HGG - 48

Zhan Heqing and Wu Qiuxiu were now very happy.

They would first go to a small wonton shop downstairs from Wu Qiuxiu’s apartment, then Zhan Heqing would drive her to the live streaming studio. Afterward, he’d head to work.

During lunch breaks, they would video call each other, sharing complaints about work and life. When there was nothing to say, they’d simply smile in silence.

In the evening, Zhan Heqing would pick Wu Qiuxiu up, and they’d go eat Anhui cuisine together.

Wu Qiuxiu had an athlete’s physique and occasionally felt unsatisfied with her meal. So, they’d stop by a convenience store, sitting side by side eating popsicles and bread.

Wu Qiuxiu sighed contentedly: “I’m so happy. Dating is truly such a joy.”

“Yes,” Zhan Heqing honestly admitted that he enjoyed spending time with Wu Qiuxiu.

“In this world, there probably isn’t anyone who can resist falling in love,” Wu Qiuxiu said while staring at the wrapper of her popsicle.

For a moment, Zhan Heqing remained silent, just smiling quietly. Suddenly, he casually mentioned: “That’s not necessarily true. I have a friend—”

Wu Qiuxiu was sharp, having seen plenty of online confessions starting with “I have a friend.” “Is this friend you, Vice President Zhan?”

“No, no,” Zhan Heqing waved his hands repeatedly. “It really is a friend.”

Wu Qiuxiu rested her chin on the cap of her drink bottle, listening attentively.

“I have a friend whose parents never married. Both his parents held unusual positions in society. Getting into a relationship with his father required complex procedures, and his mother wasn’t prepared for marriage or children. My friend’s existence was purely accidental.

“Not long after he was born, his father remarried his ex-wife. His mother left him with his maternal grandmother and focused on preparing for her career comeback.

“There’s no doubt that his parents loved each other. But neither believed in love; marriage was merely a tool. Rather than spending their lives with each other and being happy until old age, both chose their careers and the freedom of not bearing any responsibilities.”

As Zhan Heqing spoke, he turned his head. Outside the convenience store, the streetlamp cast a glow.

Wu Qiuxiu nodded earnestly and said: “Your friend must be so pitiful…”

Zhan Heqing remained silent.

During Chi Zhao’s spring break when he returned home from high school, Zhan Heqing visited him one night. Chi Zhao went to take a shower, while Zhan Heqing passed the time on Chi Zhao’s computer.

By chance, he clicked on Chi Zhao’s YouTube history.

Among various videos reflecting Chi Zhao’s taste, there was a clip from an old Hong Kong talk show featuring an actress.

Zhan Heqing clicked on the video.

The TV program was dated, with lighting, makeup, and interior design that felt outdated.

The actress from over a decade ago was full of youthful charm. After playfully scolding the male host, she coyly said: “During my break, I’ve had both joys and worries, like playing a game I love. Though it took longer than expected, it’s fortunate I resolved it in time.”

When asked about love, she blinked her almond-shaped eyes, thinking from the most camera-friendly angle.

“Falling in love is troublesome. I want to date forever, be happy forever, and stay young forever.” She smiled mischievously as she added, “Though I know it’s impossible!”

Zhan Heqing stared blankly as he finished watching the video.

Seventeen years had passed, yet Chi Zhao still watched this footage of his mother, who had abandoned him to focus on fitness, beauty routines, and acting preparation for her comeback, during her first public appearance.

He kept watching.

At the end of the video, the flawless goddess of the masses smiled and said: “I think human relationships should be kept at arm’s length. Getting too close easily leads to heartbreak, especially in love.”

Then, a sound came from behind Zhan Heqing. Turning around, he saw Chi Zhao wiping his hair as he walked in.

For a moment, Zhan Heqing forgot to hide his surprise and simply watched Chi Zhao sit on the bed drying his hair. Chi Zhao pointed at the chilled milk on the desk and asked: “Want some?”

Zhan Heqing shook his head.

Suddenly, Chi Zhao laughed—a bright, piercing laugh, like light refracting off floating ice on the sea.

He said: “You saw it?”

Zhan Heqing frowned: “Chi Zhao, you…”

At that moment, the door opened again. A middle-aged woman entered personally carrying a tray with spinach salmon cumin fried rice, an oddly mismatched combination.

Upon seeing her, Chi Zhao lazily greeted: “It’s only Xiao Zhan, so you don’t need to force yourself to make a late-night snack.”

She ignored Chi Zhao. The next video started playing automatically on the computer, but somehow, she seemed to see through everything. The woman spoke: “Heqing.”

Zhan Heqing felt inexplicably nervous.

“Send my regards to your father,” she said breezily. “I heard you’re attending a private high school. Kids your age should be dating too, right? Does Zhan Luo keep an eye on you? Your family seems quite liberal, but if it were Chi Zhao, we’d hope he chooses a suitable girl. After all, a marriage partner is an important component.”

Even though she asked several questions, the woman clearly didn’t intend to listen to his answers.

After speaking, she set down the tray and glanced coldly at Chi Zhao before leaving: “Don’t let me see you dressed like that downstairs tomorrow morning.”

The door closed. Chi Zhao checked his white T-shirt and jeans, then nonchalantly sat down to stir the oddly paired fried rice. Zhan Heqing, however, was frozen in place.

This memory was something he hadn’t told Wu Qiuxiu.

If he did, Wu Qiuxiu would surely ask, “Who is this woman?”

And Zhan Heqing didn’t want to answer.

________________________________________

In the president’s office—

Chi Zhao leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for three minutes before suddenly blurting out two words: “My mom.”

“What?” Xia Fan looked over.

“It’s the answer to her earlier question,” Chi Zhao explained. “‘Who helped you grow the most?’”

“That was the question from ages ago!” Xia Fan placed his hands on his hips, assuming a lecturing stance. “And seriously, did you really need this long to think about it?”

Chi Zhao solemnly replied: “Yes. I was torn between my mom, my high school classmate Sanda, and Nicolaus Copernicus.”

“You’re putting these three people on the same level to choose between…?”

________________________________________

An hour earlier, after hearing the response “Do we know each other?” Gao Jie’s expression didn’t change.

She didn’t get angry or flustered. With an impeccable smile, she replied: “Yes, we’ve known each other for a long time.”

Chi Zhao released her hand first. He shoved his hands into his pockets, tilting his head lazily as he examined the gift box’s packaging. Then, looking up with a radiant smile, he said warmly: “I already bought this, but thank you anyway.”

“That’s wonderful. No need to thank me—it’s what I should do,” Gao Jie smoothly slid the gift back into her bag.

Observing from the sidelines, Song Yi couldn’t help but marvel.

She was incredible.

Gao Jie was an impenetrable fortress.

During a work break, Xia Fan privately commented: “This editor-in-chief is really capable.”

“Not just Chi Zhao, we received gifts too.”

“Yes,” Song Yi nodded in agreement. “Her research is thorough, her manners are impeccable, and her reactions are quick. No wonder she became an executive editor at such a young age.”

Gao Jie’s mind was sharp. Earlier, passing by the official Chongyou merchandise store downstairs, she suggested they go check it out.

Chi Zhao agreed.

Today, he hadn’t used the private elevator, so they encountered many employees along the way. Several noticed Gao Jie.

Even wearing only a visitor badge, her confident and dignified smile exuded an elegant and approachable aura.

Chongyou’s merchandise store primarily sold products related to its games, mainly stationery.

Spotting a clay figurine of a monster from ACDF , Gao Jie enthusiastically approached: “This character is a tribute to King Kong from Universal Pictures’ 2005 release, right?”

Chi Zhao stood nearby with his arms crossed, smiling and nodding.

Gao Jie moved to a display of notebooks and accessories, saying: “The full-color copperplate printing on the cover paired with washi tape creates such a sensual contrast.”

It was as if a valve had been opened. Chi Zhao raised an eyebrow, hesitated briefly, then stepped forward, taking a sample roll of tape to demonstrate on a notebook cover: “Actually, the design intended for it to be used like this—”

“Ah!” Gao Jie’s eyes sparkled. “So that’s how it works! It makes sense now…”

Seeing them immersed in their shared interests, Xia Fan sighed with a bitter smile: “Looks like they’ve found a kindred spirit.” He turned to seek some sympathy from Song Yi, only to find her calmly gazing at the pair deep in animated conversation.

Xia Fan keenly sensed something and openly asked: “What’s wrong?”

The woman beside him shook her head. A faint light began to shine in Song Yi’s eyes, and unexpectedly, she smiled.

“I feel a bit in awe of Miss Gao,” Song Yi said.

Receiving an unexpected reply, Xia Fan’s gaze dropped: “Oh?”

“While you were handling the written interview upstairs, I skimmed through a few interviews she participated in,” Song Yi explained. “No matter the industry of the interviewee, she understands them thoroughly. Truly impressive.”

Xia Fan nodded in sudden realization: “Come to think of it, you also have a habit of meticulously researching people…”

But Song Yi didn’t hear this remark because Chi Zhao suddenly called her over.

“This,” Chi Zhao held out a plush Totoro hat with cat ears, “when they showed it to me, I thought it would suit you.”

Song Yi glanced at the hat with attached cat ears, her gaze unfocusing for two seconds before she said: “I’ll pass.”

Chi Zhao didn’t press further. As Gao Jie put the notebook back, he suddenly leaned closer, lowering his voice: “What were you and Xia Fan talking about? Why did you leave me alone here?”

Song Yi looked up, offering a slightly apologetic smile: “You seemed to be having such a pleasant conversation with Miss Gao…”

“Don’t stray too far from me,” Chi Zhao complained, staring at her. “No more than 1.5 meters.”

“That’s too close…” Song Yi objectively evaluated.

“I don’t want to be alone with her.” As he said this, Chi Zhao sounded like a grade-schooler complaining to the teacher about not wanting to sit next to someone.

Gao Jie turned around. Song Yi stepped back a few paces, only to realize her hair had gotten caught on a shelf.

Song Yi winced slightly as Chi Zhao noticed. He turned and walked over, his cold expression making her instinctively want to escape, but the pain in her scalp immediately brought her back to reality.

Now, she couldn’t flee.

Chi Zhao reached out. His elbow pressed against her shoulder as he moved behind her to untangle her hair.

But it wasn’t easy.

Gao Jie approached. Noticing the distance between them, she paused silently.

Then, she pulled a pair of scissors from her bag. However, she hesitated before handing them over.

Song Yi noticed her movement and immediately pushed Chi Zhao’s shoulder, pointing toward Gao Jie: “Just cut it with the scissors. That’s fine.”

Receiving the signal, Chi Zhao turned. He squinted slightly, sizing up Gao Jie and the scissors, then said with a sly smile: “No need.”

He turned back and fiddled with her hair, quickly unraveling it. Song Yi lowered her head to confirm she was free, then watched as he stepped back with a grin: “Don’t sacrifice your hair so carelessly.”

Song Yi gazed at his smiling eyes when the sound of scissors falling to the ground rang out.

They both turned toward the source of the noise. Gao Jie had bent down to pick up the fallen object: “Sorry, my hand slipped.”

When she stood up again, her smile was still flawless.

“The theme of our interview this time is documenting Mr. Chi’s daily activities, so it may take some time. I’ll be visiting frequently during these days. Please excuse the disturbance.”

After the basic interview ended, Gao Jie extended thoughtful thanks and greetings to Xia Fan and Song Yi.

Escorting important visitors was part of a secretary’s duties.

In the elevator, Gao Jie unexpectedly initiated conversation: “Today was for work, so I didn’t get to talk much with Secretary Song. But I feel like we might have some chemistry.”

Song Yi responded half-politely, half-sincerely, remaining composed: “I feel the same.”

“Does Secretary Song have any plans tonight?” Gao Jie got straight to the point without preamble, her invitation abrupt.

“No particular plans. What do you mean?”

“I’d like to invite you to dinner,” Gao Jie smiled. “Before that, there’s somewhere I’d like to visit. If you don’t mind, we can go together.”

Song Yi was puzzled: “Where exactly?”

“To Mr. Chi’s home,” Gao Jie said, looking ahead. “His mother’s residence.”

…

Mr. Chi’s biological mother had almost completely severed ties with the Chi family.

Thus, she referred to Chi Shuren’s wife—Chi Zhao’s stepmother.

For a moment, Song Yi was stunned.

“I’ll go,” she heard herself say.

Song Yi had once said to Chi Zhao: “I want to understand more about you.” However, he had stubbornly and persistently rejected her.

He rarely mentioned his family, but from others’ accounts, the Chi household was filled with key factors that shaped Chi Zhao.

Almost instinctively, Song Yi gave a firm affirmative reply.

Before this, she had heard rumors about Gao Jie and Chi Zhao’s mother.

Jenny had told her that Gao Jie had been cultivating her relationship with Chi Zhao’s mother for years.

Without a doubt, her favorability rating with Mrs. Chi should be maxed out.

This was precisely why Gao Jie invited her.

When Gao Jie bent down to pick up the scissors, her face was expressionless.

She had been observing Chi Zhao. As she expected, over the years, he hadn’t shown any signs of developing deeper relationships with anyone.

However, she didn’t know why, but in the elevator, she impulsively extended an invitation to this secretary she had just met.

Rather than an invitation, it was more of a test.

A test of her depth, and additionally, regardless of whether she posed any threat, if possible, she wanted to crush her fighting spirit in one fell swoop.

That was Gao Jie’s intention.

They met as planned and drove to the city’s most upscale residential area. In the car, Song Yi was slightly surprised to find that Chi Zhao owned a separate residence in the same area.

“Don’t worry,” Gao Jie said kindly as they entered. “Mrs. Chi is a good person.”

Chi Zhao’s stepmother was named An Siyue.

A descendant of a financial conglomerate, a talented elite, and a low-key yet dignified figure, she was the woman behind Chi Shuren, the number-one believer and practitioner of The Prince .

Song Yi wasn’t naive enough to let her guard down just because of Gao Jie’s words.

The first impression of the Chi household was one of coldness. The decor was luxurious but adhered to a minimalist European style.

It was hard to imagine Chi Zhao growing up in such a place.

As soon as they entered, a cold, raspy alto voice drifted down from upstairs: “Your perfume taste is terrible.”

Before Song Yi could react, Gao Jie, who was walking ahead, had already apologized with a smile: “Sorry, it’s for business meetings…”

“You usually don’t wear this for meetings. Did you meet someone special today?” The woman appeared in the light.

Her demeanor was far from that of a housewife. Her features bore some resemblance to Chi Chong, but she exuded a cold nobility that made her seem unapproachable.

“Who’s this?” She casually and arrogantly sat on the sofa. “I don’t remember giving you permission to bring anyone.”

“This is… Little Zhao’s secretary,” Gao Jie maintained her smile.

Song Yi immediately bowed in greeting.

An Siyue glanced at her and said: “Did you finally fire that guy Xia Fan?”

What a sharp-tongued woman.

Perhaps thanks to Jenny, Song Yi had gained a general understanding of women like her. Having mentally prepared beforehand, she wasn’t particularly flustered.

An Siyue didn’t offer them seats, but under Gao Jie’s gesture, they sat down anyway.

Gao Jie was clearly a frequent visitor. Her subsequent words demonstrated her familiarity with the Chi household and her regular interactions with An Siyue.

Song Yi was left out of the conversation.

She didn’t try to interject. Simply listening quietly was enough for her.

She had finally arrived at Chi Zhao’s home.

That was sufficient.

“Today, I met Little Zhao. We browsed the company together and chatted about some things,” Gao Jie said with a smile. “This time, he talked to me a lot, and we spent more time together. I’ll continue interacting with him for a while, and hopefully, our feelings will deepen…”

Most of the time, as Gao Jie rambled on, An Siyue remained silent, puffing on her e-cigarette.

Suddenly, she spoke, her tone as aloof and unfeeling as ever: “Probably not. Don’t waste your time.”

“Huh?” Perhaps because of Song Yi’s presence, Gao Jie’s face stiffened momentarily. She said: “But Little Zhao and I…”

An Siyue took a drag of her e-cigarette and calmly said: “You.”

Caught off guard, Song Yi, who had been observing her surroundings, was abruptly drawn back into the women’s meeting.

“You,” An Siyue said. “What’s your name?”

Song Yi steadied herself and replied uncertainly: “I’m Song Yi.”

“Song Yi. I’ll give you five million yuan,” An Siyue raised her hand, resembling the mature and glamorous ladies from Malèna . “Go and fall in love with my son.”