Chapter 40

Chapter 40

"I'll inform Mr. Shen right away." A Sang pulled out his phone, ready to call Shen Mo. "...And I'll call a few bodyguards to give him a good beating."

A hand pressed down on the phone. A Sang froze as the call he had just dialed was abruptly cut off by Jiang Yao. "Butler Jiang?"

Jiang Yao wiped his forehead, blood staining half his brow. Only then did A Sang realize Jiang Yao's injury looked worse than he had thought.

"I'll call a doctor immediately!" A Sang said urgently.

Jiang Yao shook his head gently. "No, it's not serious. It just looks bad."

Eamon watched Jiang Yao with trepidation. In truth, he regretted throwing that punch the moment it landed. The man before him was Shen Mo's butler—someone even the people in Country G treated with respect.

A wave of fear washed over him, but when he noticed Jiang Yao didn’t seem keen on escalating the situation, a surge of anger flared up again. People of status cared about appearances—and those appearances were nothing but burdens.

"The Shen family approved my resume and invited me to Country G for an interview, yet they didn’t even give me a chance to participate! I came here for a job, not to be made a fool of for some measly travel expenses!" Eamon shouted. "Give me an explanation! Otherwise, I’ll post this online! I’ll let everyone know what kind of butler you really are—"

"Fine." Jiang Yao seemed to have been waiting for Eamon’s words.

A Sang: "Huh??"

The system chimed in, "Host, leave this to the professionals."

Jiang Yao wiped the blood from his forehead and gestured for the group to follow him. "Mr. Eamon wants fairness? Good. I’ll do my best to give you fairness."

The car headed back, leaving everyone puzzled about Jiang Yao’s intentions.

Ten minutes later.

The car stopped outside a boxing gym.

The doors opened on both sides simultaneously, and a group of burly men looked around in confusion, unsure why they had returned.

The crimson soles of his dress shoes lightly touched the ground. Jiang Yao’s wound had been hastily treated—rinsed with water and covered with a bandage.

He smiled, then snapped his spotless white gloves against his palm with a crisp sound. "Let’s go, Mr. Eamon."

Eamon: "?"

A Sang caught up to Jiang Yao, hesitating. "Butler Jiang... you?"

"Tell the gym owner to give Mr. Eamon a new pair of gloves," Jiang Yao said, loosening his collar and cuffs.

Everyone stared at Jiang Yao in disbelief. The gentle, scholarly butler they all knew—he knew how to fight?

System: "You know how to do this? Host... you keep surprising me!"

Jiang Yao: "Just wait. I’ll surprise you even more."

A Sang, worried Jiang Yao might get hurt, tried to dissuade him but was stopped by Jiang Yao’s hand on his shoulder. "A Sang."

The clean pine scent wafted from the man. A Sang froze, then scratched his head sheepishly. "Butler Jiang..."

Jiang Yao glanced sideways, his eyes curving into crescents. "You know what to say, right?"

A Sang: "Huh?"

A sly glint flashed in Jiang Yao’s almond-shaped eyes as he leaned in and whispered a few words into A Sang’s ear.

A Sang’s expression shifted from confusion to understanding, then to shock and admiration, before he nodded solemnly—looking ready to kneel before Jiang Yao—and walked over to Eamon, who was warming up.

A Sang: "Mr. Eamon, Butler Jiang said if you can beat him, he’ll consider letting you meet Mr. Simon directly."

Eamon immediately got excited. "Of course! I’ll give it my all!"

A Sang looked at Eamon like he was an idiot. "Come closer. I’ve got something else to tell you."

Eamon leaned in.

A Sang mimicked Jiang Yao’s tone. "Idiot. If you really hurt Butler Jiang, think about it—you’re in a foreign country. The Shen family runs everything in Country G. Do you really think you’ll walk out of here alive?"

Eamon: "..."

A Sang patted Eamon’s shoulder. "Fight well. Let Butler Jiang blow off steam. That way, when Mr. Shen returns, he might go easier on you."

"You’re lying! It’s you who’s unreasonable... I clearly..."

A Sang: "Think carefully."

Eamon staggered back a few steps before being caught by a few burly men. They lifted his arms, helping him stretch his shoulders and neck.

Eamon was huge—even bigger than Simon. When he lifted his shirt, scars from years of fighting covered his body.

Yet now, as he stepped into the ring, he looked uncertain.

Jiang Yao rolled his wrists and said softly, "What’s wrong, Mr. Eamon?"

Eamon: "..."

"I... I think I might’ve spoken too loudly to Butler Jiang earlier..." Eamon gave a nervous chuckle.

"Shh." Jiang Yao’s eyes curved into crescents again.

The referee took his position and blew the whistle.

Eamon saw stars before he could react. The sound of his jaw cracking echoed in his ears. His eyes widened in shock.

This butler had skills!

He clearly knew how to strike with precision—targeting weak points!

Bam!

Eamon’s huge body crashed onto the mat with a heavy thud, kicking up dust.

Jiang Yao shook his hand out, his wrist aching. It had been too long since he last fought, and his button-up and slacks were far too restrictive!

Bam! Fueled by frustration, Jiang Yao kicked Eamon right in the face as the man tried to get up!

Eamon’s body spun through the air before slamming down, shocking the other candidates!

They were all seasoned fighters—they saw what was going on. Someone immediately shouted, "Eamon! Get up! Fight back!"

Too bad. The referee, dumbfounded, finally snapped out of it and started counting over Eamon’s motionless body: "Ten... nine... ..."

A Sang wore a nervous expression.

"3, 2, 1!"

As the referee finished the count, Jiang Yao told the system, "All's fair in love and war." Then he turned, leisurely striking a victorious pose toward the audience, and even gave A Sang a thumbs-up.

A Sang received the praise: "YES!"

"What a silly boy," Jiang Yao thought, chuckling. He removed the bloodstained white glove from his left hand and tossed it onto Eamon. Freeing one hand, he casually tugged at his trousers, hitching them up slightly before squatting down—a position that required him to balance on his toes for comfort.

The men behind him clearly saw the crimson soles of his shoes, nearly the same color as the blood on the ground.

The burly men went silent. Even if Eamon was a rival, taking down an Asia-Pacific boxing champion in just three punches was insane!

Jiang Yao lifted Eamon's face. Eamon was already bruised and swollen, his face smeared with blood and snot. He accused Jiang Yao, "You... you're despicable. You tricked me..."

Jiang Yao murmured, low enough for only Eamon to hear, "You hit my face, I hit yours. Seems fair."

Jiang Yao's combat skills were learned in childhood from a military man. He still remembered the man's words: martial arts were originally meant for killing.

As long as you defeat your opponent, any technique is valid—after all, only the living can speak.

And Jiang Yao believed he had already adhered quite well to the rules of competitive sports. Compared to that dishonorable old master, he was like a lotus untainted by mud.

Killing isn't terrifying; what's truly terrifying is breaking the spirit. Eamon was so furious he was practically spitting blood: "You clearly could've... *cough*... beaten me straight up. Why let him say you couldn't...?"

"I just don’t like pain," Jiang Yao said sympathetically. "Besides, it's fair—in the ring, you own your wins and losses."

Eamon: "..."

System: "You lost 1CC of blood. He lost 100CC..."

"I must go now, Mr. Eamon," Jiang Yao stood, preparing to leave. "As the Shen family's butler, I have many duties. Please inform Mr. Jing Yan that I don't need a man inferior to me, pitying me and offering help. I am capable and require no unnecessary interference."

Eamon: "..."

The system muttered, its understanding of Jiang Yao refreshed once more. "You're venomous. Jing Yan likes you—he even lost his job because of you."

Jiang Yao sneered, "He's just a suitor. I don't like him. And do you think branding someone's failure as 'love for me' gives them the right to shackle me with it?"

The system fell silent, the more it thought, the more Jiang Yao's words made sense. Jing Yan had lost in a rivalry—how could Jiang Yao be blamed just because Jing Yan liked him?

"Fools romanticizing their own suffering," Jiang Yao scoffed.

-

Jiang Yao's injury wasn't deep. The doctor checked him over and said a simple bandage would suffice. After applying a white gauze patch to his forehead, Jiang Yao checked himself in the mirror—his sharp phoenix eyes, now devoid of amusement, looked exceptionally piercing.

The private doctor sighed, "Butler Jiang, what a shame to ruin such a handsome face."

Jiang Yao turned with a smile, his previously expressionless face instantly softening into warmth and grace. "Thank you for your trouble. Let me see you out."

The private doctor nodded. "You've been through a lot. But working for Mr. Shen... does have its dangers. Change the bandage tomorrow. If it's inconvenient, just call me—I can come quickly."

Jiang Yao smiled, escorting the doctor to the door and instructing A Sang to see him home before returning to the villa.

Simon stood at the foyer, holding hot water and a towel. "Sir heard you were injured and is on his way back."

Jiang Yao hummed in acknowledgment, changing shoes and wiping his hands. In the living room, Ian, Auntie Zhou, and others were still dining. When they saw Jiang Yao enter, they inquired about his injury.

Aili, practicing her chopstick skills, immediately asked, "What happened to the guy who hit you?"

Simon cut in, "Already handled."

"Dealt with?" Jerry asked curiously. "How?"

The others at the table fell silent.

Jiang Yao burst into laughter. "Shipped back home—what did you expect? Police reports are a hassle. Miss Aili, chopsticks aren't held like fists... Let me show you."

The tension eased, and the mood at the table lifted again.

Simon paused for a beat before stepping outside. Under the streetlight, he made a call. "How's the guy?"

The voice on the other end: "What? Did Sir change his orders?"

Simon considered, then said, "Mm. Rerouting him to Y Country, to Jing Yan's place. Call it a warning for an old colleague."

The voice: "You despise Jing Yan now? Weren't you two close?"

Simon said solemnly, "That was then."

Back when they both worked for Shen Mo, without conflicting interests. Now, he didn’t want Jing Yan holding onto any hope about Jiang Yao.

Nor did he want Jiang Yao keeping any sentimental attachment for Jing Yan! Sending Eamon to Jing Yan was the ideal proof Jiang Yao's done with him!

Too bad Eamon's face was unrecognizable. To avoid being too obvious, Simon had only broken Eamon's punching hand before putting him on the plane.

-

Shen Mo finally returned to the villa late at night. He had rushed back upon hearing of Jiang Yao's injury, immediately demanding details. But his butler had dealt with Simon without leaving him any room to intervene.

Shen Mo was frustrated—this was his moment to shine. Why rob him of that?

Jiang Yao was changing his bandages; the gauze had gotten wet during his shower. When the knock came, he answered the door in his robe.

"Where are you hurt?" Shen Mo stood at the doorway.

Jiang Yao smiled faintly and went to shut the door.

Shen Mo frowned. "Are you angry? I know I was too slow. You can punish me."

"Sir, you should rest," Jiang Yao said impassively.

Shen Mo gripped the door handle, forcing his way in. He knew kneeling might placate Jiang Yao.

But this was the servants' quarters. If others found out...

Shen Mo lowered his voice. "Butler Jiang, let me in. Take it out on me."

The percentage above the man's head ticked upward.

From 10%...

To 30%. To 40%...

Jiang Yao almost burst out laughing. Shen Mo was clearly craving punishment.

Why give him the satisfaction?

Training wasn’t about rewarding the dog—that’d mean the dog was training you.

"Sir, while taking those hits today, you never crossed my mind."

The string of numbers instantly plummeted back to 0!

The high-and-mighty Mr. Shen, for the first time, understood that the desire for punishment was a privilege only house dogs get!

Doing nothing meant being a worthless, failing dog—one that would be forgotten by its master. To be forgotten was to lose everything, including the chance to be disciplined and trained!

To become a stray dog.

"No..." Shen Mo panicked, no longer caring where he was, and fell to his knees right outside Jiang Yao's door. "Don't..."