# 121
Chapter 121
Three Snowmen
“Qiye, why did you ask Handsome to protect me?”
In the dimly lit street, Baili Pangpang leaned close to Lin Qiye’s ear and whispered.
“Right now both of us are prime targets. If I stay beside you all the time it’ll only make things more dangerous, and when Cao Yuan loses it he can’t tell friend from foe…
Bottom line, you need a normal person next to you—and he has to be a top-tier one.”
Baili Pangpang slapped his thigh. “Smart move!”
Shen Qingzhu, trailing at the back with his hands in his pockets, was staring at the stars; nobody knew what he was thinking.
Suddenly he stopped.
“Hey, Fatty.”
Baili Pangpang glanced back, grinning. “I’m your employer now—can’t you use a nicer name?”
“…Baili Tuming.” Shen Qingzhu drew a slow breath. “Let’s talk. Advance me one day’s pay.”
Baili Pangpang raised an eyebrow. “What for?”
“Don’t ask. Just say yes or no.”
Baili Pangpang looked at Lin Qiye, who gave a slight nod.
“But I don’t have any cash on me…” Baili Pangpang scratched his head.
“I’ve got three hundred—enough?” Cao Yuan suddenly offered.
“Enough. Hand it over.” Shen Qingzhu nodded eagerly.
Cao Yuan passed him the last three bills. Shen Qingzhu turned and walked back toward the noodle stall. In the murky light the other three watched him re-enter that shabby shop.
He said something to the owner, added a pork chop and an egg to each of his three helpers’ bowls, then gave all the money to Deng Wei, murmured a few words, and jogged out again.
“Let’s go,” Shen Qingzhu said calmly.
The trio exchanged glances, kept silent by mutual understanding, and headed out of the alley.
“The hotel got blown up… where do we sleep tonight?” Baili Pangpang asked dejectedly.
Cao Yuan, cradling his sabre: “Find a temple and crash?”
“…This is a modern city. Where am I supposed to find a temple at midnight?”
“True.”
Lin Qiye pondered. “I know a place. Follow me.”
He led them along several deserted lanes to a run-down little motel in a backwater street.
Pink and violet light leaked from the windows onto the low doorway. The four looked up at the faded, garish sign:
“Dream Butterfly Lodge… Love Hotel?!”
Baili Pangpang felt his butt clench. “Qiye, are you serious?”
“Few places in Cangnan City let you check in without ID. This one’s cleaner than most,” Lin Qiye said mildly. “If you’d rather not, we can sleep under a bridge.”
“…This’ll do.”
They pushed in. As Lin Qiye had said, no registration was needed and plenty of rooms were free. Just as Baili Pangpang was about to book three, Shen Qingzhu spoke:
“I’m sharing with you.”
Baili Pangpang: “Huh?!”
“Body-guard means body-guard. Separate rooms are too risky. You take the bed, I’ll take the floor,” Shen Qingzhu said matter-of-factly.
Baili Pangpang: …
“In that case I’ll join,” Cao Yuan added placidly. “Three people—perfect for a round of Fight the Landlord.”
“Er—”
“Settled.”
Before Baili Pangpang could protest, the other two picked a room. They climbed the stairs; every step produced a tortured creak.
On the second floor, faint… indescribable sounds drifted from nearby rooms.
Shen Qingzhu froze, a faint blush on his cheeks, but still marched ahead with head high.
Cao Yuan lowered his head and muttered “Amitabha.”
Baili Pangpang stared at them, incredulous.
“Don’t tell me you two are still…”
“And you’re not?”
“Joke—when I was seven I already…”
“Here.”
Shen Qingzhu unlocked a door. A musty smell wafted out. He frowned, entered, and scanned the window for watchers before drawing the curtain.
The room was small, two beds. The ceiling lamp, coated in grime, bathed everything in pink light—ambience decidedly awkward.
“Two beds for you; I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Baili Pangpang nodded. “Cao Yuan, which bed—huh?”
He looked back: the corridor was empty.
Downstairs.
“Hi.”
“What d’you need?”
“Do you have… y’know, something exciting three people can play?”
“Well… depends what kind?”
“Poker cards.”
“…”
……
Once Baili Pangpang was settled, Lin Qiye slipped out of the motel like a night spectre and drifted toward Hongying’s house.
Snowflakes began to fall, dotting the silent street.
Lin Qiye caught one on his palm and watched it melt.
After a long silence he shook his head helplessly.
“Can’t build a snowman with you this year, A Jin…”
Ten minutes later.
“Qiye, what took you so long?” Hongying bounced off the sofa. “Another minute and I’d have gone looking!”
Wen Qimo, sprawled nearby, yawned. “I swear, she mentioned your name two hundred times in half an hour.”
Lin Qiye scratched his head sheepishly. “Went for late-night snacks… sorry, Hongying.”
She sighed. “Fine. Off to bed. Wen Qimo, keep an eye on him!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Another yawn. “With me in the living-room, no one’s getting past.”
Hongying glanced outside and grumbled, “Captain and that old dog Xiangnan ran off—no loyalty!”
She stomped to her room; Lin Qiye smiled wryly and went to his.
Click—lights out; the villa sank into darkness.
Outside, the night stretched vast, snow swirling.
Cold wind swept sleeping Cangnan, driving flurries between the buildings.
A hundred metres away, on the church roof, Leng Xuan lay motionless, sniper rifle in hand, a statue keeping watch.
Crunch—footsteps on snow. He spun, then froze.
“Aren’t you cold in this weather?”
Chen Muye, cigarette in mouth, strolled over and sat beside him.
“No,” Leng Xuan answered quietly.
“Brought you a coat.” Wu Xiangnan, wrapped in black, settled on his other side and draped the coat over him. Gazing at the villa, he smiled faintly.
“Not going home to sleep?” Leng Xuan asked.
“Can’t.”
“Hmm.”
“Hear Qiye helped the fatty fight today? How’d he do?”
Leng Xuan’s lips curled. “Good. He’s stronger now—might beat even me.”
“Is that so…” Chen Muye chuckled. “Nice.”
“Mm.”
“You’ve watched all day. We’ll take the night shift.”
“No need. No stamina, no sniper badge.”
Wu Xiangnan and Chen Muye exchanged wry smiles and said no more.
Silence settled over the rooftop.
The three men sat unmoving, guardians of the city, while snow piled thicker on their shoulders.
Gradually they became three snowmen,
silent sentinels beneath the dead winter sky.