Chapter 6 — Who Is This Bumpkin?

From this, one could infer, indirectly, just how high the salaries at the Gu Group must be. Seen in that light, his own thirty-thousand-yuan salary hardly counted as generous.

Led by Qing Bo, Wei Zhao came to a dark blue Bentley Arnage 728. It was an '06 model, very well maintained. Whether it had been bought recently or simply cared for with unusual diligence, he could not tell; the car looked brand new.

"Mr. Lin, please get in." Qing Bo opened the passenger door and gestured him inside.

"I sit up front? Then what about the young miss later...?" Wei Zhao asked after a moment's hesitation.

"The miss always sits in the back," Qing Bo said. "She has a schoolbag. Sitting up front would be inconvenient."

Wei Zhao nodded and got in. Qing Bo drove slowly down into the underground parking garage. As they passed the security post at the exit, several guards snapped to attention at once, watching the car out with grave faces.

Qing Bo drove with great skill, though it was plain that his was the steady, by-the-book sort, not at all the style Wei Zhao had been taught. What Wei Zhao had learned leaned far more toward racing. He had no choice in the matter: the old man at home had a famous saying, that if you cannot win, that is not your fault, but if you cannot win and cannot even run, then you deserve whatever bad luck comes.

So Wei Zhao had learned a good many escape techniques. True, he had only ever used them on the old man himself; in front of everyone else, it was always the other party who did the running.

"Mr. Lin, can you drive?" Qing Bo asked, glancing at Wei Zhao, who sat quietly beside him, while waiting at a red light.

Qing Bo was an old hand at the wheel and a keen judge of people. Whenever someone sat in his car, he could usually tell from small details whether that person could drive. Wei Zhao, however, showed no particular reaction, which was why Qing Bo had asked.

"A little," Wei Zhao said, thinking to himself that as a newcomer he had better be modest.

"Do you have a license?" Qing Bo did not ask just how much "a little" meant; he knew how much the boss trusted this man.

"Not yet." Wei Zhao shook his head. He could drive, and had even raced cars abroad, but he had no license. "I just turned eighteen. Haven't had time to get one."

"Then give me your ID card. I'll have a license made for you, so that if Mr. Gu and I have something to attend to, you can drive the miss to and from school," Qing Bo said.

The car stopped near a school that looked extremely luxurious, but did not pull up to the gate, probably because the car was simply too conspicuous, and it would not do for the other students to see.

From the files, Wei Zhao already knew that although Songshan No. 1 High School was a private school, it was not the kind of aristocratic academy one might imagine. It was a provincial key high school that admitted students by examination from across the whole province. There was no lack of sons and daughters of the powerful and wealthy who got in through connections, but the great majority of students had earned their places on their own merit.

Backed by three major conglomerates, Songshan No. 1 High School surpassed other schools in both facilities and faculty, which was also why its college-entrance rate had stood at one hundred percent for years.

In truth, Wei Zhao understood that this hundred percent must be padded with some water. Some spoiled rich kids never studied at all, yet in the end they too went to university, on the strength of their families' influence.

The familiar sound of the dismissal bell rang out, and Wei Zhao lost himself for a moment. How many years had it been since he last heard that sound? But the lapse was brief; he recovered himself and watched the school's athletic field with calm eyes.

Before long, students began filing out of the teaching building one after another, some in uniform, some in ordinary clothes. Generally speaking, unless there was some large event, the school made no particular demands about what students wore.

"That's the miss," Qing Bo said suddenly, raising a hand to point at a girl among a group of boys and girls emerging not far away.

Wei Zhao looked where Qing Bo pointed. It was a tall, strikingly beautiful girl. Though there were other girls around her, one glance was enough for Wei Zhao to guess that this must be the young miss.

The old man had said as much before: Gu Mengyao was the school's campus beauty. And a campus beauty, by definition, ought to be the prettiest one, unless there was something wrong with Wei Zhao's taste.

The other girl beside her was also remarkably good-looking, but somewhat petite, clearly not matching the height in the file. Still, she counted as one of the more promising candidates for campus beauty; grown up, she would be the kind to bring ruin to nations.

Gu Mengyao and that girl were walking quickly toward the car, but several young men who looked like rich young masters were chasing after them, refusing to give up.

"Mengyao, wait a moment..." One of the young dandies blocked Gu Mengyao's path. "Mengyao, my feelings for you are genuine. Won't you give me a chance?"

Gu Mengyao frowned, glancing at the young man before her with visible impatience. "Zhong Yongliang, don't you ever get tired of this? I've told you already—I don't like you. Just leave me alone."

"But—" Zhong Yongliang tried to say something more, only to be shoved aside by Gu Mengyao, left standing there awkwardly.

Gu Mengyao strode over quickly, pulled open the car door, and got in. The girl who had been with her climbed in as well, which gave Wei Zhao a start of surprise.

"That Zhong Yongliang is driving me crazy. He pesters me every single day—doesn't he ever get tired?" Gu Mengyao kept grumbling after getting into the car. Suddenly she looked up and spotted Wei Zhao in the passenger seat. "Who are you?" she asked in astonishment.

"Hello, my name is Wei Zhao." Wei Zhao did his best to appear amiable. This young miss seemed to have quite a temper.

"Wei Zhao? Uncle Qing, what does he do?" Gu Mengyao looked at Wei Zhao with a bewildered expression.

"Miss Gu, this is the companion Mr. Gu has engaged for you..." Uncle Qing introduced.

"A companion? Who asked for a companion? Didn't I say I wanted a shield? Look at him—who could he possibly shield me from?" Gu Mengyao grew flustered at once, sizing Wei Zhao up from head to toe. What on earth was he wearing? A sleeveless undershirt and tattered trousers—the whole getup of a migrant worker fresh off the bus into town. Even migrant workers dressed better than he did. Did he think he was performing in a two-man comedy act?

Uncle Qing broke into a sweat. He wiped his forehead and cast a helpless glance at Wei Zhao. Only after seeing that the young man showed no particular reaction did he breathe a sigh of relief. He was the one closest to Gu Pengzhan, privy to certain inside details, and he knew just how much effort it had taken to bring Wei Zhao in—even the old master of the household had been brought into it.

Martial Universe