Chapter 20 — A Man of Few Words, But Solid as They Come

Tang Xiaoman had long wanted to sit down for a serious talk with Zhou Yichen.

Unfortunately, her schedule had been packed to the brim. The only time they had spoken privately so far was the brief conversation the night before.

She had no intention of returning to the club tonight, which meant she could finally use this downtime to discuss their next steps with him.

Her car had just pulled out of Food Street when shadows began to stir again in the darkness.

It seemed they had been growing impatient. They had simply been waiting for her to leave the busy street before making their move.

Zhou Yichen stepped out of a ride-hailing car and waited at the agreed meeting point.

“I’ll drive,” he said as he approached.

Tang Xiaoman waved him off and gestured for him to take the passenger seat instead.

Zhou Yichen didn’t argue. He circled to the other side and quietly settled into the front passenger seat.

Tang Xiaoman drove to the parking lot of a nearby mall and turned off the engine.

She scanned the surroundings.

Sure enough, those lurking shadows had hidden themselves again.

It seemed the Gu and Su families had suffered enough failed attempts and setbacks that they were beginning to fear her. The moment they saw a bodyguard sitting in her car, they no longer dared to act recklessly.

Just a bunch of clowns jumping around.

Tang Xiaoman wasn’t afraid of them—she simply didn’t want them wasting her time.

She turned toward Zhou Yichen.

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

As always, he answered every question—but with the fewest possible words.

Tang Xiaoman liked that about him. She smiled and said cheerfully,

“Alright then. Hand it over.”

Zhou Yichen forwarded the chat logs he had recorded onto her phone and carefully labeled each conversation with the corresponding bodyguard number.

Tang Xiaoman didn’t look at the messages right away. Instead, she counted the numbers attached to them.

Her eyes widened in shock.

“…Nine?”

Aside from Zhou Yichen, she had hired fifteen bodyguards.

She offered them sky-high salaries with only one requirement: **they had to be completely unattached.**

No immediate family members and unmarried status were hard requirements. Being single was a softer one.

In other words, even if they had partners before, as long as they broke up immediately, they qualified.

After all, they weren’t monks, and they were all in the prime of their lives. Having partners was perfectly normal.

But once the apocalypse arrived, romantic partners would become unpredictable liabilities.

If they were willing to abandon those relationships for a high salary, it meant the relationship probably wasn’t that important.

But if they continued sneaking around to stay in touch, it meant they couldn’t truly let go.

When the apocalypse came, they might abandon their posts to rescue their partners—or secretly carry out rescue missions on their own.

Tang Xiaoman had limited energy and limited resources.

She could only take care of her own team. There was no way she could also protect all the people they cared about.

That was why she offered salaries **ten to dozens of times above market rate** to hire “lone-wolf” bodyguards.

Otherwise, bodyguards were everywhere—why would she burn money like that?

The surveillance cameras installed in the dormitories were another precaution.

Anyone constantly glued to their phone was automatically suspicious.

Tang Xiaoman had no time to review the footage herself—and frankly, she had no interest in spying on male bodyguards’ dorm rooms.

So she had handed the job to Zhou Yichen.

After observing the surveillance for several days, Zhou Yichen had already identified the likely suspects. Earlier today, he conducted a surprise inspection of their phones.

Sure enough, **nine of them were still secretly in contact with their girlfriends.**

After thinking for a moment, Tang Xiaoman made her decision.

“Talk to those nine individually tomorrow,” she said. “If they really can’t cut ties, settle their pay and let them go.”

“Alright.”

Once that matter was settled, Tang Xiaoman glanced at Zhou Yichen, who was sitting ramrod straight beside her, and couldn’t help laughing.

“We’re just chatting in the car. You don’t have to sit so stiffly.”

Zhou Yichen remained perfectly composed.

“It’s a habit. Can’t change it.”

In the military, posture was everything—standing or sitting. Years of discipline had burned it into his muscle memory.

Tang Xiaoman nodded in understanding.

“Fair enough.”

Then she asked, “How are the modifications on the diesel generator and the nail gun coming along?”

“They’re done.”

As always, Zhou Yichen didn’t disappoint. His efficiency was off the charts.

Tang Xiaoman blinked in surprise.

“All done?”

It had only been one day. That was ridiculous.

Seeing her expression, Zhou Yichen seemed to interpret it as doubt.

He tapped the bulging canvas bag he carried with him.

“The modified nail gun is here. As for the soundproofing equipment for the diesel generator, it’ll be easier to install and demonstrate back at the club.”

—

Tang Xiaoman brought Zhou Yichen to a nearby shooting range.

The modified nail gun had **twice the speed and range** compared to the original version.

She was extremely satisfied.

Watching her fire shot after shot without missing, a flicker of surprise passed through Zhou Yichen’s dark eyes.

Her aim was… impressive.

Granted, a nail gun wasn’t a real firearm. But the way she held it looked practiced and natural.

Tang Xiaoman happily accepted the modified weapon as her personal defensive tool.

“How about the tactical equipment I asked you to prepare?” she asked.

“I’ve already paid the deposit. It should arrive within three days.”

Tang Xiaoman stared at him.

His execution ability was terrifying—almost worse than hers.

She had spent four years in the apocalypse before developing this obsessive urgency.

Yet he was just a retired soldier living in peaceful times… and he was already this driven.

Tang Xiaoman felt like she’d struck gold.

Afraid he might somehow slip away, she quickly said,

“Keep up the good work. I won’t treat you unfairly.”

Zhou Yichen glanced at her but said nothing.

“What’s the arrangement at the club tonight?” she asked.

“Number 01 is in charge of training and management.”

Tang Xiaoman nodded.

Then she added deliberately,

“In my eyes, you’re the best leader. No one compares to you—not even 01.”

She wanted him to understand something clearly.

**He was her favorite.**

Zhou Yichen’s lips twitched slightly.

Still, he didn’t respond.

Tang Xiaoman had long grown used to his quiet nature and didn’t mind his distant attitude.

Her standard for hiring people was simple: **useful**, not sweet-talking.

Compared to people who talked big, she preferred someone like Zhou Yichen—solid, dependable, and not overly chatty.

Though…

That Number 01 seemed pretty reliable too.

“After you talk to those nine tomorrow, you’ll also handle the evaluation test,” she continued. “Just tell me the results.”

She had too many things to deal with. The screening process was better left to him.

Zhou Yichen pressed his lips together and lowered his gaze.

“Understood.”

—

Tang Xiaoman then dragged Zhou Yichen along on another shopping trip.

They bought **complete sets of tableware, tea sets, and wine sets**—from delicate celadon porcelain to crystal glassware.

After the natural disasters struck, even filling one’s stomach would become a luxury—let alone elegant dishes like these.

They would practically become **luxury goods**.

Still, she decided to store some away.

Even in the apocalypse, she wanted the occasional touch of refined living.

Zhou Yichen carried the goods while she shopped with reckless enthusiasm.

Once the boxed porcelain and glassware were loaded into the back of her pickup truck, she drove him to a seed market.

Three hundred pounds of grain seeds.
One hundred pounds of vegetable seeds.
Fifty pounds of flower and herb seeds.

And on top of that—

**One thousand fruit and melon seedlings.**

The two of them made several trips hauling everything into the truck bed.

Zhou Yichen never once asked why she was buying these things.

He was like a tool executing a mission—working without asking questions.

When they got back into the car again, Tang Xiaoman looked at him curiously.

“I honestly think you’re the most qualified bodyguard in the world,” she said.

“So why do you keep getting fired?”