Spamming

The next morning was a literal disaster

Xiao Shen was trying to enjoy his one luxury—a lukewarm instant coffee—while Meiling complained about her math homework.

His phone, which usually only buzzed for low-paying delivery alerts, started vibrating so hard it nearly walked itself off the cracked plastic table.

**Unknown Number:** *The pizza was mid.*

**Unknown Number:** *Actually, it was trash.*

**Unknown Number:** *I threw it at my gardener.*

**Unknown Number:** *Are you awake, Little Bully?*

Shen stared at the screen, a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth. He didn't need a detective to know who this was. He swallowed hard and typed back with one thumb.

**Shen:** *How did you get my number?*

**Unknown Number:** *I own the app, Xiao Shen. I own the building you live in. I probably own the air you’re breathing right now. Don’t ask stupid questions.*

**Shen:** *I’m blocking you.*

**Unknown Number:** *If you block me, I’ll have your scooter towed from that illegal spot you parked it in. 3… 2… 1…*

Shen looked out the window at his beat-up scooter. He cursed under his breath.

**Shen:** *What do you want, you psycho? I’m working.*

**Unknown Number:** *I’m bored.

Entertainment in this city is at an all-time low. Come deliver me a coffee.*

**Unknown Number:** *Wait, no. A smoothie. One of those green ones that tastes like grass and regret.*

**Unknown Number:** *Actually, just come here and let me insult your shoes again. They were tragic.*

**Shen:** *Eat glass, Wei Xun. I’m not your personal servant. Call the app like a normal person.*

**Unknown Number:** *The app is too slow. I want the Guy. I’ll pay you double what you made yesterday just to stand in my kitchen and look annoyed for twenty minutes.*

Shen ignored the message and headed out. He spent the next four hours trying to work, but his phone was a war zone. Wei Xun was relentless. Every five minutes, a new notification popped up.

**Wei Xun:** *Did you die?*

**Wei Xun:** *If you died, who is going to tell me I’m a brat?*

**Wei Xun:** *I just bought a cat. It looks like you. Very grumpy and refuses to listen.*

**Wei Xun:** *[Image: A high-definition photo of a very expensive, very angry-looking Persian cat sitting on a silk pillow.]*

**Wei Xun:** *See? Identical.*

"I hate rich people," Shen hissed, dodging a delivery truck. "I hate them so much."

By 2:00 PM, Shen was exhausted and hungry. He stopped at a convenience store for a bun when his phone rang. It wasn't a text. It was a FaceTime call. He accidentally hit "Accept" while trying to shove the phone into his pocket.

The screen filled with Wei Xun’s face. He was wearing oversized designer sunglasses indoors, lounging by a pool that looked like it belonged in a movie.

"There he is," Wei Xun smirked, his voice dripping with privilege. "You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, Shen."

"I'm at work, you absolute menace!" Shen yelled into the phone, ignoring the weird looks from the cashier. "Stop spamming me! I have a job! I have responsibilities! I don't have time to be your digital pet!"

"You're yelling again. It’s cute," Wei Xun said, tilting his head. "I sent a car to your location. It’s the black one with the tinted windows behind you. Get in. We’re going shopping."

Shen froze and turned around. A sleek, terrifyingly expensive sedan was idling right at the curb. The driver stepped out, looking like a professional hitman in a suit.

"I am not getting in that car," Shen said into the phone.

"The driver has a bag of those spicy dumplings you like," Wei Xun said casually. "And a new helmet for your sister. The pink one she wanted."

Shen’s jaw dropped. "How do you know about—"

"I told you, Shen. I’m an arrogant bastard with too much money. Now, get in the car before I have the driver start singing opera in the middle of the street. He’s terrible at it. It’ll be embarrassing for everyone."

Shen looked at the car, then at his phone, then at his bank balance.

"I’m going to kill you," Shen whispered.

"I’d like to see you try," Wei Xun laughed, and the line went dead.

Xiao Shen stomped toward the car, muttering every curse word he knew in three different languages. This wasn't a job anymore. This was a hostage situation, and the kidnapper had really good taste in dumplings.

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