HGG - 15

Throughout the entire process of Song Yi cooking porridge, preparing cold medicine, and cleaning the house, Chi Zhao had been intermittently mumbling and narrating his favorite fairy tales.

At one point, she walked over to place a cold towel on his forehead. As she leaned down, she realized he was just finishing a story that ended with “they lived happily ever after.”

A beautiful fairy tale, told by a lonely narrator lying sick in bed. Song Yi stepped out of the room but turned back shortly after. The room was unlit, shrouded in gray dimness, where only his solitary figure could be faintly discerned.

After hesitating for a moment, she finally returned to check his forehead.

It seemed like his fever had gone down a bit. But leaving a sick person alone still wasn’t ideal. Song Yi wandered around the living room for a few hours before collapsing onto the sofa in exhaustion.

It was so comfortable.

She rested the back of her head against the chair, not intending to nap when she closed her eyes. Yet sleep overtook her all at once, and when she woke up, it was already morning.

Opening her eyes brought on a slight headache. A secretary’s job required her to always be ready to work, but over time, her body couldn’t keep up, and she became what Xia Fan had jokingly referred to as someone who could sleep anywhere.

At this moment, she noticed a blanket covering her.

Song Yi sat up, unease spreading through her mind. She pushed open the door to Chi Zhao’s bedroom, only to find it empty.

She pulled out her phone to see a brief message from Chi Zhao, filled with Martian text symbols: “See you at the office.”

After freshening up in the restroom at the subway station and applying light makeup, she hurried to Chongyou, only to run into Zhou Shuhua in the elevator.

“Eh? Isn’t that the same outfit you were wearing yesterday?” Zhou Shuhua nudged her with her elbow. “Secretary Song, did you spend the night at your boyfriend’s place?”

“No…” Song Yi suddenly choked on her saliva, clutching the elevator wall as she coughed violently but still managed to finish her sentence in a flustered tone, “He’s not my boyfriend!”

The elevator doors opened, and Chi Zhao was standing outside. After exchanging a few friendly words with the subordinate who had accompanied him, he stepped inside, his gaze immediately locking onto Song Yi.

For no apparent reason, in this situation, Song Yi instinctively avoided his eyes.

But Chi Zhao, now standing still, stubbornly persisted in trying to catch her gaze. He leaned toward her, and Song Yi desperately turned her head the other way.

Seeing her resistance, Chi Zhao finally gave up. He straightened himself, pulled out his phone, and asked casually while tapping on it: “Secretary Song, did you sleep well last night? My place should have been quite comfortable, right?”

Song Yi was caught completely off guard.

When the elevator doors opened again, the employees outside saw Chi Zhao inside and quickly decided against boarding, opting instead to greet him respectfully with a “Good morning.” Chi Zhao responded with a smile, and once the elevator became an enclosed space again, Zhou Shuhua sweetly chimed in: “If I may ask, what is the relationship between President Chi and Secretary Song?”

Chi Zhao chuckled softly, leaning against the wall as he swiped through his phone. He remained silent.

Song Yi turned her head, answering calmly and composedly: “A clean superior-subordinate relationship in the workplace.”

Chi Zhao’s illness took a few more days to fully recover, but he had already returned to the office to work before then.

With the internal testing of ACDF about to begin, the company was in the midst of its busiest period.

Gradually, Song Yi began to join in the lunchtime chats of the female employees downstairs. They often went together to the company’s buffet restaurant, and during these times, Song Yi inevitably heard plenty of gossip.

For example, Zhan Xiaohong had returned to the U.S. Or how last year on Women’s Day, Chi Zhao gifted every female employee a humidifier. This year, everyone eagerly anticipated something similar, but Chi Zhao, overwhelmed with work, forgot. In the end, it was Zhan Heqing who compensated by giving out bonuses.

Being stationed on the top floor, Song Yi was somewhat cut off from such news and felt unable to participate in these conversations. Just as she quietly took a bite of salad, she was suddenly pressed: “Secretary Song, share some intel with us.”

“Hmm,” she asked, “What do you want to know?”

“Why doesn’t President Chi have a girlfriend?”

Upon hearing the question, it wasn’t Song Yi who reacted first—it was Zhou Shuhua, who let out a soft laugh.

After pondering for a moment, Song Yi solemnly replied: “He says it’s because it’s not fun.”

“Ah…” Everyone sighed collectively. Someone astutely commented, “If someone else said that, it’d probably be a lie. But when President Chi says it, for some reason, it feels incredibly convincing.”

“That’s right,” chimed in a young receptionist. “A few years ago, when he rejected the female manager from the marketing department, he said, ‘Focus on working hard and think of more fun things.’”

“But surely there must be women around him, right?”

Just as everyone lowered their voices and discussed fervently, Zhou Shuhua suddenly smiled sweetly and said: “You can ask Secretary Song. She’s always by President Chi’s side, so she must know best.”

The topic shifted back to Song Yi once again.

Before she could speak, her phone rang—it was a call from the office. Song Yi immediately rose for work, excusing herself and heading for the stairs.

Though she hadn’t answered, the words of her female colleagues earlier still lingered in her mind.

Women.

Aside from herself and Aunt Wang, there weren’t many women regularly around Chi Zhao.

But suddenly, she remembered a painting.

There was a painting at Chi Yu’s place—a portrait of Chi Zhao, depicting a woman.

Song Yi became lost in thought, nearly forgetting to request leave for the weekend.

The next day was their university class reunion.

Initially, Song Yi hadn’t planned to attend. However, the group organized an outing to a beauty salon, and she had recently considered getting some treatments. Going alone might leave her unsure of the procedures, so it seemed better to tag along with others.

On the day of the reunion, she changed into a pre-prepared dress, applied light makeup, and headed to the designated restaurant.

Reuniting with old friends from university, everyone looked much the same, and the atmosphere was warm and harmonious. Even someone like Song Yi, whose social circle was rather limited, received a warm welcome from her classmates.

As they took their seats, she discreetly scanned the room and noticed Liu Jun and his girlfriend had come together.

Sitting beside Song Yi was the former class monitor—short in stature but sturdy, often bossy, always acting like the big brother of the group.

His temperament was also bold and unrestrained. His hand constantly rested on the back of Song Yi’s chair, forcing her to shift her seat every ten minutes.

As the conversation flowed, they naturally drifted to topics of marriage and career.

After going around the table, when it came to Song Yi, everyone’s reaction was: “Dry Ice probably hasn’t dated yet, right?”

“Back then, she finally found someone in Liu Jun, but alas.”

“But she didn’t seem too heartbroken, did she? I remember she still ranked in the top ten of our grade during finals.”

“After all, she’s Dry Ice. Do you think she’d be upset over these trivial matters like ordinary people?”

Both Liu Jun and his girlfriend were present, making this topic particularly awkward. It should have ended there, but Liu Jun’s girlfriend couldn’t swallow her pride.

And this time, she was confident she could turn the tables on the humiliation she had suffered before.

“Song Yi seems pretty happy with her boyfriend now, right?” Liu Jun tried to smooth things over, but his girlfriend, carefully dressed for the occasion, spoke up: “We actually met him last time.”

Hearing this, Song Yi immediately felt a chill run down her spine—an ominous premonition.

That day, after returning home, Liu Jun’s girlfriend had been seething with anger.

She was furious.

After all, stealing Liu Jun away from Song Yi had involved being the “other woman,” and she had endured plenty of judgmental stares. But thinking of Liu Jun’s business-savvy parents and his relatively handsome appearance, she consoled herself that it was worth it.

Looking at Song Yi, a woman who seemed completely oblivious to romance, she felt like nothing compared to her.

Liu Jun’s girlfriend believed taking Liu Jun away from Song Yi was simply the natural order of things. Giving him to Song Yi would have been a waste.

However, when she saw Song Yi’s “new boyfriend,” she felt as if she’d been slapped twice across the face.

Even after returning home, she couldn’t let it go and searched online for Chi Zhao’s name. To her surprise, there was plenty of detailed information about him online, allowing her to easily uncover his identity.

Knowing about Chongming confirmed her suspicions—there was no way Chi Zhao could be Song Yi’s boyfriend.

Not showing up at a class reunion? That sealed her theory. Now was the perfect time to bring it up.

“Is that so?” The class monitor beside her immediately turned his head, the smell of alcohol wafting over. “Song Yi, you’re seeing someone?”

A fleeting expression of embarrassment crossed Song Yi’s otherwise stoic face. Reaping the consequences of lying carelessly, she tried to downplay it: “There might be some misunderstanding…”

Liu Jun’s girlfriend immediately clapped her hands in delight, almost raising her arms in triumph.

“I told you,” one classmate laughed. “By the way, Monitor, you’re still single too, right? You used to look after Song Yi a lot.”

More like being overly controlling than looking after her. Before Song Yi could deny it, another classmate jumped in: “Yes! Dry Ice may be cold, but she’s also very pretty. Monitor’s doing quite well now. Old classmates know each other inside out. Why don’t you two…”

After a few rounds of drinks, everyone was still young and hot-blooded. The restless atmosphere ignited instantly, boiling over.

“Get together!” Someone shouted, their voice high-pitched and highly inciting.

Song Yi felt as though she were in Antarctica, turning her head to reject the idea alongside the monitor, only to meet an oily grin instead.

The burly 180-pound monitor, at this moment, actually blushed coyly.

Liu Jun sat frowning at his seat, while his girlfriend proudly stood up: “Song Yi, you and your monitor make a great pair. Just agree to him!”

“Get together! Get together! Get together!” The participants were having fun, and the onlookers grew even more excited.

The clamor around them was splitting headaches. Song Yi raised her head.

She answered neither humble nor arrogant: “I refuse.”

No means no. When she didn’t want to entertain the atmosphere, being treated as dry ice was fine too.

The Antarctic wind blew in, and everyone slowly quieted down. Some complained, “Song Yi really can’t take a joke,” but the next second, they involuntarily fell silent, stepping aside to make way.

No one knew when he had arrived.

Dressed luxuriously, with a leisurely demeanor, he walked in, treading over a sea of astonished and envious gazes. With just a smile, he silently conveyed a warning: “Do not block my path.”

Sunlight grazed his shoulders as it spilled in from outside, and Song Yi squinted, closing her eyes momentarily.

“Chi Zhao,” she instinctively called his name.