The Supreme Wild Young Master Chapter 1 I Came to Find a Wife_1

Despite the recent thunderstorm that swept through the sultry summer, the air remained stubbornly uncool. Waves of heat radiated from the ground, creating an atmosphere akin to a steaming furnace.

As one of the city's most bustling hubs, the train station maintained its high traffic even on sweltering days, consistently accommodating a significant number of travelers.

"Yanjing, I have finally arrived."

Zhang Xian, having extricated himself from the train station's throng, exhaled the pent-up breath in his chest and stepped out into the open.

"Kid, where are you off to? Need a taxi?"

"Sir, right here! A motorbike taxi is both cheaper and quicker."

Outside the sweltering train station, numerous drivers, undeterred by the intense sun, eagerly extended greetings to newcomers, offering their services.

"Driver, take me to Jinxiu Garden,"

Zhang Xian approached the taxi stand, settled into the passenger seat of a waiting vehicle, and instructed, "Please be as quick as possible; I'm in a bit of a rush."

"No problem!" the driver obliged, promptly accelerating and sending the taxi speeding away.

Leaning back against the seat, Zhang Xian gazed out the window, observing the rapidly passing scenery. A subtle smile played on his lips, hinting at a complex tapestry of unspoken thoughts.

His last visit to Yanjing was roughly a decade ago, when he was merely thirteen. It was in this picturesque city that, under his teacher's tutelage, he had bid farewell to his solitary life and found a wife.

At that time, his wife was about fifteen, a charming young lass. Ten years having now elapsed, he had no clear picture of how the young princess had blossomed.

A blend of anticipation and apprehension welled up within him, an unexpected concern arising without a clear cause.

Before his descent from the mountain, his teacher had placed a thoughtful hand on his shoulder, saying, "Little Xian Xian, you've grown up amid the remote mountains with scarce exposure to the outside world. I worry you might be easily taken advantage of. I've heard your wife is renowned as Yanjing's foremost beauty and possesses a rather assertive nature. You must proceed with caution and act judiciously. If you find yourself unable to cope, do not mention my name or claim to be my student."

Recalling these words, the smile on Zhang Xian's face gradually receded, replaced by a rare display of shyness, reminiscent of a young bride on her wedding day.

His wife being the number one beauty of Yanjing, coupled with her dominant personality, presented a pressure as immense as a basketball!

"Sir, we've arrived at Jinxiu Garden." Shortly thereafter, the taxi halted before the entrance of a luxurious residential complex.

Zhang Xian settled the fare, offered a mumbled thanks, alighted from the cab, and proceeded to survey his surroundings. The neighborhood exuded an artistic ambiance, blending modern sensibilities with subtle classical undertones.

The harmonious fusion of contemporary architectural design with traditional decorative elements created a unique aesthetic. This residential area masterfully integrated the visual appeal of both the modern and the classical eras.

At the main entrance, four security guards stood at attention on a raised platform, erect as javelins, projecting the professional image expected of personnel overseeing such an upscale compound.

Within the security booth, several guards were engaged in casual conversation, their eyes occasionally flicking towards Zhang Xian, who was observing the area with evident curiosity. Their instincts signaled that this individual might potentially cause disruption.

There was no avoiding the fact that, in the context of this modern metropolis, Zhang Xian's attire could only be described as exceedingly unconventional, if not outright disheveled. He sported a faded white shirt, antiquated black trousers that fell shorter than the standard length, and athletic shoes bearing noticeable mud stains. Apparel of this sort had long ceased to be seen in the city, and even in rural regions, it would be considered outmoded. Naturally, the security guards were prompted to feel suspicious.

Unaware of the security personnel's assessment of him as a person of interest, Zhang Xian's lips curved into a smile as he began to walk towards the complex's interior.

"Halt, what do you think you're doing?" A security guard intercepted Zhang Xian.

"I'm here to find someone. My wife," Zhang Xian replied, a smile still on his face.

"Looking for your wife?" The guard scrutinized Zhang Xian from head to toe, finding it difficult to accept the man's assertion. Could a person dressed like this truly have a wife residing in Jinxiu Garden?

While Yanjing certainly boasted numerous high-end residential areas, Jinxiu Garden stood out as one of the most prestigious. Its inhabitants were typically individuals of considerable wealth or high social standing.

A wife residing in a luxurious neighborhood, while her husband appeared as if he were a beggar – such a scenario was rarely even depicted in dramatic films. Could this man be lost, having lost his bearings?

He did not obstruct Zhang Xian further. Instead, demonstrating a baseline professionalism expected of his role, the guard politely inquired, "Sir, are you certain your wife resides here in Jinxiu Garden?"

"Yes, her name is Mo Shaoyun. Does that name sound familiar to you?" Zhang Xian inquired, his tone one of confident assertion.

"Cough, cough... Oh, dear heavens!" The security guard's eyes widened in disbelief, and he nearly choked on his own breath, stifling a violent coughing fit.

Who was Mo Shaoyun? In Yanjing, her name was virtually synonymous with renown. Yet, this disheveled individual before him, whose only discernible positive quality seemed to be his handsome features, was boldly proclaiming himself to be the husband of Yanjing's most celebrated beauty, Mo Shaoyun?

"I need to enter," Zhang Xian stated, his gaze fixed on the guard.

"I apologize, sir, but our compound is rather exclusive. Entry is restricted for ordinary individuals unless they possess explicit permission from the property owner or can furnish verifiable identification." The security guard scrutinized Zhang Xian once more, a shrewd glint in his eyes as he posed a question, "By the way, do you happen to have a cellphone? If not, I can assist you with a call. Simply provide Mo Shaoyun's contact number."

"I do not possess her cellphone number," Zhang Xian replied, his brow furrowed as he shook his head.

Prior to departing his secluded mountain dwelling, his teacher had furnished him solely with an address, instructing him to seek out Mo Shaoyun directly. Zhang Xian remained uncertain if this was some sort of trial or if his elderly mentor genuinely lacked Mo Shaoyun's contact details.

"Hmm..." The security guard, evident disappointment etched on his face, shook his head. "I regret to inform you that under these circumstances, I cannot grant you entry."

"How can you possibly deny me entry? I am here on a personal visit. Must I be made to wait outside indefinitely?" Zhang Xian voiced his complaint, adding, "If you remain unconvinced, you may accompany me. Once confirmation is obtained, you are free to depart."

"That would be against regulations," the security guard reiterated, shaking his head. "You claim to be seeking someone, yet you offer no tangible proof of your connection. If you were genuinely acquainted with someone here, surely you would possess their contact details, wouldn't you?"

"But I do not," Zhang Xian responded, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice.

"Then, is it not logical to suspect that you are, in fact, not acquainted with Mo Shaoyun at all?" The security guard's frown deepened. "You must understand, Mo Shaoyun holds a prominent position in Yanjing. Her name is recognized by nearly everyone."

"My wife is truly that well-known?" Zhang Xian's heart felt a flicker of anxiety.

"Cough, cough..." The security guard struggled to maintain his composure, fighting the urge to bang his head against a solid surface.

He had harbored suspicions about Zhang Xian's true intentions from the outset. He also found it highly improbable that Mo Shaoyun would be married to someone of Zhang Xian's apparent caliber. Now, learning that Zhang Xian possessed such limited knowledge about his so-called wife rendered him speechless.

It appeared Zhang Xian's understanding of Mo Shaoyun was even more superficial than that of a mere security guard. Could a person like this truly be Mo Shaoyun's husband?

"Hey! Everyone's waiting on you! What's with all this idle chatter? You, simpleton." A second security guard emerged, casting a disdainful look at Zhang Xian. "You have the audacity to claim you are Mo Shaoyun's husband? Do you even grasp the significance of Mo Shaoyun in Yanjing? Do you understand what she represents? Do you truly believe an ethereal figure like Mo Shaoyun is someone you can casually declare yourself married to? If you possess any sense, you'll vanish from here immediately."