HGG - 18

“Youth Digest” sent over a message. Click “YES” to view.

YES.

Youth Digest said: Song Yi, help me out. Which of these necklaces do you think looks better? It’s for a girl, urgent, waiting online.

Amidst the mountain of work, when Song Yi received this message from Zhan Heqing, she wanted nothing more than to follow her heart and reply: “Go away, I’m busy.”

But considering her monthly salary, she suppressed her anger and quickly skimmed through the options.

Song Yi said: The second one.

Youth Digest said: Ah! So that’s how it is! I actually like the first one better! Now help me decide which of these two dresses looks better!

Then came another bombardment of pictures.

Men in love were truly terrifying. Song Yi exited the chat and simply pretended not to see it.

When she went out to get Chi Zhao’s signature on some documents, she happened to glance at his computer screen, where notifications from “Youth Digest” kept popping up.

Without batting an eye, Chi Zhao decisively blocked Zhan Heqing’s account with swift precision.

The world immediately became peaceful.

At the same time, he extended an invitation to Song Yi as repayment for the sushi-go-round meal.

To be honest, Song Yi thought it unnecessary. First, she hadn’t spent much money, and second, if Chi Zhao took her somewhere too fancy, it might feel awkward.

However, she was clearly overthinking it.

After getting out of the car, they walked for a while, passing by colorful stationery shops, until they stood beneath the gilded words “Experimental Elementary School.” Song Yi wore a slightly hesitant expression.

“Sorry, I wanted to take you to my favorite place from back in school,” Chi Zhao said with a hint of sincerity. “But I went to Canada for middle school and spent two years in Japan for high school. The only six years I spent entirely in the country were during elementary school…”

Song Yi said: “I was just thinking, I should’ve worn something less formal.”

She was dressed in a dark women’s suit, whereas Chi Zhao was casually dressed, fitting perfectly into the relaxed environment around them.

Chi Zhao quickened his pace, weaving through narrow streets until they entered a milk shop.

After sitting down, he greeted the shopkeeper, fetched a box of yogurt for Song Yi, and opened a bottle of cola for himself. Then he stared intently at her.

As Song Yi unwrapped her straw, elementary school students came in and out of the shop, whispering among themselves when they spotted Chi Zhao.

Noticing her curiosity, Chi Zhao explained: “I’ve donated some money to the school and attended a few lectures.”

“Eh?” Song Yi grew even more curious. “What kind of lectures?”

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t picture Chi Zhao lecturing about life’s big truths. When talking to his subordinates, he only liked to point out problems.

“Xia Fan prepares the scripts for me,” Chi Zhao said. “But as I read through them, I start thinking, ‘What nonsense is this?’ and ‘How could elementary students possibly understand this?’ Then I just give up and read the last paragraph.”

Unable to suppress her laughter, Song Yi lowered her head, covering her face with her hand. After finally calming herself, she stood up and said: “Sorry, I lost my composure.”

Chi Zhao rested his cheek on his hand, smiling serenely like a clear blue sky.

In the bright interior, he turned to look at the milk advertisement posters on the wall and casually said: “Song Yi doesn’t smile much in daily life.”

Song Yi was well aware of this fact. She replied: “If it’s necessary for work, I can smile. If Mr. Chi wishes, I’ll pay more attention to it in the future…”

Before she finished speaking, Chi Zhao burst into laughter.

“No need,” he said. “Don’t change. This is fine.”

She paused briefly, then apologized for the previous incident: “Regarding your mother, I happened to learn about it from Mr. Shan. I’m very sorry for intruding into your affairs without permission.”

“That birdbrain…” Chi Zhao stirred the ice cubes in his glass with his straw. “Just don’t say anything about it. If marketing accounts write nonsense, we’ll both be in trouble. You know what I mean?”

“We” referred to Chongming and Chi Zhao’s birth mother.

Song Yi gave an affirmative response. After a moment of silence, she couldn’t help but ask: “May I ask—do you still keep in touch with her?”

Upon hearing this, Chi Zhao chuckled twice. He answered brightly: “Are you assuming our relationship is bad?”

Song Yi shook her head, though she felt a bit guilty for no apparent reason.

“It’s not that complicated. My mom isn’t very mature; she can’t take care of anyone, nor can she be a parent. My current mom is really nice and makes great Japanese dishes.” He spoke as if describing someone else, his tone quite relaxed.

Carefully, Song Yi asked: “When was the last time you two met?”

“The last time?” Chi Zhao thought for a moment. “It was last year, I think. There was a charity gala where she was invited too. We even sat at the same table. When someone poured red wine for me, she got really upset and said, ‘You’re not an adult yet, how can you drink?’ It made me laugh so hard. She always thinks I’m still in high school.”

Song Yi looked at Chi Zhao, remaining silent for a long time. Noticing her moist gaze, he raised his head and asked: “What’s wrong?”

Song Yi shook her head again. She carefully pieced together the words in her heart, saying them earnestly, albeit somewhat disjointedly: “Mr. Chi, you will definitely be very happy in the future.”

He visibly froze: “What?”

Song Yi said: “Your cola—if you don’t drink it soon, the ice will melt.”

In an instant, he smiled, nodding as he picked up his straw.

As the yogurt neared its end, that was all he treated her to. Later, he dropped her off, and the cafeteria specially prepared a bowl of udon noodles for her.

After seeing Chi Zhao off, Song Yi finally sat down to eat. The udon tasted great, prompting her to mutter to herself: “I’ve never seen this dish before.”

The chef was also on break at this time and struck up a conversation with her: “This is a special dish that only Mr. Chi can order. It’s not usually available.”

Meanwhile, Chi Zhao, who hadn’t eaten lunch, went upstairs. Xia Fan had been notified in advance to meet him.

As he handed over the chocolate milk, Xia Fan thoughtfully asked: “Mr. Shan seems to have ordered roses again today. Should I arrange for the flower shop to intercept them?”

Chi Zhao eyed him suspiciously: “Why would we do something like that?”

True to his reputation as the perfect assistant, Xia Fan smoothly justified it: “If his advances affect Miss Song, it could cause losses for the company.”

Chi Zhao seriously considered the suggestion for a moment.

“For now, let’s wait,” he said, his expression turning cold as he turned away. “He’s been making too many small moves lately.”

Humming a tune, he didn’t forget to remind before entering: “By the way, tell Song Yi not to keep those flowers in the office—they’re annoying to look at.”

Perhaps it was because spring was approaching, but Song Yi suddenly sneezed.

She had never suffered from hay fever before, but as she left Chongyou’s main gate after work, she hesitated about whether to go to the hospital. Just then, she was startled.

A silver-gray Bentley was parked at the entrance, and the man leaning against the car held a large bouquet of bright red roses. Upon seeing her, Shan Jingyi immediately approached.

“Miss Song, long time no see,” he said with a smile.

They had met just recently.

Song Yi politely inclined her body and responded formally: “Mr. Shan, if you need to see Mr. Chi, you can simply call. We’ll make an appointment for you.”

Shan Jingyi’s smile deepened as he candidly stated: “Surely you don’t think this bouquet of roses is for Chi Zhao, do you?”

This was the entrance of Chongming Games, where familiar faces passed by frequently.

Of course, she knew they weren’t for Chi Zhao, but she still preemptively deflected: “You’re quite humorous. If there’s nothing else, I’ll head home now.”

Shan Jingyi’s situation was something Song Yi had come to understand a bit about.

Much like many conglomerates, the selection of heirs in the Shan family followed the principle of survival of the fittest. However, even among these elite offspring, there were still inevitable distinctions based on age and seniority.

Shan Jingyi was the second son of the Shan family. His older brother was exceptionally talented and significantly older than him. By the time Shan Jingyi was in high school, his older brother had already secured a prominent position within the family.

With no real chance of ascending to the top, Shan Jingyi had always played the role of the obedient younger son—well-behaved, dutiful, and consistently trouble-free.

In a way, Chi Zhao shared similarities with him.

Both came from affluent and prestigious families, both held inferior positions in the line of succession, and both had been assigned relatively idle roles. Their ages were also close. However, Chi Zhao and Shan Jingyi were fundamentally different.

Chi Chong had passed away at a young age, and Chi Yu was utterly incompetent. Most importantly, Chi Zhao had always been willful and unapologetically so.

Yet, somehow, Chi Zhao had risen to his current position.

Song Yi wasn’t a cold-hearted person, but under these circumstances, she could still think clearly.

The likelihood of Shan Jingyi genuinely falling in love with her was infinitesimally small.

Perhaps it was a fleeting whim—after all, the second young master of the Shan family was no stranger to scandals. Or perhaps he despised Chi Zhao so much that he sought fulfillment by targeting those close to him. Or maybe it was a mix of both.

Regardless, Song Yi had no interest in him whatsoever.

She took the subway to her stop and exited, only to find that it was raining.

It was the evening rush hour, taxis were impossible to hail, and the rain was torrential.

At this moment, Song Yi spotted Shan Jingyi strategically parked by the roadside.

Through the rain-speckled car window, she could see him sitting in the driver’s seat, wearing a pitying smile as if everything was unfolding exactly as he had anticipated.

Still hesitating, Song Yi saw him open the car door. With a long sigh, she reluctantly got in.

Shan Jingyi asked: “Want to grab something to eat? How about that restaurant we went to last time? I’ve booked a table on the top floor today.”

Song Yi calmly replied: “No need. Thank you for your hospitality last time.”

“Did you enjoy yourself last time?” he fired off questions like a machine gun. “That place has great ambiance, right? Has Chi Zhao ever taken you out to eat alone?”

Not exactly never. But if dining alone counted, it was probably just the sushi-go-round from last time.

“If drinking beverages counts…”

“What did he get you to drink?” Shan Jingyi pressed.

Song Yi answered brightly: “Yogurt from the shop next to Experimental Elementary School.”

The atmosphere in the car stiffened momentarily.

Suddenly, Shan Jingyi burst into laughter. He raised his arm, pressing it against his forehead to force himself to stop laughing.

“That guy really doesn’t understand people’s hearts,” he said, half-amused, half-exasperated, his peach-blossom eyes turning toward Song Yi. “I heard he even gave you broccoli. Who on earth could get along with him? Clearly, I’m the better choice, right?”

When they stopped the car, Shan Jingyi glanced at Song Yi.

From the very beginning, this woman had maintained an unwavering expression—no joy, no annoyance, just a distant yet polite smile at most.

Shan Jingyi couldn’t help but recall Chi Zhao’s enigmatic smile.

His secretary was icy.

It was hard to imagine what could make her smile sincerely.

After a long while, Song Yi finally spoke.

“I don’t think Mr. Chi misunderstands people’s hearts,” she said.

Song Yi got out of the car, and Shan Jingyi hurriedly opened the door to chase after her.

At the entrance of her apartment building, she could see the bright neon lights of the tallest skyscraper in the city glowing in the distance.

“Miss Song!” he called out loudly.

When Song Yi turned around, this was the scene before her.

Shan Jingyi stood holding ninety-nine red roses, while the LED screen on the first tower behind him displayed a message:

“Song Yi, I like you.”

Shan Jingyi was confident. Such an expensive and meticulously planned confession had never failed to win over any woman he had pursued.

True to form, Song Yi was initially completely stunned. She frowned silently, and after a silence lasting one or two minutes, her icy demeanor began to soften.

As the weather warmed, a faint glimmer appeared in her glacier-like eyes, and Song Yi slowly, genuinely smiled.

Her smile was bright and rare, radiating authenticity.

Shan Jingyi was overjoyed, his sense of accomplishment swelling. He stepped forward to embrace her, only to realize she was still staring intently at the skyscraper behind him.

Shan Jingyi turned around.

Upon seeing the confession he had prepared, his jaw dropped. He immediately pulled out his phone to contact the building manager.

“Hey? What do you mean by this?! I paid you… So he covered the breach fee too? You’re just taking the money and running, huh? Aren’t you afraid of offending me… Hello? Hello?!” Shan Jingyi demanded angrily into the phone.

Song Yi watched the text on the LED screen, unable to suppress the laughter bubbling up beneath the icy surface.

Less than three minutes after Shan Jingyi’s confession had been broadcast, a call was made directly to the First Tower.

The original message was promptly removed, replaced by another text visible across the entire city.

Unsigned, but unmistakably identifiable.

“Like hell I like you, birdbrain.”