Relatives in a Foreign Land (1)

The 29th Olympic Games truly belonged to the Chinese people. In just 14 days, China had already secured 39 gold medals, 18 silver medals, and 21 bronze medals, comfortably placing them at the top of the medal rankings. Their performance left the United States far behind with only 8 golds, 2 silvers, and 5 bronzes.

Such a record-breaking achievement shocked delegations from all over the world, drawing their collective attention to China. With several days of competition still remaining, everyone wondered just how far China's medal count would go. For instance, they had just added another gold—Liu Xiang's stunning victory in the 110-meter hurdles.

"Fantastic!"

The crowded hall erupted into thunderous cheers as Liu Xiang crossed the finish line like an eagle soaring past the tape.

In the VIP section, a young man wearing a sun hat shrugged and remarked, "Not bad at all. That makes it 40 golds for China."

The man sitting next to him nodded in agreement. "At last, our people can hold their heads high on the international stage. Take Liu Xiang, for example—after this, no one will ever call him a fluke or a dark horse again."

The young man smirked, raising a middle finger as he wagged it dismissively. "There's no such thing as luck. Every success comes from hard work. I don't know what kind of training Liu Xiang goes through, but the hardships he endures aren't something most people could handle. What we should focus on is his process, not just the result."

"But isn't the process meant to lead to results?" The other man grinned slyly. "Besides, Young Master, are you saying you don't care about results? Don't forget, you bet on Liu Xiang this time."

The young man, clearly Zhuifeng, casually glanced around the room and replied, "Qiu Nuo, you still don't understand me. Sure, I bet on Liu Xiang, but the outcome doesn't matter to me. What I value is the process—supporting Liu Xiang in my own way. During his race, there was nothing I could physically do to help him, so this bet was my way of cheering him on in spirit. And honestly, who cares about such a small amount of money?"

Qiu Nuo was left speechless, giving a wry smile. He had to admit, Zhuifeng had a point—no one would care about such a trivial amount of money. After all, the young master of the Oriental Group had only wagered a measly dime. Who would believe that if they heard it? Even beggars might refuse such a small sum.

"By the way, Young Master, where do we head next?"

Zhuifeng wiped a fine layer of sweat from his forehead and shook his head, indicating he had no idea.

"Young Master, are you feeling alright? You can't get too worked up, or…"

Zhuifeng waved his handkerchief dismissively and turned back with a smile. "Zheng He, why are you acting like a worried old lady?"

Zheng He jiggled his plump figure in resignation. "It's our duty to look after you."

With a sigh, Zhuifeng replied, "I'm sorry for being such a burden to you."

Qiu Nuo rolled his eyes at Zheng He and said, "Young Master, don't listen to him. This isn't about being a burden. Taking care of you is our job, and it's an honor at that. Do you know how many people would jump at the chance to serve you? Being by your side is a testament to our skills and a privilege."

"An honor?" Zhuifeng's lips twitched in disbelief. He figured their so-called "honor" stemmed more from serving his mother than from him personally. Glancing at the two of them and the bodyguards hidden among the crowd, he frowned slightly. "It's too hot in here. Let's head outside."

Thanks to the bodyguards clearing a path, the three of them quickly made their way through the crowd and out of the stadium. However, sweat still drenched Zhuifeng's face.

"Young Master, why don't we rest in the car for a bit?" Zheng He suggested worriedly as he took Zhuifeng's soaked handkerchief.

Looking up at the blazing sun, Zhuifeng nodded. "Let's go get some coffee and cool off."

As Zhuifeng walked ahead, Zheng He pulled Qiu Nuo aside and whispered, "Didn't the young master insist on watching the Olympics? Why hasn't he made any specific plans?"

Qiu Nuo shook his head. "Who knows? But I doubt he's here just for the Olympics. He probably has other reasons."

After a moment of silence, Zheng He gestured to a nearby bodyguard disguised as a tourist. The man hurried over, almost saluting before Zheng He glared at him. "What are you doing? Don't you know that could blow your cover? Didn't your instructor teach you basic discretion?"

The bodyguard sheepishly lowered his hand, clearly uncomfortable in his suit. "Sir, what do you need?"

Zheng He suddenly remembered that these men weren't professional bodyguards or agents from the Ministry of State Security; they were elite soldiers from the special forces. He couldn't help but smile bitterly. These men were unparalleled in offensive missions and would fight to the death to complete their objectives. However, their strict military discipline made them rigid and awkward in more subtle tasks. Despite repeated instructions to blend in, they couldn't fully suppress their military instincts, always saluting him and Qiu Nuo as their temporary commanders.

Rubbing his throbbing head, Zheng He sighed. "Sorry, I forgot about your real background."

The soldier hesitated before replying, "No, sir. It's my mistake. I'll remember the rules next time. What can I do for you?"

Zheng He pointed toward the coffee shop where Qiu Nuo and Zhuifeng had just entered. "The young master hasn't mentioned his next destination, so I can't give you a location to secure in advance. You'll have to be extra diligent in the meantime."

The soldier frowned. "We'll do our best, but…"

Zheng He paused, then asked, "What if we deploy you more visibly to work alongside us?"

After considering it, the soldier replied, "That would increase the immediate security around the young master and buy us an additional fifteen seconds in an emergency. That should give us enough time to locate and neutralize any threat. Once the target is identified, they won't escape."

"You mean not everyone would be exposed?"

"Exactly. Revealing our full force isn't ideal—it's too conspicuous. With three teams totaling 120 personnel, putting everyone out in the open would draw too much attention. Keeping some in reserve ensures better flexibility."

"Good thinking," Zheng He said, clapping the soldier on the shoulder. "With a brain like yours, you could join our line of work."

"Ah, this feels amazing…"

As they stepped into the coffee shop, a blast of cool air greeted them, making Zheng He shiver slightly. The downside, however, was that his glasses immediately fogged up.

"Hey, Fatty, why don't you switch to contact lenses? I've got a bad feeling you'll run into trouble one day with those glasses," Qiu Nuo grumbled, eyeing the fogged-up lenses in Zheng He's hands.

Zheng He chuckled as he carefully wiped the lenses. "I can't bear to part with these. I've been wearing them for eight or nine years now—they've grown on me. By the way, what are you doing here? Where's the young master?"

"Over there," Qiu Nuo replied, gesturing toward a distant corner. "He said he wanted to sit by himself for a while."

Sipping the unsweetened black coffee in his hand, Zhuifeng couldn't help but grimace as his brow furrowed into a tight "川" character. "Damn, this is bitter… but I like it," he muttered. His gaze wandered toward the window, his expression unreadable.

It wasn't until Qiu Nuo came over to get him that he snapped out of his thoughts. By then, the sun was already setting.

"Let's go," Zhuifeng said with a sigh, stretching his slightly stiff body.

The moment they stepped out of the café, Zhuifeng was taken aback by the sight of two rows of black-suited men standing at attention. "What the hell is this?" he asked, frowning. Then, realizing something, he waved dismissively. "Never mind. Let's just get in the car."

Their group already drew plenty of attention, but when eight extended Hongqi sedans pulled up, the passersby couldn't help but stare, their eyes filled with envy and awe.

"Young Master, are we heading back to the hotel, or…?"

Zhuifeng pulled his gaze away from the steering wheel, rubbing his hands together as he answered, "No, we're going here." He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it over.

"This… isn't this the West Mountain Villas?" The special forces soldier, now tasked with protecting Zhuifeng in plain sight, couldn't hide his surprise.

"Yes." Zhuifeng nodded before turning to him. "What's the matter? Is there an issue with this place?"

Zheng He put down his walkie-talkie, having just finished updating the other cars. He grinned. "Young Master, there's no problem with the location itself. The issue is with Pu Shan here—his family lives in that neighborhood."

"Oh?" Zhuifeng raised an eyebrow but still looked confused. "Then why do you look so thrilled, Pu Shan? Don't tell me you haven't been in touch with your family."

Pu Shan stiffened at the question, his face darkening as he let out a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong?"

Zheng He patted Pu Shan on the chest and explained, "Even though I'm in a different department, our lines of work are similar. Everything we do is classified at the highest level. The first rule of joining this profession is cutting all ties, including with family."

"Are you serious?"

"There's no choice," Qiu Nuo said, glancing at the rearview mirror as he drove. "Besides, it's also a way to protect their families. People like us, whether it's them or us, face enemies who are ruthless and dangerous. Instead of risking harm to our loved ones, it's better to sever all contact."

"But don't you still worry about them? Miss them?"

Pu Shan gazed out the window and spoke softly, "Even though we can't be with them, and we don't dare hope for it, just catching a glimpse of them from afar is enough."

The heavy mood in the car lingered until Zhuifeng suddenly broke into a smile. "You guys are my personal bodyguards now, right?"

The others exchanged confused glances, unsure of what he was getting at.

"Ahem… unless I'm mistaken, didn't my mom say this: 'Unless under special circumstances, you're to follow my orders completely.' Isn't that right, Zheng He?"

Zheng He felt a few drops of cold sweat forming on his forehead as he met Zhuifeng's gaze. "…That's…"

"Relax, I'm not asking you to do anything illegal."

"In principle, that's correct, but…"

"Stop with the 'buts,'" Zhuifeng said, pouting. "I've already decided. You're going to give me the addresses of your families."

"Boss, you're not thinking of…" Qiu Nuo's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.

"We're going on a little trip," Zhuifeng said with a grin.

The car fell silent. Zhuifeng's intentions were clear—he wanted to visit their hometowns and see their long-unseen families. Even Qiu Nuo, who was usually as calm as a lake, couldn't hide the flicker of emotion in his eyes.

"Don't get me wrong," Zhuifeng stammered, clearing his throat. "I'm not into that kind of stuff."

The joke fell flat, doing little to lighten the mood. The others' eyes still turned red, but now they carried a renewed sense of resolve and determination when they looked at Zhuifeng.

"Excuse me, who are you looking for?"

The security guard, seeing the group of black-suited men, was visibly nervous. As he spoke, his hand crept toward the hidden panic button.

"Uh… well, um… Young Master, who exactly are we looking for?" Zheng He asked awkwardly. He had noticed the guard's movements and cursed inwardly. Damn it, with so many people in black suits, they looked just like a gang from the movies. No wonder the guard was on edge—especially in this heat.

"Who are we looking for?" Zhuifeng scratched his head. "I don't know his name."

Everyone froze.

The guard grew even more nervous. "You… what exactly do you want?"

"I really don't know his name," Zhuifeng said helplessly, looking genuinely innocent. "I've only ever called him Uncle Wang."

That only made things worse. Qiu Nuo and Zheng He's faces twisted in exasperation. "Young Master, you…"

"What?" Zhuifeng tilted his head. "What's the problem?"

"Nothing," Qiu Nuo sighed, signaling discreetly for the hidden guards to stand down.

Pu Shan, still confused, asked, "What's going on, sir?"

"To avoid unnecessary conflict," Qiu Nuo explained. Seeing Pu Shan's puzzled look, he added, "The person the young master wants to see is a prominent figure. While his security detail may not match the young master's, they're no less formidable. There's someone like me, at the very least."

"And this… prominent figure is…?"

"Who said he's the prominent one? You should be asking about his son."

Pu Shan was taken aback. Even the family of a military district commander wouldn't receive this level of protection. Realizing he was treading into sensitive territory, he decided not to press further. Still, his curiosity was evident.

Noticing this, Qiu Nuo shook his head slightly. Why is it that people never learn? Curiosity can kill. "I'll say this much: the person in question is a researcher. A virus researcher."

Pu Shan's face paled. He knew better than to assume this was about computer viruses.

Seeing his reaction, Qiu Nuo smirked. "Regret knowing this now?" Pausing briefly, he added, "But of course, I've already forgotten what I just said."

Pu Shan exhaled deeply, wiping the sweat from his face. "Sir, you didn't say anything. And I didn't hear a thing."