SATC C4

Chapter 4 – Devil’s Whisper

That night, Ling Yibo made his point loud and clear.

As soon as Ling Feng and the others left, Chu Yang turned his head and saw Chen Jiali and two other subordinates standing awkwardly on the marble steps, not knowing what to do.

Behind the three of them, the heavy front doors were shut tight — not even the tiniest gap.

Chen Jiali gave up resisting and just shrugged at Chu Yang, while the other two kept knocking on the door in a steady rhythm, stubbornly refusing to give up.

It didn’t take much guessing to know — Ling Yibo had locked them out.

On the early summer coast, night rain pattered down. Lights glowed like the moon of the human world, casting a soft sheen that blurred the sea in a thin layer of mist.

“No need to keep knocking.”

Chu Yang motioned them over and quickly arranged things:

“Tonight we’ll take shifts. Jiali and I will cover the first half; you two take the second. If you’re sleepy, go sleep in the car. There are spare windbreak jackets in the trunk — grab one to cover yourself.”

He pointed as he spoke. “Alright, small matter. Don’t just stand there — move.”

Aside from Ling Yibo’s luxuriously modified MPV, there was also a black “Dark Knight” Urus parked in the villa garage, a gift for someone’s eighteenth birthday. The car was nearly new, spacious enough for two people to sleep in comfortably.

He knew that because… they’d done it before.

One time, a power cable got cut and the property management couldn’t restore electricity in time — rare for the capital. Ling Yibo knew Chu Yang was afraid of the dark and said, “Then let’s go sleep in the car.”

It wasn’t even a suggestion. He just dragged Chu Yang to the garage. Seeing Chu Yang hesitate like he was on guard, Ling Yibo had said, “If you’re worried I’ll try something, I’ll sleep in the front passenger seat. You take the back. I promise I won’t touch you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Chu Yang had said.

But Ling Yibo, pushing his luck, slung an arm around him and sat down in the back seat anyway. And surprisingly — he really did behave, leaning on Chu Yang until dawn, when the property manager and housekeeper showed up at the door apologizing and bearing gifts. They’d knocked, but no one was home.

Chu Yang, arm numb from being leaned on, had answered the phone softly: “Just leave the apology gift in the foyer.” Hanging up, he had nudged Ling Yibo awake. Ling Yibo, eyes still closed, had murmured, “Actually… a blackout’s not so bad, right?”

Chu Yang had chuckled faintly, saying nothing.

Back then, he hadn’t understood why the young master liked sticking to him so much. Who was guarding whom, exactly?

When buying that car, Ling Yibo had insisted on being “low-key,” choosing an all-black exterior. But the interior? A flamboyant apple-green. Chu Yang had teased, “So… is this color scheme supposed to make you look secretly flashy?”

Ling Yibo had been perfectly frank: “I’m never secretly flashy. If I’m flashy, it’s in your face.”

And now…

The car was still spotless after all these years. Which meant in the past three years, Ling Yibo had hardly driven it — treating it like a treasure. The interior still held the faint scent of new leather.

Now, they could hardly communicate without butting heads. Hard to say whose temper was worse. Only in small details could they catch glimpses of the missing three years in each other’s lives.

After all the fuss, it was already late. To avoid being half-asleep during the second shift, Chu Yang urged the two subordinates into the car to rest.

The rain had lightened, and the sea fog began to thin. Bored, Chen Jiali, tired from hours of standing, shifted around and finally squatted beside Chu Yang, lowering his voice.

“Yang-ge, why can’t we tell Ling-zong about getting locked out?”

“No need.”

Chu Yang sounded a bit weary. “Even if Ling Er gets scolded by his dad, he still wouldn’t let us in.”

He didn’t add: And then he’d know we tattled — and you’d be the one to suffer for it.

Best not to let the newbie learn just how difficult the young master could be.

Chen Jiali sighed, covering his face.

“Man… this second young master’s rebellious phase is long.”

“I’m used to it,” Chu Yang said. “He was like this when we first met.”

“I heard he personally asked Ling-zong for you. And yesterday, you’re the only reason he agreed to leave with us. Shows he still thinks highly of you. So why’s he targeting you now?”

“Because when he asked for me, he thought he had plenty of ways to make me pack up and leave. Ling-zong’s other people have been with him over a decade — way harder to get rid of than me.”

To Chu Yang, it wasn’t impossible. Feelings fade; old memories get replaced by new ones. He’d been gone three years, and Ling Yibo’s world was lively enough. Any bond between them could vanish in a blink.

Once you trip over that string, the string itself disappears.

The first time they met, Chu Yang was nineteen.

Ling Yibo was sixteen, still in high school, holding an extravagant graduation party at the top-floor executive lounge of a luxury hotel in the capital.

Glittering lights, champagne glasses clinking, music thundering — Chu Yang had been shoved in by Uncle Sen with the words, “Just stand here and keep an eye on the Second Young Master.”

Second Young Master? Who?

Uncle Sen pointed — That one.

It was a young face, still green but already sharp. The teenage Alpha was the center of attention, eyes narrowed from the haze of smoke, chin tilted, voice already deep and magnetic from a completed voice change.

“Uncle Sen? What are you doing here? This my new bodyguard? Nice-looking. Come join us!”

Back then, Chu Yang was young and had never seen such a scene. He froze in place, unsure how to respond — but at least he didn’t foolishly join in. He simply stood there, watching, guarding.

And that had gone on… for years.

“Yang-ge, you really think fast,” Chen Jiali said. “I’d never have guessed he asked for you just to get rid of you sooner.”

Chu Yang only hummed in reply.

Ling Yibo had eight hundred tricks in his head — plenty you’d never see coming.

And Chu Yang didn’t say more. No point scaring the kid off. Some things, he could shoulder himself.

“Scheming to lure the tiger away from the mountain… pretty vicious,” Chen Jiali muttered.

“Don’t gossip about the boss — not even the young boss,” Chu Yang said, watching raindrops ripple in the puddles at their feet.

“Not even in private?” Chen Jiali grumbled.

“Walls have ears. If you’re taking over my shift someday, the first thing you learn is to keep your mouth shut. If you must talk, do it only in front of me.”

Chu Yang paused. “Truth is, Ling Er’s personality is very black-or-white. Sure, he’s mischievous, but he’s fair with rewards and punishments, and he’s forgiving of mistakes. As a boss, not bad. But he doesn’t like stupid people. As long as you’re not foolish, he won’t punish you over small things.”

Chen Jiali nodded earnestly.

“Alright, enough thinking.”

Chu Yang handed him a soda, patted his back. “Break’s over. I’ll take the northeast corner, you take the northwest. Report any movement.”

Adjusting his earpiece and mic, Chu Yang strode off into the villa’s shadowy corner.

That morning, Yu Shui saw no sunrise after the heavy fog — just a glaring white sun hanging over the bay in silence.

Chu Yang, arms folded, sat in the passenger seat, waking naturally with his body clock.

He got out, checked the perimeter, retrieved their luggage from the trunk, and rinsed off in a drainage ditch.

“All clear,” came a voice in his earpiece.

“Come rest in the car,” Chu Yang replied. “Jiali, take the northeast corner.”

Once alone, he let himself squat down and rub his aching lower back. Hours of standing still had left him sore — while Chen Jiali had been pacing back and forth in front of him like a diligent security guard, making him dizzy.

Just then, the villa door opened.

The culprit emerged, looking refreshed — clearly his lonely night hadn’t been unpleasant.

Judging by his face, Ling Yibo had slept well. Radiant, in a fresh set of clothes.

“Hey,” Ling Yibo squatted down lazily. “Do you have to work this hard? I thought you’d do like three years ago — just walk out. Go crying to Ling Feng…”

The nasty remark trailed off.

Chu Yang, still bleary-eyed, asked, “You came out to open the door… just to say that?”

“Then what should I say? Ask why you’d turn your back on me and still agree to come back?”

“For the money,” Chu Yang answered instantly.

It was the answer he’d rehearsed ten thousand times — fluent beyond fluent.

“Beautiful.” Ling Yibo almost clapped for him.

Chu Yang had no desire to keep sparring. Rising, he glanced briefly at the crown of Ling Yibo’s head and said quietly, “Excuse me,” brushing past as he issued orders into his mic.

That’s when he noticed the small silver stud on Ling Yibo’s left earlobe — fresh enough to be a bit inflamed. It added a rebellious edge to his look.

He itched to take it off.

“You’re sharing a room with another Alpha?” Ling Yibo suddenly asked, watching Chu Yang’s long fingers on the mic.

“We shared a room overseas,” Chu Yang said curtly, continuing his assignments. “Li Guanqi and Zhou Du take the third-floor attic.”

Their voices overlapped on the comms — playful, argumentative, youthful.

By the time Chu Yang reached the stairs, Chen Jiali had already wheeled in all the luggage.

“Second Young Master, excuse us!” the kid even called out cheerfully.

Ling Yibo crossed his arms and nodded slightly — formal enough to count as acknowledging the new hire.

The room Chu Yang shared with Chen Jiali was on the first floor — a converted double maid’s room, cramped, beds side by side, with a tiny bathroom.

The villa’s basement housed a lavish home theater, a wall of rare liquors in a glass cellar, and a gym beneath a skylight. Above it, a black stone garden waterfall trickled down.

Most striking was the giant built-in aquarium that spanned two floors — designed with an Atlantis theme, dark and majestic. Coral and anemones clung to ruins, a trident jutted from the sand.

It reminded Chu Yang of Ling Yibo’s old home in the capital — a design he’d once sketched himself and handed to Chu Yang, asking, “Missing anything?”

Chu Yang, imagining the ocean, had said, “Add some coral or anemones. Even ruins have life.”

Outside, the vast pool bordered the beach, secluded yet offering views of the sunset-orange sea — and of the villa’s second floor, where Ling Yibo’s private suite occupied the entire level.

After touring, the guards retired to their rooms.

“Man, this place is huge,” Chen Jiali said, stripping off his shirt. “I don’t know if I’m sweating from being poor or from walking so much.”

Chu Yang, rare to join in small talk, replied, “Work hard and you could have one someday.”

“Nah, I want to save up to study more.”

He eyed his wet uniform from last night. “Yang-ge, my shirt’s still drying — can I wear a T-shirt today? They won’t dock my pay, right?”

“No.”

Chu Yang was glad his own soaked clothes had been a casual disguise, quickly bought at a mall in under fifteen minutes.

Now in a crisp white shirt, black slacks, polished shoes, he smoothed his shirtfront — but the creases wouldn’t go away. He froze.

“The part-time cook isn’t here yet… I think I forgot to ask Ling Er what he wants for breakfast.”

It was already eight. The dining room table had been spotless earlier, and Ling Yibo hadn’t looked like he’d eaten.

This villa, Ming Shui Bay No. 1, sat south of Yu Shui, right on the Bohai coast by the Lianfeng Mountains. Surrounded by lush landscaping and no delivery riders in sight, breakfast wasn’t going to be simple…

🌊 Fun Facts & Notes:

• “黑武士 Urus” — “Black Knight Urus” is slang for a Lamborghini Urus with an all-black exterior. Very flashy despite the name.

• Atlantis aquarium — In China’s luxury real estate, massive themed aquariums are a status symbol. The “trident” detail ties to Poseidon/sea mythology.

• “非黑即白” — Literally “either black or white,” describing someone’s extreme, uncompromising personality.

• Cultural note: The scene with “小老板” (young boss) shows the delicate hierarchy — you don’t badmouth even the junior family members; loyalty is everything in such circles.