HGG - 35

Among the employees who were fired earlier, some went to work for a newly acquired gaming company under Shan Jingyi.

When Xia Fan presented the data and names to Chi Zhao, he was engrossed in playing chess against himself.

He had invited Song Yi to join him, but there weren’t many people in this company who could afford to idle around without guilt. Considering her workload, Song Yi wisely declined.

“Which one should I use?” Chi Zhao drawled, seemingly deep in thought. He eventually picked up the rook but didn’t make a move. Instead, he returned to his computer and began typing.

Chi Zhao made an unusual work request.

He wanted to add an Easter egg character to ACDF , which was about to officially launch.

The character was Kukuchi, the dragon-cat girl. The concept was detailed and didn’t seem hastily written. But orders from the boss usually had their own rationale, so the employees complied.

To reward everyone at lunch, Chi Zhao ordered extra-large pizzas for delivery.

Just as Song Yi stepped out, she was grabbed by Wang Ma and taken to the cafeteria downstairs. The usual colleagues who loved to pull her into gossip were all there. Seeing her approach, they winked and gestured at her.

The receptionist quickly ushered her over and pushed Song Yi onto a seat. “Congratulations on your reinstatement! It’s our treat today—eat as much as you like!”

“Ah?” Song Yi hadn’t expected this. Looking around, everyone wore expressions of relief.

She accepted graciously.

No one asked why she had left or returned. Zhan Heqing had already covered it up with excuses about high-level disputes and workplace competition.

Midway through lunch, someone casually mentioned: “Actually, everyone could see that Zhou Shuhua had issues, right?”

The table fell silent for a moment. A senior employee, who had been with the company longer, fiddled with his chopsticks and replied: “Only the otaku in the office couldn’t see it.”

“Same gender,” someone interjected. “Aren’t women most sensitive to ‘green tea’ types?”

“Do you know she was accepting gifts from Vice President Zhan while flirting with President Chi?” an informed source immediately chimed in. “I heard she messaged President Chi every day during the time he was away. She got blocked the same day.”

Song Yi had finished eating and sat aside listening when she heard a new piece of news.

Jenny had returned.

Memories of Zhan Xiaohong had lingered since the Chongming banquet, where she stood on the stairs watching them leave.

Her expression was full of grievance, pain, and a touch of shame.

Unexpectedly, the next day, Song Yi saw her. At the entrance of Chongming headquarters.

Song Yi was just delivering something. A few days ago, she had received a package from Chongming. Inside was the pair of lemon-yellow high heels. According to Zhan Luo’s message: “Since you’ve worn them, I can’t give them to anyone else, so please keep them.”

Song Yi reluctantly took them home.

Grandma, knowing she felt uneasy, told her to bring strawberries as a token of gratitude. Though Zhan Luo didn’t lack such things, it was still a gesture of appreciation.

Song Yi planned to drop off the gift and leave after registering at the front desk. Unexpectedly, a shadow suddenly fell beside her.

Zhan Xiaohong opened the box herself: “Strawberries, huh.”

She had only returned to the country recently. She sent her luggage back a month in advance, but upon landing and texting her brother, the guy acted as if he’d seen a ghost.

Jenny stopped Song Yi from continuing to write and said: “I’ll take it upstairs for you later.”

“Thank you, Miss Zhan,” Song Yi politely responded.

Jenny shook her head but didn’t leave. Seeing her stay, Song Yi couldn’t leave either. After a long silence, the haughty young lady finally stammered: “Your… foot… is better now, right?”

She was referring to Song Yi’s stumble at the banquet a while back.

“Ah?” Song Yi didn’t expect Jenny to care about her, especially since she hadn’t been seriously injured. “It’s fine. Thank you for worrying.”

Zhan Xiaohong, hands on her hips, continued indignantly: “I’m not trying to reconcile with you. I just feel like what I did was wrong.”

“Next week is my musical performance. Tickets are hard to come by,” Jenny said, opening her handbag and pulling out three tickets. “Here, bring your family along.”

With that, she turned and walked away, carrying the box of strawberries.

Song Yi stared at the three tickets. Jenny probably intended for her to bring her parents, but for Song Yi, the definition of family needed adjustment.

Grandma would surely enjoy it, but who else could go?

When called to purchase tickets for the two young masters at ACGJOY, Song Yi still hadn’t decided on the final person.

She considered Zhan Heqing or Chi Zhao, but then again, for a musical performance by Jenny, wouldn’t these two have no trouble getting tickets if they wanted to attend?

If it were before, Song Yi would have confidently answered negatively. But today, she hesitated.

After all, even these two needed tickets to enter the convention.

After distributing the tickets, Zhan Heqing clarified her doubts: “As upper management of Chongyou, we can indeed gain entry with just a phone call to the organizers. But it’s unnecessary to use privileges all the time, right?”

Chi Zhao, who had worked overnight and just woken up from a nap, was in a bad mood and irritable. He snapped: “So why did you call me here? And why did you send my secretary to buy tickets for you?”

At conventions like ACGJOY, the age range of attendees is vast. Adults like Zhan Heqing, Chi Zhao, and Song Yi were common sights.

When they arrived, the entrance wasn’t crowded. As Zhan Heqing walked in, he said: “I just wanted to check how Chongyou’s booth was doing!”

Chi Zhao absentmindedly pulled out his phone, scrolled for a bit, and then said: “Oh, your favorite streamer is coming to livestream here today…”

“Ah?” Zhan Heqing looked shocked at being exposed. “How do you know?!”

“She was my temporary secretary before. When I saw it on your computer, I noted down her name.” Chi Zhao yawned and flipped his phone over. On the screen, Zhan Heqing saw Wu Qi Qi’s livestream had already started.

But as soon as he saw her face, Chi Zhao promptly closed the app.

Song Yi chimed in, cutting straight to the point: “Even so, there’s no need to drag unrelated people along, right?”

“Sorry,” Zhan Heqing confessed honestly. “I really didn’t want to come alone. Everyone has plans on the weekend, and I don’t have any friends. I figured that only people like me, who also have no friends—”

“I have friends,” Chi Zhao interrupted, distracted by his phone.

“What?!”

Song Yi deadpanned: “Excuse me, I have friends too.”

Zhan Heqing glared at them incredulously: “Impossible!”

“Song Yi is my friend,” Chi Zhao put his phone away and raised his head. As if on cue, Song Yi immediately nodded and stood beside him: “I am Mr. Chi’s friend, you know.”

Zhan Heqing paused: “Let me join you guys…”

“No!” Chi Zhao rejected him firmly.

While Zhan Heqing was absorbed in watching Wu Qi Qi’s livestream, Chi Zhao thought, since they were already here, visiting the gaming booths wouldn’t hurt.

This was Song Yi’s first time at a convention. The colorful stalls, animated screens, and various young people dressed in cosplay felt like stepping into Wonderland. She felt like Alice stumbling into a magical realm.

Chi Zhao, however, seemed completely at ease.

“You’ve been here many times?” Song Yi couldn’t help but ask.

“Not really,” Chi Zhao said. “Once or twice, maybe. All for work.”

As they navigated through the crowd, they were suddenly separated by a group of cosplaying kids passing by. Song Yi found herself momentarily isolated.

Feeling lost, Chi Zhao suddenly turned back, grabbed her hand, and pulled her close.

Startled, Song Yi stumbled forward a couple of steps and ended up pressed against his side.

The sudden contact made her instinctively try to retreat, but Chi Zhao acted as if nothing happened. He extended his hand: “Give me your bag.”

Song Yi handed over her briefcase, and after Chi Zhao took it, he said: “Let’s go.”

Instead of rushing to his company’s booth, he wandered around, exploring other areas. He had tried games produced by domestic companies, occasionally participated in forum discussions, and compared them to his own products.

As they diligently worked, Zhan Heqing, who had fallen behind, finally caught up: “Good news! That woman isn’t wearing a swimsuit! She was joking!”

“Oh, really? We’re actually very interested,” Chi Zhao said coldly without looking up, still testing a competitor’s new mobile game.

“It’s about time to leave, right?” Song Yi glanced at the clock.

As the three headed back, Chi Zhao still checked in: “Are you sure you don’t want to say hi to that Wu So-and-So? Maybe get her number?”

Zhan Heqing smirked: “No need. I’m old enough—I’m not some lovesick teenager.”

Just as they were about to leave, a scream rang out.

Looking toward the source, a familiar-looking girl was desperately holding down her skirt.

It was Wu Qi Qi. The scream came from her.

Before she could speak, a man holding a camera nearby questioned her: “You dress like this to let us take pictures, don’t you?”

“But—but you can’t lift my skirt!” Wu Qi Qi blushed furiously.

The man justified himself: “I saw you just ended your livestream. You’re a professional streamer, right? I have a lot of followers. If these photos go viral, you’ll make money. I’m helping you promote yourself!”

The cause and effect became clear from their exchange. People around stopped, but no one intervened, startled by the sudden incident.

Chi Zhao signaled to Song Yi, and she immediately took out her phone.

Meanwhile, Zhan Heqing’s expression turned grave. He suddenly shoved something into Chi Zhao’s arms: “Hold this for me.”

“What are you going to do?” Chi Zhao was caught off guard.

“Don’t talk!” Zhan Heqing said sternly. “I know I’m terrible at sports, but I must go help her.”

“Not exactly,” Chi Zhao tried to explain. “I’ve already asked Song Yi to notify security.”

It was too late. Zhan Heqing threw his coat at Song Yi and ran toward Wu Qi Qi without hesitation.

Since childhood, he had been labeled a “bookworm,” inept at sports, let alone fighting.

But Zhan Heqing still charged toward her resolutely.

Rolling up his sleeves, he strode to the man, snatched his camera in front of everyone, and smashed it to the ground without hesitation.

The expensive lens shattered loudly. Zhan Heqing calmly looked up and stared into the man’s eyes: “I’ll compensate you, but for now—get lost.”

At that moment, both Chi Zhao and Song Yi froze.

Chi Zhao chuckled: “True love, huh.”

Song Yi eyed him skeptically: “Are you really okay with this?”

Seeing his camera destroyed, the man flew into a rage. He shoved Zhan Heqing’s shoulder: “Who do you think you are!”

But he didn’t expect Zhan Heqing to collapse with an “Ah!” the moment he pushed him.

Physically, Zhan Heqing had never been strong. In elementary school, Chi Zhao had to report an extra hundred skips to pass his jump rope test. Even as adults, during morning runs, Zhan Heqing often lagged behind, panting heavily.

“What nonsense! You’re so weak yet dare to act tough! Are you this streamer’s crazy fan?!” the man cursed, walking toward Zhan Heqing.

Realizing the situation was escalating, Chi Zhao handed his belongings to Song Yi but didn’t intervene.

A hand landed on the man’s shoulder.

Zhan Heqing lay sprawled awkwardly, watching as the man turned and was instantly kicked in the head, falling to the ground.

Wu Qi Qi, the cute streamer who had won the national collegiate taekwondo championship four years in a row, fiercely shouted: “Bastard! Don’t bully my fans!”