HGG - 36

Fortunately, the security guards arrived just in time to escort the unscrupulous photographer away; otherwise, today’s unexpected incident might have spiraled out of control.

As the four of them sat facing each other in an upscale tea restaurant, Zhan Heqing couldn’t help but feel a chill run down his spine. This familiar sensation transported him back to a memory from elementary school.

At that time, he and Chi Zhao were classmates. Zhan Heqing was the quintessential top student—glasses perched on his nose, hair meticulously combed, always exuding an air of superiority. Chi Zhao, on the other hand, was the problem child who sat at the back of the classroom, lost in his own world. They existed in two entirely different universes, and by third grade, no one in their class even knew they were acquainted.

It wasn’t until fourth grade during the school’s physical fitness assessment that something changed. Someone had registered Zhan Heqing for the jump-rope event, much to his horror. He tried to feign illness to avoid it, but when his father, Zhan Luo, found out, he sternly lectured him: “A real man doesn’t shy away from challenges.”

On the day of the competition, Zhan Heqing trembled as he approached the designated spot, his palms slick with sweat around the jump rope. Just then, a voice spoke up in front of him: “Let me hold your glasses for you.”

Zhan Heqing looked up to see Chi Zhao’s calm expression. Chi Zhao had always excelled in sports, so he was assisting the teacher with logistics that day.

After much hesitation, Zhan Heqing silently handed over his glasses, feeling humiliated. In the end, he managed fewer than thirty jumps in a minute. Exhausted and overwhelmed by the collapse of his perfect-student image, he avoided meeting Chi Zhao’s gaze, his vision blurred by both his nearsightedness and sweat. But at that moment, Chi Zhao’s voice reached him.

“Zhan Heqing, one hundred twenty-one jumps,” he said.

From that day onward, though Zhan Heqing and Chi Zhao remained distant, Zhan Heqing gradually stopped resenting him.

If you thought this was a heartwarming tale of budding friendship, you’d be sorely mistaken.

Years later, during a spring break in high school, Chi Zhao returned home. As they lay side by side on the grass stargazing, Chi Zhao suddenly remarked, “By the way, I was the one who signed you up for that jump-rope test.”

“What?!” Zhan Heqing bolted upright in shock.

“Well…” Chi Zhao stifled a laugh, “…it seemed fun at the time.”

“Chi Zhao, give me back my initial spark of friendship!” Zhan Heqing, now also a high schooler, shouted indignantly.

Back in the café, after skillfully placing their orders, Chi Zhao began folding the napkins on the table with practiced ease, as if he were a seasoned waiter at a fine dining establishment.

Wu Qiuxiu was the first to speak. She glanced around admiringly at the café’s decor and exclaimed, “Wow! This is my first time visiting such a fancy afternoon tea place!”

After expressing her excitement, Wu Qiuxiu turned to Zhan Heqing with a timid look. “I really like this place, but… um, sorry, I think I might not be able to afford—”

“I’m treating,” Chi Zhao interjected with a smile. “Consider it thanks for saving Little Zhan here.”

Zhan Heqing immediately protested, disgruntled. “I was the one who went to save her!”

“Thank you, Vice President Zhan! You were so cool back then!” Wu Qiuxiu gushed, striking a pose of admiration.

Zhan Heqing’s face instantly flushed red. Song Yi and Chi Zhao exchanged glances, silently interrogating him. He waved his hands frantically. “Anyone would blush if they were suddenly praised like that!”

“Yes! Showering people with compliments is a great way to bond!” Wu Qiuxiu chimed in cheerfully. “Don’t hold back on the praise! Those compliment groups are all the rage these days. Mr. Chi and Secretary Song should try it too!”

Chi Zhao and Song Yi exchanged brief looks.

“Thanks,” Song Yi replied diplomatically. “We’ll consider trying it sometime.”

“Secretary Song!” Wu Qiuxiu suddenly burst out, startling everyone. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at Song Yi. “You’re Secretary Song, right? I’ve wanted to meet you for so long!”

She was naturally outgoing.

“I forgot to introduce myself earlier! I used to work as a temporary secretary for Mr. Chi. Honestly, your job is exhausting because Mr. Chi’s thoughts are impossible to predict…”

Wu Qiuxiu openly criticized her former boss without restraint. Chi Zhao didn’t seem offended, though he leaned forward and teased, “You must think you can talk trash about me now that you don’t work under me anymore?”

Wu Qiuxiu laughed sheepishly. “Ah, don’t say that!”

“You probably don’t realize this with your carefree attitude, but the streaming company you signed with is about to be acquired,” Chi Zhao said nonchalantly, sipping his tea. “Chongming Network will be your new employer.”

“Eh?” Zhan Heqing asked. “Has Chongming Network contacted you already?”

“Yeah, they came. There weren’t any major issues, so I signed right away.”

Chongming Network had always been a minor player in their industry. Song Yi inquired, “Isn’t Chongming Network supposed to be Chongyou’s parent company?”

Zhan Heqing explained, “Technically, yes. Unfortunately, compared to Chongyou, Chongming Network’s other subsidiaries are practically negligible. Though the tyrant may be ruthless, his capabilities are undeniable. Naturally, real power has fallen into the hands of Mr. Chi sitting beside you.”

The powerful Chi Zhao was currently using a fork to cut into his rum cake.

________________________________________

That evening, after work, Song Yi didn’t rush back to her apartment. Instead, she wandered aimlessly until she eventually arrived at a dilapidated, crumbling house.

After her mother was taken away by the hospital, her father, having hit rock bottom, finally resolved to start repaying his debts. Fearing retaliation from his past gambling associates, he moved to a new location.

When Jenny gave her the ticket that day, she mentioned the word “family.” Her kindness weighed heavily on Song Yi’s heart.

When she first escaped from this household, Song Yi vowed never to return. But he was still her biological father.

Moreover, memories of the past weren’t all ugly. Sometimes, her father hadn’t been so monstrous.

She knocked on the door, but there was no response. Song Yi slipped the musical theater ticket under the door, along with a note.

On the day of the performance, Song Yi and her grandmother arrived early. She helped her grandmother settle into their seats before standing by the entrance to wait for a while.

As she stared off into the distance, someone suddenly grabbed her arm. Startled, she looked up to see Jenny, dressed in her costume coat. Her false eyelashes fluttered as she exclaimed, “Miss Song, what are you doing here?”

Before Song Yi could respond, a group of audience members approached. Panicking, Jenny pulled her through a side door.

The side door led directly backstage, where staff finishing their final rehearsals were eating. The dressing room was empty. Jenny lit a cigarette as soon as she sat down.

Through puffs of smoke, she asked, “Is your foot okay?”

This was the second time she’d asked, revealing just how concerned she was.

“It’s fine,” Song Yi replied politely.

Amidst the swirling smoke, Jenny suddenly blurted out without warning, “I’ve given up on Brother Chi Zhao.”

“Huh?” Though it felt unrelated to her, Song Yi instinctively reacted.

“I believe one must know when to cut losses and retreat gracefully. After all, I still have plenty of good cards to play,” Jenny said, growing increasingly animated as she clenched her fist mid-speech. “He may no longer be my husband-to-be, but at least, I want him to remain my brother!”

Song Yi hesitated. “Then… what about Vice President Zhan…?”

“Oh, right, there’s him too.” Jenny flicked off some ash thoughtfully. “He feels more like a younger brother, you know?”

If needing care was the criterion, Song Yi could somewhat understand.

In the end, the ticket holder never showed up. Song Yi returned to her seat alone.

Jenny portrayed Rapunzel from Grimm’s fairy tales, the maiden trapped in a tower who let down her long hair as a ladder for her lover. On stage, she was utterly captivating, and Song Yi couldn’t help but applaud. Yet, the empty seat beside her gnawed at her heart.

That night, Song Yi tossed and turned until dawn, unable to sleep. She made breakfast for her grandmother and left the apartment looking terrible, ignoring even Chi Yu’s greeting from behind.

At the office, Song Yi had just begun tidying up when Chi Zhao, seated behind his computer screen, clicked his mouse and spoke. “You went to watch Jenny’s musical yesterday, didn’t you?”

Song Yi looked up.

“Who did you invite?” he asked.

Song Yi straightened up. “Grandma.”

“No one else?” Chi Zhao raised his eyes, briefly smiling, though his eyes held no warmth.

“No,” Song Yi replied.

“You’re lying,” Chi Zhao murmured softly as he turned back to the screen.

“Where were you seated? I didn’t see you,” Song Yi said bluntly, already guessing that Chi Zhao had been present. She saw no point in beating around the bush.

“Upstairs,” Chi Zhao answered succinctly.

To be honest, Song Yi felt a pang of embarrassment deep inside. Taking a breath, she responded in a flat tone, “Since you already know everything, there’s no need to ask me.”

After saying it, Song Yi didn’t regret her words, but she inevitably reflected on them. She realized she shouldn’t have snapped at Chi Zhao.

Perhaps last night’s turmoil stemmed from sorrow and anger—emotions she wasn’t accustomed to processing. But she knew one thing: the person she truly wanted to vent her frustration to was Song Zuowei.

Standing with her back to Chi Zhao, Song Yi raised her arm to support her forehead while fighting off dizziness from sleep deprivation.

Behind her, the sound of a chair scraping against the floor echoed. Chi Zhao stepped over the scattered toys on the ground and sat on the sofa in front of her. Tilting his head, he gazed at her intently.

He reached out and gently took hold of her fingers hanging limply by her side, offering no interruption.

Chi Zhao didn’t speak, patiently waiting for her. When Song Yi finally lowered her hand, her eyes were devoid of light. Meeting Chi Zhao’s gaze, she muttered, frustrated, “The person I invited didn’t come.”

“Mm,” Chi Zhao grunted softly, giving her ample space to continue.

“I guess I’m a little upset,” she admitted.

“Mm,” Chi Zhao’s gaze was like a puppy’s wet tongue.

Eventually, Song Yi calmed down. “I’m sorry,” she said.

On the card she left, she had written: Dad, it’s Yi. It’s been some time since Mom left, and we’ve both started new lives. Dad, I heard you’ve begun working again. If you have the chance, I think we should sit down and talk.

Dad, there were many unpleasant moments in the past. But I know hurting me wasn’t your intention.

She wanted to talk to him, to understand his feelings, to hear him say, “Hurting you wasn’t my intention.”

Even if it was a lie.

If only he apologized, she would forgive him immediately.

But now, Song Yi’s emotions had settled. Chi Zhao suddenly stood up, and she made up her mind, turning to follow him. Realizing she was unfit to work in this state, she prepared to request leave. However, Chi Zhao picked up his car keys and jingled them in front of her. “Want to go get ice cream?”

For a few seconds, Song Yi stood frozen.

Her eyes involuntarily shifted away. “Chi Zhao,” she said, “you’re incredibly handsome.”

Never hold back on compliments.

Chi Zhao’s gaze lingered on her. After a prolonged silence, his expression remained unchanged—a faint, enigmatic smile.

“Thank you,” he said, turning to leave first. His back, clad in a T-shirt, was straight and lean. As he walked ahead, he added, “In my heart, you’re the most beautiful person in the world.”

Song Yi stared blankly at his retreating figure, her eyes widening in disbelief. It wasn’t until the elevator chimed that she hurried after him.

Inside the elevator, neither of them spoke.

In the parking lot, Song Yi took a step forward but ultimately couldn’t resist pulling out her mirror. Staring at her reflection, which looked no different from usual, she wondered, Beautiful? Really?

Chi Zhao fiddled with his phone, opening a chat app. His expression remained neutral as he typed:

IceDreamButterflySoul : Xia Fan, what do I do?

SunshineBoy : Wat???

IceDreamButterflySoul : I accidentally confessed my true feelings.