[“If you don’t let me lose my job, I’ll look down on you.”]

The moment Zhou Leqi entered the conference room, she saw Hou Zihao sitting at the head of the table.

It had only been about half a month since their last meeting, and he hadn’t changed much. This time, however, he was dressed in a black suit, appearing particularly formal and serious.

She had never seen him in a suit in person before—only in photos, and those were from seven years ago. At that time, she had returned to D City to visit her grandparents, while he attended his parents’ company annual meeting. During a brief break, he called her, and at her request, hastily took a blurry photo and sent it to her. Despite the poor quality, she had cherished it, keeping it stored on her phone ever since.

Revisiting such memories after their breakup always felt inappropriate. Determined not to appear as an undignified ex, Zhou Leqi quickly averted her gaze, calmly walking to her seat and sitting down.

However, her obvious tardiness inevitably drew Jason’s disapproval. While such an incident might have been overlooked under normal circumstances, it was particularly problematic given the presence of the client. Jason frowned, clearly displeased.

Just as he was about to reprimand her, Pei Qiming, seated beside him, interjected, explaining on her behalf: “I’m sorry, I asked Lucky to help reply to a few emails. It’s my fault.”

With that simple sentence, Pei Qiming took full responsibility.

Jason had always admired Pei Qiming, and if anyone else had tried to smooth things over, he likely wouldn’t have accepted it. But coming from Pei Qiming, it made all the difference. The harsh words Jason had prepared died on his lips, and he simply said, “Be more careful next time,” dismissing the matter.

Everyone at SWD was well aware of the special relationship between Pei Qiming and Zhou Leqi. Witnessing this heroic rescue scene sparked subtle, knowing glances among their colleagues, their gazes shifting meaningfully between Zhou Leqi and Pei Qiming. Sitting across from them, Hou Zihao couldn’t help but notice the underlying tension.

Her and Pei Qiming…

His expression darkened further.

The initial meeting didn’t involve any substantial discussions—it was more of a formality. The senior executives exchanged pleasantries to demonstrate their commitment to collaboration. The real work would be handled by the lower-level staff. On the spot, Jason introduced the team responsible for the due diligence process: Alvin, Daisy, and Lucky.

Zhang Jun expressed satisfaction with SWD’s arrangements and proceeded to introduce Runyuan’s personnel. He mentioned a few mid-level managers in their thirties before finally introducing Hou Zihao.

“This is Mr. Hou, who recently returned from Oxford. He is highly trusted by our chairman,” Zhang Jun said with a smile. “You can communicate directly with him regarding IPO-related matters. Mr. Hou fully represents our chairman.”

Although SWD’s team had anticipated that this newly arrived Mr. Hou held significant status, they were still surprised by how highly Zhang Jun elevated him—”fully representing Chairman Yuan.” What did that mean? Was Runyuan changing leadership?

It was unclear.

Jason, ever the diplomat, personally stood up to shake hands with Runyuan’s Mr. Hou. Moreover, he introduced his most trusted subordinate, Pei Qiming, saying, “On our side, the specific operations will be overseen by President Pei. As the saying goes, heroes emerge young. Although he is still young, he has handled numerous projects and is the most reliable partner.”

When called upon, Pei Qiming stood up, locking eyes with Hou Zihao. The two outstanding men shook hands under the watchful eyes of everyone present. The atmosphere was both formal and dignified, yet strangely…微妙 (nuanced).

After the meeting, Runyuan’s executives left SWD. Jason personally escorted the project team downstairs. Throughout the entire process, Zhou Leqi kept her head bowed, avoiding eye contact with Hou Zihao.

Once they returned to the office, before she could even sit down, her phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number.

She casually answered it, and immediately, a familiar voice came through.

“Come out for a moment.”

The voice was low and hurried, and the call ended abruptly before she could respond.

Zhou Leqi paused for a moment, then stood up from her desk.

He had only said, “Come out for a moment,” without specifying where to meet. After leaving the office, she decided to take the elevator downstairs to check. Just as her right hand reached for the elevator button, her left wrist was suddenly gripped tightly. Before she could react, she was pulled into the stairwell.

The heavy safety door emitted a loud sound, echoing through the corridor. Looking up, she saw the familiar man in his black suit, his face appearing somewhat somber under the cold white lights.

He cornered her against the wall behind the door, his tall frame exuding immense pressure. His gaze locked onto her as he demanded, “Why are you here?”

He appeared domineering, his eyes concealing a volatile intensity. Yet, she wasn’t afraid at all. Instead, she gave a light, dismissive smile and replied, “What does Mr. Hou mean? I’m just working here peacefully. Is there a problem?”

Calm and composed.

He cursed under his breath, visibly agitated. After a brief silence, he pressed her again: “Did you find out during quarantine? Did you know back then that you’d be handling Runyuan’s project?”

Hou Zihao was an exceptionally perceptive individual. Even if Zhou Leqi hadn’t explicitly revealed anything, he could deduce much from the smallest details.

He had found her behavior strange during quarantine. A few days earlier, she had barely spoken to him, but after a phone call with Pei Qiming, her attitude had shifted significantly. He guessed she must have received news about the Runyuan project then, which made her confident they would cross paths professionally again.

She had him figured out.

After knowing her for so long, whether seven years ago or now, he had always willingly compromised for her. He allowed her to do as she pleased. But this situation with Runyuan was different—he absolutely could not let her get involved.

“You cannot touch this project,” he said sternly. “Ask Pei Qiming to transfer you to another team. Work on something else.”

At this, Zhou Leqi couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. Looking up at him, she countered, “Transfer teams? On what grounds? Are you kicking me out because you, as my ex, don’t like seeing me here? Why should I give up a project I’ve already secured? And what gives you the right to interfere with SWD’s internal arrangements?”

Her sharp tone fueled his anger. He pinned her even tighter against the wall, exuding a dangerous aura she had never seen before. Enunciating each word, he said, “Zhou Leqi, I’m not joking. You absolutely cannot touch this project. Stay as far away as possible.”

His demeanor was so unfamiliar that it frightened her. However, she refused to show her fear, instead responding even more forcefully: “Why? Why should I avoid this project? Will something dangerous happen?”

He fell silent.

“I can choose to step back, but only if you’re completely honest with me,” she said, enunciating each word just as firmly. “Tell me the reason. Otherwise, I’ll see this through to the end, no matter what.”

Resolute, unyielding.

Her attitude pushed him to the brink of explosion. She could feel him struggling to control his temper, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

Finally, he stepped back, putting some distance between them. With visible frustration, he loosened his meticulously tied tie, making him appear more wild and untamed, like a reckless aristocrat.

After about five minutes, he calmed down, his gaze colder than before.

“You must have heard earlier—I’m fully responsible for this collaboration with SWD. If I request to replace you, what do you think your boss will do?”

This was a threat: Rather than being replaced by him, she should proactively seek a transfer to minimize the damage.

Zhou Leqi understood the implication but remained unfazed. Perhaps deep down, she believed this man would never harm her. He cherished her and was willing to bend his principles endlessly for her.

“Then go ahead and replace me.”

She looked at him, her tone perfectly balanced—assertive yet subtly soft.

“My mom and I plan to buy a house next year, but we haven’t saved enough for the down payment yet. If you get my boss to fire me, that would be perfect. I won’t have to worry about taking out a loan.”

“Then I’ll keep renting in Tongzhou, commuting four hours daily to look for jobs. Won’t that be great?”

He: “...”

She knew exactly how to handle him, leveraging his feelings for her to do as she pleased. Finally, she added:

“If you’re going to replace me, do it soon. No point in finishing all the work and not getting my bonus.”

“If you don’t let me lose my job, I’ll look down on you.”

With that, she opened the door and walked out of the stairwell.

This confrontation with Hou Zihao drained almost all of Zhou Leqi’s energy that day. Unfortunately, in the afternoon, Pei Qiming also summoned her to his office. As soon as she entered, he gestured for her to sit, clearly intending for a lengthy conversation.

“Lucky,” Pei Qiming hesitated, his tone trailing off, “you and him…”

His question was incomplete, perhaps finding the rest difficult to articulate.

In truth, even if he hadn’t said a word, Zhou Leqi could guess what he wanted to ask. Pei Qiming knew she had been thinking of Hou Zihao all these years. Yet today, when they met in the conference room, her reaction had been calm. Pei Qiming naturally inferred they had already met before.

She didn’t conceal it, answering directly: “We met—in Italy.”

Pei Qiming was momentarily taken aback, then nodded. After a brief silence, he asked more subtly, “And between the two of you…”

Again, his words trailed off.

This was perhaps how adults communicated—always hinting, always tactfully concealing, always requiring both parties to probe and infer, thereby protecting everyone from harm as much as possible.

Zhou Leqi understood and provided a clear answer: “We talked it out. We officially said goodbye.”

This response seemed to catch Pei Qiming off guard. He had likely assumed that any encounter between her and Hou Zihao would reignite their past romance. This outcome surprised him greatly, leaving him unsure how to react or whether he should feel relieved.

By now, Zhou Leqi had moved the conversation forward, her expression calm and composed.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let it affect my work. Professional boundaries are clear to me.”

“Hmm?” Pei Qiming was momentarily lost, reacting a few seconds later. “Oh, of course—I trust your professionalism completely.”

Zhou Leqi gave him a grateful smile. After a moment’s thought, she added, slightly concerned, “But if…”

She suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Pei Qiming, uneasy, pressed further: “What is it?”

She remained silent, as if carefully considering her words. Finally, she smiled and shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she said with a faint smile. “No ‘ifs.’”