The Heiress's Driver Rules the Underworld

Chapter 3: He's Only My Driver

More than a dozen cars stood outside the Luan family residence.

Even the cheapest one would cost Shen Kaiyue ten years of his driver’s salary.

He parked the silver-gray sports car. Luan Xiaoman climbed out but did not go inside. Instead, she leaned down at his window.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“I’m the driver.”

“Drivers can’t eat?”

“Depends whether the boss feeds them.”

“I’ll feed you.”

“You haven’t paid me.”

Luan Xiaoman ground her teeth and reached for the door.

“Get out.”

Shen leaned away from her hand. “Your family is discussing a marriage. What would I do in there?”

“That is exactly why I want you inside.”

“You want to use me as a shield?”

Luan Xiaoman smiled sweetly. “Aren’t you good at persuading unreasonable people to be reasonable?”

They were still at an impasse when the front door opened.

Luan Zhaowan stood at the top of the steps. She had changed out of her business suit into a black dress. It was not ostentatious, but it made the clean lines of her neck and shoulders impossible to miss. One hand rested against the doorframe. She looked first at Luan Xiaoman, then at the driver’s seat.

“Come inside.”

Shen pointed to himself. “Me?”

“Is there a fourth person in that car?”

“No.”

“Then I mean you.”

Shen had no choice but to get out.

As he passed her, Luan Zhaowan’s gaze settled on his right hand.

“You’re hurt?”

Shen looked down.

The skin over his index knuckle was slightly scraped, probably from catching the telescopic baton. No one would have noticed without looking closely.

“It’s nothing.”

“Who did that?”

“Your sister’s friends.”

Luan Xiaoman immediately objected. “They’re not my friends. I barely know Fang.”

Luan Zhaowan looked at her. “You were racing again?”

“I won a custom shop.”

“You won it?”

Luan Xiaoman faltered, then pointed at Shen. “He won it. Round it up and that means I won it.”

Luan Zhaowan said nothing.

Her gaze lingered on Shen for two seconds longer than usual. Then she turned toward the house.

“Come in first.”

Seven or eight people sat around the dining table.

The old master’s seat was empty. A man in his fifties occupied the first place on the left. When Luan Xiaoman entered, she greeted him as Second Uncle.

Luo Qisheng sat opposite him.

Shen had never met the man, but Luan Xiaoman had mentioned his name twice on the drive. The man in that particular seat, whose eyes remained fixed on Luan Zhaowan, could only be Luo Qisheng.

Luo Qisheng was looking at Shen now.

“Zhaowan, who is this?”

“My driver,” Luan Zhaowan said.

“A driver at the table?”

Luan Xiaoman pulled out a chair and sat. “Does Mr. Luo decide who gets to eat in our house?”

“Xiaoman, I was only asking.”

Luo Qisheng’s smile did not waver. He turned to Shen.

“Mr. Shen, I heard you handled the situation in the garage this afternoon.”

“Your men didn’t report back?”

Silence fell around the table.

Second Uncle set down his chopsticks. “Young man, watch your tone.”

Shen pulled out the last chair but did not sit.

“Then let me phrase it another way. Mr. Luo had Ms. Luan’s car blocked this afternoon. Since he has come to dinner tonight, is he here to discuss compensation?”

The smile faded slightly from Luo Qisheng’s face.

“I merely invited Zhaowan to reconsider the partnership. My men were a little rough. They never intended to hurt anyone.”

“Hitting the rear window with a baton counts as an invitation?”

“You never let them hit it.”

“That’s why you’re still sitting down.”

Shen did not raise his voice.

The housekeeper pouring tea still trembled. Water splashed onto her tray.

Luan Xiaoman lowered her head, shoulders shaking.

She was trying not to laugh.

Luan Zhaowan sat to the right of the head seat. She took a sip of water and made no attempt to stop Shen.

Luo Qisheng leaned back.

“Your new driver is interesting, Zhaowan.”

“He drives well,” she said.

“He simply doesn’t understand the rules.”

“He understands mine. That’s enough.”

Shen glanced at her.

She did not return the look. Her tone made the words sound like nothing more than a statement of fact.

Second Uncle frowned. “Zhaowan, the Luo family came in good faith. Joining forces on the harbor-district project would benefit everyone. You and Qisheng are close in age. Before the old master passed—”

“Second Uncle.” Luan Zhaowan cut him off. “Business is business. Marriage is marriage. I won’t accept the Luo family’s method of blocking the road to negotiate a project. As for marriage, I have no such plans.”

“Feelings can be cultivated with time.”

“Then Mr. Luo is welcome to cultivate his feelings slowly. He does not need to bring them into my home.”

Luan Xiaoman finally lost the battle and burst out laughing.

Luo Qisheng’s face darkened completely.

He did not lose his temper with Luan Zhaowan. He merely raised one hand.

A silent man seated behind him stood.

He was around forty. Not exceptionally tall, but thick through the shoulders and back. A charcoal-gray traditional jacket stretched across his arms. His hands were broad, and his knuckles had been worn flat by years of training.

“Cui Chongshan,” the man introduced himself. “Head instructor at the Zhengyue Martial Arts School in the South District.”

Shen nodded. “Shen Kaiyue. Started my job today.”

Luan Xiaoman laughed again.

Cui Chongshan ignored her and stared at Shen. “Two of the men you injured this afternoon studied under me.”

“They weren’t very good.”

“When you beat a dog, you still look at its master.”

“You teach martial arts, and you also teach your students to be dogs?”

Cui Chongshan’s eyelid twitched.

“A hard mouth won’t help you, boy. Come outside and exchange a few moves.”

Shen picked up a pair of chopsticks and studied the dishes on the table.

“I haven’t eaten yet.”

Luo Qisheng gave a cold laugh. “Or are you afraid?”

“I have a bad temper when I’m hungry.”

“Don’t worry. Instructor Cui knows restraint. This won’t take long.”

Shen picked up a spare rib and took a bite.

It was good, though it had gone cold.

He set down the bone and wiped his hands with a napkin.

“Fine. Let’s settle the stakes first.”

“What do you want?” Luo Qisheng asked.

“You pay for the repairs to the car from this afternoon. You apologize to the two women who were inside it. The harbor project goes back to fair competition, and you stop blocking roads.”

“And if you lose?”

“I resign and apologize to your men.”

Luo Qisheng looked at Luan Zhaowan. “Can your driver negotiate the harbor project on your behalf?”

Luan Zhaowan set down her glass.

“He cannot represent the project.”

Luo Qisheng smiled.

Then she continued, “But I accept all three of his conditions.”

His smile froze.

“Fine.” Luo Qisheng forced the word between his teeth. “We have a deal.”

The Luan residence’s front courtyard was broad, paved in bluestone, with two old osmanthus trees growing beside it.

Everyone came out from the dining room.

Cui Chongshan stood in the center of the yard and removed his traditional jacket. He wore only a black T-shirt underneath. When he rolled his shoulders and neck, his joints cracked twice.

Shen remained in his white shirt. He did not even roll his sleeves farther up.

Luan Xiaoman moved close to her sister and whispered, “Sis, if he loses, will you really make him resign?”

“Do you think he will lose?”

“Cui Chongshan is the chief instructor at Zhengyue.”

“And?”

“And he’s good.”

Luan Zhaowan watched Shen in the courtyard.

“The four men who blocked the garage this afternoon probably thought they were good too.”

Luan Xiaoman tilted her head. “You’ve known him for half a day, and you already trust him that much?”

Luan Zhaowan finally turned to her.

“Whose car brought you home?”

Luan Xiaoman stopped talking.

In the center of the courtyard, Cui Chongshan had taken his stance.

“Please.”

Shen assumed no stance at all. He only asked, “If you surrender now, does that count as breaking the agreement?”

Cui Chongshan’s face sank. He drove a foot against the ground.

A dull thud sounded from the bluestone.

His fist shot at Shen’s chest, far faster and heavier than anything the men at the car meet had thrown. The punch had not yet landed, but the sleeve already stirred the air.

Shen moved half a step left.

No more than necessary. The fist grazed his shirt.

Cui Chongshan’s other arm swept across at once.

Shen lifted his forearm to block.

Bang.

Bone met bone.

A glimmer of satisfaction had barely entered Cui Chongshan’s eyes when Shen’s hand slid from his wrist to the back of his elbow.

Grip.

Press.

Cui Chongshan’s center tilted. His right foot instinctively stepped forward to recover.

Shen had been waiting for that step.

His shoe hooked behind Cui Chongshan’s heel. His shoulder drove forward.

The thickset man left the ground and crashed flat onto the bluestone.

He tried to rise, but the toe of a shoe stopped beside his throat.

Fewer than three seconds had passed since the first punch.

The courtyard went so still that only the leaves could be heard.

Shen withdrew his foot and looked down.

“Can you get up?”

Cui Chongshan’s face reddened. He pushed himself into a sitting position but did not dare lunge again.

His eyes rested on the toe of Shen’s shoe. His Adam’s apple moved once. There was no second attack and no attempt to save face.

“I lost.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, two bodyguards behind Luo Qisheng stepped forward together.

Shen turned his head.

He said nothing.

The two men stopped.

Luo Qisheng’s expression was ugly. “You’re only a driver. Do you really think you can stand up for the Luan family?”

“He is only my driver.”

Luan Zhaowan crossed the courtyard in her high heels.

She stopped beside Shen and offered him a clean handkerchief.

“But no one else gets to discipline my people.”

Shen looked at the handkerchief, then at her.

“What am I supposed to wipe?”

“Your hand.”

The scrape on his right knuckle had opened again. A tiny bead of blood rested on the skin.

Shen accepted the handkerchief and wiped it slowly.

It carried a faint, cool fragrance—the same scent that had lingered in the back seat that afternoon.

Luo Qisheng watched them, his chest rising and falling several times. In the end, he did not dare say anything harsher.

“Fine. I’ll pay for the repairs and send someone to apologize tomorrow. We compete fairly for the harbor project.”

He turned and left.

Cui Chongshan rose without help. As he passed Shen, he paused.

“You are not an ordinary driver.”

“Ordinary drivers don’t earn what I do.”

Cui Chongshan froze for a moment, then lowered his head and followed Luo Qisheng out.

Second Uncle looked equally displeased, but he did not mention the marriage again. Claiming he felt unwell, he left dinner early.

Once most of the guests were gone, Luan Xiaoman was the first to rush over.

“What was that move? Teach me.”

“No.”

“I’ll pay tuition.”

“Clear your three speeding tickets first.”

“Shen Kaiyue!”

“Xiaoman,” Luan Zhaowan called. “Go inside and eat.”

Luan Xiaoman gave Shen one last resentful look before returning to the dining room.

Only the two of them remained in the courtyard.

Luan Zhaowan glanced at the handkerchief in his hand. “Wash it and return it to me.”

“You want one handkerchief back?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I thought it was an employee benefit.”

“You think too much.”

She turned and took two steps, then stopped.

“Pick me up at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Where are we going?”

“The South District.”

“To negotiate the project?”

“To repair the car first.”

Shen laughed. “Isn’t the Luo family paying?”

“Payment is one thing.” Luan Zhaowan looked back at him. “You crashed my car. Tomorrow, you will sit beside it and watch the repairs.”

“Are you docking my pay?”

“Depends on your performance.”

She entered the house.

Shen looked down at the handkerchief. His boss might hold grudges, but at least she honored a contract.

He had just put it in his pocket when brakes screamed outside the gates.

A security guard hurried into the courtyard, his expression grim.

“Mr. Shen, more than thirty cars just arrived.”

“Who are they looking for?”

“You.”

The guard held out a black envelope.

One line was written across the front.

Thirty-Six Crews of the South District.

Midnight tomorrow. We’ll be waiting for you to clear the road.