His view differed from Lin Jiaoyu’s — in fact, it was the opposite.
The woman on top was the one in control; Zou Yan was clearly at a disadvantage.
Suddenly, Zong Chi’s mind flashed with understanding.
If his intuition was right, a man who could accompany her to a blind date wouldn’t be someone she truly loved.
If wrong, he had lost his temper over a pack of cigarettes.
He was just upset that she was lowering her standards for someone else, but that didn’t mean the cigarette was her opening up.
It definitely didn’t mean she would stay overnight with someone else.
It had to be that way.
Zong Chi thought of He Dongli and how she got so frustrated that night.
He was sure she had despised his furious outburst deeply in her heart.
Zong Chi briefly lost focus, convinced he had no flaws in his reasoning.
Lin Jiaoyu noticed the strange smile on his face and said without restraint, “Don’t tell me you’ve taken a fancy to that actress. That’s good too — you let A Li go, and she marries some good-looking intellectual. Everybody’s happy.”
“Happy my ass…”
Zong Chi almost cursed but held back.
Picking up a lighter from the table, he disparaged all social institutions of marriage, “Not marrying won’t kill me.”
“Yeah, you’re willing to marry her, young master, but that’s another matter. I still don’t know you!”
Lin Jiaoyu retorted harshly.
After speaking, he watched Zong Chi burn the passionate photo, dropping it into the ashtray.
Zong Chi didn’t care about his friend’s words.
Lin Jiaoyu asked what he meant.
Zong Chi arrogantly replied that he wouldn’t stoop to such dirty tactics, especially when it involved a woman’s reputation.
He just wanted to know what he wanted to know.
There was one more thing Zong Chi didn’t tell Lin Jiaoyu: if he really did that, He Dongli would be the first to look down on him.
That afternoon during tea break, Zong Chi returned from a factory inspection.
Huang Secretary’s meeting with the visitor was tentatively settled.
No sooner had he entered his room than Huang Secretary called him.
Miss Jiang Xingyuan had prepared a gift and wanted to personally meet Mr. Zong.
Zong Chi agreed to help He Dongli with this favor.
Even though he was furious, he didn’t intend to back out, just didn’t want to give her any reason to talk.
She was so aloof and proud — rarely speaking up.
As for the gift, no need, he told the secretary, pressing the phone’s speaker.
On the other end was a slightly unfamiliar female voice, repeatedly assuring it was nothing valuable but that Mr. Zong would like it.
It was recommended by Dongli.
The secretary escorted Jiang Xingyuan upstairs to Zong Chi’s room.
Honestly, he had no impression of her at all.
Jiang Xingyuan was enthusiastic, explaining this economic interview was a long-planned social issue.
Without professional consultants and field research, it was hard to do a good job, so she thanked Mr. Zong for accompanying them on the investigation.
“Don’t worry, we will submit the final draft to Huang Secretary and you for approval before publishing.”
Zong Chi casually invited her to sit.
“Since we’re alumni, no need for such formalities. Calling me Mr. Zong makes me shudder.”
Jiang Xingyuan was lively, very straightforward, a perfect match for someone with a sensitive temperament.
“How could that be? Why would you shudder?”
Zong Chi handed her water.
“Usually, people who call me that don’t think I’m a good person.”
Jiang Xingyuan smiled quietly and changed the subject after drinking.
“Anyway, thank you for giving us this platform opportunity.”
“You’re welcome. You guys worked hard, after all.”
Knowing that big shots say “you’re welcome” but don’t mean it, she quickly flattered him.
“Dongli said you and your father rarely accept interviews from self-media. I know you made an exception this time.”
Zong Chi’s expression was indifferent.
“No, I was just scaring her.”
Jiang Xingyuan was at a loss for words and put the fruit basket she brought on the desk.
Zong Chi barely glanced at it and politely declined, “No need for this.”
She explained, “Before coming, I thought I should bring you a gift. I asked Dongli, and she said writing a satisfactory article was the best gift. She finally gave in and told me you don’t eat much fruit because of your exercise routine, so I brought mostly bananas for quick energy and to reduce neuromuscular tension.”
So, Jiang Xingyuan had brought a basket of bananas from various places for their alumnus.
Zong Chi felt a dizzy emptiness in his chest for over sixty seconds.
He almost blurted out, “Why did she tell you all this?”
Jiang Xingyuan, honest as ever, said her best friend wanted to curse Zong Chi for getting angry over a pack of cigarettes and wondered who he thought he was.
Unfortunately, the higher-ranking official always wins in these matters, so she had to keep her stance clear:
“Because that’s just who Dongli is. Business is not about loyalty but about profit. She said her relationship with you is separate. Since I’m here to curry favor, I have to bring something that hits your heart. Something valuable could look like bribery, so a friendly, safe gift is better.”
Zong Chi never imagined one day he’d be speechless over a basket of uneven bananas, and yet he’d still get scolded for accepting gifts.
In front of the alumna, he peeled a banana and ate it.
Jiang Xingyuan’s explanation was exactly what Zong Chi had told He Dongli when she asked why he only ate bananas: safe, convenient, easy to peel, and helps ease tension.
Those who receive gifts must be polite and say thank you.
Jiang Xingyuan blushed a little and quickly asked, “When are you free? Let me treat you to a meal.”
Zong Chi glanced at her calmly, “Just the two of us?”
Jiang Xingyuan understood immediately but, being loyal to her friend, said, “Hmm? You mean inviting Dongli? That probably won’t work — she just sent me her new shift schedule this week. It’ll be hard to find a convenient time.”
Zong Chi put down the half-eaten banana, scratched an itch between his brows, then let it go.
In his heart, he snorted coldly.
Indeed, a good friend passes on the calendar-sharing tradition to her best friend.
When the secretary escorted Jiang Xingyuan out, Zong Chi almost asked, “Miss Jiang, do you smoke?”
But the look on his face — cold and impatient — was no different from how he dealt with those top clients.
He said what he needed and let the secretary see her out.
That night, Zong Chi didn’t order any food until past eight.
When Huang Secretary came to collect the signed documents, she teasingly asked, “Are you on a carbon fast tonight?”
Zong Chi replied indifferently, “I’m not eating. Don’t bother me.”
Before leaving, the secretary handed him a souvenir from her vacation:
A limited-edition StellaLou chocolate from Hong Kong Disneyland.
Zong Chi glanced at her, “This souvenir is a bit half-hearted. Don’t tell me it’s what your girlfriend left over?”
Huang Secretary never joked during work but today, having caught some gossip and seeing her boss starve himself, she couldn’t resist sharing.
“You like Bunny Rabbit Plush Toy, so StellaLou isn’t much different, right?”
Zong Chi’s expression was uglier and more hateful than a centipede in a chicken coop.
He had to maintain his boss image and teasingly replied, “Yeah, I can tell you had a great vacation.”
Huang Secretary was grateful for the leave approval.
She had heard he stayed in the country working, immediately took leave knowing when he’d return to Singapore, but never got this chance.
So she had to say some bureaucratic flattery: “People work to live better, and a better life is the driving force to work.”
Zong Chi translated plainly, “You two maxed out your credit cards for a week and then came back to earn money to pay it off.”
Huang Secretary nodded with no objection.
“Why do adults still want to go to Disney?”
Zong Chi suddenly asked his secretary.
Huang Secretary didn’t like going but her girlfriend did.
Her girlfriend’s words: “Children go chasing happiness because they believe in fairy tales. Adults pay to buy happiness because they know that once they leave, they have to surrender to reality.”
Zong Chi said nothing, just raised the chocolate in thanks.
Before returning to her room, Huang Secretary couldn’t help but ask, “So, today’s Miss Jiang isn’t the owner of Bunny Rabbit Plush Toy?”
“You’re talking too much today.”
“Yes, I’m just curious what the owner of Bunny Rabbit Plush Toy looks like.”
That whole night, Zong Chi was annoyed by the constant mention of Bunny Rabbit Plush Toy.
Eventually, he rescued it from the dark corner of the safe.
After a thorough wash, it lost its original plush cuteness.
Zong Chi used a hairdryer to dry it, recalling what she once told him:
When she bought her own car, she would stick a Bunny Rabbit Plush Toy or Strawberry Bear on the back and only drive on sunny days.
Zong Chi didn’t understand her obsession with plush toys or why she would only drive on sunny days.
He asked.
He Dongli said, “Because on rainy days, they’ll get wet.”
Zong Chi: “Idiot, why don’t you just drive another car on rainy days?”
He Dongli hid behind the plush toy, silent for a moment, then fiddled with the ears and agreed with him.
Zong Chi hugged the rabbit in his arms and curled up on the sofa, trying to feel the attachment in it.
“You’re right.”
He raised his other hand holding his phone, staring at the friend request screen for a long time before finally clicking accept by tugging the rabbit’s long ear.
He kept his phone’s battery under 20% until he hadn’t even thought of a greeting.
In the end, he sent a brief, perfunctory message: “I took care of Jiang Xingyuan’s matter for you.”
He hadn’t even introduced himself when the reply came quickly, perhaps because it was a shift change or off-duty: two simple “thank you” messages.
Zong Chi felt a heavy weight in those two words.
She was no longer dodging and hiding like at the Liang family.
So he sent a second message, quick and sharp as his mind:
“I forgot to return your pearl earrings. Do you still want them?”