Chapter 151: I Am An Evil Pen (VIII)

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Chapter 151: I Am An Evil Pen (VIII)

Recently, the employees of Wenshang discovered that their president resembled a calla lily in full bloom. He was positively radiant, refreshed, and in excellent spirits. The number of people he murdered with his eyes each day had even dropped from double digits to single digits. Truly, this was cause for celebration throughout the company.

Wen Jingrong sat behind his desk, toying with the evil pen while thinking about his Keke. Ever since Keke agreed to date him, he had stopped insisting on keeping him constantly at his side. He was still somewhat uneasy, but this was the first step toward mutual trust, and he did not want to ruin it. Fortunately, Keke had not disappointed him. He saw him every day when he returned home, and if Shang Ke had something else to do, he would let him know beforehand.

The only slight regret was that Keke still refused to tell him his true identity. But that was all right. Wen Jingrong had plenty of patience.

“President Wen, Mr. Bai from Qingwei is here to see you,” his secretary’s voice came through the intercom.

“Let him in.” Wen Jingrong collected his thoughts and set the pen aside.

Before long, Bai Lin entered the office under the secretary’s guidance.

Wen Jingrong knew that Bai Lin’s visit today had to concern Qingwei’s previous cooperation proposal.

Sure enough, after exchanging a few pleasantries, Bai Lin brought up the proposed partnership and asked why Wen Jingrong had rejected it.

Wen Jingrong replied, “Qingwei has considerable potential and a good domestic reputation, but that reputation extends no further than the domestic market. I investigated carefully. Your current technical and engineering capabilities do not yet meet the standards required for island development. Even with my financial backing, it would be difficult for you to catch up with the major companies in the short term, so your chances of winning the bid are low.”

Bai Lin hurriedly said, “President Wen, with your support, I’m confident we could secure several major contracts. As for technical expertise, we can recruit talent nationwide and rebuild the team. The schedule would admittedly be tight, but meeting the requirements isn’t impossible.”

Wen Jingrong interlaced his fingers and said calmly, “I don’t consider high-risk investments with a success rate below eighty percent, much less one that doesn’t even reach sixty.” With his influence, obtaining one or two contracts would not be difficult, but there would be far too many problems afterward. Delayed construction or substandard work would seriously damage Wenshang’s reputation, and Qingwei was not important enough for him to gamble that reputation on it.

Bai Lin grew anxious. Without Wenshang’s capital and influence, securing the project was practically impossible. Wen Jingrong had clearly seemed interested in cooperating at the banquet, so why had his attitude changed completely after only a few days?

“Since President Wen has his own considerations, Qingwei can only express our regret.” Bai Lin changed the subject with a smile. “President Wen, may I invite you to dinner tonight? President Ge will be there as well.”

In fact, he had never invited Ge Junxuan at all. He merely wanted to use Ge Junxuan’s name to entice Wen Jingrong into accepting.

Wen Jingrong was just about to refuse when his phone suddenly rang. The name displayed on the screen was—

My Darling Keke.

Wen Jingrong’s normally stern expression immediately softened. He answered, “Keke, what is it?”

“I’m about to make lunch. Do you want me to prepare a lunchbox for you?” Shang Ke asked from the other end.

“Of course. I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Tenderness practically overflowed from Wen Jingrong’s eyes, leaving Bai Lin staring in astonishment.

Once the call ended, Wen Jingrong immediately returned to his usual cold demeanor. “Sorry, I already have plans tonight. Perhaps another time.”

Bai Lin clenched his fist, darkness flashing through his eyes as he forced a smile. “In that case, I won’t disturb you any longer.”

After leaving Wenshang, Bai Lin’s hatred for the man named Shang Ke reached new heights. Every single time, Shang Ke somehow ruined his plans at the most critical moment!

One glance at the baleful energy surrounding Bai Lin told Shang Ke exactly how furious he was. Thanks to that anger, Shang Ke actually managed to replenish himself with a little of it. If Shang Ke left Wen Jingrong’s vicinity, he could not absorb baleful energy at all. But from people near Wen Jingrong, he could absorb some as long as their baleful energy was sufficiently concentrated.

Unfortunately, most people produced little to no baleful energy under normal circumstances, and whatever they did produce was usually purified by Wen Jingrong’s good fortune. Shang Ke therefore spent most of his time hungry. Recently, he maintained human form only at night after Wen Jingrong returned home. A moment ago, after noticing Bai Lin’s ulterior motives, Shang Ke had used his power to call Wen Jingrong.

Since he had promised to bring Wen Jingrong lunch, Shang Ke had no choice but to take his true body—the pen—and secretly slip home.

Consequently, when Wen Jingrong tried to sign a document around noon, he discovered that his smartpen had mysteriously disappeared again. He had used it not long ago, so it had definitely vanished from inside the office. Yet aside from several company executives and Bai Lin, no one else had entered all morning. Which one of them would have taken his pen?

While Wen Jingrong was pondering the mystery, Shang Ke arrived at the company carrying his lunch.

Wen Jingrong casually mentioned the missing pen, and Shang Ke smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. He belongs to you. He won’t abandon you and run away.”

Wen Jingrong suddenly leaned closer and asked softly, “What about you? Will you abandon me and run away?”

“Depends.” Shang Ke leaned backward slightly to avoid being hit directly by the radiance of Wen Jingrong’s good fortune.

Seeing this, Wen Jingrong’s eyes dimmed. He assumed Shang Ke still had not fully accepted him and could not help feeling disappointed.

“Stay with me this afternoon. I’ll finish work early and take you somewhere.”

“All right.”

Shang Ke remained in Wen Jingrong’s lounge that afternoon and used the computer to organize the information on the unemployed workers. There were a little over fifteen hundred people in total. As long as fewer than five hundred were eliminated during training, he would meet the mission requirement. The only remaining question would be how to die.

Difficult worlds generally came in several forms. First, the environment itself might be so dangerous that he could die before completing the mission. Second, his assigned identity might have committed so many terrible deeds that Shang Ke had to redeem its reputation. Third, the mission itself might have absolutely nothing to do with dying. In his second world, for example, the System’s mission had practically supplied the completion method outright: donate his heart. In this world, however, his task was to solve the employment problems of a thousand people, something that had nothing whatsoever to do with heroic death. He had to find his own opportunity to die—and the death still had to be “heroic.” The mission appeared simple, but completing it properly was anything but easy.

If Shang Ke were ruthless enough, he could choose to “die” at Wen Jingrong’s hands and use his own life to secure a way out for those thousand people. That could arguably count as the heroic sacrifice of the individual for the many. As this world’s protagonist, Wen Jingrong possessed extraordinarily powerful fortune. Anyone employed under him who performed their duties conscientiously would at least be guaranteed a stable livelihood.

But Shang Ke refused to do that. He would rather take his own life than burden Wen Jingrong with the guilt of having “killed” him.

So perhaps he should deliberately create an enemy for himself? Bai Lin, for example?

Yet before Shang Ke even began creating an enemy, someone lost patience and took the initiative to deliver Heroic Value straight to his doorstep.

Bai Lin had secretly assigned people to monitor Wen Jingrong’s movements in hopes of finding another opportunity to approach him. In the process, he accidentally learned that Wen Jingrong was establishing a handicraft workshop. Such a small workshop hardly seemed worthy of this much personal attention from him. Only after discovering that it was being built for Shang Ke’s sake did Bai Lin finally understand—and become even more resentful.

He had dismissed a project worth billions without a second thought, yet personally involved himself in this trivial venture worth no more than a few tens of millions. Had a profit-driven businessman like Wen Jingrong really been blinded by love?

Bai Lin invited Wen Jingrong out several more times, only to be rejected each time. Once he accepted that cooperation was hopeless, he decided to vent his anger.

He called a friend with underworld connections. “Brother Xiong? It’s Bai Lin. Mm… I need your help with something… Don’t worry, money isn’t a problem…”

Half a month later, the newly renovated handicraft workshop suddenly caught fire. Wen Jingrong was working overtime at the company when he received the news and immediately drove to the scene. Shang Ke arrived before him, because he realized that his opportunity for a heroic death had appeared.

Forty or fifty people had already moved into the workshop building ahead of its formal opening to handle cleaning and look after the equipment. They were resting in their rooms when the fire began. Someone had tampered with the alarm system, and by the time they realized what was happening, flames had already surrounded the building.

When Shang Ke arrived, a sizable crowd had gathered outside to watch. He probed the building with his power and discovered that more than ten people were still trapped inside. Without another word, Shang Ke resolutely charged into the flames beneath everyone’s horrified stares.

Hold on, brothers! Your death-seeking hero is coming!

Shang Ke’s current spirit-formed body was not afraid of fire, but protecting other people from being burned consumed a considerable amount of power. For the sake of completing his mission, he was truly going all out!

A few minutes later, Shang Ke rushed out of the inferno carrying a soaking-wet man on his back. He quickly put the man down and, before anyone could react, turned around and charged straight back into the flames.

The fire raged wildly, waves of scorching heat rolling outward strongly enough to sting even the spectators. Shang Ke, however, moved through the flames like an emissary of fire, fearlessly rescuing one trapped person approximately every three minutes. His figure racing through the inferno left a dazzling streak of brilliance across that crimson world.

One after another, the spectators took out their phones and recorded the astonishing sight, preserving the moment forever.

By the time Shang Ke rushed into the fire for the third time, Wen Jingrong and the firefighters arrived almost simultaneously. The moment Wen Jingrong stepped from his car, he heard the crowd excitedly discussing someone’s heroic actions. At first, he paid little attention—until he caught sight of a familiar figure emerging within the burning building…

“Keke!” Wen Jingrong could hardly believe his eyes. Was that person inside the flames really his Keke?

Wen Jingrong’s mind went completely blank. Without thinking, he immediately tried to charge inside, only for the nearby firefighters to stop him.

But Wen Jingrong was far too quick and skilled for several firefighters to restrain. In the blink of an eye, he broke free, leaving them staring in alarm as he charged into the inferno.

One firefighter reacted quickly and grabbed a hose, soaking Wen Jingrong as he ran.

“Why did you come in here?” Shang Ke glared at the suicidal man before him.

Wen Jingrong was even more furious. You’re the one gambling with your life and you still think you have the right to question me?! Weren’t you supposed to go home and wait for me so we could eat together? Were you planning to serve me grilled human skewers instead?

“I should be asking you that!” Wen Jingrong roughly pulled the man from Shang Ke’s shoulder and shouted in exasperation, “Move! We’ll talk once we’re outside!”

Shang Ke could feel baleful energy surging from Wen Jingrong. Seeing his skin reddening from the heat, Shang Ke did not dare waste time and hurried toward the exit beside him.

Just as they were about to escape the surrounding flames, a section of the suspended ceiling suddenly broke loose overhead and fell directly toward Wen Jingrong.

“Watch out!” Shang Ke shoved Wen Jingrong away with all his strength and was struck squarely by the falling ceiling himself.

“Keke!” Wen Jingrong’s vision went blood-red, his heart almost stopping. He let go of the semiconscious man he was supporting and threw himself toward Shang Ke.

Being trapped beneath the heavy debris did not actually hurt Shang Ke very much. Wen Jingrong’s approach, however, immediately filled him with unbearable pain.

He looked up and noticed sparks catching in Wen Jingrong’s hair. If it kept burning, the man might end up bald—and Shang Ke had no interest in bald men.

Shang Ke took Wen Jingrong’s hand and poured what little power he had left into protecting him from the flames.

A cool sensation immediately spread across Wen Jingrong’s body. The surrounding flames seemed to be held back by an invisible barrier and could no longer reach him.

Wen Jingrong stared at Shang Ke in astonishment and only then realized that the fire seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever. Shang Ke’s pale skin remained completely unburned, a healthy flush visible beneath it. Tiny points of light shimmered among his floating strands of hair, while the flames reflected in his eyes gave them an almost otherworldly brilliance.

“Wen Jingrong, stop staring. Get out of here quickly,” Shang Ke said softly.

“If we leave, we leave together.” Wen Jingrong rose and kicked the debris off Shang Ke with all his strength, then bent down and lifted him into his arms. He was just about to make one final rush for the exit when his arms suddenly became empty. Shang Ke, whom he had been holding only a moment earlier, began dissolving before his eyes like drifting smoke.

A moment later, something fell to the ground with a clatter.

Wen Jingrong looked down and discovered that it was the smartpen he normally wore on his sleeve! His living, breathing lover had suddenly transformed into a pen. Even someone with Wen Jingrong’s extraordinary composure could only stare blankly for several seconds.

He instinctively reached for his sleeve.

Sure enough, the pen was gone.

With trembling hands, Wen Jingrong picked up the smartpen from the ground. His eyes were filled with shock, his thoughts in complete chaos. Then an even greater panic seized him—the pen’s body was gradually becoming dull and stained, losing its former luster as though its life were nearing its end.

【Wen Jingrong, get out of here.】 Shang Ke’s faint, murmuring voice sounded beside his ear once more.

Wen Jingrong finally came back to himself. He carefully tucked the smartpen into an inner pocket close to his body, then hoisted the injured man onto his back and rushed out through the flames…

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