Chapter 55: Master and Servant

Chapter 55 Master and Servant

As the signal linking to the Night Owl scouts cut out, the surveillance feed projected onto the floor-to-ceiling windows vanished simultaneously, revealing the bewitchingly beautiful nightscape of the city beyond.

The constantly flashing red and blue neon lights reflected in Gu Yong's black pupils, exuding a scent of rampant desire.

"Gu Jia, the man you picked has quite the temper."

Gu Jia stood behind Gu Yong with lowered brows and downcast eyes; a knife scar that had yet to heal ran from the corner of his eye to his jaw, adding a touch of ferocity to his already rugged features.

"A bit too much. Want me to go cool him down, young master?"

Gu Yong flicked his wide sleeve and laughed dismissively, "No need. How can a man without blood in his veins charge into the fray for us? He's a martial brute; it's understandable. 'All the world's injustices, I settle with a single fist'—isn't that what they used to love saying?"

"Besides, you used someone else to catch the fish at Songpan Guard; if he isn't allowed to vent this spleen, he won't serve us with peace of mind."

Gu Jia's face showed worry, "But if he faces no punishment, won't he think his promotion to the Martial Eight Group makes him untouchable, and act even more recklessly in the future?"

"Li Jun doesn't have that capability yet."

Dressed in the robes of a Confucian scholar, Gu Yong walked with measured steps to the desk, rolled up his sleeves, and picked up an ink stick, grinding it slowly and deliberately in the inkstone.

"The great aristocratic clans of the Northern and Southern Direct Territories keep many a jianghu refugee from years past; almost all are from orthodox sects of impeccable lineage. None of them could turn the tide—they can only honestly live under others' roofs as house slaves. What waves can a mere Martial Eight stir up?"

Gu Jia flattered, "The young master speaks the truth; the depths of the jianghu cannot compare to the reach of the court; the Martial Orthodoxy is a thing of the past."

"However, the death penalty may be spared, but the living penalty cannot be escaped."

Gu Yong's tone suddenly shifted, "He did break the group's rules, after all. Once the recommendation is over, implant a bio-chip in him and sell him off to the North. Those young masters and misses of the great clans love keeping a pet like that."

"Implanting a chip pollutes the pure flesh and blood, severing the path of martial advancement; the price will likely be halved."

"Don't fixate entirely on money; safety comes first. The goods we Shu Dao Logistics sell must absolutely have no safety hazards."

"The young master's lesson is learned; my vision was still too shallow." Gu Jia cupped his fist and bowed, nodding repeatedly.

Gu Yong's grinding motion suddenly paused, a mocking smile tugging at his lips, "Besides, I hear men of the Martial Sequence are quite formidable in the bedchamber; that would add a bit to the price, no?"

Gu Jia laughed heartily in perfect cooperation, stepped to the desk, and asked softly, "Then how do we reply to the main family? Qian Jindong is the Chief Steward's nephew; we can't just leave it without an explanation."

Gu Yong didn't care, "How to reply—didn't Li Jun already think of it for you? Just the charge of colluding with Tianfu Heavy Industry to betray us is enough for Qian Jindong to die a hundred times over."

"Just afraid the Chief Steward won't believe it."

"Don't believe it?" Gu Yong snorted coldly, "Then let the main family send someone to investigate thoroughly. Ask that old geezer if he dares."

A trace of regret flickered in Gu Yong's eyes, "A pity Li Jun struck too heavy a hand, beheading him in one stroke. Otherwise, extracting Qian Jindong's consciousness and throwing it into our private prison... we might have pried out something interesting."

Hearing the words 'private prison,' Gu Jia felt a sudden chill run down his spine; his already stooped back forcibly bent a few degrees lower.

An aristocratic private prison—a man-eating place.

"But this Security Department of yours really needs a thorough cleaning."

"Tianfu Heavy Industry has four Action Offices; though there is trash like Luo Shihu who bought his way in with treasure notes, they are ultimately Sequence Eight Followers. Look at your men—what sort of goods are they?"

"This subordinate knows his error, knows his error."

Reprimanded, Gu Jia looked aggrieved, "But Young Master Yong, you know the main family—anyone with a shred of status likes stuffing their relatives and cronies into the group."

"If we refuse them all, they'll surely wag their tongues at the main family; this subordinate was only worried it would affect your reputation."

A sharp glint flashed in Gu Yong's eyes, "So by your logic, I should thank you for sharing my worries?"

"This lowly one dares not; the Security Department is now a mix of dragons and snakes, all my dereliction of duty; I am willing to accept punishment."

Gu Jia's voice trembled with fear; his knees bent, and he dropped straight down to his knees.

"Enough, none of that act."

Gu Yong barked, his tone softening as he soothed, "The Security Department isn't your fault; the main family dumps people on us, you have to take them."

"But right now the recommendation is the top priority; the trash in the Security Department must be cleaned out. If it delays the main family's great undertaking in Shu Bei, none of us will escape the consequences."

Gu Jia's face grew grave at these words; he probed, "Has the matter in Shu Bei been confirmed?"

"The main family has already sent people to verify; it is indeed a slice of that Zhuangyuan Lang's brain tissue."

By now, ink had been ground in the inkstone; Gu Yong took up the brush, dipped it, spread the raw xuan paper, sank his wrist, and let the brush fall—dragons and snakes in motion, completed in one breath.

Gu Yong admired his work, laughing, "This is a fine thing that even Great Ming Treasure Notes cannot buy."

His laughter held deep meaning; Gu Jia immediately looked up at the desk, only to see a single, sinewy character—"Struggle"—floating on the pale yellow xuan paper.

The character reflects the man; Gu Jia instantly understood in his spirit, smiling, "Such a fragile thing—if parts are lost in the struggle, the main family won't blame us, will they?"

Gu Yong nodded, "They won't. Young Master Gu Xi is a reasonable man. And with his talent, using this brain tissue slice is merely icing on the cake."

Gu Jia chuckled, "Since that's the case, we can let loose."

"Gu Jia, do you know what I value most in you? It's that loyal heart and righteous courage of yours."

Gu Yong set down the brush, raising his eyes to gaze at the old servant standing respectfully before him.

"This old servant is willing to serve as the young master's vanguard, to spill my brains and smear the ground, to die ten thousand times without regret." Gu Jia's expression was solemn.

Gu Yong walked with hands clasped behind his back to the floor-to-ceiling window, pausing to stare at the gloomy wind and rain outside.

"I, Gu Yong, have yearned all my life for the Way of the Confucian Sages; alas, my aptitude is insufficient, and I can only enter the Confucian Sequence by relying on the Six Arts Chip."

"I willingly threw myself into this merchant path reeking of copper, concealing my light and biding my time for so many years, all for the day I might change my aptitude and return to officialdom."

In Gu Jia's eyes at this moment, the scholar in Confucian robes suddenly emanated an inexplicable flame.

It was resentment against Heaven's injustice, unwillingness against his own fate.

"This time, as long as you handle things well, when I return to the main family, will be the day you, Gu Jia, take charge of Shu Dao Logistics."

Gu Jia's square face flushed red; he cupped his fist and declared loudly, "This old servant will never disappoint Young Master Yong!"