Chapter 3: The Hidden Master

"In truth, I understand even without her saying so—what she values has never been my money, but myself." With that one sentence, Fatty Wang left Chang Yu gritting his teeth in disbelief.

They were both security guards at the same gatehouse—what money could Fatty Wang possibly have? Was Chang Yu supposed to forget that Wang made only two thousand yuan a month?

Chang Yu shot Wang a sidelong glance. "She can't stand you, so why do you keep pestering her?"

Wang cleared his throat. "Young people like you are too thin-skinned. Which real man doesn't face setbacks pursuing the woman he loves?"

"Being rejected is nothing. The real principle is to regroup and keep chasing. Perseverance will eventually pry open the oyster shell, revealing the tender flesh within."

"Brother Wang, just say it—who is she?" Having listened to Wang's boasting long enough, Chang Yu was losing patience.

In the two years since he’d started working, he’d never noticed any cleaning lady growing close to Wang. It was hard to guess. In Chang Yu’s innocent mind, the only women in the company who could be a match for Wang, the lowly gatekeeper, were the cleaning staff.

"You know Vice President Yao, right? That’s your sister-in-law!" Fatty Wang squinted his eyes with pride, his tone dripping with bragging.

"Yeah, right!" Chang Yu didn't believe a word. "Vice President Yao has money, looks, everything. Why would she like you?"

"Is it your twenty thousand a year she likes, or your rolls of fat?"

Of course Chang Yu knew Vice President Yao. She was one of the top figures in the company—a successful career woman. Though no longer young, she was still beautiful, a true woman of lingering charm.

"I’m telling you the truth. Why would I bother lying to you?" Fatty Wang protested.

"Anyone who makes it to vice president earns at least a million a year. You’re a security guard—how could she be interested in you?" Even for a tall tale, this was too much for Chang Yu.

"You underestimate her income—it’s actually 2.35 million a year," Wang corrected him. "Xiao Yu, don’t look down on us guards with prejudice."

"So what if I’m a guard? Is a guard not allowed to marry a rich, beautiful woman and reach the pinnacle of life?"

"Wake up, Wang. The sun’s up. If you must keep dreaming, go back to sleep—anything’s possible there," Chang Yu retorted, determined to expose Wang’s lie.

"I’m not making a bet here, but if Vice President Yao ever falls for you, I’ll gouge out my own eyeballs and eat them without blinking!"

Chang Yu wasn’t just being argumentative. Why would a highly paid, beautiful executive ever fall for a guard earning barely over twenty thousand a year? Was he supposed to believe his own twenty failed blind dates meant nothing?

"I knew you wouldn’t believe me," Wang said, snuffing out his cigarette. "That’s why, after all these years, I’ve never mentioned your sister-in-law to you. Some things are just too unbelievable to tell."

Finding little amusement in the conversation, Wang let the matter drop.

Time hurried by, and soon the workday was ending. One by one, cars with all kinds of logos drove out of the company courtyard, and Chang Yu and Wang were entering their busiest time.

Just then, a red Audi sports car rolled up to the gatehouse. Chang Yu instantly recognized Vice President Yao’s car.

What a coincidence, he thought. Wang had just been boasting about her, and now here she was.

Chang Yu grinned mischievously and pointed outside, deliberately provoking Wang. "If you dare call her 'wife' to her face, I’ll believe everything you’ve said. But I bet you don’t have the guts!"

"Why wouldn’t I?" Wang said, holding his cigarette between his fingers as he exhaled a plume of smoke.

With that, Wang leisurely opened the window and called out, "Wife!"

The sports car screeched to a halt, the window rolled down, and Vice President Yao’s mature, elegant profile appeared.

"Is there something you need?" she asked, shooting Wang a glare but not rebuffing his teasing. Chang Yu was so stunned his jaw nearly hit the floor.

Everyone knew Vice President Yao wasn’t one for jokes—no one dared joke with her, at least not that Chang Yu had ever seen.

Could it be… that she really was Fatty Wang’s wife?

That’s quite the feat, brother!

"Nothing much, just wanted to chat," Wang replied, not mentioning the bet with Chang Yu, grinning broadly.

"Nutcase," Yao muttered, rolling her eyes. She was about to drive off when she seemed to remember something.

"Oh, Wang, the tenant in unit 58 asked me to tell you he can’t pay this month’s rent today. He’s asking for a two-day extension until he gets paid."

"No problem," Wang waved dismissively. "He’s an old tenant—I’ll give him a few days."

"And the tenants in units 47 and 39 wanted to let you know they’ve already transferred this month’s rent to your account—keep an eye out for the bank notification..."

"I’ve told them time and again—rent must be paid on odd or even dates, not just any day," Wang grumbled, genuinely annoyed, his brow furrowing.

"Today’s an even date—why are both odd-numbered tenants paying today?"

"And I’ve stressed it before—rent should be transferred via WeChat, not directly to my bank account."

Vice President Yao sighed, a trace of exasperation on her face. "Why do you have so many weird rules? Can’t you just have everyone pay on the same day?"

"And what’s the difference between WeChat and a bank transfer? It’s not like they’re paying you any less."

Wang grinned. "Wife, you just don’t understand. Collecting rent properly is a man’s romance!"

"Your husband may not be good at much, but when it comes to collecting rent, I’m the best in the business."

"In this city, I’m the most professional landlord there is—my deepest expertise since childhood has been the art of collecting rent!"

"Rent collection is all about ceremony. Gathering it all in one day is soulless, lacking any sense of ritual."

"After all, my greatest joy each morning is opening the WeChat red packets my tenants send, one by one!"

As he spoke, Wang pulled out his phone, and in front of both Chang Yu and Vice President Yao, he unlocked WeChat with his chubby fingers.

He opened several unread messages in order, and a series of gleaming red envelopes appeared on the screen.

"See? Opening these WeChat red packets from my tenants one by one always brings me satisfaction and happiness," Wang said, his face alight with pleasure as he quickly collected the red packets.

Chang Yu was speechless.

Those must be today’s rent payments. Chang Yu immediately noticed each red packet was over four thousand yuan, with five in total—more than twenty thousand altogether.

That was an unimaginable sum for Chang Yu. He’d never seen so much money in his life.

What really made his head spin, though, was the contact notes on Wang’s WeChat—84, 108, 120, 184, and 240. Just as Wang had said, all the tenants’ numbers were even.

As Chang Yu stared, his breathing grew heavy and his eyes gleamed with golden light.

What a wickedly addictive little pleasure!

"Fine, play your games however you like. I give up—you’re beyond help," Vice President Yao sighed, rolling up her window and driving off.

Once her sports car had disappeared, Wang turned to Chang Yu. "Well, did I lie? She really is my wife. Even that Audi she drives—I bought it for her."

Suppressing his envy, Chang Yu finally managed to say, "Brother Wang, I’m not even interested anymore in whether Vice President Yao is your wife."

"I just want to ask—are you the legendary landlord people talk about?"

Wang nodded awkwardly, even seeming a bit shy. "It’s really not a big deal."

"I’m not that capable, just fortunate enough to have inherited over two hundred properties in this city from my ancestors."

"My greatest daily pleasure is sipping tea and collecting rent. It’s much more fun than going to work."

"Technology these days is amazing. Collecting rent is just a matter of a few taps on your phone. So convenient!"

"When I was young, it wasn’t like this. There was no WeChat, and I had to collect rent in cash, door to door."

"Back then, I’d run from house to house every day, lugging piles of cash that left my arms aching."

Chang Yu was dumbfounded.

Owning over two hundred properties and being exhausted just from collecting all that rent—how much money would it take to tire Wang out like that?

What a thing to envy!

"Brother Wang," Chang Yu said, "You really are a hidden dragon. With all that wealth, why bother working as a lowly guard?"

"With so many houses and rent coming in every day, you could live a life of leisure even if you never worked again."

Wang pulled out a cigarette and handed one to Chang Yu. "A person needs a proper job, or life gets too dull."

"And besides… if I didn’t experience life among ordinary people, how would I ever know just how rich I am?"