#23: New Love?

Not long after Lin Xingzi left the private room, Zhan Yan also stood up.

Although Li Yao didn’t know much about what had transpired between Zhan Yan and Lin Xingzi, Chairman Zhan’s intentions were clear. In Li Yao’s eyes, tonight’s dinner wasn’t just about business—it was something more.

With so many people present, Chairman Zhan was a man who valued appearances. Though Li Yao hadn’t said it outright, his words subtly conveyed that “Lin Xingzi isn’t single right now.” Businessmen pursued profit, but he only had one niece. The company hadn’t reached the point where they needed to sacrifice her marriage or emotions for success. Chairman Zhan, being the shrewd and experienced man he was, naturally understood.

As Lin Xingzi turned the corner into the corridor, Zhan Yan stubbed out his cigarette and approached her. “Are you leaving? Shall I give you a ride?”

“No need,” Lin Xingzi replied firmly. “Someone is picking me up.”

“Your assistant? Secretary? Boyfriend? I haven’t heard anything about you having a new love interest.” Their social circles overlapped significantly, and acquaintances of acquaintances were still acquaintances. Even though Zhan Yan was abroad, news from Haishi reached him with just a phone call.

He had heard that after Lin Xingzi returned to the country, she became completely absorbed in her work, no longer as playful as before, and there weren’t any casual flings around her.

“This ring…” He suddenly noticed the plain band on the fourth finger of her left hand. It was so simple that calling it “ordinary” would be an overstatement. But her hands were beautiful—she could wear a ring made of dried grass, and it wouldn’t look bad.

Lin Xingzi ignored him, flicked her hand behind her back, and hid the ring. She seemed to spot someone, and the impatience and annoyance in her expression instantly dissipated. Following her gaze, Zhan Yan saw a man entering the lobby in a police uniform, looking for someone to ask a question.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him.

In the past, whenever asked what kind of man she liked, she would always say, “Rich ones.”

“Xingzi,” Zhan Yan stood behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, his gaze audaciously sizing up Jiang Yan. “After breaking up with me, your standards have really dropped—not just by a little.”

Because of this comment, she finally glanced at him. “Can you at least act human?”

“Jiang Jiang.”

“Over here,” Lin Xingzi turned around, a smile spreading across her face. “You haven’t met my uncle since you came back. Wait until he comes out, say hello to him, and then we’ll leave.”

She had no intention of introducing Zhan Yan.

In fact, there was no need.

Unlike Zhan Yan’s lack of memory, Jiang Yan had an exceptional memory. People he met once stayed vividly in his mind, and his colleagues at the police station were all in awe of this ability.

When he was in his third year of high school and she was in her first, her schedule wasn’t as packed. She often visited the senior hall to see Lin Sang and Lin Ke. Countless pairs of eyes secretly peeked at her through the glass windows. Occasionally, a boy followed behind her—just as dashing and unruly as now—and even the teachers treated him politely.

“Alright,” Jiang Yan first shifted his gaze, naturally taking her hand. “Cold?”

“It’s fine. Dinner lasted three hours, and the air conditioning in the private room was set too low,” Lin Xingzi leaned against him, flexing her ankle slightly. “My legs hurt a bit. Let’s go sit on the sofa.”

Zhan Yan lit another cigarette, white smoke swirling around him. He didn’t say anything, but the smirk on his lips faded.

The dinner ended late. When Ji Qiuchi, leaning on Chairman Zhan, came out, Jiang Yan had gone to the restroom. She had drunk quite a bit, her cleavage exposed, exuding charm. Lin Xingzi didn’t want Jiang Yan to see her like this.

Whether it was against her will or self-degradation, if Jiang Yan saw her like this, he wouldn’t feel no pity. He had told her their relationship wasn’t what Lin Xingzi thought it was, so for now, she believed him. After watching the car drive away, she got into the passenger seat.

While waiting for Jiang Yan, Lin Xingzi scrolled through her phone. Assistant Chen had sent several WeChat messages, first asking if he had done something wrong, then reflecting on his shortcomings during work, promising to do better in the future, and hoping to stay in his current position.

“What are you looking at?” Jiang Yan started the car, turning the steering wheel.

Lin Xingzi’s compassion was as rare as a rock moving—it happened maybe once a year. At most, she felt a bit sorry for Assistant Chen. A job transfer wasn’t the same as being fired.

“I’m replying to some work messages,” Lin Xingzi put away her phone, propping her elbow on the window frame to watch Jiang Yan drive.

It was just a painful #from the past. She wasn’t wrong; what she needed was for Zhan Yan to keep his mouth shut and stop provoking her.

At the intersection, the red light lingered. Jiang Yan turned his head, meeting her gaze. The neon lights reflected in her tea-colored pupils, blurring his image faintly. A certain chord was struck, and his body reacted before his mind. As a policeman, he knew well that inappropriate actions shouldn’t be taken while driving, but he couldn’t suppress the restlessness in his heart.

Just as Lin Xingzi was about to close her eyes, Jiang Yan stopped unfastening his seatbelt and looked past her, out the car window.

She paused for half a second, then turned her head too.

Next to them was a Pagani, Chairman Zhan’s car.

She had watched it merge into traffic just ten minutes earlier outside the restaurant.

A woman in the backseat struggled to sit up but was violently pushed down by a hand grabbing her hair. Her fingers clutched the car window as if pleading for help, then fell limp after giving up, leaving wet streaks on the glass.

3, 2, 1…

The green light lit up. The Pagani drove off, crossing the zebra crossing. Jiang Yan slammed the accelerator, speeding forward at an incredible rate. Lin Xingzi’s heart leapt to her throat, instinctively gripping the handle tightly.

The driver ahead realized someone was following and sped up, trying to shake them off. They overtook five cars, but Jiang Yan relentlessly pursued. The speedometer needle hit 120, and the street scenes outside blurred into overlapping shadows. Lin Xingzi’s expression darkened gradually.