HGG - 14

In the end, the promotional song release event wasn’t postponed.

Since the game’s official release event hadn’t passed review, they had to ensure this promotional song garnered enough attention. On the day of the event, Chi Zhao was taken to get styled for his appearance on camera.

As Song Yi walked through the corridor, distributing promotional materials before entering the venue, she saw that he had been meticulously groomed and was now dressed in a slate-gray suit, flipping through some documents.

Noticing her entrance, Chi Zhao looked up and smiled.

That smile pierced straight into her eyes, leaving Song Yi momentarily stunned. She hesitated for a moment before stepping inside: “Everything has been arranged.”

“You’ve worked hard,” Chi Zhao replied softly, then lowered his head to continue reading through the event flow.

Even though attendees had been screened, the crowd was still a mixed bag. As people came and went, Song Yi couldn’t help but notice the models who lingered conspicuously nearby.

Whenever Chi Zhao stepped out to use the restroom, they would rush after him. Unfortunately for them, before they could even pull out their contact cards, Chi Zhao would already be long gone.

Xia Fan later explained to Song Yi: “It’s tough for women in that industry to make it big, and their careers are short-lived. Most of them are looking for someone to rely on. A young, wealthy man like Mr. Chi is an ideal target.”

Song Yi nodded thoughtfully, neither disdainful nor sympathetic. When the time came, she reminded Chi Zhao to go out. However, when they got outside, she spotted Shan Jingyi sitting in the front row.

He was also looking at her. Pretending not to notice, Song Yi focused entirely on connecting Chi Zhao’s computer.

Everything went smoothly. The journalists asking questions had been prepped, and no one posed any tricky queries.

However, after the event ended, as they were heading to the underground parking garage, they encountered a group of reporters lying in wait. Sure enough, one of them brought up that topic—

“Mr. Chi, isn’t it inappropriate to hold this release event so close to your brother’s funeral?”

Chi Zhao, who had been looking at his phone, raised his head at this. Song Yi hesitated, unsure whether to step in, but Chi Zhao calmly responded: “When I first entered the gaming industry, everyone around me—my predecessors and family—opposed it, except for my older brother, Mr. Chi Chong.”

The female reporter hadn’t expected him to actually respond. She had been hoping to snap a few shots of the president of Chongming Games fleeing awkwardly. To her surprise, Chi Zhao didn’t run; instead, he confidently walked up to them.

His unpredictable, almost alien-like presence was somewhat intimidating. Even the lead female reporter instinctively took a few steps back. But the next moment, Chi Zhao firmly grasped her hand holding the voice recorder.

With unwavering focus, Chi Zhao stared directly into the camera, his eyes slightly glowing as he spoke with conviction: “ACDF is not only the culmination of my personal efforts but also the collective hard work of everyone at Chongming Games. Moreover, it represents my brother’s expectations for me. I cannot let down Chi Chong’s support.

“In addition, there’s a magician character in the game specifically designed based on Chi Chong. I hope this serves as a tribute to my elder brother. Everyone is warmly invited to experience this heartfelt creation of ours.”

After delivering this emotionally charged statement, Chi Zhao turned, waved casually, and elegantly climbed into the car, leaving the reporters standing there in stunned silence.

The cameraman couldn’t help but mutter: “This guy’s camera presence is unreal…”

The female reporter whose hand Chi Zhao had held clutched her wildly beating heart, dazed: “He’s so handsome…”

Back in the car, Chi Zhao took a sip of cola: “Phew, that scared me. I almost bit my tongue.”

Song Yi gazed at Chi Zhao, her emotions complex.

She knew Chi Zhao was highly skilled professionally, but she hadn’t expected him to be so adept at handling emergencies like this.

Xia Fan turned around from the passenger seat to brief Chi Zhao on the upcoming schedule for visiting Chongming headquarters. Chi Zhao turned his head, catching Song Yi’s subtle glance just then.

No one spoke, and the atmosphere in the car froze for a few seconds.

Then Chi Zhao broke the silence first: “Um… sorry?”

“What?” Song Yi was genuinely confused.

Suddenly, Chi Zhao grabbed her hand, held it for a few seconds, then let go, saying: “Alright, we’re even.”

Song Yi: “???”

She was stunned for a few more seconds, wanting to clarify that she hadn’t minded him holding the female reporter’s hand. However, they had already moved on to discussing other work matters, so she let it slide.

This trip to Chongming headquarters, Song Yi didn’t accompany them.

According to Chi Zhao: “Uncle Zhan is too terrifying. This dungeon raid is purely gear-grinding; it’s meaningless. I’ll call you next time.”

But the supposedly weak Chi Zhao, who likened negotiating with upper management to playing games, wasn’t as powerless as he claimed. Upon returning, even Xia Fan paused mid-keyboard typing to exclaim: “Our boss is truly a genius child.”

Song Yi glanced at him: “Did you really have to add ‘child’?”

Chi Zhao traded part of his equity for Chongming headquarters’ investment in Chongyou, while retaining the rest to ensure himself a seat on the board.

The only downside was that from then on, Chi Zhao would have to attend some meetings he detested.

Meanwhile, Song Yi also faced something she disliked.

When Song Zuo visited the company, the appointment call was directed to the secretary’s office. Song Yi wasn’t there, so Xia Fan answered the phone.

This was Song Zuo’s first visit to a youthful, vibrant company like Chongyou. In the past, he had always hoped Song Yi would pursue a more stable career, such as teaching or becoming a civil servant.

Unfortunately, by the time she graduated from university, Song Yi was no longer as obedient as she used to be. She insisted on finding a job, and it seemed her salary was quite decent.

However, when Song Zuo personally sat in his daughter’s boss’s office, under Chi Zhao’s unflinching gaze, the overwhelming amount of information made him feel dizzy.

Middle-aged individuals couldn’t handle such complicated situations.

Before this, Song Yi had returned home once while her parents were away.

She went to retrieve her luggage and left behind the password to that passbook.

However, Song Yi had already changed her salary account, so no more money would be deposited there. She intentionally reduced contact with her family, only transferring a fixed amount periodically.

If she couldn’t pull them out of the mire, she certainly couldn’t let herself be dragged into the swamp.

Holding the password, Song Zuo’s heart was a whirlpool of emotions. Eventually, he came to her workplace.

He wanted Song Yi to return home.

But under Chi Zhao’s sinister gaze, Song Zuo barely lasted ten minutes before standing up: “I should probably head back.”

Chi Zhao wasn’t feeling well today. Without a word, he stood up, walked over to Song Zuo, poured him a glass of water, and said two resounding words: “Please drink.”

When Song Yi returned to the office, this was the scene she walked into. Her father was gripping the glass of cold water Chi Zhao had poured, hesitating whether to drink it or not.

“How did you get here?” she instinctively began apologizing to her boss and colleagues. Song Zuo also pushed her toward the door.

Leaving Chi Zhao’s devilish lair of an office, Song Zuo spoke more smoothly: “Why did you move out without saying anything? Come back quickly!”

“Do you want me to come back, or do you want my money to come back?”

At this, Song Zuo was momentarily speechless. He stammered angrily: “We’re your parents! It’s only natural for us to use your money!”

Calm as ever, Song Yi replied: “You can use my money, but you can’t take it to gamble.”

“How dare you tell your father what to do! If you don’t let me gamble, you might as well kill me!” Song Zuo became overly emotional, forgetting where he was. “You want my life, huh? Fine, kill me then!

“You ungrateful brat, unfilial daughter! You shouldn’t have been born!”

Suddenly, the glass door swung open. Chi Zhao stood at the doorway, his discomfort making his mood worse than ever.

With his left hand propping the door, he raised his right arm, a gun in his hand.

Song Zuo immediately froze in fear, and Song Yi looked at him in confusion.

“You’re too noisy,” Chi Zhao said, pointing the gun at Song Zuo’s face. “Didn’t you say you wanted Song Yi to kill you? Me killing you works just fine, doesn’t it?”

Song Zuo trembled as he backed away.

“All you know is to take, without taking any responsibility. Is this how you treat your own child?” Chi Zhao continued, stepping forward, still pointing the gun at Song Zuo. “Song Yi gives you money because she wants to maintain your relationship. And you—do you only stay in touch with her because you want her money?”

Overwhelmed by fear, Song Zuo stuttered, unable to form coherent words. He kept retreating, while Chi Zhao pressed forward step by step.

Song Yi was too astonished to speak. As she stared at Chi Zhao’s back, a thought flickered through her mind—had he ever felt this desperate toward his own father?

When he jumped out the window, when he wanted to reclaim that bouquet of blue roses, when he watched his brother’s body surface from the river.

“Get out,” Chi Zhao said condescendingly, a mocking smile on his lips. “If you bother Song Yi again, I’ll deal with you.”

Song Zuo felt as if he’d been pardoned. He retreated several steps, confirming that Chi Zhao had put the gun down, before fleeing downstairs.

Chi Zhao listlessly turned around. This time, the gun was pointed at Song Yi.

He smiled, speaking softly: “Don’t listen to him. I’m glad Song Yi was born.”

Song Yi stared blankly at him, her fingers digging sharply into her palm. For some reason, something inside her stirred, like a pot of boiling water about to overflow from her chest.

Chi Zhao pulled the trigger, and clear water sprayed from the gun’s nozzle.

As the water gun fired, he burst out laughing, turning to shout at Xia Fan: “Xia Fan, this thing feels way too realistic! Hilarious! Can I buy this toy company? Let’s collaborate with them for ACDF merchandise!”

With that, he rushed back to his computer, completely immersed in his work.

Song Yi remained rooted to the spot. She clenched her teeth, repeatedly telling herself—I am dry ice, a machine, an emotionless… secretary.

She raised her hands to cup her face, forcing her burning ears back to their normal temperature.

But illness spares no workaholic.

The next day, Chi Zhao didn’t show up for work on time. His phone went unanswered, and he didn’t log into any games.

Xia Fan happened to be on leave. By the end of the workday, he handed Song Yi the passwords to four places where Chi Zhao often stayed.

“Go check on him, just in case he’s dead,” Xia Fan gave her the order without room for refusal.

Song Yi’s luck was good. She found Chi Zhao at the second place she visited.

Unexpectedly, Chi Zhao’s residence wasn’t as personalized as his office.

Ordinary decor, ordinary furnishings. Song Yi knocked on the bedroom door. Concerned for her boss’s safety, and receiving no response, she cautiously entered.

The jacket he wore the previous day was hung over the back of a chair, and his phone, constantly receiving messages, rested on the bedside table. Song Yi tiptoed closer, making a soft sound: “Mr. Chi?”

She saw Chi Zhao’s sleeping face.

He slept without a care, his beautiful features tinged with exhaustion. Relieved that she wouldn’t have to deal with a corpse, Song Yi exhaled deeply.

Just as she was about to pick up the phone to report to Xia Fan, her wrist was suddenly grabbed.

Before Song Yi could react, she was yanked and fell onto the bed. She heard the sound of sheets rustling, and when she came to, she found herself pinned beneath someone.

Meeting Chi Zhao’s vacant gaze, Song Yi guessed he had no idea what he was doing.

Feverish from a severe cold and extreme fatigue, his entire body burned with heat, nearly unconscious.

His voice was hoarse and low, laced with the smell of fever medicine: “There’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Song Yi would never forget this day.

The day when a delirious Chi Zhao told her over forty tales from Grimm’s Fairy Tales.