Chapter 18: Let's Eat Before We Fight

Nine o’clock in the evening, at Le Xiaotian’s home.

Pushing open the bathroom door, Le Xiaotian stepped out in a white bathrobe, exhaling deeply—nothing felt better than a fresh shower.

“Boss, dinner’s ready,” called out the three beautiful maids as soon as they saw him, their eyes darting over his form with veiled curiosity.

Aware of his exceptional charm and striking looks, and the fatal attraction he held for women, Le Xiaotian smiled slightly. “Let’s all eat together.”

After all, when you possessed the artistic wealth of an entire planet, it was only natural to carry yourself with a touch of arrogance; Le Xiaotian was no exception.

Hearing the invitation, the three maids didn’t hesitate, taking their seats at the table with him.

Though their days were long, spent cooking and cleaning with considerable effort, the three were happy with their work. Not only did it come with a high salary of thirty thousand plus commission, but it also allowed them to stay close to the boss, even handling his laundry.

Surveying the table heaped with dozens of dishes, savoring the rich aromas, Le Xiaotian began his second dinner of the evening. “How are you all adjusting? Should I hire a few more people?”

As they served him, the three maids answered in unison, “We’re used to it, not tired at all.”

Who would willingly give up the chance to share a roof with the boss?

Guessing their little schemes, Le Xiaotian refrained from pressing further. If he hired any more beautiful women, the house would get crowded. That would mean buying a larger place and moving—a waste of precious time.

Just as he took a second bite, his Banana 7 phone rang.

Xiangxiang was the first to react, quickly rising to fetch the phone.

Taking it from her, he saw an unfamiliar string of numbers on the screen. It wasn’t saved in his contacts, but he remembered clearly—it belonged to Brother Hao’s manager, who’d called three days prior.

He answered. “What, has your Brother Hao changed his mind?”

The manager’s voice was low. “The deadline has passed, but Brother Hao has instructed me—there’s a special offer for you. If you’re willing to sell us the full rights to one of your famous songs, we’ll call it even. Otherwise…”

Le Xiaotian had already sent Su Yun back to her hometown, warning her parents—whom he’d never met—as a precaution in case Lan Cang acted rashly.

Yet, before the first broadcast of the radio drama “The Perfect Myth,” before “Journey to the West” even aired, and with “Cloud Palace Overture” just recorded, trouble had already found him in the form of the local bully.

No plan, however flawless, could anticipate every turn—the hand of fate always played its tricks.

Accepting a cigar lit by Xiaomei, Le Xiaotian laughed. “So, there’s no chance for a peaceful resolution? Well, since you haven’t barged into my house, I suppose that’s some respect. Why don’t you all come up for dinner first, and we’ll fight afterward?”

Brother Hao’s manager replied, “No need. Meet us at Dalan Alley in an hour. This is your final chance. Think it over.”

“Fine. I’ll finish my meal and be right there,” Le Xiaotian responded, hanging up.

As soon as he ended the call, Xiangxiang, Xiaomei, and Qiuyan all looked at him worriedly. “Boss, are you going to fight?”

Though they’d worked there for days, the three women still didn’t know exactly what their boss did. Singer, host, musician, conductor, producer, martial artist, dancer, writer, screenwriter, director—he did it all. In short, he was a superstar genius of the new age.

Handing the cigar to Xiaomei to set aside, Le Xiaotian resumed eating. “There’s a card in the second drawer of the TV cabinet. No password—it has a million inside. Later, go stay at the Beihai Grand Hotel. I’ll contact you after tonight. If you don’t hear from me, split the money among yourselves.”

Qiuyan stepped forward, concern etched on her face. “Boss, have you run into trouble? Should we call the police?”

Le Xiaotian ate as he replied, “No need to trouble the officers with something this small. I’ll handle it myself.”

Seeing that his mind was made up, the three women refrained from further persuasion. Despite their harmonious relationship, Le Xiaotian was, after all, the boss, and their bond wasn’t yet intimate enough for more.

After he’d finished eating and drinking, Le Xiaotian rose and slipped off his bathrobe. “Bring me some clothes.”

His physique was not that of a bodybuilder, but the smooth lines were strikingly perfect. The three women blushed at the sight.

It was clear—they needed to seize a chance to become the boss’s wife.

He dressed, selected a few knives and throwing daggers, and then led the three women out.

Downstairs, a six-door stretch luxury car was already waiting. The service was impressively swift; in less than ten minutes, the car had arrived. He made a mental note to use this company again next time.

With the three women in the back, Le Xiaotian gave the driver their destination. “Dalan Alley first.”

The driver’s expression changed slightly—Dalan Alley was infamous, the perfect spot for a street brawl, the graveyard of many a skilled fighter. And yet this young boss wanted to go there?

Nevertheless, the driver quickly replied, “Understood, sir,” and raised the privacy screen.

In the rear, as an opulent orchestral-electronic track played, Le Xiaotian sipped his wine with utmost calm.

Xiaomei, noting his composure, felt no excitement at riding in such a luxurious car for the first time—only growing anxiety. Unable to help herself, she spoke up. “Boss, are you sure you’ll be alright?”

Her words drew reproachful glances from Xiangxiang and Qiuyan. If nothing were wrong, would the boss send them to a grand hotel? Give them a card with a million inside?

Snapping out of his thoughts, Le Xiaotian smiled at Xiaomei. “If in doubt, flip a coin.”

Naive as she was, Xiaomei actually rummaged in her purse and produced a coin.

Clutching it, she muttered, “I’ll guess heads. If it lands heads, the boss will be alright.”

But just as she was about to toss it, she drew her hand back. “Too risky. I won’t flip it.”

Le Xiaotian couldn’t help but laugh. Xiaomei, Xiangxiang, and Qiuyan were all young, much like himself, and had never faced true adversity; their nerves were understandable. Even he felt a twinge of tension—the only “bloody” work he’d done lately was butchering chickens and fish at the farmer’s market, not people. But he was much better now.

Putting down his wine glass, Le Xiaotian lit a cigarette. “Truly, there’s no need to worry. If something really does happen to me, at least you can see to my funeral, can’t you?”

Tears welled up in Xiaomei’s eyes. “Don’t say that! Boss, you must come back. If you do, I’ll sleep with you.”

Meeting Le Xiaotian had altered the course of her life. He was talented, charming, strikingly handsome—and, most importantly, single. For someone Xiaomei’s age, how could she not be moved?

The same went for Xiangxiang and Qiuyan. They promptly raised the stakes. “Boss, you have to come back. If you do, we’ll all sleep with you.”

Narrowing his eyes and raising his brow, Le Xiaotian flicked his cigarette ash. “You’re all too wicked! I’m such a pure person—I don’t want to be led astray. But, a promise is a promise. If I make it back alive, I won’t accept anything less than sharing one blanket.”

“How did you know that’s exactly what I intended?” one of them teased.

“I know which finger you’re moving without even looking—is that so hard?”

“Anyone with eyes could tell which finger you’re moving,” another chimed in.

“Ahem, let’s not debate such things. Honestly, your comfort isn’t very sincere—the boss is getting angry.”

Joking and laughing, the four of them continued as the luxury car drew ever closer to their destination.