Chapter 32: It’s All About the Aura

Is this really Chen Aijia? No, this is Chen Aijia from yesterday, the Chen Aijia of the daylight hours. The Chen Aijia of last night died the moment the sun rose. The one in the sunlight, perhaps, is the truest Chen Aijia; that bewitching woman from the night before was merely her in a state of somnambulism.

Sometimes, being a beautiful boss is truly something to pity, tsk.

Yang Changfeng mused, refraining from bantering with the exhausted, pale-faced Chen Aijia. The sun had come up, and it was time for him to resume his role as a humble security guard in the big city.

The car cruised slowly from the garage to the gate. Chen Aijia yawned again, wiping the corner of her eyes with a wet tissue, instantly restoring the poise of the formidable woman so many people knew her to be. She pulled open the back door and took her seat. Though her complexion was poor, she still mustered the dignity of a boss.

"In the Security Department, you need to stay composed. They’re all veterans of the company, and Wang Hu has been the head of security for nearly ten years. Don’t get into any fierce conflicts with them just yet," Chen Aijia said, glancing through a file as she spoke.

Yang Changfeng replied with a simple acknowledgment.

A faint smile played at the corner of Chen Aijia’s lips. She shot a quick glance at Yang Changfeng, who was driving with focus, and teased, "What’s this? Have you just remembered that I’m the boss and you’re the employee?"

Yang Changfeng sighed. "When you’re under someone else’s roof, you have to bow your head. What else can I do? It’s hard to bite the hand that feeds you."

"Is that so? Seems you’ve finally come to your senses. I thought that after cozying up to Young Master Sun, you’d be soaring high by now," she mocked, her lips curled in contempt.

Lately, she’d found herself growing fond of this gesture; sometimes, it had become her signature move—her exclusive signal toward Yang Changfeng.

Whenever she thought of him, she couldn't help but make that face. Only that expression seemed adequate to convey her loathing and disdain for this bastard.

Yet Yang Changfeng responded with a merciless snicker.

He retorted, "Isn’t cozying up to the powerful something your kind does best? I just think that kid’s all right. Arrogant as he seems, he knows his limits."

Of course, the urge to let loose on the racetrack was a big reason he’d agreed to Young Master Sun’s invitation. But that was something Chen Aijia didn’t need to know.

She would never believe how freewheeling Yang Changfeng used to be; to her, he probably hadn’t even laid eyes on a high-end race car.

Him, racing?

If Young Master Sun doesn’t lose his shirt, it’ll be a miracle!

"I know you’re just jealous, so I won’t rub it in," Chen Aijia said disdainfully. After a brief pause, she continued, "But if you’re really going to race with Young Master Sun, I suggest you don’t overdo it. Do you have any idea how fierce those underground racers in Jiangzhou are? If he loses money, fine, but if he loses face, things might get ugly. He won’t let you off easily."

After saying this, and recalling how much she owed him from the night before, she softened a little. "I’ll call him later and tell him not to bother preparing any race cars. Safety comes first. Boasting a little won’t hurt; at worst, you’ll get laughed at. You’ve got nothing to lose."

No way!

Yang Changfeng replied, "You’d best stay out of this. In Jiangzhou, anyone who dares to put so much pressure on a renowned boss like you has to have serious backing. No one would believe otherwise. Let Young Master Sun save a little face—it’ll make things easier when you reorganize the company. At least he’ll owe you a favor. If things ever get desperate…"

Chen Aijia frowned, catching a hint of departure in Yang Changfeng’s words.

"What, my company can’t keep you fed?" She snapped her file shut and berated him, "Your aunt’s ideas may be a bit off, but she meant well—she wanted to see you employed. Does my company mean so little to you?"

This time, her anger was real.

How could he be like this? Never mind the money—wasn’t even the position the company offered him enough? One ought to know contentment. If he’s so reckless, not only racing against underground drivers but also thinking of abandoning a job that pays tens of thousands a month, does he think he’s some headhunted executive?

Yang Changfeng fell silent for a moment, then said quietly, "Once I’ve solved your company’s problems, I’ll have to leave. Otherwise, it won’t be long before you regret it."

He was a king of soldiers, with enemies all over the world. His return to the city didn’t mean he’d severed ties with his old life. Now that word was out that he’d left the army, plenty of foes would be after him.

Staying by Chen Aijia’s side would put her in great danger.

He knew better than anyone how ruthless and cunning his enemies could be.

He couldn’t stand to drag others down with him.

But Chen Aijia misunderstood, sneering, "Who do you think you are? A tycoon? A political heavyweight? Or some pretty boy who turns girls’ heads with a look?"

She thought he was arrogantly warning her that, if they spent enough time together, she wouldn’t be able to live without him.

Yang Changfeng offered no explanation—he saw no need. Some things, a king of soldiers must keep to himself. Once spoken aloud, they weren’t worth dwelling on. He had his pride.

Seeing that Yang Changfeng said nothing, Chen Aijia moderated her tone, though she remained cold. "Like it or not, I’ve said my piece. I can offer you stability here, but if that’s not enough for you, there’s nothing more I can do."

"Enough! Not another word!" Yang Changfeng snapped, suddenly agitated. A surge of fear welled up within him.

If his enemies came to Jiangzhou and found his trail, Chen Aijia would inevitably be drawn in. Living in her home, accompanying her everywhere—she’d be the first target. It would hurt him and sabotage her company in one blow.

Wang Hu had to be dealt with, and soon!

His thoughts jumped abruptly from his enemies to Wang Hu. If Wang Hu were to be contacted by his foes, things would get even more complicated.

He had to speed up his actions against Wang Hu. It was for his own sake, and for Chen Aijia’s.

Startled by Yang Changfeng’s sudden outburst, Chen Aijia felt an inexplicable pressure. He hadn’t raised his voice, but she was left speechless.

Something wasn’t right—his presence.

Yes, his presence. There was something unsettling about it, something that always left her unable to confront him in a crisis. It was a presence she found infuriating, yet oddly captivating.

A faint panic rose in her chest. Unable to help herself, she stole another glance at Yang Changfeng.

He didn’t seem to be bluffing. His face was drawn tight, his eyes fierce—a look not found in ordinary men.

For a moment, Chen Aijia was truly at a loss.