The Versatile Master Artist

The core of the presidential security team consists of officers who have received overseas military training.

Some media reports have pointed out that in 30% of the countries in Central Africa and Latin America, the presidential security teams have undergone overseas military training.

Gu Weijing is not surprised by this answer.

He had observed before that those VIP protection group tough guys who stood guard at his own calligraphy and painting store followed exclusively American-style procedures and tactical commands, quite different from the habits of the local military.

”Brother Gu, what brings you to see me?” Uncle Ah Lai asked.

”Two things. Mainly, I’d like to draw a pen sketch for you. Also, if it’s suitable... I’d like to hire you as my personal assistant.”

Gu Weijing extended the invitation.

Given his current income and daily schedule,

he had reached a point where he needed to consider hiring a formal personal assistant.

On the one hand, his art studio in Good Fortune Orphanage was getting more cluttered and needed organizing.

Now that a construction team was moving in, with so many hands around, not to mention his own artwork, even the art supplies of those art students aren’t cheap, vigilance is necessary.

Gu Weijing also planned to install a small temperature-controlled safe, and send over the ”Hundred Flowers Painting” that artist Tang Ning had loaned him, to the orphanage studio.

This way, when Professor Lin Tao delivered online classes, Gu Weijing wouldn’t have to shuttle between places.

Although covered by commercial insurance, this renowned painting, worth around a hundred thousand dollars, could at least buy a Porsche sports car; losing it would be no laughing matter.

The other concern was Miao Angwen.

The unpleasant knee blow at the campus gate taught Gu Weijing a lesson; he truly was never afraid of someone legitimate like Brother Hao, an underworld godfather.

A mob boss who can truly make a mark usually follows a measured approach with rules.

They may be ruthless, but they care about their methods, public opinion, and may even consider international consequences.

Even Latin American drug lords are busy building bridges and roads at home.

As for Brother Hao,

whether it’s Elder Cao behind Gu Weijing, or internationally renowned artists like Uncle Sakai, or Boss Chen, a prominent figure in Yangon, anyone speaking on his behalf could likely oblige Brother Hao to show some consideration.

Even during the Spring Festival, when a bald man approached a powerless, underprivileged student like him, everyone operated within a range, mainly focusing on reconciliation.

As long as he remained true to himself, it was merely a matter of resisting temptation.

If not for this bit of confidence, Gu Weijing would have long emigrated with his entire family overnight, not waiting to graduate.

In street brawls, it’s often the newly initiated, reckless gangsters who end up causing fatal injuries.

It’s people like Miao Angwen, these hotheads, who are concerning.

Gu Weijing even thought back to the shooting he witnessed outside Fitz’s school gate.

In contemplating the timing, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was Miao Angwen’s initiation after joining Brother Hao’s gang.

Even if Miao Angwen wasn’t the gunman, he might very well have been involved in such a daylight murder case.

Someone who has just shed blood might do anything.

If he were to inexplicably get shot at the school gate again, or get stabbed in the stomach by some delinquent punks, he wouldn’t even have a place to cry.

Whether it was watching over the art studio or picking himself up at the school gate after class,

in Gu Weijing’s eyes, Uncle Ah Lai was an excellent choice.

A starved camel is still bigger than a horse.

According to Koukou’s father’s claim, Uncle Ah Lai was the founder of a security unit for a state leader.

Even if his leg was slightly lame,

to intimidate some street punks and ensure his safety was well within his capacity.

”You want me to work for you?”

Uncle Ah Lai frowned slightly, set down his book, and looked at the middle schooler seated before him, seemingly assessing him.

”Jasmine indeed favors you, and I know your family may have some money, but expecting me to risk my life, to be your little henchman... Heh.”

Uncle Ah Lai’s tone was slightly disdainful, even somewhat mocking.

”Brother Gu, I’ve always quite liked you, so I won’t say any harsh words. Please, go back.”

Who is he?

Back in the day, when he was involved in anti-drug operations in the original jungles of the Golden Triangle, Kunsha’s armed forces were still engaged in heavy artillery exchanges with the Myanmar government, a real figure emerging from amidst corpses and blood.

Later, those whom he served and protected were either state leaders or high-ranking dignitaries.

Just when he made it to Colonel with actual authority at the young age of 40, he was just a step away from the real power echelons of the military.

Even if Uncle Ah Lai were swept out of the army, so what?

He remained at the orphanage merely watching the entrance, simply because he felt disillusioned with his past life.

In such a chaotic place as Myanmar, plenty of wealthy bosses, jade mine owners wanted to hire him as a bodyguard, or underworld big shots wanted such a ruthless person as a henchman.

If he wished, an underworld godfather like Brother Hao wouldn’t hesitate to spend tens of thousands of dollars a year to recruit him.

The former, Uncle Ah Lai disdains, and the latter, he is unwilling.

Now, a teenager with a slightly immature appearance came up to him, confidently asking him to work for him.

If not for Little Girl Mo Li genuinely liking this guy,

and this middle schooler showing an unfeigned patience and kindness to the orphans,

Uncle Ah Lai wouldn’t even have the slightest interest in engaging with him.