Chapter Twenty-One: Still Playing a Minor Role

Fang Yuan had assumed that at most, only the people on their floor would be affected, but judging from the earlier commotion, could it be that everyone in the hotel was drawn in? This was going to be a real spectacle.

To fully embrace his curiosity, Fang Yuan didn’t exit the elevator when he reached the ground floor—instead, he pressed the button to go back up. Manager Xue, who was in the lobby, spotted Fang Yuan and was about to greet him, but Fang Yuan didn’t come out. Watching the elevator’s floor indicator, Manager Xue guessed he must have returned to his room. He probably forgot something…

In reality, Fang Yuan didn’t go back to his room; he lingered nearby, waiting. Whenever he saw someone approach or heard footsteps, he quickly stepped into the elevator, acting as though he was holding the door open for them at just the right moment.

This time, an elderly gentleman and lady entered, accompanied by someone who appeared to be their housekeeper. As the three of them stepped into the elevator, the old man, grateful for Fang Yuan’s gesture, even thanked him.

If only he knew that Fang Yuan had orchestrated this out of a mischievous desire to see him embarrassed, the old man would likely be outraged.

As expected, not long after they entered, a series of intermittent sounds began—a chorus of “pfft, pfft” noises. Perhaps due to their age and weak digestion, the symphony inside the elevator was relentless. Before long, the space was filled with a toxic miasma, making Fang Yuan deeply regret his decision. He silently lamented, “Sir, you may be devoted to healthy living, but are you prepared to take responsibility for releasing this lethal gas? Someone could genuinely pass out in here.”

Fang Yuan was certain that if he stayed in this confined space much longer, he’d lose consciousness. At last, they reached the ground floor, and Fang Yuan hurried out, desperate for a breath of fresh air in the lobby.

“What on earth is that smell on you? It’s absolutely dreadful.” Chongchong’s muffled voice sounded in his mind, having detected the unique, pungent blend emanating from Fang Yuan.

“You’re pretty sharp! I can’t smell a thing,” Fang Yuan sniffed at his clothes, but detected nothing unusual.

“My sense of smell is many times sharper than yours. Subtle odors like this are naturally beyond your detection. And for the record, you don’t smell much better than before,” Chongchong replied, using Fang Yuan’s senses to perceive the world outside.

“That old man really went overboard. I nearly vomited. I don’t think I’ll be able to stomach breakfast today,” Fang Yuan muttered, his appetite gone at the mere memory.

Hearing that Fang Yuan wasn’t planning to eat breakfast was a devastating blow to a growing creature like Chongchong. “That won’t do. I’m hungry. If you won’t eat, I’ll take you there myself,” Chongchong threatened, and Fang Yuan still feared him enough not to argue.

“Fine, but give me a moment. I’ve figured out their game now. It’s just a childish prank, but I’m curious—what kind of device could affect everyone in the hotel?” Even if the stunt was merely a petty trick, Fang Yuan didn’t dare underestimate the small box that caused it.

A simple prank that could impact an entire hotel—whoever possessed such an item was not to be taken lightly.

“After today, I doubt this is something Miss Pei Xi would do,” Chongchong mused, already fantasizing about what to eat next, sounding only half attentive.

“How can you be so sure? You should know people can be deceptive. Never judge by appearances,” Fang Yuan retorted.

“Mr. Fang, did you sleep well last night? We have a buffet in the restaurant with all sorts of breakfast options. You should try it,” Manager Xue said, making his rounds in the lobby. Every guest emerging from the elevator that morning looked disgruntled, though he couldn’t guess why.

Though somewhat opportunistic, Manager Xue was diligent about his work. Arriving early, he found that each person stepping out of the elevator wore a pained, troubled expression. When he finally saw Fang Yuan, he noticed that while Fang Yuan looked uncomfortable, his expression lacked the same embarrassment as the others.

“I’ll rest here a bit and head over soon,” Fang Yuan said, settling in the lounge area, closing his eyes in hopes of banishing the lingering odors from his memory.

“You’re new here and don’t have any friends. Manager Xue may not be entirely trustworthy, but if you offer him the right incentive, he can be very helpful,” Chongchong analyzed lazily. People like Manager Xue were common—cunning but not outright unscrupulous.

They expertly mined their surroundings for any information that might benefit them. For someone like Fang Yuan, unfamiliar with everything, having someone like Manager Xue could be a valuable asset.

“But I’m short on money. If I give it to him, how will we eat or drink?” Fang Yuan protested. He was loath to hand over his hard-earned money just for information.

“I didn’t say it had to be money. The reward could be anything he wants—anything of value or use to him. If you plan to stay here long-term, gathering useful information is the most important thing for you now,” Chongchong explained, ever the worrier for his host.

Fang Yuan thought it over and realized Chongchong had a point. Since he’d secured accommodation, he clearly wasn’t in a hurry to leave. If he intended to settle here, he needed to make plans for the future.

Ah, Chongchong, you really are my good little bug. You think of everything for me. If I could, I’d hug you and give you a kiss.

These words Fang Yuan kept to himself, though he was fairly sure Chongchong could hear them all the same. If his guess was right, he’d love to see if Chongchong might even get embarrassed.

Although the buffet wasn’t free, the price was fair. After both he and Chongchong had eaten their fill, Fang Yuan suddenly remembered something very important.