Li Xiu’s arrival immediately gave the company gossip mill fresh fuel.
The large group chat kept buzzing nonstop. Su Hao muted it, but she could still see message after message flooding in.

 

“Miss Li is here—oh my god, she’s still gorgeous.”
“Yeah, and she changed cars again. Rich people really act like cars are free.”
“What did she switch to? Let me see… Audi?”
“No matter what it is, we can’t afford it. But how long has she been in President Zhou’s office?”
“They must be together now, right…?”

 

That last message came from Lu Mimi. The tone was tentative.

 

Just then, the sharp clicking of high heels echoed down the hallway. Moments later, the tall, elegant Li Xiu walked past. Without slowing, she tossed a bag—fever medicine still inside—into the trash can.

 

The only trash can in the corridor.

 

She disappeared into the elevator almost immediately. A few people secretly turned their heads to look. From a distance, Li Xiu’s expression didn’t look good at all.

 

When the elevator doors closed, a wave of murmurs rippled through the office.

 

“Holy crap,” Lu Mimi muttered, standing up to check.

 

The fever medicine—and the coffee—hadn’t been accepted.

 

The group chat lit up again.

 

“President Zhou didn’t take the fever medicine.”
“Did they have a fight?”
“Or maybe we’re all wrong. Maybe they’re not together at all? Could it be that President Zhou has someone else in his heart?”

 

Su Hao ignored all of it and focused on her work.

 

More than ten minutes later, President Zeng’s assistant returned from outside, turned into the finance office, and casually placed a small bag on Su Hao’s desk.

 

“Su Hao, can you help deliver this to President Zhou? President Zeng and I are heading out.”

 

Su Hao froze.

 

She glanced at the bag.

 

A pharmacy logo. Fever medicine.

 

She fell silent for a second, then pushed the bag away slightly.
“I don’t have time—”

 

Before she could finish, the assistant had already left—and quickly at that. Su Hao turned her head and saw President Zeng walking away with documents in one hand and his phone in the other.

 

The finance office fell quiet.

 

Lu Mimi stared intensely at the bag of fever medicine.

 

Zhang Xian hesitated, then said, “Su Hao, since President Zeng’s assistant asked you…”

 

“Senior Zhang, I still have a lot of work to do,” Su Hao said, cutting in.

 

Before she could finish speaking—

 

“I’ll take it,” Lu Mimi said, grabbing the bag.

 

Without waiting for Su Hao to react, Lu Mimi turned on her heels and left. As she walked out, she glanced at the trash can in the hallway. The lid was tightly closed—good design—but she could still picture exactly where that earlier bag of medicine had landed.

 

At the CEO’s office, Lu Mimi didn’t have Li Xiu’s status. She didn’t dare push the door open and instead knocked lightly.

 

Knock. Knock.

 

A hoarse, low male voice came from inside.
“Come in.”

 

Lu Mimi took a deep breath, turned the handle, and walked in.

 

At first glance, she saw Zhou Yang sitting behind the desk, one hand propped against his forehead, a cigarette between his lips, his collar loosely open.

 

He lifted his eyes.

 

When he saw it was Lu Mimi, his gaze cooled instantly.

 

“What is it?”

 

Then his eyes dropped to the bag in her hand. They narrowed.

 

“You’re here to deliver fever medicine?”
“Did Su Hao send you?”

 

It was the first time Lu Mimi had seen this side of Zhou Yang—cold, distant, nothing like his usual charming, easygoing self. She froze in place.

 

After a long moment, she nodded stiffly.
“Y-yes.”

 

“Get out. I don’t need it.”

 

Zhou Yang removed the cigarette from his mouth, stubbed it out in the ashtray, stood up, and grabbed his coat from the rack. As he put it on, he walked toward the door.

 

Lu Mimi hurried to open it, but he was faster. The coat settled on his shoulders, collar still open, that familiar air of roguish charm returning.

 

Lu Mimi caught her breath.

 

She watched his tall figure walk toward the elevator. His neck was flushed red—his fever must have been severe.

 

Why wouldn’t he take the medicine?

 

Distracted, Lu Mimi returned to the finance office.

 

The bag of fever medicine landed back on Su Hao’s desk.

 

Su Hao, busy with her work, glanced over at the sound and only then remembered what it was.

 

Before she could say anything, Lu Mimi spoke.
“President Zhou won’t take it.”

 

Zhang Xian stood up and walked over, curious. She picked up the bag and examined it.

 

“Why does everyone keep bringing him medicine, and he won’t take any of it? What’s going on?”

 

“He looks really sick,” Lu Mimi said, still shaken. “But his mood today was awful. His face was icy. It scared me.”

 

Zhang Xian thought for a moment.
“That is strange. President Zhou rarely gets this emotional.”

 

“Right? I wonder who pissed him off.”

 

“He didn’t want Miss Li’s medicine, didn’t want President Zeng’s either—so whose would he accept?” Lu Mimi paused, then suddenly thought of something. “Could he be waiting for someone specific to bring it?”

 

Zhang Xian laughed softly, her expression gentler.
“Are you scared silly? Who do you think could make President Zhou that emotional—so much so he’d ignore his own health?”

 

“…I’m overthinking it,” Lu Mimi said, touching up her makeup in a compact mirror.
“Someone like President Zhou—this kind of thing would never happen to him. Women fall apart for him. He’s always the one controlling others.”

 

Zhang Xian put the bag into the small box in front of Su Hao.
“Let’s just leave it there.”

 

Su Hao acknowledged quietly and returned to her computer, reconciling several new entries.

 

Just then, her phone buzzed—twice.

 

She glanced at it.

 

President Zeng:
Su Hao, did you deliver the medicine to President Zhou?

 

Zhou Yang:
Su Hao, is your heart made of iron?

 

Thanks to Su Hao’s efficiency, she finished all her work by quitting time.
Her first day taking over Chen Yu’s position—and she didn’t even need overtime.

 

She packed up, rubbed her neck, and got ready to leave.

 

Zhang Xian looked up, surprised.
“You’re done already?”

 

Su Hao nodded.
“Yes.”

 

Zhang Xian glanced at her desk in disbelief.
“Still double-check everything. Don’t end up like Chen Yu.”

 

“I will, Senior Zhang.”

 

After pulling the curtains closed, Su Hao left the office.

 

Zhang Xian watched her go, then shook her head.

 

Lu Mimi came back from washing her hands and was startled to see Su Hao gone.

 

“So early?” she scoffed. “Everything’s done already?”

 

“It took Chen Yu over a week just to get up to speed.”

 

Lu Mimi picked up her bag.
“Senior Zhang, I bet President Zeng will scold us again tomorrow.”

 

Zhang Xian said nothing. She told her to pull the curtains closed, and the two left together.

 

---

 

Outside, the sky had been overcast all day. By evening, the clouds had darkened even more, heavy and oppressive, like rain could fall at any moment.

 

Su Hao quickened her pace. She barely made it home before thunder cracked overhead—and then the rain came pouring down.

 

Inside, she put down her bag and closed the kitchen and bathroom windows. Though it was still early, the sky looked like night.

 

She cooked a simple dinner, ate, then remembered Su Qian’s invitation.

 

Sitting on the sofa, phone in hand, she hesitated.

 

Finally, she dialed.

 

The call connected quickly.

 

“Haohua, have you eaten?” Su Qian’s warm voice came through.

 

“Yes. Have you, Auntie?”

 

“I have. It’s raining heavily today. By the way—were you very busy? You didn’t reply to my messages.”

 

Su Qian’s voice carried a gentle smile—she sounded genuinely happy to hear from Su Hao, which made Su Hao’s refusal stick in her throat.

 

She stared at the ceiling light.

 

After a few seconds, she steeled herself.

 

“Auntie… I’m sorry. I might have to work overtime on Wednesday. I won’t be able to come.”

 

“What? Overtime again?” Su Qian sighed. “Why so busy?”

 

Su Hao felt guilty.

 

She wanted to visit the Zhou family less. To see Zhou Yang less.
If enough time passed, his patience would run out, and he’d stop wasting time on her.

 

When it came to the future, Su Hao was firm—at this age, reason had to come before emotion.

 

“Yes… I just took over new work. I’m still adjusting,” she said stiffly, already planning to make a big box of boneless chicken feet as an apology.

 

“Well, that can’t be helped. Work is important.”
Su Qian sounded disappointed—and sighed again.

 

Su Hao pretended not to hear it.

 

She changed the subject. Su Qian’s mood gradually lifted, and after chatting for a while, they hung up.

 

Su Hao exhaled deeply.

 

She was bad at lying. It was exhausting.

 

After sitting quietly for a bit, she picked up a book to read.

 

Just then, her phone buzzed again—WeChat from Shen He.

 

Shen He:
Haohua, I can’t go on that business trip next week either.

 

Su Hao:
That’s okay.

 

Shen He:
Ugh, I’m so disappointed. Things here are crazy busy.

 

Su Hao:
Then maybe I’ll apply to go to Kyoto on a business trip?

 

Shen He:
You’re coming to Kyoto?

 

This month, she still had to travel to two cities—Dong City and Kyoto. She figured she could apply with President Zeng.

 

Su Hao:
Yes. Feijie has a branch in Kyoto.

 

Shen He:
Then I’ll wait for you.

 

Su Hao:
Okay.

 

---

 

Su Qian poured herself a glass of water and went upstairs.

 

Zhou Yang lived in a villa called A Bay of Landscapes. It was her first time there. The minimalist décor felt almost unfamiliar.

 

Upstairs, Su Qian pushed open the master bedroom door.

 

The curtains were drawn.
The man lay on the bed, eyes closed, one hand resting on his forehead.

 

She sat by the bed. His sharp jawline was tense, lips pressed together. If not for the flush at his neck, one wouldn’t even know he had a fever.

 

Even asleep, he looked imposing.

 

After studying her son’s face, she pulled the blanket up for him.

 

Zhou Yang stirred and opened his eyes.

 

“Mom… why are you here?”

 

“What do you think? If Assistant Lu hadn’t told us, we wouldn’t even know you had a fever.”

 

“Tch. Just a minor thing.” He coughed lightly and reached for the water.

 

Su Qian quickly handed it to him.

 

He sat up against the headboard, dressed in black sleepwear, collar slightly open, revealing part of his chest. After a few sips, Su Qian said:

 

“If it’s such a small issue, why do you keep having Su Hao bring you medicine?”

 

Zhou Yang froze mid-sip and looked up at her.

 

Su Qian shrugged.
“Su Hao said she has to work overtime on Wednesday. Tell me—do you think she’s avoiding you, son?”

 

Zhou Yang narrowed his eyes.

 

“Mom,” he said flatly,
“don’t you have anything better to do?”