HGG - 39

The round table made seating arrangements less awkward. Song Yi kept her gaze lowered, while across from her, Zhan Heqing quietly sipped his tea. To Song Yi’s left, Chi Zhao sat groggily, still in his post-nap silence.

Directly facing him, Chi Shuren flipped through the menu with arms crossed.

Even in his fifties, Chi Shuren maintained a handsome appearance and an air of authority. He remained perfectly composed, showing no sign of disapproval when Chi Zhao appeared in his casual T-shirt and jeans.

True to their professionalism, the waiter approached as soon as the menu was closed. “What would you like to order?”

The man exuding regal charisma interlaced his fingers and spoke gravely: “A caramelized puff pastry tower with strawberry sauce.”

Song Yi fell silent. She glanced back at Zhan Heqing, who gave her a look that said, “Get used to it.” He then ordered calmly, “One latte.”

Song Yi nodded faintly. “I’ll have a latte too, thank you.”

Chi Zhao, who hadn’t even glanced at the menu, yawned and added, “I’ll take the sugared apple crepe.”

This father-son duo’s obsession with sweets was truly…

At that moment, Chi Shuren solemnly declared, “Heqing, and this Miss Song.”

Believing something important was about to be said, both Zhan Heqing and Song Yi focused intently on him.

“The macarons here are quite good,” Chi Shuren stated seriously.

Dead silence followed.

Whenever he spoke, everyone fell quiet.

As Zhan Heqing and Song Yi scrambled for a response, Chi Zhao suddenly told the waiter, “No macarons.”

They were silent once again.

After placing their orders, Chi Zhao finally asked, “Why are you here?”

Chi Shuren took a sip of warm water and replied, “Can’t I visit my own son without a reason?”

“The last time you came to see me,” Chi Zhao drawled lazily, “was when I broke your study window playing football in the yard during elementary school.”

“I contacted you when you fractured your leg ice skating in Vancouver,” Chi Shuren responded coldly.

“My school visit was handled by your secretary,” Chi Zhao countered. “By ‘contact,’ do you mean that email asking who Canada’s Minister of Public Safety was?”

“I wanted to confirm you hadn’t injured your brain,” Chi Shuren shot back mercilessly.

For some inexplicable reason, Zhan Heqing and Song Yi felt they shouldn’t be there.

Caught between witnessing this father-son argument, Zhan Heqing suddenly remembered something—he had dinner plans with Wu Qiuxiu. Though there was still time, Chi Shuren’s presence required his attention.

Leaving Song Yi alone between these two alien-like individuals seemed cruel.

Thus, Zhan Heqing braced himself and preemptively asked, “Uncle Chi, will you join us for dinner tonight? I’ll reserve your favorite Nyonya cuisine.”

“No need,” Chi Shuren finally stopped arguing with Chi Zhao. Wiping his mouth elegantly, he said, “I have a flight to New York tonight. This visit is to give something to Chi Zhao.”

“More trouble, I assume,” Chi Zhao smirked, resting his cheek on his hand.

Chi Shuren didn’t engage further. Instead, he said, “You’ve seen Cor’s match, right?”

Cor was one of the teams from the recent esports tournament.

So that explained why the organizers had stubbornly pushed tickets onto Chi Zhao. Song Yi realized someone had commissioned this.

“Cor is an esports club I founded years ago,” Chi Shuren explained. “Your company recently acquired a live-streaming platform. I want Cor to stream there.”

The younger generation at the table collectively tensed.

Song Yi observed Chi Zhao’s reaction. He remained calm.

Though the acquisition of the streaming company had been Chongming Network’s initiative, Chi Zhao had prepared to take it over, which was why Zhan Heqing had gone to inspect it.

He intended to build an ACG-focused interactive platform. Starting late, the best way to gain traction was to invite popular streamers.

Cor was involved in multiple popular games, and their teams had won prestigious domestic and international awards. Their members had significant fan bases.

“It’s not free, is it?” Chi Zhao cut to the chase.

“Of course not,” Chi Shuren admitted frankly to his biological son. “Has the streaming company been renamed yet? What’s it called? Chongming Live?”

Chi Zhao smiled indifferently. “Whatever.”

“I’m not asking for much. My secretary will send over the contract.” Chi Shuren paused, then added, “And one more favor.”

“…” Chi Zhao muttered with a smile, “You old sugar fiend…”

“When you’re my age, you’ll be the same,” Chi Shuren shrugged. “About the power outage during that tournament… The organizers plan to use black tech to read data and resume the match from the blackout point. But…”

“But since Cor was at a disadvantage, you don’t want to continue the match and instead apply for a rematch, right?” Chi Zhao interrupted casually.

“You watched carefully, didn’t you?” Chi Shuren dropped sugar cubes into his tea one after another. “If I handle it directly, it’d attract too much attention. You understand?”

“I’ll pressure the organizers and the opposing team on your behalf,” Chi Zhao said. “But keep your promise.”

Chi Shuren, rarely seen smiling, raised his teacup. After taking a sip, he suddenly remembered something. “Miss Gao Jie has been looking for you.”

At the mention of this name, Zhan Heqing reacted first.

Without saying a word, he glanced at Chi Zhao. In that look, Song Yi detected a signal of caution.

However, Chi Zhao lifted his head, his expression serene as he asked, “Who’s that?”

In the suffocating heat, Wu Qiuxiu crouched inside a locker in the company’s changing room.

Hugging her knees, she stared at the stainless steel door’s inner texture, wondering where she’d gone wrong.

Wu Qiuxiu had always been a clumsy child.

Everyone said so. Even in elementary school, she constantly tripped and fell, bloodied but still laughing foolishly. That was when she heard the story of “the slow bird that flies early.”

She poured all her effort into studying, managing to climb to the top ranks of her grade. Her teacher praised her in front of the class, but her classmates’ opinions weren’t limited to her results.

Everyone knew how hard she worked.

What others could grasp in an hour, Wu Qiuxiu needed an entire night to comprehend. She was clumsy, so she had to work harder than anyone else to achieve the same results.

That was how she stumbled her way into a prestigious university.

Before university, grades represented many things, but afterward, they didn’t.

The world became more complex.

Social interactions, club activities—Wu Qiuxiu encountered many things that effort alone couldn’t solve.

She lacked social awareness, was overly naive, and gradually became more isolated. To avoid being disliked, she learned to replace opinions with silly smiles.

Back then, besides taekwondo, her greatest obsession was watching livestreams.

Beautiful men and women spoke effortlessly in front of cameras, freely conversing, expressing themselves, and interacting with unseen audiences.

How amazing.

If only I could become like them.

After graduation, she accidentally became a streamer. Wu Qiuxiu thought she’d made progress. Meeting people who lived independently despite being outcasts inspired her to be braver.

But in the end, things turned out like this.

When other female streamers entered the changing room, Wu Qiuxiu instinctively hid in the locker.

She knew they didn’t like her.

“That newbie hooked up with the new boss already?” a beauty streamer sneered. “Talk about moving fast.”

“They call her dumb, but isn’t she clever now?”

“She chatted about eels in her stream. How dumb can she be? Who knows how many rich bosses she’s slept with.” At this, several streamers laughed suggestively. “Today’s new boss probably likes wild nights too.”

“Have you heard? Chongming’s planning to crack down on streaming styles and strictly monitor private group rewards.”

“So nosy. Do they think they’re internet police?”

Wu Qiuxiu didn’t know why she was hiding. Suddenly, she remembered a notebook she’d found while working as a temp secretary at Chongyou. It belonged to the original secretary, Miss Song Yi.

In that meticulously organized notebook, Song Yi efficiently summarized solutions to various problems.

Song Yi was also a graduate of a prestigious university. Clearly, she wasn’t like Wu Qiuxiu—a slow bird. Song Yi was the epitome of “smarter and harder working than you.”

Wu Qiuxiu vividly remembered the first page of that notebook: “Speak less, do more.”

Why was Song Yi so strong?

Her phone vibrated. Wu Qiuxiu saw a message from Zhan Heqing.

He wrote, “Where are you? Sorry, I got held up with work.”

Vice President Zhan was so gentle.

When he rushed to save her at the comic expo, she was genuinely happy.

It might have been the happiest moment of her life.

Looking at the message, Wu Qiuxiu, who had been numb until now, suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

She replied, “It’s okay! You go ahead and take care of work! I’ll be fine on my own! Bye!” She added a cute emoji at the end.

She just needed to be weak for a little longer.

Wu Qiuxiu told herself she was recuperating. Like in video games, hiding for a bit would let her recover and return stronger.

But memories of recent setbacks flooded her mind.

Being harassed and insulted during streams, having her skirt lifted and being secretly photographed at expos, being ostracized and misunderstood among streamers—her eyes grew wet, and her head sank lower.

A rapid knocking sound interrupted her thoughts.

The female streamers in the changing room raised their voices: “Who is it?! Boss? No one’s undressed, come in!”

The door was pushed open forcefully, followed by murmurs: “Who are you…?”

“Where’s Miss Wu? The assistant said she’s here.” Through the locker door, Wu Qiuxiu heard that voice.

She looked up in shock.

“Tsk!” With generally low education levels, the streamers were resentful under their new management and impending style changes. A popular streamer muttered sarcastically, “Acting like they don’t know they’re related.”

Zhan Heqing abruptly turned around. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“That woman uses eel talk for tips. Does she even have shame—”

“If you say one more word,” Zhan Heqing interrupted sharply. His voice wasn’t loud, but each word carried weight. “I’ll make sure you disappear from every streaming platform.”

Slowly turning back, he locked eyes with the speaker. “I mean it.”

“You—” The female streamer flushed red, about to lash out, when the locker suddenly rattled.

Then, Wu Qiuxiu emerged, fists clenched, her face beet red.

“Hey!” Wu Qiuxiu suddenly raised her voice, glaring at the arguing crowd. “You can hate me! But!”

Without warning, she kicked a nearby table with full force, sending it crashing to the ground.

This was the strength of a four-time national collegiate taekwondo champion.

“Don’t slander Vice President Zhan! And don’t misunderstand him! He… he’s really kind and considerate of others.” Taking a deep breath, Wu Qiuxiu steeled herself and blurted out, “And… and I like him!”

The room fell silent.

Turning to Zhan Heqing, Wu Qiuxiu’s eyes sparkled like stars.

“Zhan Heqing!” she stammered. “You… though you’re bad at sports, walk pigeon-toed, and have terrible fashion sense. And… you seem dumber than me, giving yourself a silly nickname like ‘Boss of Huibinlou’ and thinking I wouldn’t recognize it…

“But I really, really like you.” Wu Qiuxiu declared loudly, meeting his gaze. “I like you the most in the whole wide world!”