Chapter 147: I Am An Evil Pen (IV)

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Chapter 147: I Am An Evil Pen (IV)

“President Wen, the former employees of Tyson Materials are causing trouble at the construction site. Should we ask the relevant authorities to step in and mediate?” the secretary asked.

“Tyson Materials?” Without even raising his head, Wen Jingrong said, “The factory we acquired last month? Didn’t we already give those workers a substantial severance package?”

“Most of Tyson Materials’ employees have worked there for seven or eight years or more. Now that they’ve lost those jobs, I’m afraid they…”

“The Wenshang Group isn’t a charity. We have no obligation to arrange their futures for them,” Wen Jingrong interrupted indifferently. “Every outdated factory will be reorganized and gradually automated. Cutting redundant labor is inevitable. Call Director Fang and have him deal with it.”

Whenever Wen Jingrong dealt with technologically outdated projects, his reforms were always sweeping and decisive. Once he made a decision, he never second-guessed himself.

“Yes, sir. I’ll arrange it immediately.” The secretary left the office.

Shang Ke separated from his pen body, transformed into an incorporeal figure, and floated out after the secretary.

He had previously seen Tyson’s restructuring plan. After acquiring Tyson Materials, Wen Jingrong had laid off more than two hundred employees outright. Although they had each received a year’s salary in severance, most lacked specialized skills and were relatively old. In an era of sweeping technological advancement, finding new work was extremely difficult for manual laborers.

Shang Ke wanted to investigate the situation firsthand so that he could devise a solution. Although he still had no idea how he was supposed to die heroically over somebody else’s employment problems, he could at least complete the mission objective first.

Tyson’s factory was more than ten kilometers outside the city. To investigate, Shang Ke secretly brought his “body”—the pen itself—with him. If his pen body remained in his contract holder’s possession, Shang Ke could only move within a three-kilometer radius. If he took the pen away from his contractor, that range restriction disappeared. However, he could absorb baleful energy only while near his contract holder. Everyone else’s baleful energy remained completely inaccessible beyond the limits of the contract.

When Shang Ke arrived at the Tyson factory, he found more than a hundred people blocking the entrance and refusing to let Wenshang’s technical personnel inside. The two sides were arguing incessantly, and the scene was chaotic. Before long, a car stopped at the gate, and a potbellied middle-aged man stepped out with several uniformed men before swaggering into the crowd.

Shang Ke guessed that this was probably the Director Fang Wen Jingrong had mentioned. Things might have remained manageable if he had stayed away. The moment he arrived, however, the already furious former employees became even more agitated, and within moments the verbal confrontation escalated into a physical brawl.

Shang Ke swore that the fight had absolutely nothing to do with the appearance of a certain evil pen—or at least, that was what he preferred to believe. Standing quietly in a corner, he allowed the baleful energy churning around him to radiate outward…

“President Wen, something happened at Tyson.” The secretary hurried into the office to report. “We just received word that Director Fang was injured.”

Wen Jingrong frowned, his expression darkening slightly. “Pull up the surveillance feed. I want to know exactly what happened.”

The secretary immediately brought up the factory’s surveillance footage.

Wen Jingrong watched without expression. Halfway through the footage, he suddenly hit pause, his gaze locking firmly onto a figure standing in one corner.

He abruptly stood. “Let’s go. I’m going to the site.”

A trace of surprise flashed through the secretary’s eyes, but he quickly contacted the driver and bodyguards.

Sitting in the car, Wen Jingrong stared fixedly at the footage—or, more precisely, at the young man quietly watching from the edge of the crowd.

Ever since spotting him near the entertainment club, Wen Jingrong had mobilized a large number of people to investigate his identity. Yet several days had passed without a single result. The young man seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving no trace whatsoever.

Just as Wen Jingrong was beginning to lose patience, the young man appeared on this surveillance footage. What connection did he have to Tyson? Was he a former employee, or perhaps a relative of one?

Wen Jingrong pulled up Tyson’s entire layoff roster but found no information matching him. In that case, was he a relative of one of the workers?

“Who’s currently in charge at Tyson?” Wen Jingrong suddenly asked.

“Manager Gao Hong,” the secretary replied.

“Call him. Tell him to secretly keep an eye on this young man and make sure he stays safe.” The young man Wen Jingrong meant was naturally Shang Ke.

“Yes, sir.” The secretary gave Shang Ke several curious looks on the screen before calling Manager Gao as instructed.

Shang Ke had no idea that a certain someone had already spotted him and continued observing the scene.

Just then, a cry of surprise rose from the fighting crowd. Gradually, the brawl stopped, and everyone turned toward the same direction.

Shang Ke sensed a familiar presence approaching. Turning his head, he was startled to see the imposing Wen Jingrong walking straight toward him.

Huh? What is he doing here?

Ignoring everyone’s awed and bewildered stares, Wen Jingrong stopped only an arm’s length from Shang Ke, then addressed the crowd. “I’m Wen Jingrong, president of the Wenshang Group. I understand your situation. Automating the factory is inevitable, and reducing staff is part of that transition. As for all of you, I’ll make other arrangements. For now, remain calm and go home to wait for further notice. Anyone who was injured should report to Manager Gao afterward. We’ll cover all of your medical expenses.”

Surprise and delight flashed across everyone’s faces, and they immediately began asking what sort of arrangements Wen Jingrong intended to make.

“You’ll be notified once we’ve finalized the details.” Wen Jingrong’s gaze was sharp, his tone allowing no argument.

Under his stare, the crowd instinctively looked away and no longer dared press him. Given Wen Jingrong’s position, they doubted he would publicly go back on his word in front of so many witnesses.

Shang Ke could hardly believe it. He had not even begun acting yet, and nearly two hundred employment slots were already halfway solved? Granted, Wen Jingrong was the one actually doing the work.

Once the matter was settled, Wen Jingrong grabbed Shang Ke’s hand. With a curt, “Come with me,” he pulled him into his own car without allowing any refusal. As for the secretary, Wen Jingrong sent him to ride with the bodyguards.

After instructing the driver to leave, Wen Jingrong struggled to suppress his excitement and asked, “Your name?”

Although they had already had sex many times in his dreams, he had never managed to ask for Shang Ke’s name.

“Shang Ke.” Shang Ke frowned slightly. Perhaps it was because they were too close, but the radiance of Wen Jingrong’s good fortune made him extremely uncomfortable. His condensed physical body felt as though countless needles were stabbing into it beneath Wen Jingrong’s aura.

Strange. When he hung from Wen Jingrong’s sleeve in cufflink form, he had never experienced this sharp, piercing pain.

Shang Ke instinctively increased the distance between them. Sure enough, once he avoided physical contact, the pain eased considerably.

Wen Jingrong’s gaze darkened, deeply displeased by Shang Ke’s withdrawal. They had been so intimate in his dreams that Wen Jingrong remembered every part of his body, yet in reality Shang Ke seemingly did not know him at all and even appeared resistant to his touch.

Wen Jingrong pursed his lips. “Were any of those former workers your relatives?”

“No. There were just a few older acquaintances.” Shang Ke currently had no legal identity whatsoever, so naturally he could not reveal much.

“I’ll arrange jobs for those people, as long as you come with me.” Wen Jingrong could tell Shang Ke was concerned about them, which was precisely why he offered the condition so directly.

Shang Ke glanced at him. Setting a trap for me the very first time we officially meet? Someone’s getting more efficient by the lifetime.

“Go with you? Where?” Shang Ke asked calmly.

“Live with me.” Wen Jingrong’s answer was simple and direct.

“…We didn’t know each other before today, did we?” Shang Ke truly had not expected him to be this direct. Was casually asking a “stranger” to move in with him really appropriate?

“We know each other now.” Wen Jingrong made no effort to conceal the intent in his eyes. His scorching gaze swept over Shang Ke’s features before settling on his full, moist red lips. He remembered how deeply he had tasted them in his dreams, how he had kissed them until they grew even more vivid… Heat surged through his body, sending his blood boiling.

The man he had searched for so long in his dreams was finally standing before him in reality. Wen Jingrong could barely control his desire to possess him.

Under Wen Jingrong’s increasingly blatant stare, Shang Ke felt an electric current race through his entire body, leaving him weak at the knees. He barely resisted the assault on his resolve before solemnly demonstrating that neither force nor temptation could make him surrender. “Sorry, I’m afraid…”

Before Shang Ke could finish refusing, Wen Jingrong interrupted him. “I’ll be direct. I fell in love with you at first sight, and I want our relationship to develop further. Living together is the first step toward building that relationship. Whether you agree or not, I’m going to bring you into my life.”

This was unquestionably the most punchable confession Shang Ke had ever heard… If he did not already know how deeply this man was attached to him, that sentence alone would have been enough to banish him straight into the cold palace.

Never mind the fact that Shang Ke was currently a pen demon who could not reveal his true nature. Even if he really were human, there was no way he would agree to something like this less than five minutes after meeting someone. Had this man’s emotional intelligence been eaten by a dog? Could he not try being subtle and romantic just once?

“President Wen, you’re moving a little too fast. I can’t keep up.” Shang Ke was not particularly worried. After all, with one little biu, he could turn right back into a discreet and elegant evil pen.

“That’s all right. I’ll bring you along.” Wen Jingrong slipped an arm around Shang Ke’s lower back and naturally pulled him into his embrace, as though he had rehearsed the movement countless times before.

The instant Wen Jingrong’s arm touched him, that needle-like pain erupted again. Shang Ke jerked violently and immediately retreated, breaking free of his embrace.

Wen Jingrong’s expression darkened. Seeing Shang Ke resist him so strongly sent a surge of barely controllable anger through him. He could ignore rejection from anyone else in the world—but not from the person standing before him!

Shang Ke’s scent, touch, and presence had already seeped into his soul, becoming an addiction Wen Jingrong could not quit.

Wen Jingrong abruptly pinned him against the car door, bent down, and kissed him, almost greedily biting at his lips.

Shang Ke was trapped in the cramped space, his bent legs forcibly pushed apart by Wen Jingrong’s hot body.

Wen Jingrong stared straight into Shang Ke’s eyes with a beastlike intensity, pressing their lower bodies tightly together. Through their clothing, Shang Ke could clearly feel the hard outline of his erection and its scorching heat against the inside of his thighs.

But Shang Ke was in no mood for passion. The radiance of Wen Jingrong’s good fortune felt like countless blades slicing through his body.

Pain twisted Shang Ke’s expression. He shoved an arm between them to force Wen Jingrong away while simultaneously kicking toward his abdomen.

Wen Jingrong caught his ankle and pulled. Shang Ke’s body abruptly slid downward until he lay across the seat, his legs spread to either side of Wen Jingrong’s waist.

Seeing the disheveled young man beneath him, Wen Jingrong suddenly remembered the times they had sex in a car within his dreams. The dream and reality seemed to overlap, except that in his dreams Shang Ke had responded to him intimately, while the real Shang Ke was clearly resisting his advances. The fear and pain on the young man’s face made Wen Jingrong’s heart clench, as though the treasure he had cherished so carefully now regarded him as an enemy.

Wen Jingrong desperately suppressed the violent agitation surging through him. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his usual controlled depth had returned.

He helped Shang Ke sit back up and straightened his disordered clothes. Then he said quietly, “Come home with me.”

His tone was gentle, but the command beneath it allowed little room for refusal.

Looking at the man before him, Shang Ke finally began to understand. The difficulty of this world did not lie in the mission—it lay in Wen Jingrong. In previous worlds, Shang Ke could soothe the violence buried inside his man with tolerance, affection, and his own passionate body. In this world, however, he had no choice but to keep him at a distance.

The radiance of Wen Jingrong’s good fortune did more than cause Shang Ke pain. It was actually burning away his life force. The closer Wen Jingrong came, the faster Shang Ke’s vitality was consumed.

He could die anywhere, in any manner, through any accident—but he absolutely could not die by this man’s hand and leave Wen Jingrong burdened with the guilt of having killed him.

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