Lalilo’s “Popular Abyssal Species Identification in the Demon Realm”
The business representative in charge of household consumption and daily chemical brands for the Jiada Group’s S City branch came to the hotel for a lunch meeting with Zong Chi.
While waiting for this young boss to get ashore, he happened to make a phone call of moderate length to the big boss over in Singapore.
Zong Jingzhou mentioned his son with a tone full of complaints, saying his son’s phone was “covered in donkey hair,” always unreachable.
Qi Representative chuckled and explained to Zong Jingzhou that Xiao Zong’s secretary was on annual leave this week, and it seemed he still hadn’t gotten used to it.
Zong Jingzhou was clearly dissatisfied with this explanation, saying that since he had approved the employee’s leave with his signature, the company should have arranged a substitute.
Why was the phone not answering and the room’s landline cable unplugged?
What was he trying to do?
He suspected that as soon as his son set foot in that old place, the old bad habits came back with him.
Qi Representative had known Zong Jingzhou for many years and was well-acquainted with the boss’s family affairs.
Occasionally, when the boss returned to China, he would mention his son at the mahjong table or golf course with his old comrades.
If someone wanted to arrange a match for Xiao Zong, the old man would grumble the usual superstitions: “No one should talk about marriage for him. Even daughters from good families couldn’t stand him. Otherwise, why would he have broken up with so many girlfriends over the years? It’s because of his terrible temper. He’s no good at handling rejection either.”
“Men usually hate the girls who dump them. That’s why he never goes back there; he’s still bitter and stubborn. Oh, and one of his past girlfriends was a surgeon.”
Zong Jingzhou had only met his son’s girlfriends once — when he forced Xiao Zong to break up.
Qi Representative rarely saw the boss lose his temper so severely.
That slap in front of him and the secretary was so decisive it almost carried the force of a strike.
Old Zong made Xiao Zong personally escort the girl downstairs, scolding him, “I want to see if there’s any way to get rid of her.”
After the girl left, Zong Jingzhou cleared the air and told his men to tie Zong Chi up and put him on a plane.
Those past days when he refused to let the girl leave, he would be treated the same in return.
From now on, without Zong Jingzhou’s permission, Zong Chi was forbidden from setting foot in S City or coming within 100 meters of Miss He.
Zong Jingzhou told his son, “This is my punishment order. You can try to violate it and see if I, Zong Jingzhou, will kill my own son and whether I’ll pay the price for it. Zong Chi, if you don’t agree, you’ll never get your passport back and never set foot in China again.”
On the other end of the phone, Zong Jingzhou asked Qi Representative, “Who has he seen these days?”
As soon as he finished speaking, someone suddenly surfaced in the swimming pool and then got out.
Qi Representative, well-versed in the boundary between family matters and business, immediately interrupted the call, signaling that Xiao Zong had finished swimming and that they still had business to discuss here.
Zong Jingzhou had no choice but to agree.
Zong Chi met with Qi Representative for a lunch meeting to discuss the consultant group’s proposal. T
he group planned to increase its holdings in Jiada Shares through Mili Sheng Capital, acquiring more shares held by Zong Chi.
During the meeting, Zong Chi listened to Qi Representative speaking Mandarin with one ear, while the consultants on the other end spoke Cantonese with the other ear.
He didn’t eat a single bite the entire time, and after the meal, he even used the dessert as an ashtray, mistakenly tapping ash onto the melted ice cream.
He stared blankly at that dirty, melting ice cream, lost in thought.
After the meal, Qi Representative accompanied him upstairs and joked, “Has it been a long time since you last came here? Not to your taste anymore? If you can’t get used to the food, tell me. Whatever you want to eat, just say the word.”
Zong Chi showed no interest and bluntly said, “When it comes to talking business, even dragon meat wouldn’t taste good. Don’t bother with me.”
Qi Representative laughed, “I remember when you came with Zong Jingzhou, every time at the end, Zong Jingzhou would order a special plate of fried rice just for you. The first time I thought that plate was for all four of us. Turns out, you finished it all by yourself.”
Zong Chi didn’t plan to reward the old employees for their good memories.
Nor did he want to tell them that whenever he ate seriously, it was his solemn respect for the grandest banquet of a Chinese feast.
Since he couldn’t drink to his fill, he would at least eat to his fill.
Only when he was full would they let him leave.
The only banquet in his life that he had eaten from start to finish without boredom was a wedding feast, where the final dessert was deep-fried ice cream.
After leaving the table, Zong Chi answered a call and was deep in thought when suddenly something was stuffed into his mouth.
At first, he thought it was a dumpling shaped like a gold ingot, but after biting it open, there was ice cream inside that hadn’t fully melted yet.
Zong Chi ate somewhat awkwardly.
He Dongli laughed with her eyes crinkled in amusement, claiming she was doing it out of kindness — if he waited to finish his call, the ice cream inside would be completely melted.
“What happens if it melts?”
“You won’t be able to eat it.”
Zong Chi felt that He Dongli sometimes pretended to be cute.
“Is it that important to you that I can’t eat it?”
He Dongli tried to pry open his mouth to take the thing out, but Zong Chi caught her hand under the table, telling her not to fuss.
“If you take it out now, it won’t look good anywhere.”
Yu Xiaohan sent a message to her daughter from across the table, telling them both to behave and reminding them that someone else was getting married, yet they were fighting and causing a scene.
At someone else’s wedding banquet, Zong Chi asked He Dongli, “What did your mom say?”
He Dongli shook her head.
He asked her again, “Isn’t marriage the most foolish social gathering for adults?”
He Dongli’s answer surprised him.
She told him about a short story she read — a comedic shell with a tragic core.
The whole story described the endless ceremonies of a Chinese wedding, but the author repeatedly described the bride looking like a ghost or a corpse.
Zong Chi wanted to refute, “That’s not what I meant. I meant, how foolish do you have to be to want to hold such a wedding with everyone watching you so closely?”
He Dongli then told him she had always disliked such weddings.
Though it seemed like a joyous feast for the couple, only the bride was truly restrained.
Everyone else was full of food and drink, but the bride had to starve, waiting alone in the bridal chamber.
Zong Chi suddenly realized — she didn’t like it.
That night, he stayed at the home of He Dongli’s cousin, He Dongsheng, who had just married.
Despite being cousins, He Dongsheng still cared for He Dongli as if she were a child.
He despised Zong Chi’s young master attitude and even disparaged him behind his back, saying, “He’s more spoiled than you, A Li. You’re going to get hurt like this.”
In the hot summer south wind, He Dongli wore a simple blue nightdress.
After washing up, she smelled of Safeguard soap and floral water, with the insect chorus and lush greenery outside.
She stood with her hands behind her back, savoring the rare leisurely moment under drifting clouds covering the moon, saying that her migraine had cleared up since coming back.
He Dongsheng snorted, still somewhat defending Zong Chi.
He Dongli spoke calmly and clearly, “Yes, distrust those you don’t know, but never doubt those you use.”
He Dongsheng flicked his cigarette butt away, even though he was newlywed, he couldn’t help but pour cold water on A Li.
“Never fully trust a man.”
He Dongli corrected with a sly tone, “You said ‘fully trust,’ not ‘not trust.’ I wouldn’t still be with him if I didn’t trust him. That’s the biggest hypocrisy.”
That night, Zong Chi lay in his private room, expression calm, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
He Dongli came in with a lit mosquito coil and asked, “What’s wrong, young master?”
Hearing such mockery, Zong Chi suddenly jumped up and asked, “What did you talk to your cousin about?”
He Dongli always saw right through him easily.
“Didn’t you hear everything?”
“You think I heard, that’s why I said it,” Zong Chi retorted.
He Dongli placed the mosquito coil on a folded accordion-like cigarette box carton, careful to keep it away from anything flammable in the dry air.
She lazily told him to sleep early since they had to get up early tomorrow.
Zong Chi sat cross-legged on the bed, looking like a spoiled rich kid who expected everything handed to him, and silently asked, “I’m asking you a question.”
He Dongli kept some distance, arms folded, leaning against the desk.
“Whether you heard it or not, I already said it.”
“What did you say?”
“Zong Chi, you’re just a foolish ruler. Always listening to slanderous words like a foolish ruler.”
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