Chapter One: Encounter with the Eccentric Old Man

“Brother Wang, Dr. Zang, Dr. Liu, Sister Li, Sister Yuan—I’ve finally made it, I’m being discharged! Don’t miss me too much, I’ll come visit when I can, haha.” Liu Jun greeted the doctors and nurses of the hand and foot surgery department with practiced ease. After all, having been in the hospital for over ninety days, he’d grown familiar with the staff.

“Don’t talk nonsense. Don’t come back again, this isn’t exactly a good place,” Sister Li scolded. She was the head nurse of the department.

“The air outside is so fresh. After lying in that little room for months, I was going stir-crazy. I almost became an invalid,” Liu Jun thought to himself as he stood at the entrance of the inpatient ward, gazing quietly at the sky.

Dragging his injured leg, he walked slowly, not letting anyone come pick him up. Even the discharge paperwork was handled by a young nurse at his request. It was his strange sense of pride at work. The car he’d called couldn’t drive into the inpatient area, so he had to wait at the entrance. But that was no big deal; it just made walking a bit tougher, not impossible—nothing to worry about.

He ambled to the outpatient entrance, looked back at the bustling lobby, and couldn’t help but sigh: So many people, you’d think medical care was free. Once in the car, the driver seemed chatty.

“Young man, what happened to your leg?” the driver asked, starting the car.

“Nothing serious, just a fracture,” Liu Jun replied, not in the mood to chat further. Seeing this, the driver fell silent.

Back at his apartment, Liu Jun found the place still quite clean despite being away for months. He tossed the paperwork onto the table, flopped onto the bed, and didn’t want to move. At last, he was surrounded by the familiar scent of home rather than hospital disinfectant. After napping, eating a little, and fiddling with his phone, he drifted back to sleep until dawn.

The next day, Liu Jun sprawled listlessly on the sofa, deep in thought: Five hundred left in his pocket, barely anything in the bank except for annual fees. If there was no new source of income, starving to death in the street was unlikely, but dying of hunger at home was a real possibility. He pictured the news headline: “Man in Local Neighborhood Dies of Starvation at Home Due to Poverty.” The thought was too embarrassing. No, he had to get out and see what work he could still manage in his current condition.

At the job market, he took a look around and realized it wouldn’t work. The physically demanding jobs were out of the question. The ones that required sitting and thinking—he had the smarts, but not the degree. They all wanted at least a bachelor’s, and he didn’t even meet the minimum requirements. He felt crushed. At last, he spotted a job posting: “Luxury Apartment Community Security, seeking guards, technical school degree or above, no tattoos, strong adaptability, easy work, mostly sitting, salary 3,000–5,000.” Wait, wasn’t this perfect? Adaptability—he was sharp enough. No need for much walking. Great.

“Hello, are you hiring? Any other requirements? Do you think I’d be a good fit?” Liu Jun asked the young woman at the booth.

“We are hiring, but your appearance doesn’t meet our standards,” the recruiter replied, eyeing him up and down with a sideways glance.

“Alright then,” Liu Jun said, momentarily stunned. With nothing else to see, he left the job market and wandered out to the street. It was noon. He bought two buns and a bottle of water from a nearby shop, then sat on a bench outside to eat.

As he was eating, an old man sat down next to him. The man had a shifty look but was dressed in an outfit that radiated righteousness—a traditional robe.

“Eating buns, young man?” the old man asked.

Liu Jun glanced at the old man, then at his food, and quickly took a bite out of each bun. With his mouth full, he mumbled, “Yeah, you want one? The shop’s right behind us, I got them there.” As he spoke, Liu Jun drew the buns closer to his chest and scooted a bit away from the old man.

“Relax, I’m not interested in your buns. No need to guard them so fiercely,” the old man muttered, his lips twitching.

“Oh, come on, sir. It’s not like I’m that desperate for two buns. Even if you wanted one, I’d give it to you,” Liu Jun replied calmly, as if he hadn’t just taken a bite out of both buns to mark his territory.

“This little rascal’s shamelessness is almost convincing—if he hadn’t stuffed both buns into his mouth, I might have believed him,” the old man thought.

“Young man, I saw you coming out of the job market earlier. Not in a good mood—didn’t find work?” The old man suppressed his irritation for the sake of passing on his legacy.

“No luck, just not my day,” Liu Jun replied carelessly.

“I actually have a job. Good pay, easy work, not busy most of the time. Occasionally, there are clients and it gets busy for a bit. Are you interested?” the old man offered.

“What kind of job? I’m telling you, I might be poor, but I’ll only sell my skills, not my body,” Liu Jun said, inching further away, his mind conjuring all sorts of unsavory scenarios.

“What is this kid thinking? Heaven help me, should I give up on finding a disciple and just strike him down with a thunderbolt? Is there a problem with the inheritance shell and star chart? How could this brat be my successor?” The old man was torn, torn between exasperation and duty.

“Don’t worry, what you’re imagining is illegal. And look at me—don’t I look upright? How could I ask you to do anything like that?” the old man said, barely containing his anger.

“That’s not for sure. Bad people don’t wear labels on their faces,” Liu Jun retorted, eyeing the old man’s dubious expression.

“Six thousand a month, no fixed days off, but you can take leave if you need to. The job is simple and definitely legal!” The old man decided not to argue and went straight to the point.

“Six thousand a month? Are you sure?” Liu Jun asked, incredulous.

“I’m sure,” the old man replied impatiently.

“Sir, don’t get me wrong—I wasn’t doubting you. I mean, I’m not bad-looking, so a little caution is normal, right? So, boss, when do I start? Where’s the job? What will I be doing?” Liu Jun asked, his tone suddenly humble. After all, six thousand a month—in a small city where the average salary was four thousand, this was even higher than most office jobs. As long as it wasn’t illegal, anything else was fine. For that kind of pay, a little extra politeness was well worth it. As for not being swayed by money—well, that was just for people who hadn’t known real poverty.

“Do you need time to get ready? If not, be at 89 Zhiyang Road at eight tomorrow morning. The job is mainly to receive clients, do some occasional handiwork, run errands, and coordinate between two places,” the old man said, now radiating a dignified, kindly air. He was the boss now—his whole presence had changed.

“Alright, boss. I don’t have much to pack up. I’ll head home now and be there on time tomorrow, no worries—I won’t be late,” Liu Jun replied. As he walked away, he thought to himself: Six thousand a month, two hundred a day—I wish I could start today!