HGG - 9

She was dressed in a neat, professional women’s suit as she approached the café and looked around before sitting down. The server had just arrived, and the coffee menu filled with various types of coffee was handed over but quickly intercepted.

“Get me a glass of plain water,” Song Yi said.

Now wasn’t the time to spend money carelessly.

“I’ll have a Kopi Luwak,” someone suddenly interjected. Zhan Heqing sat down wearing a mask and sunglasses, his suspicious demeanor attracting quite a few curious glances.

Song Yi remained silent for a moment before pointing out, “I think your disguise is rather counterproductive.”

Zhan Heqing ignored her comment and said directly, “Jenny hates you so much that she’s even searching online for ‘how to get rid of a love rival.’ Though I checked the results—none of them are reliable.”

“I saw her posting about voodoo dolls on social media recently,” Song Yi calmly took a sip of water.

“You’re still checking her social media?” Zhan Heqing took a sip of his coffee, then stuck out his tongue in complaint about the taste.

Song Yi didn’t deny it. “Mm, she loves posting updates.”

“Yeah, her need for attention is excessive.”

“Oh, there’s something I wanted to ask,” Song Yi suddenly remembered. She said, “Vice President Zhan, could you recommend any affordable places to stay? Something has come up at home recently, and I can’t keep staying in the office.”

As for this matter, Zhan Heqing didn’t find it difficult. “Chongyou does have employee dormitories. The prices and locations are reasonable, but they’re usually fully occupied. You should ask Assistant Xia about it.”

Song Yi thanked him sincerely. In the morning, she went to Xia Fan.

Xia Fan only needed a brief moment of recollection before agreeing readily. “Sure. When would you like to move in?”

“If possible,” Song Yi requested earnestly, “the sooner, the better.”

Xia Fan reviewed her living conditions in the office these past few days and said, “Let’s go take a look today.”

After finishing their overtime work, Xia Fan and Song Yi clocked out together and took the subway to their destination.

It was an apartment building that seemed somewhat dated. Xia Fan led her inside. The middle floors felt lifeless, and they only stopped upon reaching the top floor.

There were only two suites on this floor. Xia Fan took out his keys and opened the door to the eastern suite.

Inside, things were scattered in disarray, yet many daily necessities were present, giving the impression that the previous tenant had left in a hurry.

Even Xia Fan hadn’t expected the situation to be so promising. “You just need to clean up a bit, then buy some new bedding—it seems you can sleep here tonight.”

Song Yi nodded in agreement. Just then, her phone rang—it was Xia Fan receiving a client call. He gestured for Song Yi to wait a moment and stepped inside to talk.

Song Yi looked around and found the cleaning tools in the stairwell. As she walked over, the door to the opposite unit opened.

A man emerged from the other side. His face was covered in stubble, thick square-framed glasses perched on his nose, his hair disheveled, barefoot, wearing a dirty T-shirt. A strong smell of oil paint wafted out from the room.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then both spoke at the same time.

The man asked, “Are you the new tenant?”

Song Yi politely inquired, “Are you painting?”

Hearing his question, she immediately replied, “Yes, I’m Song Yi, moving in today. At Chongyou, I’m responsible for…” Before she could finish, the man suddenly stepped forward and grabbed her hand.

Eh? Song Yi felt a bit suspicious but saw the man’s face light up with a smile as he leaned closer.

“Do you like art too?” he exclaimed happily.

Song Yi subtly took a step back. If she once had some interest in drawing, now she knew nothing about it.

She wanted to refute him, but the man suddenly realized his own impropriety. He withdrew his hand but still asked enthusiastically, “Would you like to see my work?”

He appeared sincere and friendly, evoking a strong sense of déjà vu in Song Yi. Looking at his scruffy yet innocent smile, Song Yi hesitated.

Just then, her gaze passed through the man and the doorframe, landing on an inconspicuous oil painting inside the room.

The painting depicted a woman’s half-length portrait from behind.

She wore a red dress, her waterfall-like long hair pinned atop her head. From the exposed side of her face, one could clearly see her long eyelashes and the glow of her cheekbones when she smiled.

Song Yi was momentarily dazed and unconsciously took two steps forward. Even as she mechanically turned her head to glance around, nothing else caught her attention.

In the end, her focus returned to this painting.

The artist’s brushstrokes, emotions—all were displayed in this piece with restraint yet exquisite precision.

The man behind her asked, “Among the paintings here, do any catch your eye?”

Song Yi paused for a long while, then turned her head to look at him. She answered firmly, “This one.”

She liked only this one.

The man’s originally clear and warm smile faltered slightly, and he sighed. There was a hint of disappointment in his expression.

At that moment, Xia Fan’s voice came from outside the door: “Secretary Song, Mr. Chi—”

Mr. Chi? Song Yi immediately turned to look, but Xia Fan also noticed her reaction.

He introduced, “This is Mr. Chi Yu, also Mr. Chi Zhao’s older brother.”

The Chi family had three sons. Besides the eldest son, Chi Chong, and the youngest, Chi Zhao, there was also the second son, Chi Yu.

Chi Yu smiled and waved casually. He turned to pour them some water, his approachable demeanor far from that of a wealthy young master. On the table, Song Yi spotted a photograph.

There were three people in the photo. One was Chi Yu, dressed plainly. Another person Song Yi recognized well—Chi Zhao, wearing his middle school uniform, stood beside his older brother, looking laid-back.

The final person exuded warmth and refinement, dressed in a suit. He appeared more mature than his younger brothers, but anyone who met him would undoubtedly leave with the same impression—

He was a kind person.

Song Yi suddenly recalled the information she had seen online about Chi Chong, the first heir of Chongming.

The car crashed through the guardrail and plunged into the sea.

The shimmering surface of the sea and the silver-gray sedan tracing a parabolic arc as it fell. Song Yi imagined such a scene when Xia Fan suddenly spoke up: “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this painting.”

Song Yi snapped back to reality and asked, “What?”

“This painting,” Xia Fan said, looking at the portrait on the canvas, “was painted by Chi Zhao.”

“Eh?”

Xia Fan was unaware of their earlier conversation, so he spoke without hesitation: “Both Chi Yu and Chi Zhao have studied painting. All the works in this room are Chi Yu’s, except for this one.”

Song Yi looked at the painting in astonishment.

A few days later, the Chongming banquet was held as scheduled.

This night had finally arrived.

Song Yi changed into the dress that had been delivered beforehand and took the company car to the beauty salon. The jewelry was borrowed from another department, all new designs.

With everything ready, Song Yi let out a sigh of relief. As she turned around, she lost her balance and stumbled sideways.

She was caught by the person behind her. Chi Zhao reached out reflexively, pulling her close by the waist before she could steady herself.

Song Yi stared at his face as he leaned down, startled. Chi Zhao chuckled and released her with practiced ease.

The car they were riding in today was different from usual—a chauffeur-driven vehicle, with them sitting in the backseat, making Song Yi think of the treatment reserved for royalty in movies.

She had never experienced such an arrangement before and unconsciously took a deep breath, which Chi Zhao noticed.

“Don’t be nervous, don’t be nervous, don’t be nervous,” he repeated three times, then asked, “Do you want to watch a video?”

“Uh,” Song Yi replied hesitantly, “I can’t focus on My Little Pony today.”

Chi Zhao burst into soft laughter, shifting his body in the car. He didn’t seem the least bit stifled by the confined space.

“It’s not My Little Pony ,” he said.

Today, Chi Zhao’s appearance stood out even more than usual.

Dressed head-to-toe in black, wearing a custom-tailored suit, his short hair styled neatly, exposing his forehead, which made him look younger. Behind the suit jacket’s collar was a crisp white shirt paired with a black tie—clean, distinct, yet exuding seriousness and solemnity.

Upon entering, he greeted various seniors and superiors with impeccable manners, making it hard to believe that just ten minutes ago, he had been showing his secretary the horror movie Alien in the car, claiming it was “to make you less scared later.”

Chi Zhao’s father hadn’t arrived yet, so the bouquet of blue roses was temporarily placed in a vase in the first-floor hall. Several directors of Chongming waved him upstairs.

The space upstairs was narrow, and the accompanying staff stayed outside. Chi Zhao turned to look at Song Yi and said, “You can wander around if you’d like.”

Song Yi nodded, watching as he hurried toward the stairs.

At the corner, he turned back and waved at her with a smile. Song Yi waved back, but as she turned around, she immediately heard a sarcastic taunt from ahead: “So you know how to smile too, huh?”

Unconsciously, she had been smiling again. Song Yi quickly regained her composure.

It was Jenny. She was wearing a long pink embroidered gown. When Song Yi noticed, she gave it a brief glance—it was the same dress Jenny had worn in last month’s birthday banquet group photo.

Jenny never wore the same dress twice.

“Coming to a place that doesn’t suit your status makes you this happy?” Jenny questioned, enunciating each word. “Secretary Song.”

Song Yi had just sent Jenny off from Chongyou moments ago, only to immediately accompany Chi Zhao. Anyone in Jenny’s position would have felt some anger toward her.

Song Yi simply said, “It’s all for Mr. Chi’s work.”

“I don’t care what cheap tricks you used,” Jenny said. “Follow me.”

With that, she turned and walked toward another staircase.

It was in the shadows, the section leading to the second floor hidden in darkness. Song Yi raised her eyes slightly but still followed her up.

When they reached a spot where they couldn’t be seen from below, Jenny suddenly stopped.

She turned around, blocking Song Yi in the deserted area, and confronted her aggressively: “Do you know how many years I’ve known Chi Zhao? I know ugly ducklings like you love daydreaming, but do you really think he’d ever like someone like you?”

The two stood opposite each other on the same stairway, Jenny growing increasingly agitated as she spoke. Finally, she grabbed Song Yi’s hand.

“He and I are meant to be together!” After shouting this, Jenny abruptly let go of Song Yi and fell backward down the stairs.

In that instant, the scene slowed to a series of frames, like a slow-motion film. Song Yi saw a smile appear on Jenny’s face.

This was Jenny’s plan.

As the victim and the eldest daughter of Chongming, no one would dare side against her.

Whether it was Chi Zhao or the position of secretary, anyone who opposed her would face destruction.

Jenny felt her body falling backward. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, bracing for the pain. However, the anticipated impact never came.

The hand that had just been pushed away swiftly reached out and grabbed her.

Opening her eyes, Jenny saw a fleeting smile on Song Yi’s icy face. She suddenly remembered her earlier taunt—”So you know how to smile too, huh?”

“I’ve got you,” Song Yi said.