Chapter 19 Day Eight
The Dayun research team stayed in Shenjiang for a week.
The car Song Xu assigned to them proved highly useful.
The driver mentioned driving them around all over the place these past few days, even going as far as Zhou City.
Zhou City is a prefecture-level city under Shenjiang’s jurisdiction, similar to Xixiang but with a smaller area. Because it’s very close to Shenjiang, resources and development have largely funneled toward Shenjiang, leaving its own GDP consistently low.
Over the past few years, rumors have circulated about merging Zhou City into Shenjiang to create a new district.
"Zhou City?"
Wen Bairan didn’t have a strong impression of the place but vaguely remembered a plot of land in Shenjiang’s outer suburbs near Zhou City. Earlier this year, it was acquired by Shenjiang City Investment for development into a luxury residential project, expected to house mostly ultra-high-income individuals. Within a five-kilometer radius, plans included a top-tier commercial district and a K-9 branch of Shenjiang Experimental School.
If memory served, they were in talks with Shenjiang University Hospital to meet healthcare needs, but due to funding and location issues, the two parties were still negotiating.
"Is Dayun interested in that area?"
In the conference room, Song Xu propped his chin with one hand, his index finger pressed against his temple, his expression unreadable, his dark gaze unreadable.
Seeing him silent, the others didn’t dare speak either, shifting uneasy looks.
Wen Bairan, unaware she had said too much, flipped through the materials gathered over the past few days. One piece of gossip about Dayun caught her eye.
Could it be...
"Does anyone know about proton therapy?"
Song Xu’s question broke the silence.
He addressed everyone, his gaze sweeping across the room. The conference room fell pin-drop silent.
None of the eight people present dared to meet his eyes.
His narrowed eyes cooled slightly as they gazed toward the second seat to his left.
He called out, "Vivi."
Wen Bairan blinked, lifting her eyes from the documents. The man at the head of the table was watching her with an inscrutable expression.
Her mouth felt dry for a moment, and she instinctively wet her lips before honestly sharing her thoughts: "Proton therapy is currently the most advanced and expensive radiotherapy method for cancer tumors internationally. Clinical data shows its treatment effectiveness far surpasses traditional radiotherapy. However, due to current technological limitations, the requirements for equipment, operators, and even patient selection are extremely stringent. Coupled with the high operational costs, it’s simply unaffordable for the average person. Simply put, tech advances help everyone, but this technology is still a long way from being broadly available."
At the end, her eyes darted as if she had more to say.
But she chose not to continue.
The conference room remained so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Song Xu rarely showed satisfaction or dissatisfaction at work. In his eyes, everyone was a machine, differentiated only by speed and accuracy. But clearly, with all other machines failing, Wen Bairan’s performance was a welcome relief.
"Come to my office after the meeting."
The nights had been too long, making the daytime Song Xu feel somewhat unfamiliar to Wen Bairan.
She couldn’t quite grasp the meaning behind his mild tone and hesitated.
He coolly shifted his gaze, lightly flipping the page with his black Montblanc pen, moving on to the next agenda item.
It was Friday.
Foreign companies didn’t have an overtime culture. Even if the project team had been busy and under pressure all week, as long as there were no urgent tasks, everyone dispersed quickly as soon as the end of the day arrived.
When almost everyone around had left, Wen Bairan slowly stood up, lingered briefly, and knocked on Song Xu’s office door.
"President Song."
"Come in."
Song Xu was getting ready to head out.
Pushing the door open, Wen Bairan saw him take his coat from the hanger and drape it over his arm. The laptop bag on the desk was carried as easily as a book in his hand.
She was surprised.
"You’re leaving?"
The man glanced over. "Obviously."
"Didn’t you have something to discuss with me?" Remembering her last experience in his office, Wen Bairan left the door wide open this time. Colleagues were still packing up in the office area behind her, the open connecting space feeling expansive and safe.
Song Xu ignored her childish precaution, glancing down at his wristwatch. "I said after the meeting. You’re late."
"..."
Wen Bairan felt she was in the wrong and explained guiltily, "I had a few things to wrap up."
But he clearly didn’t care.
She blinked. "What did you need, President Song?"
Song Xu said, "We’ll talk next week."
"..."
So it really was business.
Wen Bairan felt a pang of guilt for her own petty suspicions.
He seemed to be in a rush, his movements out of the office somewhat rushed.
She watched him until he reached the entrance.
Song Xu was tall, nearly 190 cm. His figure looked lean but broad-shouldered, his steps taken with a habit of engaging his glutes as he moved.
Hmm, who said only women could have a sexy figure?
He wasn’t bad either.
Someone like him, whose very silhouette exuded sophistication and refinement, seemed tailor-made for shirts and suit pants. His long, straight legs, muscles flexing faintly with effort, were fully encased in black trousers, highlighting his poise and control.
The imagination of his restraint seemed to reveal its true face only at night. Stripped of his polished facade, the jarringly intense side of him was enough to make one’s mouth dry just at the thought.
Wen Bairan felt herself getting ahead of herself, fantasizing in broad daylight.
Probably because she’d been with him the past few nights, her body had gotten used to it, and so had her mind.
She forced herself to collect herself, latching onto a stray idea—wondering if he had plans with someone today. Aside from client meetings, Song Xu was almost always the last to leave the company. His rush to leave today suggested this person was very important to him.
Having calmed down a bit, Wen Bairan licked her dry lips. Just before she withdrew her gaze, the man not far away suddenly stopped, turned around, and started heading her way.
As if he had forgotten something, Song Xu walked straight toward the office and stopped in front of her.
Not expecting him to suddenly return, Wen Bairan froze in place, without even a moment to collect herself.
"...Mr. Song?"
Colleagues were still passing by nearby. Her eyes flickered slightly as she tilted her head just enough, showing only a calm profile.
Song Xu acted oblivious to her discomfort, his tone casual as he asked, "Are you free this weekend?"
She caught her breath.
Beneath his deep eyelids, a glint in his eyes was hard to read.
Was he inviting her?
No, probably not.
There was no need for such advance notice between them. When the urge hit them, a message, a phone call, or a glance was enough.
But at this moment, there was nothing ambiguous in Song Xu's eyes.
So Wen Bairan kept her cool. "That depends."
The research team's itinerary ended today, and the rest of the weekend was free time.
Zhong Yu had given the driver time off and specifically invited Song Xu to show her around Shenjiang, wanting to buy some souvenirs to take back.
Given her clout, he couldn’t afford to offend her, both professionally and personally.
Song Xu excused himself by saying he was swamped with work but suggested someone else accompany her instead.
Because of Wen Bairan’s savvy move at the dinner, Zhong Yu had a rather good impression of her and said it would be fine if she came along, as long as Song Xu would take them out to dinner that evening.
Song Xu didn’t agree immediately; he checked with her first.
Wen Bairan figured immediately that the souvenirs Zhong Yu wanted probably couldn’t be bought elsewhere, and asking her to come was just a way to fish for more information from her. As for Song Xu’s dense act, it was almost certainly intentional. Clearly, he wasn’t into her.
Song Xu’s intention was to not pressure her—to keep it professional. Even if she worked overtime on the weekend, she’d get extra pay as compensation.
If she remembered correctly, this would be the first weekend alone she’d spend since their breakup. Rather than letting herself get lost in her thoughts with too much free time, it was better to find something to do.
Of course, getting paid overtime was a bonus.
Who wouldn’t want to go shopping with someone else footing the bill?
Wen Bairan agreed right away.
The next day, she drove the car Song Xu had let her use, picked up Zhong Yu from the Intercontinental Hotel, and headed straight to Zhongzhan.
Zhongzhan Plaza was the largest shopping center in Shenjiang, filled with luxury stores big and small.
Zhong Yu seemed right at home here. After one round of shopping, Wen Bairan’s arms were loaded.
Her ten fingers were swollen from the weight of the shopping bags, the tips completely numb.
Seeing that Zhong Yu wasn’t done yet, Wen Bairan suggested they store the items at the concierge first.
It was as if Zhong Yu only then remembered that Wen Bairan was also a person with feelings, not just a bag-carrying machine. She quickly apologized with a smile, took some of the bags to help out, and kindly looped an arm through hers, saying they were done shopping. She would buy one last thing and then treat her to coffee. It was about time, so they could wait at the café for Song Xu to pick them up.
Wen Bairan thought, *Then let’s make it quick.*
The elevator descended to the first floor, where the Hermès signage took up almost a third of the entrance hall.
They went in. Zhong Yu went to browse, while Wen Bairan spotted a velvet sofa nearby and felt like seeing an old friend.
She hurried over, finally able to sit down and take a breather.
A courteous salesman brought her a drink and some candy. She had barely taken two sips when she heard Zhong Yu bombarding her with questions: “How about this tie? What do you think of that shirt? And those cufflinks over there look pretty good too.”
Wen Bairan hadn’t been wrong—Zhong Yu’s intentions toward Song Xu were painfully obvious.
Too exhausted to move, her eyes drifted toward the display counter at the tie clips. Her mind flashed to that silver-blue subtly patterned tie, and she had a feeling they would match perfectly.
Such restrained accessories suited Song Xu’s polished daytime vibe perfectly. It seemed the more restrained he was during the day, the more completely he unleashed himself at night.
“How about...”
She was about to suggest Zhong Yu take a look at the one near her when she faintly heard a familiar male voice behind her.
“You go ahead and browse. I’m going to rest for a bit.”
Zhou Lin’s lazy, slurred voice was slightly hoarse, as if he hadn’t slept well again. His heavy nasal tone and weariness amplified his playboy vibes.
The rest area in the store was small, with two C-shaped sofas placed end to end. Without even looking, he chose the empty one, slumping across it with his long legs spread wide. His casually outstretched arm rested on the back of the sofa, his hand almost touching the neighboring one.
Wen Bairan’s back stiffened; she could almost feel his fingertips grazing the folds of her clothes.
The sensation was like someone lifting her by the hair, from the nape of her neck down to the last vertebra of her tailbone—a fine, prickling numbness instantly spreading throughout her body.
She didn’t turn around, didn’t move at all.
She let Zhou Lin’s high-end cologne dominate all the air around her.
The next second, a soft female voice nestled close to him.
“Are you tired? Let’s go back then. I bought a lot of groceries yesterday—perfect for making your favorite honey chicken at your place. If it gets too late, I might... not go back to the dorm tonight.”
Wen Bairan hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but they were too close.
The girl’s voice was light and delicate, shrinking to a whisper by the end out of shyness. Her tone was full of admiration and a longing that was heartbreaking.
Wen Bairan thought of the newcomer Ke Shumin had mentioned.
This was probably her.
Su Yi was still a junior in college, not at any prestigious university, but her school had plenty of rules. The dormitory locked at 10 p.m., and unless she requested leave to stay out, missing curfew would count as an absence. Zhou Lin couldn’t remember if his university days had been this troublesome—maybe they were, but rules had never mattered to him.
No one could control Young Master Zhou.
“Oh, then just hurry up,” Zhou Lin said lazily, yawning as if he couldn’t wake up properly. “Want me to take you back?”
Su Yi paused, unsure if he was serious or not.
Everyone said Zhou Lin had plenty of romantic experience. Though their time together had been short, when things were good, he could really make her feel on top of the world, and he never held back when spending money on her. She had never been with anyone better than him and was determined to give herself to him, yet whenever it came to such moments, he would play dumb.
Once or twice was fine—she convinced herself he was just respecting her.
But her roommates in the dorm insisted that on the very day they became official, they’d go book a hotel room and came back to tell her that all men have desires—not sleeping together just means he doesn’t like you enough or doesn’t want to touch you.
Su Yi bought into this. Her eyes welled up, and she bit her lip as she asked him, "Lin, you don’t like me, do you?"
Zhou Lin had zero patience.
A woman’s tears were a hassle to him, not something pitiful that turned him on.
He gave her a half-hearted hug, patting her waist. "Stop overthinking for no reason, okay? I’m really tired. Look at my eyes—they’re practically shut. Fine, isn’t it our one-week anniversary coming up? Go pick out a gift—it’s on me."
Su Yi was still upset, but she knew when to back off.
Before his patience ran out, she reluctantly got up, holding onto his hand unwillingly. "Come help me choose."
Zhou Lin slipped his hand out of hers, his casual tone brooked no argument. "Go on."
Su Yi pouted, a little annoyed again.
Zhou Lin signaled for the salesperson to come over, but his arm froze mid-motion. His dark eyes widened in disbelief as he looked to his left.
Just an arm’s length away, on the sofa, a woman sat ramrod straight, her pale profile so breathtaking it stole the air from his lungs.
His throat went bone-dry—he couldn’t make a sound.
"Ran..."
A storm of emotions churned in his chest, rising like a sickly-sweet taste, stuck in his throat.
Neither rising nor falling.
Wen Bairan acted like she hadn’t noticed him at all.
Calmly, she answered her constantly vibrating phone.
Song Xu’s voice came through the receiver, unusually mellow.
"Finished shopping?"
"Yeah, almost."
"I’m coming up now."
Wen Bairan ignored the intense discomfort prickling her back and replied calmly, "Okay."
The call lasted less than five seconds.
She could sense Zhou Lin had snapped out of his shock.
Only four words flashed through her mind:
Talk about bad luck.