HGG - 17

Entering Chi Zhao’s name into a search engine revealed that the CEO of Chongming Culture and his wife were both descendants of famous conglomerates. Their marriage was considered a perfect match.

There was no room for anyone to interfere, at least not according to the information the media had uncovered.

“In reality, they were secretly divorced for a period. During that time, Chi Zhao’s father met his mother at a movie premiere.

“But his mother had no intention of being a housewife. Later, Chi Zhao’s father reconciled with his ex-wife, and the stepmother treated all the children equally. Their relationship is ordinary, the family harmonious—no infidelity, no illegitimate children. So there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

As Zhan Heqing explained this to Song Yi, he stood with his back to her in Chongyou’s smoking room, feeding fish.

Song Yi nodded thoughtfully.

This was a secret within their circle. Shan Jingyi had blurted it out but immediately entrusted her not to spread it.

Though she thought having an award-winning actress as a birth mother could hardly be considered “ordinary,” their standards were different from hers.

More pressing was the intelligence she had obtained from Shan Jingyi.

“What about what Shan Jingyi told Mr. Chi Yu?” Song Yi asked calmly. “He clearly intended to sow discord, right?”

This was one of the pieces of information Song Yi had exchanged for during her dinner with Shan Jingyi.

Shan Jingyi had gone to Chi Yu to tell him something—

Regarding Chi Chong’s death, Chi Zhao had concealed something from Chi Yu.

Song Yi waited for a long time but didn’t hear Zhan Heqing respond. Lately, he seemed preoccupied with something, to the point that he wasn’t as attentive to Chi Zhao as before.

She stood up, walked behind Zhan Heqing, and took over the fish food: “I’m not concerned about my superior’s privacy, but what could Mr. Chi Zhao possibly be hiding from his second brother?”

Zhan Heqing finally snapped out of it, pondering for a moment before saying: “I don’t find it surprising. Among the three of them, Chi Yu has the least talent and hasn’t achieved much. If Chi Zhao is hiding something from him, it’s likely at their father’s suggestion.”

Song Yi silently gazed at Zhan Heqing.

“By the way, Shan Jingyi is quite troublesome,” Zhan Heqing remarked. “But if he really likes you, there’s no need to be too resistant. What’s wrong with dating?”

Since when did Vice President Zhan start caring about his subordinates’ love lives? Song Yi politely replied: “No need to worry about me. I currently prioritize work.”

Ever since that dinner, Shan Jingyi had been sending flowers every day. Yesterday it was forget-me-nots, the day before it was baby’s breath, and today it was carnations.

Leaving the smoking room, Song Yi encountered Aunt Wang coming by with cleaning tools.

They exchanged pleasantries, and just as Zhan Heqing passed by, he pretended not to know her and left.

Aunt Wang glanced at him and whispered to Song Yi: “Is Vice President Zhan seeing someone?”

“Huh?” Song Yi didn’t immediately understand.

The cleaning staff roamed the company floors daily and were perhaps the most well-informed individuals.

“The other day, I saw a female employee visit his office, and the vice president was flustered.”

Song Yi followed Aunt Wang’s gaze toward Zhan Heqing’s retreating figure. His steps were light, almost bumping into a wall, and while waiting for the elevator, he even preened himself in the reflective elevator doors.

It seemed likely.

She nodded to Aunt Wang and quickly returned to the office.

Employees from the technical department downstairs were talking to Chi Zhao. Song Yi brewed some black tea and brought it over. As she turned to enter, Xia Fan flipped through some documents and said: “Want to go watch a movie during lunch break?”

“Eh?” Song Yi was surprised.

“The crazy bunch from the planning department set up a small cinema in the meeting room. They invited Mr. Chi to join them for lunch today.” Xia Fan said. “If you’re interested, you can check it out.”

Song Yi shook her head: “I want to rest.” The last time she watched a movie was when Chi Zhao took her to see a sci-fi film. This kind of occasion, Chi Zhao could go alone.

“I see.” Xia Fan replied indifferently. “I heard it’s a Hong Kong martial arts film that won Best Actress at Cannes.”

Upon hearing this, Song Yi suddenly raised her head. She asked: “What movie?”

It was the representative work of Chi Zhao’s birth mother.

“Does Mr. Chi know they’ll be watching this movie?” Song Yi asked.

“Probably not?” Xia Fan said. “After all, he’s been preoccupied with bug fixes all day…”

Without hesitation, Song Yi stood up, pushed open the cubicle door, and just as the other employees were leaving, Chi Zhao picked up his tablet: “Is something wrong?”

Summoning her courage, she blurted out: “Mr. Chi, let’s have lunch together today.”

“Hmm?” Chi Zhao raised his eyes, and the tablet slipped from his hands onto the floor. “What are we eating?”

Song Yi swallowed the word “cafeteria” that was on the tip of her tongue and quickly searched her mind for nearby restaurants that were affordable yet not too lowbrow. She said: “H-how about a sushi-go-round?”

Chi Zhao picked up his computer and casually replied: “Sure.”

Her plan was to spend the entire lunch break with Chi Zhao and return after the movie ended. Inviting Chi Zhao went surprisingly smoothly, but when they reached the entrance of the crowded sushi-go-round during peak hours, even the usually strong-willed Song Yi wavered.

There were so many people.

Song Yi was no stranger to the restaurants Chi Zhao frequented, and now she had brought him to such a place.

She prepared an apology, but to her surprise, Chi Zhao appeared completely unfazed and confidently stepped inside.

Watching him effortlessly negotiate with the server about the number of people and then conveniently finding an empty seat, Song Yi tightened her grip on her bag and followed him as usual.

As they entered, a child hurriedly ran over and accidentally bumped into Chi Zhao. Far from showing any annoyance, he bent down to help the child up.

“Should we switch to another place?” Song Yi quickly suggested as she stepped forward.

Chi Zhao sat down on his own, took the utensils and tea, then turned back to ask: “Huh? Why?”

For a fleeting moment, Song Yi felt as though they weren’t colleagues in the workplace but rather an intimate pair of middle school students who could meet up after school to eat street food together.

And so, she sat down too.

“What were you like in middle school, Song Yi?” Perhaps they had thought of the same thing, because at that moment, Chi Zhao suddenly asked this question.

Song Yi tilted her head back, unconsciously letting her guard down: “Nothing special. I just wanted to do well on the college entrance exam.”

She suddenly recalled how, after high school dismissal, she often went alone to eat sushi-go-round near the school. Her living expenses were limited, so she had to calculate the price of every plate.

While listening to her, Chi Zhao remained fully attentive, gazing at the side of Song Yi’s face and occasionally chiming in on her topics.

When she finished speaking, Song Yi finally exhaled deeply: “Sorry, I’ve never told anyone these things before.”

Chi Zhao turned back, picked up his chopsticks, and said: “No need to apologize. Tell me more.”

“Huh?” She turned her head in surprise, seeing Chi Zhao’s clean and refreshing profile.

“You’re willing to tell me these things,” Chi Zhao suddenly smiled, “and that makes me very happy.”

Song Yi stared blankly as he casually took a plate of pudding for himself.

She slowly picked up her cup. Amidst the aroma of tea, she felt a little joy bubbling within her.

Song Yi only ate rice, while Chi Zhao only ate pudding. The two sat by the window, wholly focused on their meals. Song Yi stole a glance at the time, feeling quite satisfied with her plan.

Across the way was a department store, where workers were taking advantage of the lunch break to replace the advertisement posters at the entrance.

Song Yi watched them take down the old billboard, then a group of people carried out a new poster from the back door of the mall.

It was a high-end skincare advertisement featuring a Hong Kong actress whose charm hadn’t faded with time, her face prominently occupying a large space.

Just as Song Yi was drinking water, she choked and started coughing violently upon seeing it.

The workers installed the new billboard right in front of them, hammering away without pause.

Song Yi immediately stood up, grabbed her bag, and said: “I’ll go pay the bill. Let’s go back.”

As she tried to leave, her wrist was suddenly caught. Song Yi turned around, locking eyes with Chi Zhao. He smiled and said: “Let’s sit for a little longer.”

And so, that day, they witnessed the entire process of the high-end skincare advertisement being installed.

During this time, Chi Zhao didn’t say a word, quietly playing mobile games and occasionally glancing outside.

A sense of defeat.

For the first time, Song Yi felt such a deep sense of failure.

In the company elevator, they remained silent. It wasn’t until the doors opened and they stepped out that Chi Zhao finally spoke.

“Thank you for your concern,” he said, “but I actually really like that movie. Didn’t she act wonderfully?”

He flashed her a brilliant smile. Though his smile was still beautiful, Song Yi couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

At the very last moment before the elevator doors closed, she stumbled out.

Standing in the corridor and watching Chi Zhao’s retreating figure, Song Yi knew—she had completely exposed herself.

Chi Zhao had already realized that she knew about it.

Retreating into the office cubicle, Song Yi cautiously asked Xia Fan a question: “What happens if a subordinate finds out about Mr. Chi’s secret without permission?”

Xia Fan pondered for a moment: “Killed…”

Song Yi felt a chill run down her spine.

“…Probably not,” Xia Fan calmly replied. “Either Mr. Chi will fire you, or he’ll keep you by his side forever.”

Kept by his side? This was a modern, 21st-century society. Song Yi believed there was no legal way for Chi Zhao to do that.

She would be fired.

That was the conclusion Song Yi reached.

Though she was reluctant to lose her job, there was nothing she could do.

After several days of anxiety, there was no movement from Chi Zhao’s side. Instead, Shan Jingyi grew even bolder.

He sent over a bouquet of red roses.

Receiving the roses under everyone’s watchful eyes, Song Yi desperately wished for a hole to crawl into.

And fatefully, Chi Zhao happened to come to work holding a cat. Boss and secretary met in the lobby on the first floor. Chi Zhao stared at her for a while by the elevator, then dropped the line: “Come see me after clocking in.”

Here it comes.

She was finally going to be fired.

With a resigned heart, Song Yi walked up to Chi Zhao’s desk. He wore a black pullover, his features delicate yet aloof, silently gazing at her.

After a long while, he pulled a potted plant out of the paper bag under the table—it was broccoli.

“This,” Chi Zhao enunciated each word, “is very delicious.”

Song Yi froze for a moment, then suddenly understood: “Ah! I love eating it!”

“Right!” Chi Zhao put on an expression that said, “I knew it.” “It’s yours.”

He began working, while Song Yi turned around, carrying the potted broccoli. All worries about being fired were swept away as she basked in the joy of receiving the broccoli.

Wow! She wholeheartedly admired it—it was much better than roses!