HGG - 13

“Song Yi is someone as important to me… as my grandmother !” he slowly stepped in front of Song Yi, his tone sinister as he stared at the other man and delivered that line. “No, make that my maternal grandmother!”

The moment the second half of the sentence left his lips, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Shan Jingyi, along with everyone else passing through the karaoke hall corridor, turned their attention toward them.

Chi Zhao’s brain was clearly malfunctioning. Why not just say “grandmother”? Why did it have to be maternal grandmother?!

At this point, Shan Jingyi thought to himself: surely this woman must finally see Chi Zhao for who he really is?

Song Yi was also caught off guard, turning her gaze toward Chi Zhao.

However, much to Shan Jingyi’s astonishment, she saw nothing but an approving glow in Song Yi’s eyes—

What on earth was wrong with this woman?!

Meanwhile, Shan Jingyi’s secretary hurriedly emerged from the private room, teetering on high heels, stumbling over to hide behind him. She looked pitiful as she complained: “Young Master Jing, is this guy even sane? He borrowed my phone—I thought he wanted to save a contact—but instead, he started playing Snake on it…”

Realizing his secret phone antics were about to be exposed, Chi Zhao immediately cut her off and pulled Song Yi away, heading for the exit.

As they passed by the private room, they gave a hasty greeting. The driver was waiting downstairs. On the way back, Song Yi suddenly spoke up: “Why specifically your maternal grandmother?”

Chi Zhao paused for a moment before answering: “My maternal grandmother was better looking.”

When the car pulled over, Song Yi got out just in time to bump into Chi Yu coming downstairs to take out the trash.

They nodded politely to each other in greeting. Song Yi suddenly remembered that he was Chi Zhao’s brother, but when she turned around, the car’s taillights had already flashed once at the intersection and disappeared.

Seizing the opportunity, Song Yi brought up the issue of his late-night classical music with Chi Yu face-to-face.

Chi Yu scratched his head, looking slightly embarrassed. “Sorry about that. I can’t fall asleep without listening to some music at night.”

Then why don’t you use headphones?!

“My ears are sensitive. I can’t wear them.”

Song Yi, who had been deprived of sleep for days, maintained a calm exterior while inwardly seething with anger. She tried to keep her tone level: “I apologize, but your actions have severely disrupted my work and life. As I’m working under Mr. Chi…”

Chi Yu suddenly froze, as if recalling something important: “Wait—if you’re a secretary, does that mean you work for Chi Zhao?”

“That’s correct.”

Chi Yu didn’t say anything more, but true to his word, he didn’t play any music that night.

When Song Yi casually mentioned this to Xia Fan during a chat at the office, he didn’t seem surprised.

“It’s normal,” Xia Fan said, taking a sip of coffee. “After all, it’s almost time for him to visit Mr. Chi again.”

“What do you mean?”

A call came through to the front desk, which Xia Fan answered. After hanging up, he said: “Speak of the devil. Go out and greet him for me.”

Song Yi pushed open the door and headed for the elevator. Sure enough, she spotted her neighbor waiting there.

Chi Yu wore an oversized checkered linen shirt. His hair appeared to have been combed, though it still looked unkempt. He slouched slightly, glancing around nervously, standing in stark contrast to the polished elites bustling about Chongming Games.

Song Yi waited for him from afar, inexplicably feeling a pang of pity as she watched him.

She led him into Chi Zhao’s office, where Xia Fan had already prepared a few pages of documents and a check. Song Yi discreetly scanned the room, only to realize that Chi Zhao, who had been drawing on the computer just moments ago, had vanished without a trace.

“Here’s the payment for your last job. This is for the next quarter’s tasks,” Xia Fan said, his voice suddenly trailing off. “Ah, I forgot a page. Miss Song, could you go fetch it from Mr. Chi’s drawer?”

Song Yi walked over, only to find Chi Zhao hiding under the desk, lost in thought.

They locked eyes for a few awkward seconds. True to her professionalism as a secretary, Song Yi calmly averted her gaze, pretending not to see him as she retrieved the document. She then stood up and handed it to Xia Fan.

Chi Yu thanked her repeatedly in a timid voice before leaving.

Once she confirmed he was gone, Chi Zhao crawled out from under the desk and resumed drawing as if nothing had happened.

After returning to her cubicle, Xia Fan, mindful of her earlier question, kindly explained: “Mr. Chi Yu’s career hasn’t been going well for years. He’s been relying on Mr. Chi Zhao for financial support.”

“And those ‘tasks’ are…”

“Just an excuse Mr. Chi Zhao gives to preserve his brother’s dignity,” Xia Fan said, fiddling with the mouse for a moment before turning back to her. “But this is something Mr. Chi Yu mustn’t know about.”

“I understand,” Song Yi nodded, glancing through the glass at Chi Zhao, who now wore a blank expression. “By the way, am I imagining things, or does Mr. Chi seem reluctant to see his brother?”

“It’s not your imagination,” Xia Fan said firmly. “They had a falling out some time ago. I don’t know the details.”

Chi Zhao chimed in via intercom: “Song Yi, we’re out of cola.”

“I’ll bring you some warm milk right away,” she replied.

She stood up and left. Chi Zhao, looking troubled, rested his forehead on the desk, only lifting it when he heard her footsteps approaching.

Holding the cup of milk with both hands, he asked unhappily: “Do you think I should postpone the promotional song release?”

“What’s making you consider that?”

“It’s too close to my brother’s funeral,” Chi Zhao tapped his fingers against the cup. “Though we’ve more or less accepted what happened, the media is relentless. And there’s still no final word on the inheritance matter—Uncle Zhan must really want to kill me…”

Despite voicing his concerns, he still managed a smile.

When lost in thought, Chi Zhao always stared into space, his lips slightly curved upward, though his smile lacked any soul. His dry, tousled hair made Song Yi want to touch him.

Suppressing the urge, she turned around, only to spot an incongruous plaid linen bag on the sofa.

It was something Chi Yu had left behind.

Song Yi immediately picked it up and headed downstairs. Fortunately, Chi Yu hadn’t gone far, and she caught him just outside the entrance.

It must be said, the sight of Chongyou’s well-known secretary calling out “Mr. Chi” in the main hall naturally drew attention. However, once people realized it wasn’t Chi Zhao, they quickly dispersed.

Chi Yu looked a bit awkward as he thanked her, then scratched his head. “Miss Song, could I trouble you for a moment? It won’t take long!”

“What is it?”

“It’ll just be a quick coffee downstairs,” Chi Yu waved dismissively.

Song Yi glanced at her phone; she didn’t have any pressing work at the moment. She nodded in agreement.

Sitting across from each other, Chi Yu stammered: “Today… was Xiao Zhao actually in the office?”

Song Yi’s expression betrayed no hint of deception: “You know, Mr. Chi is always very busy.”

“He’s been like that since we were young. Even though he’s always supported me financially, he’s never seemed particularly happy to see me.”

Song Yi stirred her coffee, offering a polite response: “Perhaps there’s been some misunderstanding between the two of you.”

“Miss Song,” Chi Yu’s sudden sincerity made her feel a bit uneasy, “I’m truly at my wit’s end. I really want to mend my relationship with him.”

The word “mend” piqued Song Yi’s interest slightly.

Chi Yu then recounted the past events that had led to their “misunderstanding.”

Chi Yu and Chi Zhao were close in age, so they often played together as children.

As they grew older, Chi Yu developed an interest in art. Thanks to the resources of the Chi family, he was able to study under one of the top teachers in the field.

Feeling lonely without his playmate, Chi Zhao, out of boredom, began learning painting alongside Chi Yu.

Unexpectedly—

This turned into a story where the accompanying student passed the exam while the actual candidate failed.

After months of instruction from a renowned teacher at a top domestic art university, Chi Zhao was recommended to study abroad.

Chi Yu had always dreamed of studying oil painting in Italy but ended up failing the exam.

Chi Zhao passed but chose to go to Paris instead.

Chi Zhao was indifferent about it. To him, painting was like eating—it wasn’t something to feel proud about doing well. But the less he cared, the more painful it became for Chi Yu.

In the end, one day, overwhelmed by anger, Chi Yu shouted: “I never want to see you again.”

To his surprise, Chi Zhao took those words to heart and disappeared from his life.

After hearing the full story, Song Yi fell silent for a long time.

“Forgive me for being blunt,” her voice was cold and objective, almost robotic, “but this is entirely your fault.”

Under Chi Yu’s shocked gaze, Song Yi continued mercilessly: “But it’s not impossible to fix. Mr. Chi isn’t particularly difficult to deal with. A sincere apology might win his forgiveness.”

She stood up and went to the counter to pack some donuts to take back for Chi Zhao. Since she was already here, she might as well bring him something to eat.

Behind her, Chi Yu muttered incredulously to himself: Chi Zhao, difficult to deal with?

Back upstairs, Song Yi took the opportunity to sign for some deliveries.

Upon entering the office and seeing Chi Zhao, she recalled the earlier conversation. “Mr. Chi, why did you start studying oil painting?”

Without looking up, Chi Zhao hesitated for a few seconds before replying: “Because applying primer felt like spreading cream. I liked it.”

He clearly didn’t want to talk about it. Sensing this, Song Yi tactfully dropped the subject. As she sorted through the packages, she noticed one addressed to her.

Tearing open the packaging, she pulled out a plush teddy bear.

As soon as she held it up, Chi Zhao appeared behind her. “What’s this? Who sent it?” He reached out, and Song Yi nonchalantly handed it over.

There was also a card underneath. Song Yi picked it up: “It’s from Liu Jun.”

“Liu Jun?” Chi Zhao stared at the teddy bear’s face, feeling like the name sounded familiar.

“A classmate from university. The one I had dinner with last time,” Song Yi explained.

“To send this to an ex-girlfriend—he’s insane,” Chi Zhao sneered.

“Maybe,” Song Yi said, carrying the empty box to the trash can. She flipped the card over and examined it closely. It was an invitation to a class reunion.

A red mech face suddenly blocked her view of the invitation. Looking up, she saw Chi Zhao handing her a Transformers model.

His expression remained neutral: “For you. It’s my favorite Iron Giant model. The metal parts and lighting details are fantastic.”

Song Yi was baffled, watching as he turned and walked back to his seat.

Before sitting down, Chi Zhao added: “Much better than a teddy bear.”

She shifted her gaze, nodding innocently: “Thank you.”