right?】
Song Liang: 【What part isn’t?】
【This place clearly has organized crime connections!】
Song Liang: 【Then should I go back to Songlan Mansion?】
【…】
3085 began to stammer.
【I understand wanting to earn money, but this is a ridiculous career change! Of all the classic vices—drinking, debauchery, gambling—you’ve already covered two! No respectable host behaves like this! Keep it up and the main system really will issue me a warning!】
Song Liang: 【If respectable hosts aren’t supposed to go there, why do these places exist?】
【…The scenario worlds are realistic and fully developed. Naturally, places like this exist.】
Song Liang: 【Then the main system should have accounted for the possibility that I’d come here.】
Song Liang: 【To work.】
【…You’d better only be working!】
It no longer worried about bad people chasing its host.
Now it worried he might decide to join them.
Meanwhile, in one of the club’s private rooms, Liang Ziyu sat on a sofa, glaring impatiently at an underling.
“What do you mean, you beat up the wrong person?”
The man offered an ingratiating smile.
“Young Mr. Liang…”
“Fuck ‘Young Mr. Liang’!”
Liang Ziyu kicked him.
“Call me Boss!”
The underling: “…”
“Boss.”
He wiped away his cold sweat.
“We asked around. There’s only one Kevin at Songlan Mansion. But he doesn’t seem to match the Kevin you described. Apparently, he’s Deputy CEO Li’s lover, too. Deputy CEO Li even called me about it that day.”
Liang Ziyu frowned.
He hadn’t seen the man they had beaten, but someone else’s lover couldn’t be right.
A man of Xiao Yi’s standing would never touch what someone else had already had.
“Could he be hiding? Or have quit?”
“Impossible. I checked with someone inside the club. There’s only one Kevin. He’s so arrogant he won’t even let anyone else use the name. There can’t be a second one.”
“Fuck!”
Liang Ziyu kicked the table over. Drinks and fruit scattered across the floor.
His expression darkened as he swore.
By now, there could be no doubt.
Someone had played him.
“Little bastard. Acts all fearless, but he’s a coward after all. Gave me a fake name.”
He sneered.
“Keep digging. Don’t stop until you find him!”
“Yes, Boss!”
The underling wet his lips and lowered his voice.
“Boss, Xiao Guangjin’s been trying to reach you. He says you owe him an explanation…”
Liang Ziyu scoffed.
“An explanation? Has he lost his mind? I’m a gangster. Since when do I owe anyone explanations?”
“…You’re the president of Xinhe Group now. Technically, you’re no longer a gangster.”
“…”
Liang Ziyu turned a sinister look on him.
The man hurried to amend his words.
“…Just mentioning it. He is a Xiao, after all. If we handle this badly, it could cause trouble.”
“He’s a Xiao, my ass. Once Xiao Yi really gets started, there might not be many Xiaos left.”
For all his bravado, Liang Ziyu knew he was in the wrong this time.
He and Xiao Guangjin had both known about Xiao Wenyu’s arrangement with Redhead. It had seemed mutually beneficial.
At worst, Xiao Guangjin would owe him a favor. At best, Xiao Yi would die, which would benefit the Liang family too.
Even if Xiao Guangjin successfully took power afterward, Liang Ziyu would have leverage over him.
There would be plenty of uses for that.
Instead, he had gained nothing, lost Redhead, and left the evidence in Xiao Yi’s hands.
To save Redhead, he had been forced to hand over the recording of his conversation with Xiao Wenyu.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.
Remembering the young man in the baseball cap beside Xiao Yi, he swore.
“Fuck. You’d better hope I never find out your name!”
“Song… Liang.”
Inside the office, Ms. Fei looked at the paperwork in her hand and smiled at the young man before her.
“That’s quite a distinctive name.”
“You can start tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
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