Chapter 445 Modern Arc 1 (Meng Wan x Song Tingzhou)

Chapter 445 Modern Story 1 (Meng Wan x Song Tingzhou)

Meng Wan was jolted awake, coughing from the smoke. Coughing and struggling to open his eyes, all he could smell was the acrid stench of burning soot with every breath he took.

Damn it! Fire!!!

Meng Wan panicked. He felt dizzy and nauseous, the smoke stung his eyes so badly he could barely keep them open, he could only squint as he desperately scrambled down from the top bunk to find a way out.

By now, the dorm was thick with smoke—he couldn't even see the door, let alone find water. He grabbed a work uniform off the lower bunk and pressed it over his nose and mouth. The grease smell wasn't much better than the smoke, but at least it wasn't suffocating him.

He felt his way to the door by memory and grabbed the handle, only to let out a muffled grunt of pain from the heat. Whoever the hell had bailed and slammed the door behind them was a real piece of work.

Meng Wan peered through the gap in the door. The fire might have started on the first floor—outside was a wall of flames, even more dangerous than inside. His sluggish brain finally kicked in. They were on the fourth floor. Jumping down...

No time to think. Going through the door would definitely burn him.

Meng Wan forced himself toward the window, his head spinning more with every step. He covered his mouth and coughed twice, wondering if he even had the strength to jump out. If worst came to worst, he'd just have to dive out headfirst—a slim chance at survival beat dying in this room.

A loud *bang* rang out as the window was shoved open. The smoke inside seemed to find an escape and surged outward. A man in an orange firefighter suit climbed in from outside, coming face-to-face with Meng Wan, who was barely standing.

"Xue Sheng, have you found the trapped person on the fourth floor yet?"

Flames were already licking at the doorway. Xue Sheng didn't have time to reply—he scooped Meng Wan up and made straight for the window.

Meng Wan was already nauseous and nearly puked from being jostled around. The world spun, and he finally passed out. As he lost consciousness, he managed to thank his rescuer, relieved.

"Thank you."

His voice was barely a whisper. He didn't know if the guy heard him.

The restaurant had four floors. The fourth floor had the wedding banquet hall, plus two rooms used as employee dorms. The fire had started in the second-floor kitchen. The third floor was empty, but several employees were trapped on the fourth. Xue Sheng's colleagues were pulling people out one by one.

In the middle of the night, besides the fire trucks and ambulances, a crowd of onlookers had gathered downstairs. The restaurant's employees were all down there, none of them having left. A woman in her fifties looked up anxiously at the building. "Oh, what a disaster. Why didn't any of you wake Xiao Meng up when you ran?"

Several male employees were covered in ash. "We did call him! The fire was so loud, everyone was yelling. Who knew he slept that hard and didn't hear any of it!"

In a disaster, everyone looks out for themselves. Besides, Meng Wan had only been working there for a few days. He was introverted and didn't really know anyone. In an emergency like this, they could barely save themselves—how could they worry about anyone else?

Someone shouted, "We got another one out!"

"Where's the doctor? He's got carbon monoxide poisoning. Move aside, don't crowd him!" Xue Sheng yelled.

Medical staff rushed over right away. The lead doctor was a woman in her thirties, calm and steady. She fit the oxygen mask over Meng Wan's face, cranked the flow to max, then quickly pulled open his collar to check his carotid pulse and watch his chest rise and fall.

"Vitals are stable. Nothing serious—just inhaled too much smoke. He needs to go to the hospital for further evaluation." The female doctor spoke fast but her hands were steady, gesturing for a younger staff member to bring the stretcher over. "A Xun, come give me a hand. Set him down gently, don't bump his head."

Meng Wan woke up as they loaded him into the ambulance, though he still felt dizzy and nauseous. He checked himself over—no unusual pain anywhere, so he probably hadn't been burned or scalded. He felt lucky. He'd read online that large burns easily got infected and required skin grafts, which sounded terrifying.

With his last glance, he looked back at the orange figure charging back into the fire, silently memorizing the name of the firefighter who saved him—Xue Sheng.

"Sis, he looks like he's awake." A Xun hooked Meng Wan up to the heart monitor.

Qing Xing glanced at Meng Wan, then at the monitor. "Yeah, he is. Then he's fine."

A Xun stretched. "Man, we really caught a fire on our shift tonight. Did you deal with stuff like this a lot during your internship, sis?"

Qing Xing organized the emergency supplies without looking up. "Bigger than this. A chemical plant explosion—the whole factory went up. A lot of people died before they could be saved. In this line of work, you'll get used to it sooner or later."

"Fair enough." A Xun stared at the heart monitor, then bored, started chatting with Qing Xing again. "Has my brother-in-law gotten back from his business trip to Germany yet?"

At the mention of her husband, Qing Xing's expression softened. "Soon. He said when he gets back, he'll have you and Xiao Ci over for dinner."

A Xun felt a bit embarrassed. "How does he know about that too?"

Qing Xing patted A Xun's shoulder. "What's there to be embarrassed about? Wen Jun and I aren't narrow-minded people. You and Xiao Ci grew up together—everyone knows. You'll have to bring him to meet the family for a meal sooner or later anyway. Has he been busy at the Chinese medicine hospital lately?"

A Xun's face flushed slightly. "Not too bad. I'll tell him to request some time off in advance."

"Good. Then I'll call Grandpa and Xiaoji and the others."

Meng Wan listened groggily to the siblings chat, and the next time he woke up, he was in the hospital. His boss came to visit him once, settled his wages for those few days, and covered his medical expenses. The boss looked more miserable about the whole thing than Meng Wan did—he'd taken a huge loss. At least none of the employees had died, or the compensation would have made things even worse.

On top of that, the dishwasher auntie kindly brought a bag of fruit to visit Meng Wan. He was introverted, but he had a way of winning over older folks.

"Xiao Meng, don't get too worked up. I heard the doctor say your symptoms are mild—you can be discharged tomorrow." The auntie comforted him. "The important thing is you're alive. Our restaurant's done for now, who knows when it'll reopen. Once I find a good place, I'll ask around if they need an accountant for you too."

Meng Wan smiled bitterly. "Thanks, Auntie. I don't want to look for a job right now. I think I'll head back to my hometown first."

He felt like he'd been incredibly lucky. If he'd just slept through last night, he probably wouldn't be alive.

That crappy restaurant not only paid peanuts and had terrible housing—it nearly cost him his life!

---

"Your situation is actually the easiest to resolve." The man in gold-rimmed glasses leaned slightly forward in his chair, his gaze warm and assured. "Since your parents didn't leave a clear will designating an heir, the house and the 600,000 in inheritance belong to you from the start."

Meng Wan's feelings were complicated. He pursed his lips and looked at the man across from him. "But my uncle did raise me for all these years. I don't want to make things too ugly. Lawyer Nie, you understand what I mean, right?"

This man was supposedly a very famous lawyer in S City. Consulting him was billed by the minute, and it had drained almost all of Meng Wan's meager savings. But the money was worth it—at least Lawyer Nie got straight to the point without beating around the bush.

A hint of amusement appeared in Nie Zhiyao's eyes behind his glasses. "Kid, raising you was his legal obligation as a relative. It's not a debt you owe him."

"Uh, I'm twenty-two." Meng Wan felt weird being called "kid."

Nie Zhiyao smoothly corrected himself: "Mr. Meng, go ahead and take the legal provisions I printed for you to your uncle with confidence. If he won't give you the money, take him straight to court. I don't take small cases like this, but our firm has plenty of professional lawyers—good quality, reasonable prices."

Meng Wan fidgeted with the hair falling over his forehead. His short cut had grown long because he'd been too cheap to get it trimmed. "Lawyer Nie, you're not getting what I mean. When I said I don't want things to get ugly, I meant I don't want to take my uncle to court. You said the house my parents left belongs to me. Since my uncle's family has been living there all these years, can I charge him rent under the law?"

Nie Zhiyao: "..."

He'd been wrong. What a devilish kid.

Meng Wan's ID and phone had been found and returned to him by that firefighter named Xue Sheng. They were his most important assets—without them, he wouldn't even have had money to hire a lawyer. When Meng Wan left the law firm, he had a new contact in his WeChat: Nie Zhiyao. The suddenly enthusiastic lawyer had offered to add him as a friend and waived half his consultation fee.

What a genuinely good person!

Meng Wan used the money he'd scraped together penny by penny to take a bus back to the county town. He'd already been through the harsh lessons of society, and now he had just one goal: get back the house and money his parents had left him.

Only an idiot wouldn't. With his salary of 2,200 a month, he'd have to work over twenty years without spending a cent to earn 600,000. Not to mention a small house in the county town was worth at least 300,000 to 400,000. This could well be his security for the rest of his life.

To be honest, Meng Wan didn't want to go back to his hometown to develop his career. But he'd just been through something major like a fire, his mind was a mess, and he didn't know what path to take yet. So he had to go back first and get what was rightfully his.

He panicked without money in his hands. When he was in middle school, asking his aunt for money to buy a school uniform—that feeling of being lowly, like begging—was burned into his memory.

At the age when his pride was at its peak, he'd had to read people's expressions. So he started working early. In his first year of high school, his grades were still decent. But starting his second year, his aunt refused to pay his tuition. Even with school subsidies, he had to squeeze in time to work at a barbecue restaurant, barely scraping through to graduation and getting into a mediocre university.

College was a bit easier. Even though Meng Wan still had no money, the school offered loans. To avoid graduating with debt, he worked while studying throughout college—just not as exhausting as high school.

While others made friends and hit the bars, he was busy working and running errands for rich young masters. Someone made a thing of his looks, and one errand landed him with a stalker, ruining his reputation for all four years of college. He barely made any friends—though he didn't have time for them anyway.

"Bi Yun? Yeah, it's nothing, just inhaled some smoke."

The streets of the county town looked no different from when Meng Wan had left four years ago—low buildings, e-bikes parked all over the place. Hauling a huge backpack, Meng Wan walked along the sidewalk, talking on the phone with his roommate. "I'm back in my hometown. Yeah, I've got some things to take care of. I'll catch up with you when I get back."

He had a good relationship with this kind of shy roommate; the two had lived together in the dorm for four years without any major conflicts. Even after graduation, going their own ways, they'd stayed in touch—one of the few friends Meng Wan had.

Meng Wan hung up and entered the familiar neighborhood. A young man who looked a bit like him stood at the base of the building, pushing a bicycle, about to head out.

"Bro? Why are you back?"

Meng Xi stared blankly at his cousin's almost too-pretty, refined face, then realized how that sounded and quickly added, "I mean, why didn't you call ahead? Mom and Dad aren't home."

Meng Wan's uncle used to work construction sites when they lived in the village, but after moving to the county town, he'd opened an electric bike shop that also fixed e-bikes on the side—business was decent. His aunt stayed home full-time to raise the kids, occasionally going to the mahjong parlor to play.

An ordinary couple, really. Whenever people found out they were also raising their late brother's nephew, they'd praise them for being so kind-hearted.

"It's fine, I'll just head up and wait for them," Meng Wan said with a smile. The sunlight was warm, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

The buildings in this small town were low, and the Meng family's apartment, bought early on, had thin walls compared to newer constructions. After dinner, once the neighbors had finished their evening strolls and gone back inside, a heart-wrenching argument from the Meng household drew a crowd downstairs.

Meng Wan's aunt's shrill voice carried on late into the night, punctuated by his uncle's low, angry curses and Meng Xi's soft pleas. Despite the chaos, Meng Wan didn't leave—after all, this was his house. Why would he?

He simply took over Meng Xi's room and slept. The next morning, he opened the door and headed to the bathroom to wash up. His aunt, who only knew how to shout, wasn't around; only his uncle sat on the sofa, chain-smoking. Meng Xi had gone to school—he was a senior in high school now, with a heavy workload.

"Xiao Wan, your uncle raised you all these years. Do you really have to go this far?" With his wife not around, Meng's uncle tried the soft approach. He'd consulted a local lawyer early that morning and knew Meng Wan legally had the right to reclaim the house and inheritance.

Meng Wan had been an obedient kid growing up—he'd remember a chicken leg someone gave him for years. His uncle figured a few kind words would coax the boy into giving up voluntarily.

Sure enough, Meng Wan's expression turned complicated. His face was still damp from washing, and he lowered his head with a sigh. "How about this, Uncle."

His uncle looked hopeful. Worst case, he'd give the kid two hundred thousand and be done with it—the house and the rest of the money were off-limits.

"You've probably sunk thirty or forty thousand into me over the years. How about we just call it even on the rent?"

Silence filled the room, broken only by his uncle's heavy, ragged breathing.

Meng Wan picked up an untouched slice of bread from the table, tore off pieces and chewed them slowly. "I heard Meng Xi's doing well in school. He's only a senior, right? More promising than I was at his age. Don't let these trivial matters mess up his college entrance exam next year."

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