Chapter Text
"Remind me to thoroughly vet tenants before renting to them," Hua Cheng gripes into the phone as he walks down the sidewalk of Crimson Rain Incorporated's newest acquisition. "And before you send the new leasing agreement out, add a clause requiring that every tenant gives us an actual manager as the primary point-of-contact."
Yin Yu's sigh is audible. "That bad, huh?"
Hua Cheng scoffs. "The leaky ceiling? Not in the slightest; it'll be fixed by tomorrow. But if the desk girl hadn't called when she did, we would have had an infestation of mold in the entire building. She's trying to contact her manager now, so I'm going to wait here until the manager arrives."
"Try the coffee shop next door," Yin Yu suggests. "I've been once, and it's not bad."
"You're trying to put caffeine in me so I don't rip this manager's throat out," Hua Cheng says dryly. "It won't work."
"Worth a shot. Well, now I have revisions to make. I'll email you the draft when it's done."
"Good." With that, Hua Cheng hangs up the phone without a goodbye and marches into Puqi Café, the coffeeshop adjacent to the salon whose manager is about to face his wrath.
The smell of baked goods and fresh coffee fills his senses as he steps inside. There are a few customers scattered around the café, and at the counter there are two teenage boys: one with light brown hair, chatting animatedly with a customer, and one with curly black hair, wiping down one of the machines. Hua Cheng steps up to the line, deciding then and there that perhaps some investigative work is in order. He has to know whether every manager in this strip mall is incompetent, or just the one, and boys this age are likely to be honest.
As the customer in front of him steps aside, Hua Cheng can see that the teenager has a nametag reading Qianqiu. His eyes widen a little—unsurprising; between the sharp red and black suits, the excessive jewelry, and the eyepatch, Hua Cheng's appearance is far from ordinary—but then he gives Hua Cheng a bright smile. "Good morning, and welcome to Puqi Café! How can I help you?"
Hua Cheng pulls a business card from his pocket and slides it towards Qianqiu. "My name is Hua Cheng. I'm the new owner of the building. I'd like to place an order, but I also have some questions for you."
Qianqiu blinks. "Oh—do you want me to get my boss? He's currently unloading some new stock, but I can tell him you're here to see him."
"Well, if you can answer my questions, that won't be necessary," says Hua Cheng. He looks over his shoulder to make sure a line isn't forming, and then turns back to Qianqiu. "We received a call this morning from one of the other businesses in this strip, that one of the ceiling tiles was leaking. Have you had any similar issues?"
"Oh, you talked to Ying-jie?"
The other teenager sets down the cloth he's using, and Hua Cheng thinks that he's going to walk over, considering he's interjected himself into the conversation, but instead he continues cleaning. "Ying-jie?" he asks.
"That's what Yizhen calls Xiao Ying, the girl who works next door," Qianqiu explains. "She was in here earlier asking the same question, since we share that wall. Yizhen, did you or Mr. Yang check to see if the leak has spread?"
"Mr. Yang did a few hours ago and he said no," the other teen—Yizhen—replies, not looking up from his work. "I can go ask him if that's changed. He's been in the back all day, not us."
"Mr. Hua, do you want to put your order in before Yizhen goes?" Qianqiu asks. "Knowing him and Mr. Yang, they're going to check every single room to make sure nothing has happened, and it might take a little bit. I'd make it myself, but all the customers say that Yizhen is our best barista."
Hua Cheng cracks a smile at the description of Mr. Yang. Good—that's what he was hoping to hear. "Just a medium hot coffee, milk but no sugar," he replies.
"You can do that yourself, gege," Yizhen calls, already walking towards the back.
"Well, goodbye to you too," Qianqiu calls back, punching in Hua Cheng's order. "Mr. Yang hired him for his work ethic, not for his personality."
Hua Cheng nods, tapping his fingers against the counter. "Tell me more about Xiao Ying. You know her well?"
"She comes here most days," says Qianqiu. He prints Hua Cheng's receipt and then starts preparing the coffee as he talks. "The salon doesn't pay her anywhere near enough for practically running the place. Just between you and me, her manager is incompetent. Last week she came here begging for some basic consumables because she doesn't have the ability to order them herself and the manager wasn't responding."
"Are we still talking about Ying-jie?"
Yizhen emerges from the back, a carton of milk in tow. "We were starting to run low," he explains as he squats down to put the milk away. Then he stands up. "Ying-jie's manager sucks. Gege, did you tell Mr. Hua about the garbage bags? Mr. Yang said yes, but he was pissed. Said that if it happened again, he would bill the salon for it. Poor Ying-jie was so stressed, she almost cried."
Qianqiu's eyes widen. "I didn't know she cried! I know Mr. Yang can be a little intimidating, but he really made her cry?"
"It sounds more like it was the straw that broke the camel's back," says Hua Cheng. "When I spoke to her earlier, it was obvious she's carrying a lot of stress. I'm hoping to talk with her manager today. She ought to be the one contacting me about maintenance issues, not a desk girl."
"Good luck," Yizhen snorts—and then his eyes go wide. "Meimei!"
Hua Cheng turns around to see a preteen girl with bright purple hair sauntering up to the counter. Behind her, a mildly exasperated man shepherds a smaller boy with a bandage on his face into the store.
"We're here to annoy you," the girl announces, paying no mind to Hua Cheng as she leans on the counter next to him.
"Banyue!" the man scolds. "Qianqiu is busy talking to a customer, can't you see?"
Qianqiu only chuckles softly. "Just give me a moment, Banyue. Why don't you and Ying'er pick out snacks while I finish talking with Mr. Hua?"
"Or you can stop ignoring me," Yizhen calls, stepping out from behind the counter. "Did you forget you had two geges?" Immediately, Banyue grabs the other boy's hand and the two make a beeline for Yizhen.
"These are all your siblings?" Hua Cheng asks Qianqiu.
Qianqiu nods, grinning. "Well, foster siblings, technically, not that that matters. That's our dad behind you."
Hua Cheng raises his coffee cup to his lips, all to nearly spill it all over himself. Not that it matters? That's… that's something he's never heard before.
"Hah! You'll never really be part of this family. The lady will take you away once we get sick of you. See how long you'll last."
"Hi," the man behind him laughs. "I'm Xie Lian. I'm sorry about Banyue."
It's only then that Hua Cheng actually turns around to get a look at Qianqiu's father—foster father, and when he does, he nearly drops his coffee again.
Ah, fuck, he's pretty.
Xie Lian has soft, chestnut brown hair and bright honey-colored eyes that, even exasperated, shine with affection as he looks between his kids—foster kids. Hua Cheng almost wonders if he's dreaming. Since when do foster parents smile like that at their wards?
"Hua Cheng. My company just bought this strip mall. There was a maintenance issue at the business next door."
"Did Ying-jie's stupid manager do something again?" Apparently done greeting Yizhen, Banyue tugs Ying'er back to the counter, the smaller boy seemingly unbothered by his older sister's behavior. Then she turns to Xie Lian. "Can we get cookies?"
Xie Lian raises an eyebrow. "I really ought to say no, since you seem to have forgotten your manners today."
"In answer to your question, yes, she did," Hua Cheng chuckles. "And don't worry about it. I forgive you. Have your cookies."
"Mr. Hua," Xie Lian laughs. Already, Hua Cheng hates the way Mr. Hua sounds from Xie Lian's lips. "Alright, alright, you can each have one cookie. Qianqiu, you know what I want."
"And hot chocolate?"
This time, it's Ying'er who speaks, peering up at Xie Lian with hope in his eyes.
"Oh, good grief. Fine. Small ones. And I can see the small cups right there, so don't even think of trying that trick. Honestly, they think they're so smart. Baba, we're out of small cups so I have to put it in a medium cup, okay? And suddenly I have two sugar-high preteens on my hand while they finish out their shift in peace. At least I get to send Banyue to dance class today."
Hua Cheng blinks, suddenly realizing that Xie Lian has looped him back into the conversation. "At least they're all fond of each other. A lot of fos—a lot of siblings aren't."
"I wouldn't know," Xie Lian replies, seemingly not noticing Hua Cheng's slip-up. "I was an only child. Do you have siblings, Mr. Hua?"
Usually Hua Cheng wouldn't answer a personal question, but this one gives him an opening. "Two older brothers. I guess that means you can call me San Lang."
"Ah—"
Xie Lian flushes slightly, and Hua Cheng suddenly begins to regret his life choices. He hadn't intended to elicit that reaction—okay, he had, but he hadn't considered that he might immediately become addicted to it.
"San Lang," Xie Lian tries, hesitant, and this is Hua Cheng's once chance to back down. A chance which he immediately squanders by smiling. "Well, anyway, I ought to pay for—oh, shoot. I left my wallet at home. Hang on, I know you all taught me how to pay on my phone… Banyue, help me?"
"And of course now is when a line starts to form," Qianqiu groans, seeing a few customers walk in. "Anyway, it was nice to meet you—Mr. Hua? What are you—"
"Consider it a token of appreciation," Hua Cheng shrugs as he puts his own phone back into his pocket and scribbles his finger across the tablet to sign his name. "For assisting in my investigation of your incompetent neighbor."
(What? It's not like he doesn't have the money to spare.)
It's only now that Xie Lian realizes what Hua Cheng has done. "Mr. Hua!" he sputters. "You didn't have to—I mean… San Lang… you didn't have to…"
Oh, Hua Cheng is cooked. Why in the world did he offer San Lang as an option? "Like I said. Token of my appreciation. Have a good day. I'm sure I'll see you around." He flashes a smile and then heads for the exit, leaving a pricelessly-bewildered Xie Lian in his wake.
Back to the salon, then. He opens the door to see Xiao Ying stocking a shelf, shoulders trembling slightly. She doesn't seem to notice his entrance, so he sets his coffee down on the reception desk and walks over to her.
"Oh… hi, Mr. Hua," she says quietly. "Um… I called my manager and she didn't pick up, and then I called the district manager and she said that this wasn't her problem, and so then I called the manager again and she told me that if I don't want to handle this myself it can wait until she's in tomorrow because today is her day off."
"Quit."
Xiao Ying finally turns to him, revealing reddened eyes. "What?"
"I could use a receptionist. Quit. Whatever they're paying you here, I'll pay you double."
"I'm pretty sure this place will close if I do that," Xiao Ying mumbles.
"Good. Then I can fill this space with a competent tenant." Xiao Ying's eyes widen. "What? I'm serious. Work for me, you'll get better pay, and if this place goes down, I get a better tenant. Win-win."
"Don't I need to interview?" Xiao Ying asks.
"I interviewed you earlier today, and I even got references for you next door. Though I suspect they'll be sad that their Ying-jie won't come around anymore."
"Yizhen," Xiao Ying laughs. "He's a good kid. Qianqiu too. You'd really pay me double?"
Hua Cheng does some quick math in his head. "Fifty an hour. That's about double, right?"
"Fifty?! Are you serious?! That's closer to triple. Mr. Hua, honestly, surely that's—"
Hua Cheng hands her his business card. "Someone will be in to fix the ceiling within an hour. Call me when you've put in your notice." Then he smiles. "I expect to hear from you by the end of the week."