# 418
Chapter 418 – Young Master Jing’s Friendship
Vroom—!!
The roar of engines sliced through the air as a plane descended, touching down smoothly on the tarmac.
“Dear passengers, we have arrived at Qingyun Airport, Guangzhou-Shenzhen. Please collect your belongings…” The melodious voice of the flight attendant echoed through the cabin. Lin Qiye followed the long queue off the plane, through the jet bridge, and into the arrivals hall.
After retrieving their luggage, the four of them stood at the exit, staring at the endless line of taxis, and fell silent.
“Qiye, what now?” Cao Yuan couldn’t help asking. “Hotel first or straight to the Baili Group? We don’t know Guangzhou-Shenzhou at all—what if the cabbies rip us off?”
Lin Qiye gazed at the river of cars and sighed.
According to the original plan they weren’t due until tomorrow noon; Baili Pangpang had arranged a pick-up. By arriving a day early without notifying the Baili Group, they’d stranded themselves.
It wasn’t the cab fare that bothered Lin Qiye—it was that the Baili empire sprawled across so many properties he had no idea where to find Baili Pangpang.
While they stood there clueless, a black stretched Lincoln glided to the curb. A handsome man in a tailored suit and white gloves stepped from the driver’s seat and strode toward them.
“Excuse me, are you Captain Lin Qiye?”
Lin Qiye blinked.
From that single sentence he gleaned two facts: the stranger knew his name, and knew he was a special-team captain. Yet their team didn’t exist in any Night Watch file; only the highest echelons of Night Watch were aware of them, let alone his role as leader.
“You’re from the Baili family?” Lin Qiye frowned.
The only person who might know his identity was the chairman of Baili Group, one of Night Watch’s honorary senior officers—Baili Xin.
As a top Night Watch official and Baili Pangpang’s father, Baili Xin could plausibly know of their covert squad.
“Indeed. I’m Young Master Jing’s steward, Chang Kangsheng.” Seeing Lin Qiye’s puzzlement, Chang smiled. “Young Master Baili Jing is the adopted son of our chairman and the younger brother of the Little Master. When the old chairman is occupied, Young Master Jing oversees all group affairs.”
Lin Qiye nodded thoughtfully.
“But we agreed to arrive tomorrow,” An Qingyu interjected, eyes narrowing. “We gave no notice—how did you know we’d come today?”
Chang’s smile never wavered. “The moment your tickets were booked, Young Master Jing learned of your travel plans. Fearing you might feel lost on arrival, he sent me to greet you.”
Lin Qiye’s brows knit tighter.
The gesture was courteous, yet the feeling of being watched grated on him. Still, the young master was Baili Pangpang’s brother; he said nothing.
“Fine.” Lin Qiye nodded.
Chang loaded their luggage, and they climbed into the Lincoln. The interior was roomier than expected—two long leather sofas and even an ornamental fish-tank. Every fixture screamed money.
Jialan perched on the edge of a sofa, fingertip tapping the glass as she tracked the goldfish with wide eyes.
Chang buckled in. “Young Master has prepared accommodations. Shall we head there now?”
Lin Qiye hesitated, then nodded. “Please.”
The car glided off, vibrationless. Classical music drifted from high-end speakers, wrapping them in concert-hall ambience.
Lin Qiye watched the city slide past. “Has Baili Tuming reached Guangzhou-Shenzhou yet?”
“Little Master flew in yesterday,” Chang replied. “Didn’t he tell you? His phone may be off—he’s been swamped receiving VIP guests.”
“Safe is good.” Relief loosened Lin Qiye’s shoulders; he leaned back and closed his eyes.
“Why is Young Master Jing hosting us instead of Baili Tuming’s people?” An Qingyu asked suddenly.
Lin Qiye’s eyes snapped open.
Chang blinked. “Little Master is buried in tomorrow’s birthday banquet prep—he probably forgot. He’s always been scatterbrained. And he and Young Master Jing are close; his friends are Jing’s friends. Naturally Jing takes it seriously.”
An Qingyu’s gaze narrowed, but he asked no more.
Half an hour later the Lincoln halted before a five-star hotel. Doormen swept forward to take their bags.
“This is one of our group’s flagship properties—the city’s top luxury hotel,” Chang explained, ushering them into an elevator. Reception staff met them with key-cards; check-in was skipped entirely.
Through the glass walls the night skyline of Guangzhou-Shenzhou unfolded beneath them.
The elevator stopped at the 88th floor—an entire level devoted to a single suite.
“Young Master Jing reserved our premier presidential suite. Money alone can’t secure it; only our most honored guests qualify.”
Chang swiped a black-gold card. Lights flared on automatically, revealing a glittering palace of a suite.
He stepped aside, smiling.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you have earned Young Master Jing’s friendship—hence you are the Baili Group’s most distinguished guests!”