He typed out a short message.
Guiying:I have a job for you. Are you available to meet?
He set the laptop aside and went to shower while he waited.
By the time he was done, dried off and standing in front of his new wardrobe trying to decide what to wear, a reply had come in.
404_MoralCompass:Depends. Where and when?
Guiying pulled up a map on his phone and searched for restaurants in the district. He did not want to go far, not today, not when he did not yet know the full shape of his situation.
The district itself was safe enough.
Old money, high walls, the kind of neighborhood where the Xue family would stick out immediately.
Shen Zihao was a different calculation, one he did not yet have enough information on to be comfortable with.
He found a restaurant three streets away.
Quiet, private, the kind of place that minded its own business because its clientele paid it to.
He copied the link and sent it across.
Guiying:Here. 10am.
404_MoralCompass:See you there.
He put the phone down and turned back to the wardrobe.
Yesterday, somewhere between the scented candles and the butter cookies, he had made a few additional purchases that were not strictly for comfort.
A blonde wig, sleek and convincing.
A pair of rimless glasses with clear lenses. A full nerd aesthetic outfit, oversized knit, wide leg trousers, the kind of ensemble that suggested a completely different personality.
A mask.
And a small kit of makeup designed specifically for altering features, changing the shape of the nose, adjusting the contours of the face, the kind of subtle work that did not read as a disguise but meant that anyone looking for Xue Guiying would not immediately find him.
He laid everything out on the bed and looked at it.
Then he looked at his phone.
He could not simply walk out of the house.
Wang Chengli would know within minutes and Liuxian would know within seconds after that.
There was no version of sneaking out that ended well, and Guiying had not survived this long by underestimating the people around him.
It was better to be upfront.
He opened his contacts, found the number Liuxian had transferred that morning, and called.
It rang twice.
"Yes? My wife." Liuxian's voice was calm and unhurried, the background noise of an office faint behind it.
Guiying blushed a bit, he wasn't expecting Liuxian to call him that.
"I am heading to a restaurant nearby to meet a friend," Guiying said. "I wanted to let you know."
A brief pause.
"Which restaurant?"
Guiying sent the link.
Another pause, shorter this time. "Wang Chengli will arrange a car."
"I can walk, it is three streets away."
"He will arrange a car." Liuxian said again, in the pleasant and immovable tone of someone who had already decided.
Guiying opened his mouth, then closed it.
"Fine," he said.
"Have fun," Liuxian said, and hung up.
Guiying looked at the phone for a moment, then turned back to the blonde wig on the bed.
Now. The matter of putting all of this on without Wang Chengli walking in.
He started with the makeup.
He had watched enough tutorials in his past life, during the long empty hours when Shen Zihao was out and he had nothing but time and a phone with internet access, to know what he was doing. He worked methodically, reshaping the bridge of his nose with contour, softening the angles of his face, making his features read as rounder and less distinctive.
Nothing dramatic.
Dramatic was the wrong approach.
The goal was not to look like someone else entirely.
When he was satisfied he reached for the wig.
Short, fluffy, pale blonde, the kind of hair that caught light easily and drew the eye away from everything else. He fitted it carefully, tucking his dark hair underneath, adjusting the hairline until it sat naturally.
He checked the mirror.
He looked different.
Noticeably different.
He put on the beige long sleeve shirt first, then the camel knit vest over it, smoothing it down at the front.
The dark brown wide leg trousers next, which he had to admit were genuinely comfortable, and the white sneakers. He looped the headphones around his neck, settled the rimless glasses on his face, and looked at himself in the mirror one final time.
The mask went on last, sitting just below the glasses, covering the lower half of his face cleanly.
He tilted his head left.
Then right.
Xue Guiying was not in this mirror. The person looking back at him was soft featured, blonde, unremarkable in the particular way of a studious young man who spent most of his time indoors and had no reason to attract attention.
He picked up his new phone, his card, and nothing else, and headed downstairs.
Wang Chengli was waiting near the entrance with the particular composed patience of someone who had been informed a car was needed and had arranged it without requiring further details.
ZZHe looked at Guiying when he came down the stairs.
To his credit, his expression did not change at all.
"The car is ready, Master Xue," he said.
"Thank you, Uncle Wang," Guiying said pleasantly.
He walked out the front door and got into the car, and if Wang Chengli had any thoughts whatsoever about the blonde wig and the headphones and the fact that the person who had just walked past him looked almost nothing like the young man who had arrived at the house yesterday, he kept every single one of them to himself.
The car stopped in front of the restaurant three streets away.
Guiying reached for the door handle, then paused when he realized Wang Chengli had stepped out as well and was standing beside the car with the settled expression of someone who had no intention of leaving.
"Uncle Wang?"
"I have to see you arrive and return home safely, Master Xue," Wang Chengli said simply.
It was not a negotiation.
Guiying could see that clearly enough. He nodded once and walked toward the entrance.
The restaurant was exactly what the neighborhood suggested it would be.
Quiet, dim, tastefully decorated with the particular restraint of establishments that did not need to try hard.
The kind of place where the menu had no prices listed because if you needed to ask you could not afford it.