Silent Reading 默读 [BL Novel by Priest]

Chapter 1-10

The delivery guy was a young fellow, around twenty, brimming all over with youth. He came into the coffee shop with the golden evening light. His skin was dark. He smiled, showing off a mouth full of small white teeth, and gave the barista a lively greeting. "Hello, beautiful! You're looking happy today. Business must be good?"

The barista just took her monthly wages without paying attention to how the coffee shop's business was going. Hearing this misplaced flattery, she waved a hand, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. "It's all right. Get to work now. When you come out I'll pour you a glass of ice water."

The young delivery man gave a joyful cry and wiped a sheen of sweat off his forehead. At the corner of his forehead, there was a small crescent moon-shaped scar, like a Justice Bao with his prop stuck on crooked.

In the time it took the barista to make the customer's order, the delivery guy had cleared his manifest in one fell swoop and come to report back. He leaned on the counter waiting for water and chattily asked, "Beautiful-jiejie, do you know what building Chengguang Mansion is in?"

"Chengguang Mansion?" The barista thought it sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite remember, so she shook her head. "I'm not sure. Why?"

"Oh..." The young delivery man looked down and grabbed the back of his head. "No reason. I heard they were looking for delivery people."

The barista wasn't paying much attention and didn't notice his uncertain little gestures. Putting a lid on the paper cup, she casually said, "I can ask around for you.—Your drink, sir. Careful, it's hot."

Maybe the coffee-buying customer had nothing to do. He looked at the young delivery guy and idly put in a few words. "Chengguang Mansion isn't in a commercial building, it's a private club out back. What, are they still looking for delivery people? Why don't I take you there on my way?"

The barista finally noticed something was off and doubtfully looked at the young delivery man. "A private club?"

The young delivery man saw that his lie had been exposed, made a face, and, taking his cup of ice water and shipping manifest, ran off in a flash.

Out back of the brightly lit heart of the East District's commercial center, there was a large swath of man-made greenery and landscape. A kilometer into it, you would find the deluxe residences of the elite strewn indistinctly throughout the heart of the landscape.—They had to build their residences here, because "solitude" itself wasn't worth any money; it was only "finding peace in noisy surroundings" that was worth money.

All kinds of luxurious grounds of different degrees of style were arrayed fanning out from the landscape's perimeter. "Style" was the axis: the more expensive were further in, and the cheaper were forced out closer to the street.

Among them, the best, most expensive, most "stylish" piece of land was Chengguang Mansion.

This place's owner was not only rich; as pretensions to culture went, his achievements were profound. The little courtyard had been renovated in the style of the ancients. At a glance it looked like a protected Cultural and Historical Site. It had been completed not long ago, and in order to show it off the owner had invited a group of wealthy and estimable friends to come and have a look. Some came to socialize, some to discuss business, some simply to support their clique. There were quite a few who had sniffed out the event and had come to join in the fun, planning to use their faces and bodies as tickets. The parking lot was full luxury cars of every description, and a festive scene out of Vanity Fair had been set up.

When Fei Du strolled over, he had already finished his sticky sweet cup of coffee. He heard from far off the sound of music and voices in the courtyard. He tossed the paper cup into a trashcan by the road, then heard someone nearby give an off-key whistle. "President Fei, over here!"