Chapter 11: A Fateful Encounter

Chang Yu posted during the forum’s peak hours, and it wasn’t long before the comment section erupted.

“Life Rarely Grants You a Chicken”: 23333, you sound so convincing—I almost believed your nonsense!

“I Am a Fish”: If you’ve learned immortal arts, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and be like Ultraman, go save the world!

“Snail Princess”: Don’t immortal cultivators not need to eat? Why do you even need money?

“My Neighbor Walks Dogs During the Day”: The one above makes sense. I heard the technical term is ‘grain abstention’—even if you’re hungry, you don’t need food, just open your mouth and eat a few mouthfuls of fresh air from the northwest and you’re full.

“Really Want to Flush the Kid Above Down the Toilet”: Here’s a secret—actually, I know magic too. Really! I can fly! I’ve been hiding this for years and never dared tell anyone.

After reading these comments, Chang Yu felt a surge of frustration. Clearly, none of them believed him—their replies were nothing but careless banter.

He responded in the comment section: “Everything I said is the absolute truth. Why don’t you bunch of losers believe me?”

That one sentence turned the entire comment section against him. The whole forum erupted as netizens lined up to roast him.

“Beijing Hotpot”: Brothers, this guy must be dreaming. Let’s form a queue and wake him up one by one.

“Five-Finger Lady”: I’ve been having heat issues and my urine’s yellow—let me go first!

“The Real Me”: Those with diabetes stand back, don’t give this kid a taste of sweetness!

“Promise in the Wind”: Brothers, I’ve got kidney stones—watch me bash him till his head’s full of lumps.

“No Homework Please”: Those with uremia stand further back, don’t poison him to death all at once!

“Superficial! These people are so superficial!” Chang Yu silently set his phone down, gazing skyward at a forty-five degree angle, his face full of melancholy and sorrow.

He felt that sense of loneliness… like a sober soul among drunken masses.

“They have no idea whose post they’re replying to!”

“As a great immortal cultivator, a future hero of the people, a founder of the nation, a pioneer of the revolution, a blessing to young women…”

“I choose to forgive them, forgive their ignorant, childish, laughable remarks, because… I, Chang Yu, would never stoop to quarrel with mere mortals!”

Suddenly, his phone vibrated gently, dragging his thoughts back from the realm of fantasy.

Picking up his phone, Chang Yu noticed a private message from a user named “Fairy Loves Wellness.”

“Fairy Loves Wellness”: Hello, I read your post. Did you really learn immortal arts from your dreams and become the disciple of a master?

Chang Yu replied without hesitation: Of course it’s true. I’m a man of unyielding integrity, and such a man would never stoop to telling lies!

“Fairy Loves Wellness”: Now that you’ve acquired immortal arts, what do you plan to do next?

Chang Yu: What else? Naturally, I’ll work hard at my job by day and cultivate by night.

“Fairy Loves Wellness”: I thought you’d say, ‘I finally mastered immortal arts, so I never have to work again!’

Chang Yu: Easy for you to say. If I don’t work, how do I eat? Do you really think I want to go to work? By the way, let me ask, as an immortal cultivator, what’s the quickest way to earn some money?

“Fairy Loves Wellness”: I advise you not to do anything illegal or unruly. Our national institutions are very powerful—if you’re really an immortal cultivator, you still might not fare well against the machinery of the state.

Chang Yu: Of course I wouldn’t do anything illegal. I just want to know if there are legitimate ways to earn some money. I’m really strapped for cash lately!

“Fairy Loves Wellness”: You could consider being a bodyguard for the rich and powerful. They value their lives highly—if you can protect their safety, it should be easy to earn a substantial sum.

“A bodyguard… that seems feasible.” Chang Yu frowned in thought, the more he considered it, the more reasonable Fairy Loves Wellness's suggestion seemed.

Being a bodyguard is tough work, and you still have to put up with the boss’s mood, but it beats being a miserable gatekeeper for someone else.

With that, Chang Yu quickly typed a reply: Your advice is excellent—I’ll give it a try. Thank you very much!

“Fairy Loves Wellness”: You’re welcome, and good luck.

Putting down his phone, Chang Yu rubbed his own head, a glimmer of hope blossoming in his heart as if dawn had broken before his eyes.

He wasn’t afraid of hardship or exhaustion, only that… on the road of life, he needed a little guidance.

Before, he only knew he lacked money, but not how to earn it. Now, he could proudly puff out his chest and, with renewed spirit, declare to the world…

He, Chang Yu, had finally found his direction in life!

“Brother Wang.” Chang Yu’s eyes shone as he looked at Fat Wang beside him.

Fat Wang was startled by Chang Yu’s sudden intensity. “Wh-what?”

He shifted his seat nervously, quietly edging farther away from Chang Yu.

Ever since Chang Yu confessed to Wang about his identity as an immortal cultivator, Wang had remained cautiously wary.

After all, to Fat Wang, talk of immortal cultivators and immortal arts was all nonsense—just something this ‘lunatic’ Chang Yu imagined.

“Do you know who’s the richest in our city?”

…

Night fell upon the city, cars streamed endlessly, neon lights glimmered, and the city radiated its unique charm.

Young men and women strolled the brightly lit streets, laughing and talking, enjoying the city’s beautiful night.

In the distance, neon lights changed colors ceaselessly, just like the colorful lives of some people.

Chang Yu, now off work, was squatting outside a towering office building, cradling a steaming bucket of instant noodles and eating mouthful after mouthful.

He wore a battered baseball cap, cheap Bluetooth earbuds in his ears, anticipation and nervousness written in his expression, a sharp glint in his eyes.

Though he ate, every few seconds his gaze would wander purposefully toward the main entrance of the office building.

His furtive manner resembled an underground agent seeking contact, one carrying out a vital mission.

Truthfully, Chang Yu did come with a mission—at least, that’s what he believed.

The building he was staking out was the headquarters of Zhao Group, one of the city’s most iconic structures.

Not only was it towering, its interior was luxuriously extravagant.

According to Fat Wang, Zhao Group was one of the city’s largest conglomerates; over eighty percent of real estate business was handled by Zhao Group.

The chairman, Mr. Zhao Dasheng, was universally acknowledged as one of the city’s most wealthy and powerful men.

With a single word, he could sway property prices, altering the fate of hundreds of thousands of homeowners.

Chang Yu still remembered how, when Fat Wang spoke of Zhao Dasheng, his face was masked with envy.

Clearly, even top landlords like Fat Wang had to look up to the achievements of the big real estate moguls.

So, after hearing Wang’s account of Boss Zhao, Chang Yu immediately made a noble, lofty decision.

He would become the bodyguard of the illustrious entrepreneur Mr. Zhao Dasheng.

And not just any bodyguard—but one who was close in body and soul!

To Chang Yu, Zhao Dasheng’s status meant that every movement affected the city’s prosperity and the lives of its people.

A man like him couldn’t afford any mishaps in his personal safety.

If one day, Mr. Zhao decided to take a stroll and, lacking adequate protection, accidentally stepped on a loose manhole cover and heroically fell into the sewer…

The next day, wouldn’t the city’s property prices go wild, galloping out of control?

Then, the hardworking citizens who’d saved for twenty years just to buy a home would be so frustrated they might jump from buildings in despair.

Property prices were already absurdly high—if they soared further, wouldn’t people have to sell their sons and daughters just to afford a house?

So, to protect Mr. Zhao’s life was not only a duty for every man, but a great deed benefitting countless common people!

You could say Chang Yu was lowering himself, willing to be a retainer, a gatekeeper, a lackey—but you couldn’t disdain his noble and glorious mission.

Chang Yu’s willingness to protect Mr. Zhao was purely for the sake of the masses—not because he coveted the money in Zhao’s hands.

Yes, definitely not because he coveted the money in Zhao’s hands.

Let him sacrifice himself for the sake of countless ordinary folk in the city!

He—Chang Yu—could withstand such a test.

With this conviction, Chang Yu headed to the headquarters of Zhao Group right after work, full of vigor and determination.

Originally, he planned to stride right into the building.

Who could have predicted that before he even entered, a crowd of burly, intimidating security guards stopped him.

Each guard was tall and fierce, their gaze toward Chang Yu quite unfriendly.

As if… Chang Yu owed them millions.

After confirming that Chang Yu had no appointment and was just a nobody, the guards promptly kicked him out, showing no mercy.

Poor Chang Yu didn’t even get to see the receptionist, let alone meet Mr. Zhao.

His plan had failed, but Chang Yu, with indomitable will, did not lose heart.

Though he was treated unfairly, he did not abandon his noble mission.

Since he couldn’t get into the headquarters, he would wait outside.

Chang Yu refused to believe that Zhao Dasheng would never leave his office.

As long as he stepped out, Chang Yu would have a chance to make contact.

Slurping up the last of the noodle soup, Chang Yu let out a hearty burp.

Wiping the oil from his mouth, he tossed the empty cup into the trash.

Just then, he spotted a greasy middle-aged man in a high-end suit, carrying a briefcase, with permed, voluminous hair, and a cigarette dangling from his lips, striding out of the building with an air of superiority.

Beside him was a beautiful young woman in a cheongsam, curvaceous and graceful, barely in her twenties, affectionately holding the middle-aged man’s arm, speaking to him in a coquettish tone.

“Heaven has eyes! The target has finally appeared!” Chang Yu quickly pulled out his phone and checked the photo Fat Wang had sent him earlier.

After carefully comparing the man in the photo, Chang Yu confirmed that the greasy middle-aged man was indeed Zhao Dasheng.

The moment wouldn’t last—Chang Yu mustered all his strength and sprinted a hundred meters.

Before the security guards at the entrance could react, he dashed up to Zhao Dasheng and blocked his path.

“Who… who are you?” Mr. Zhao Dasheng was clearly startled by Chang Yu’s sudden appearance.

“I am the one destined to appear in your life and safeguard your safety,”

Chang Yu struck a melancholy pose, gazed skyward at a forty-five degree angle, and delivered his prepared line.

“Uh… I feel pretty safe. I don’t need anyone to protect me.” Mr. Zhao furrowed his half-bald brows and unconsciously stepped back.

For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this young man in front of him… was a bit crazy?