After dinner and checking on his wife and daughter, Tan Zhengjin didn’t stay overnight at the postpartum center—he had surgery the next morning.
“Zong Chi should be heading back to Singapore tomorrow. He was in a rush this time. I’ll go see him again, just to round things off.”
His wife agreed, “Go ahead. By the way, Zong Chi is only thirty, and his father is already seventy. Is it really like the news says—that he’s the child of a mistres s who became the heir? Didn’t Zong Jingzhou’s first wife have any children?”
Tan Zhengjin was annoyed by such rumors, “You believe that gossip? Old Zong married properly and had kids, alright?”
After so many years of marriage, his wife was naturally curious about a long-lost relative suddenly reappearing, especially someone from the renowned Zong Family, famous both at home and abroad.
“If it was all proper, why are there so many wild rumors?”
“Nonsense. The old man’s a bit eccentric, and the son’s a little rascal. It’s a long story—I’ll tell you next time.”
After leaving the postpartum center, Tan Zhengjin called Zong Chi, and his secretary answered.
She said he was at the hotel, in a video conference with his team.
After being informed of the call, the secretary relayed that Mr. Zong said he was free and invited Dr. Tan over.
Tan Zhengjin arrived at the Peninsula Hotel, where Huang Secretary opened the door.
There were voices inside, and the living room was covered with a temporary dust mat, sprinkled with a few stray hairs.
Two people—likely a hairstylist and an assistant—were tidying up.
Huang Secretary said Mr. Zong had just gotten a haircut and was now showering.
She saw the hairstylist and assistant out as she spoke.
On the sofa sat Zong Chi’s investment partner, who was also the founder of a well-known Mobile Game Company, Chen Xiangyang.
Chen Xiangyang had once brought a sincere business plan to Zong Jingzhou seeking investment, but after many attempts, he never even got a meeting.
The last time, he lingered in Mr. Zong’s vacation villa community, but still never got to meet him.
There was also a young woman in similar straits.
After getting no answers at the security booth, she walked back alone.
It was the rainy season.
A car stopped, and someone asked, “Are you Chinese?”
The rain was so heavy that Chen Xiangyang didn’t delay.
He exchanged a few words in their native tongue, “It’s hard to get a ride here. I can give you a lift?”
He ended up dropping the lady off at her hotel.
Before the car even stopped, a luxury business sedan had already been waiting to pick up He Dongli.
A week later, Zong Jingzhou’s assistant contacted Chen Xiangyang, saying Mr. Zong wanted to meet him.
But it wasn’t Zong Jingzhou—it was his son.
Zong Chi agreed to invest in Chen Xiangyang.
Back then, he wasn’t even twenty-one.
He didn’t have the all-powerful reputation people imagined; he hadn’t even reached the age to benefit from the family trust.
He joked that this money was from his first bucket of gold earned from coding…
Well, there wasn’t much, most of it was a huge “bet” his father lost to him.
Basically, it was just a rich kid’s pocket money.
Chen Xiangyang desperately needed the funds and didn’t care which Zong he was dealing with.
But he was curious, “Why are you willing to invest in me?”
“Thank you for helping my girlfriend and sending her back to the hotel. It was her first time flying over to see me on her own, but the surprise turned into a shock. My father suddenly got sick and was hospitalized, and she couldn’t reach me…”
Later, Chen Xiangyang ran into Dongli several times in S City and always introduced her as his benefactor.
She truly had helped them more than once.
Tan Zhengjin and Chen Xiangyang were both from S City.
Thanks to Zong Chi, they had met and had meals together a few times.
With the host still in the shower, the two made small talk, and Chen Xiangyang congratulated Dr. Tan on becoming a father again, joking about the ups and downs of life.
Realizing he’d used the word “death,” he quickly corrected himself, “Dr. Tan, don’t take it the wrong way.”
Before Tan Zhengjin could reply, someone came out of the hallway—hair half-dry, sticking up in all directions, with no style at all.
He wore a gunmetal-gray bathrobe, obviously not hotel-issued, tossed the towel aside, and said, “For people who work with knives, life and death are just part of the job.”
Huang Secretary was serving tea to Dr. Tan and asked Zong Chi, “Would you like anything to drink?”
Zong Chi shook his head, indicating that was enough for today and the secretary could go rest.
Huang Secretary was eager to get off work.
Before leaving, she put the freshly dry-cleaned clothes in the boss’s room, and when she came out, she was holding a pink Bunny Rabbit Plush Toy, looking surprised and puzzled.
“Did the hotel give this as part of the turndown service?”
You couldn’t blame her; her boss was the type of unromantic STEM guy who killed any flowers within a ten-mile radius.
Today, after returning from a branch office, the room was a bit messy from meetings.
She’d called housekeeping for a cleanup and, just in case, requested turndown service.
She was worried she hadn’t been clear, and the hotel had sent the boss a comfort plush toy—pink, no less.
She was afraid that after she’d gone to bed, he’d suddenly get it into his head to call for a redo.
Usually, for such pointless questions, the boss’s trademark reply was: “How should I know?”
But Zong Chi, sitting there with a pale face, said nothing at all.
Instead, Dr. Tan spoke up, “Hey, I actually came here to get that from you. Why are you taking my daughter’s gift?”
The man in question showed no expression, just reached out and took the toy from the secretary, muttering, “Your daughter has too many similar gifts. I’m just consolidating a few for her.”
Tan Zhengjin burst out laughing, “Taking without asking—that’s called stealing.”
Chen Xiangyang, still in the dark, asked, “Stealing what?”
Zong Chi took the rabbit from the secretary and stuffed it behind his waist, signaling with his hand that the secretary could leave.
At the door, Huang Secretary heard the three men chatting inside. Dr. Tan mentioned someone’s name, and Chen added, “There aren’t many friends who’d go to such lengths for Dongli. Does she have relatives in the countryside?”
Dr. Tan said he couldn’t disclose patient information, but repeated what Dongli had said in the OR—that it was a friend’s grandmother.
Chen Xiangyang, growing more curious, said he’d seen Dongli during Mid-Autumn Festival, when she had dinner with the Xu Family.
To be precise, only Xu Xize was there.
Xu Xize had introduced Dongli to a renowned reconstructive surgeon at a private hospital.
Technically, the Xu Family was Dongli’s “maternal family.”
He Mother and Xu Father had lived together for over ten years.
Xu Xize was, in name, Dongli’s older brother.
The reason for “in name” was that He Mother and Xu Father were not legally married.
Chen Xiangyang, as Zong Chi’s partner and a fan of Zong Jingzhou, had hinted to Zong Chi during Mid-Autumn Festival, “Xu Xize seems to really look out for his ‘sister.’”
Zong Chi had only sneered then, and still did now.
Chen Xiangyang, sensing the tension, tried again, “Xu Family’s parents live in the countryside, right?”
“No such thing,” came the sharp reply from the man on the sofa.
He grabbed a bottle of sparkling water, twisted the cap, and drank half of it in one go.
He spoke without looking at them, eyes closed as if resting, hair still damp, bathrobe slightly open at the collar, his voice rough and cool like a water jar doused after being heated for ages.
It didn’t help, but it was better than nothing.
After a while, Zong Chi opened his eyes a bit and harshly corrected, “First, she’d never call anyone in the Xu Family ‘grandmother.’ Second, Xu Xize and his sister aren’t worth her running around for.”
Chen Xiangyang, about to argue, caught Zong Chi’s cold look and wisely shut up.
Tan Zhengjin stepped in to smooth things over, saying he couldn’t reveal patient privacy, but Dongli’s attitude that day was clear.
He’d told Zong Chi immediately, “Whoever’s grandmother it was, she was the one on the operating table. After the surgery, she came right back with me. All her recent contact with me has been about the case—she’s just a professional, nothing more.”
Someone listened without much interest, fiddling with the plush toy at his waist, finally pulling it out and toying with its ear.
Then he stood up, inviting Tan and Chen out for a drink.
Tan Zhengjin said he had surgery the next morning and really had to go.
He’d come this time to thank Zong Chi on behalf of the family, and warmly invited his parents to visit Shanghai for a holiday.
Zong Chi went to change clothes, planning to see Tan Zhengjin off and drag Chen Xiangyang out for a drink.
Downstairs, while waiting for Chen’s driver, Zong Chi accompanied Tan Zhengjin to get his car.
On the way, the two brothers reminisced a bit, and when talking about his parents, Zong Chi replied, “Yeah, my mom said she wants to come back for Spring Festival this year.”
Tan Zhengjin unlocked his car, got in, rolled down the window, and told Zong Chi to hurry back inside.
Outside, Zong Chi stood with hands in his pockets. In the ten-degree weather, he wore only a thin, pale-striped shirt.
He wasn’t in a hurry, watching his guest leave.
Finally, he threw out a non sequitur, “About that Horizontal Research Project funding, contact Chen Xiangyang’s secretary later.”
Tan Zhengjin accepted, but clarified, he hadn’t come here to discuss that.
When it came to business, Zong Chi was always calm and in control.
He spoke coolly, but firmly, “If you don’t bring it up, I will.”
Tan Zhengjin gripped the steering wheel, smiling and blunt, “Just because I helped your ex-girlfriend? Young Master Zong, that’s quite a gesture.”
Some people are just that generous, but not humble at all.
“It’s for your hospital, not for anyone else.”
Tan Zhengjin called him by his full name, “Zong Chi, honestly, even my teacher doesn’t have as much pull as you.”
“Nonsense.”
The young master was as unyielding as ever, coldly urging Tan Zhengjin to leave.
“Believe it or not, I only got the surgeon because of you. If it weren’t for your ex-girlfriend, I wouldn’t have asked her to assist, let alone personally driven her back to the city.”
Zong Chi still refused to accept the favor, saying Tan Zhengjin was just following orders.
“Don’t blame this on me—I don’t accept it.”
Inside the car, Tan Zhengjin got a little anxious, feeling wronged, “I didn’t do it for you—asking around, playing chauffeur, even giving your ex-girlfriend a gift?”
Zong Chi didn’t care for any of that.
All he wanted was one thing, firing back as if this was his real reason for coming down tonight—
“If you really want me to accept the favor, then tell me: what’s your patient’s surname…I need to know, for whom did she humble herself so much to beg for help!”
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