But William Smith himself never thought of himself as particularly noble. His salary had gone up from eight hundred to over a thousand yuan, plus he occasionally got tips from the girls and the boss. Damn, that was several thousand yuan a month—he could almost count as white-collar now. In his memory, he’d never seen so much money! When he was a monk, he had no concept of money at all; the largest bill he recognized was the one-yuan note in the temple’s donation box. When he was a soldier, the most he got was a 45-yuan monthly stipend. But for him, wherever he went, food and lodging were provided, so money was never really useful. It wasn’t until he entered society that he realized what he truly needed.

He felt that his happy life was just beginning to get interesting! Now his ideals had changed a lot—he was working hard to save money, thinking about when he might find a place and a wife, have a bunch of kids. Why have kids? He hadn’t figured that out yet. Herd sheep? There was nowhere to do that now. Be a monk again? He was afraid he’d get kicked out of the temple. But that was for the future; first, he had to find a wife.

Chapter 04: Why the Beauty Has an Appointment

After William Smith finished his shower, it was already past noon. Today’s unexpected events had disrupted his well-kept routine. Normally, he would go to sleep right after his morning workout and not get up until after noon.

The whole afternoon was free time for him, but he usually spent it at the gym or fishing in the nearby river, doing whatever, until after seven when he officially started work. Here, they basically belonged to the “three-no’s” crowd: no identity, no family, and not many friends. Plus, work at the karaoke club was often flipped between day and night. Sometimes, when business was good, it wasn’t unusual to pull several all-nighters in a row, which further limited his social time.

His living place was also very simple. Downstairs was full of stuff left by the original landlord, untouched. Upstairs was where he lived. Besides a set of sofas left by the landlord in the living room, the bedroom was William Smith’s private space. Just like when he was a monk or a soldier years ago: one bed, one table, one clothes rack. There wasn’t even a decent quilt on the bed, just a piece of nailed-down leather. On the rack hung a set of military uniforms—the only memento from his time as a soldier—a set of work clothes, which looked like the uniforms worn by city management officers, not quite blue, not quite gray. Under the rack were his combat boots, which had been with him for many years. By rights, they should have been retired long ago, but army-issued stuff was just that good; after years of wear, only the soles had started to come apart. As a keepsake and his only real possession, William Smith kept them.

He picked up his phone, an old NOKIA 5110. It was ancient, but still worked great. Hold it to your ear and you could make calls; throw it and it was heavy enough to use as a brick. He saw there were six missed calls. William Smith checked—he didn’t have many friends in Fengcheng, so it wasn’t hard to guess who had called.

The first was Grace, her stage name. Her real name was Qi Yujiao, known as the “Star of the Karaoke Club” in Jin Xiu. Rumor had it she was somehow related to the female boss and also managed the club’s business. William Smith couldn’t say if she was a hostess or a singer, a boss or just a worker, but she was good-looking and quite popular in Jin Xiu. She often called William Smith “husband” and referred to herself as his wife, but it was all just talk—nothing real had ever happened between them.

The second was George Clark. When William Smith first met him, he was a small-time thug and one of the people who encouraged William Smith to become a security guard at the karaoke club. Later, somehow, he used his connections to get a temp job at the Urban Construction Bureau. Now, dressed in a city management uniform, he looked every bit the part of a government official. But while his status had changed, his nature hadn’t. Even now, he still had ambiguous relationships with several of the club’s hostesses. William Smith figured the reason he’d been encouraged to join the club in the first place was probably to make things easier for George Clark himself.

The third was his boss. No matter which karaoke club it was, the bosses cared about nothing but making money and keeping a tight grip on security. In name, they were security guards, but in reality, they were more like the boss’s private muscle, handling all sorts of shady business. If the boss didn’t keep a close eye on them, things would get out of hand.

……

As expected, the first call was from Grace. She knew his routine best, and every time he woke up, the first call he got was always from her. William Smith pressed the send button and called back.

“Aiyo, William Smith gege, you’re getting big-headed now—how come you don’t even answer my calls!” A sweet and coquettish voice came through the receiver. This was Grace’s signature sound, said to have charmed countless men. But even after hearing it for half a year, to William Smith it still felt like the first time—his skin crawled every time.

“Didn’t hear it, I was showering,” William Smith replied casually. In his eyes, Grace was just a bit young. He’d only helped her out by slapping a few punks who bullied her, and that had landed him with a bigger headache than the punks themselves.

“Need someone to scrub your back? Want me to come over? Heh…” Grace was as cheeky as ever, always seizing the chance to tease William Smith.

“Cut it out, stop talking nonsense. What’s up?” William Smith flopped down and said.

“So mean, is that how you talk to me?” Grace pouted again.

“Don’t be so mushy. If there’s nothing, I’m hanging up.” William Smith had no patience for her.

“Wait! I do have something!”

“Then why didn’t you say so earlier!”