Quitting wasn’t that simple. Su Hao had previously signed an unusual contract. General Manager Zeng asked her into the office and spoke earnestly.

 

It wasn’t just Zeng—Qi Lin was there too. The two bigwigs sat on the sofa, brewing tea while advising her:

 

“You’ve been working here almost a year. Just hold on for another year or two—it’ll pass.”

 

“Yes, your work has been excellent. If you master accounting as well, the finance department will be yours eventually,” Qi Lin added, a mix of praise and temptation, subtly promising her a bright future.

 

“Besides, you were brought in by Mr. Zhou. Leaving suddenly wouldn’t be proper. He’s on a business trip and will be away for a while. Why not reconsider?” Zeng invoked Zhou Yang’s name. Seeing Su Hao’s expression remain unchanged, he immediately fell silent.

 

“Is it about compensation? We can discuss that.” Qi Lin handed her a cup of tea. Su Hao quickly took it.

 

“Thank you, Qi Lin, I’ve got this. Compensation isn’t the issue—I have other plans,” she replied.

 

“Other plans? What are they? Perhaps we can help,” Qi Lin said with a gentle smile. He looked entirely civil, as if any position she wanted could be arranged.

 

Su Hao shook her head. “There’s no path for me to develop here.”

 

“No path? That’s fine—we still have the Zhou Group. Mr. Zhou oversees multiple companies; surely one of them has a role suited to you.” Qi Lin was desperate. Keeping Su Hao from leaving was crucial. Zeng nodded in agreement. With Zhou Yang away on this important trip, they couldn’t let her quit while he was gone—or they’d both be in trouble.

 

Su Hao still shook her head. She sipped her tea lightly before setting the cup down.

 

“You’re making a mistake by leaving now,” Zeng urged, showing her the contract. “Look at this—so much benefit you’d lose! You’ve even become the company’s image representative, something no one else could easily achieve. You’ve done so well just by showing up.”

 

“I don’t know about that. If I leave, someone else can take over,” Su Hao replied. Her tone was calm, not forceful, yet it was like hitting a steel wall. No matter what they said, they couldn’t read her mind. Qi Lin exchanged a glance with Zeng.

 

Zeng frowned.

 

Su Hao had always appeared gentle and virtuous, but no one expected her mind to be so steadfast.

 

It was impressive.

 

She intended to leave immediately—no negotiation, not even regarding compensation. Such determination earned a quiet respect.

 

“Give me a moment; I need to handle something,” Zeng said, putting down the contract and walking out of the office.

 

Left alone with Qi Lin, Su Hao noticed he continued brewing tea. She hesitated, then said softly, “Qi Lin, let me do it.” She reached for the teapot.

 

Qi Lin relented.

 

There was a subtle difference in how women handled tea compared to men. Steam curled around her delicate fingers, white and slender at the wrists, like a painting. Her lowered gaze reminded him of her in a cheongsam—how elegant she would look performing the tea ceremony in such attire. Qi Lin quickly averted his eyes.

 

Zeng returned, finishing his task. Seeing Su Hao pouring tea, he paused, surprised. The presence of the two executives with her created a new sense of atmosphere in the office.

 

They waited. Su Hao’s phone remained silent, though she had finished several cups of tea. Zeng grew anxious, checking her phone frequently. Finally, his own phone rang.

 

He picked it up, surprised, and quickly answered. After a brief conversation, a look of confusion spread across his face. He handed the phone to Su Hao.

 

Su Hao looked at the incoming call.

 

She paused.

 

“Answer it, Su Hao,” Zeng whispered.

 

With both men watching, Su Hao wiped the edge of a napkin and picked up the phone. The back of the phone felt warm. She held it to her ear.

 

“Hello, Mr. Zhou,” she said softly, her voice polite yet distant.

 

The memories of that night flashed abruptly—two bodies pressed together. Zhou Yang winced, frowning, his low voice rumbling:

 

“It’s irrational to leave now. I told you we’re done, but now Qi Lin is managing—you can treat this as a new company. You’ve only got a few months’ experience; leaving Feijie now won’t be easy.”

 

He was looking out for her.

 

Su Hao’s expression softened slightly. “It’s not because of you,” she said.

 

Zhou Yang fell silent.

 

“I have my own plans, which is why I’m leaving,” she continued.

 

“Am I not the trigger?” he asked after a pause.

 

“Kind of,” she admitted, “but not necessarily.”

 

Once again, she was unmoved.

 

There was silence on the other end.

 

A few seconds later, Zhou Yang said quietly: “Give the phone to Zeng Xiao.”

 

Su Hao handed it over. Zeng immediately took it, glancing at her before stepping outside to answer. It was rush hour; the floor was mostly empty, sunlight pouring through the windows. Zeng, pressed against the wall, was slightly out of breath.

 

“Mr. Zhou?”

 

“Do everything you can to keep her.”

 

Zeng cleared his throat. “Su Hao is resolute. She seems gentle, but she has a strong will. I think her mind is made up.”

 

“I don’t want to hear this,” Zhou Yang replied.

 

Zhou’s assistant’s voice interrupted, low and urgent. All communications were about to be cut off—he had no time to waste. The call ended, leaving Zeng stunned.

 

They could only hope Zhou Yang returned soon, so they could try to persuade her.

 

Over the next few days, Zhou Yang was unreachable. Su Hao’s resignation process was difficult. Many in the company knew she intended to leave. Some speculated Qi Lin wanted her to stay. Rumors spread.

 

Zeng had hoped to delay Su Hao until Zhou Yang returned—a trip that would last over a month, roughly aligning with her resignation timeline. But today, Zhou Qinkai arrived.

 

The former CEO.

 

It startled Zeng.

 

“Mr. Zhou, it’s been a while since you visited Feijie. The last time was the year-end two years ago.” Zeng had prepared coffee personally. Zhou Qinkai, dressed in a suit, took a sip. “Yes, it has been some time. I’m surprised to see Feijie develop like this.”

 

Feijie was in the new media industry.

 

When acquired, it was nearly bankrupt. Zhou Qinkai had entrusted it to Zhou Yang, mainly to house relatives and unmovable associates. But Zhou Yang saw potential, opening a branch in another city, developing this headquarters.

 

Now, Feijie had secured a position in the new media market and was expected to go public next year.

 

“Little Zhou is extremely capable. You can rest assured,” Zeng said.

 

“Yes, his methods are even sharper than mine,” Zhou Qinkai replied, pride faintly showing. He set down his cup. “I came today for a matter.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“Su Hao’s resignation—approve it.”

 

Zeng froze, sweat breaking out. “What?”

 

Zhou Qinkai tapped the table. “Didn’t you hear? Su Hao wants to leave. Let her.”

 

Zeng stammered. “But Little Zhou…”

 

“My words aren’t enough?”

 

Zeng: “…No.”

 

Su Hao had such a powerful backing?

 

Zhou Yang—this was brutal.

 

When she exited the elevator, Su Hao saw Tang Rui standing by the door, hands in his pockets, looking at his phone. She paused. The ambiguous gazes around them had already swept over. Tang Yu tapped her shoulder. “Tang Rui’s here again.”

 

Su Hao sighed and walked toward the door.

 

Tang Rui put away his phone, eyes on her. She descended the steps, he followed. “Want to have dinner tonight?” he asked patiently.

 

It was the fifth day he had asked. She had never agreed, yet he kept asking.

 

Previously, they had topics to discuss on WeChat. Now, with him present, there were none. Su Hao stopped and looked back.

 

Tang Rui’s hands were in his pockets. Tall and upright, he exuded the clean, sharp aura of someone who had been in Wall Street for years—no trace of slickness, only occasional worldly eyes. Su Hao said: “Why are you doing this?”

 

“Following my heart,” he replied, lowering his gaze. “These years…”

 

He trailed off, but Su Hao understood. She smiled. “Actually, we’d be better off as friends.”

 

“Why always break this boundary?” Su Hao said, finding men like him somewhat amusing. She tightened her bag and walked toward the street.

 

Tang Rui followed. “Su Hao, are you job hunting? I know some people, I can introduce you.”

 

“No need. I won’t struggle to find work,” she said ahead of him. Her hair tied back, a few strands loose, wearing a suit skirt and small heels, her petite figure eye-catching. He quickened his pace to walk beside her.

 

“Do you have a target?” he asked.

 

Su Hao looked at him.

 

No answer.

 

She headed straight for the underground passage, he followed.

 

When they reached the entrance of Huahui Community, Su Hao began to climb the stairs. Tang Rui suddenly blocked her path, licking his lips as he looked at her.

 

“We can start over.”

 

“This time, I won’t give up on you.”

 

Su Hao smiled. Tang Rui was still refined, at least. Few men could be as domineering as Zhou Yang.

 

“Move aside.”

 

Tang Rui hesitated, then stepped aside.

 

Su Hao walked past him and up the stairs.

 

Men feared attachment—but women did too. Su Hao felt a twinge of nervousness, unsure how to respond.

 

Inside, Cheng Ling carried out dishes, pretending to ask: “He brought you back again?”

 

Su Hao glanced at the kitchen window—it had been pushed aside, where Cheng Ling must have stood watching.

 

She put down her bag and nodded.

 

“All right,” Cheng Ling’s expression softened. Tang Rui’s failure to win Su Hao had eased her heart. Old grudges slowly faded.

 

Su Hao washed her hands, brought the soup to the table, and said: “Tomorrow is my last day at work. The day after, I have an interview.”

 

Cheng Ling nodded. “Okay.”

 

After Zhou Qinkai visited the company, Zeng immediately approved her resignation. HR arranged a replacement cashier, and Su Hao spent the next two days handing over duties. Her online resume had already attracted attention—her strong English skills made foreign trade positions competitive. She had targeted a new company and was ready to try.

 

Cheng Ling had opposed her leaving at first. But seeing Tang Rui succeed, she felt slightly resentful. Su Hao acknowledged this, explaining the benefits of leaving and her future plans—perhaps even starting her own company. Cheng Ling, enticed by this vision, stopped opposing her.

 

At Cangyuan Mountain’s R&D department, Zhou Yang inspected schematics and toyed with a model gun. Nie Kui, in uniform, stood stiffly, twisting Zhou Yang’s wrist. “You seem distracted. What’s on your mind?”

 

Adjusting his wrist, Zhou Yang tapped the redboard a few times, pausing. Gone was the flirtatious charm—only cold hardness remained. His eyes, narrow and unreadable, betrayed his distracted mood. He set down the gun. “Nothing,” he said.

 

“Clearly something’s on your mind,” Nie Kui commented.

 

“Romantic troubles?” Nie Kui asked, standing beside him. “Some of these materials are hard to source—you may need extra effort.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Zhou Yang replied. “Is there merit for the effort?”

 

Nie Kui: “You’re in military tech now, not military honors.”

 

Zhou Yang smirked, eyes narrowing in thought.

 

Assistant Lu brought in coffee. Nie Kui nodded toward Zhou Yang. “What’s up with him?”

 

Lu replied, “Probably thinking about someone.” He wasn’t sure.

 

Four days later, a private jet landed. Zhou Yang and Lu Qi disembarked and boarded, greeted by familiar flight attendants. Lu Qi opened a tablet. Zhou Yang flipped through documents, slowly powering on his phone.

 

Lu Qi first opened WeChat. A message from Zeng Xiao appeared:

 

Zeng Xiao: Lu Qi, tell Mr. Zhou—Su Hao has already left.

 

Lu Qi felt his scalp tingle. Just half a month, and everything had changed? Communications had been cut for only a few days. He handed the tablet to Zhou Yang.

 

Zhou Yang glanced, fingers resting on the documents, then released them. A few seconds later, he took the tablet, scrolling through the company forum instead.

 

Many posts speculated about Su Hao’s departure. One caught his eye:

 

“Gao Lin’s strategist is pursuing Su Hao—were they ever married?”

 

He turned off the tablet, leaning back. His forehead twitched.

 

She left. So what’s the hurry? What’s the fear? Why did his chest ache so much?

 

Lu Qi watched silently, afraid to disturb him. Even the flight attendant bringing coffee tread carefully. Zhou Yang remained intimidating, collar open, eyes closed.

 

The plane landed in Li City. Lu Qi drove the black Hummer, delivering Zhou Yang to Feijie. He adjusted his shirt cuffs, watching the elevator numbers tick upward to the sixteenth floor.

 

He stepped out.

 

“Hello, Mr. Zhou.”

 

Without a word, Zhou Yang walked to the finance office, pausing at Su Hao’s former desk.

 

A new person sat there. Not as capable, not as familiar.

 

“Mr. Zhou?” Lu Mimi brightened upon seeing him.

 

Zhang Xian also rose and called softly, “Mr. Zhou.”

 

Zhou Yang’s narrow eyes swept across them like blades. A few seconds later, he pointed. “All fired.”

 

“And you,” he said, pointing at the newly hired employee.

 

Lu Mimi’s face turned pale.

 

Zhang Xian sank into her chair.

 

The rest were stunned.

 

Zeng ran out, sweating, staggering.

 

“Mr. Zhou, why are you firing me?” Lu Mimi demanded, disbelief in her voice.

 

Zhou Yang’s gaze was cold. “You bullied Su Hao. Don’t have the courage to bear being fired?”

 

“But… how did we bully her…” Lu Mimi protested, stepping forward. Zeng immediately blocked her. “Shut up.”

 

“Mr. Zhou! Explain! Why…” Her voice cracked, and she panicked at being publicly fired.

 

Zhou Yang remained silent, looking down at her.

 

Her words stuck in her throat, as if choked.

 

The farce ended. They escorted Zhou Yang to the conference room. Zeng whispered to Lu Qi, “Did he vent on them?”

 

Lu Qi: “Not exactly. He saw the company forum.”

 

Zeng froze. Understanding dawned. The forum had posts isolating Su Hao, targeting her.

 

After the meeting, night had fallen. They went downstairs to the lobby. Zhou Yang lit a cigarette; Lu Qi drove the car up.

 

Zhou Yang glanced at him, signaling to leave first.

 

Lu Qi obeyed. “I’ll head back, Mr. Zhou.”

 

“Hm.”

 

Zhou Yang didn’t look up, exhaled a smoke ring, the wind lifting his shirt as he played with his phone.

 

Messages from Su Xi appeared:

 

Su Xi: Back? Not going home yet?
Su Xi: Tang Rui has been patiently pursuing Su Hao—Cheng Ling is almost touched. You…
Su Xi: Good thing you didn’t end up with Su Hao.

 

His long fingers pressed a button; the screen went dark. His narrow eyes glinted, the cigarette angled in his mouth.

 

He pocketed the phone, descended the steps, circled, opened the car door. The Hummer reversed, turned, and drove onto the main road. Zhou Yang rubbed his lips.

 

When he realized…

 

The car stopped at Huahui Community entrance. His expression immediately darkened.

 

“Damn.”

 

Crowds bustled. People streamed in and out of the supermarket, lights bright. Night stalls were set up.

 

Zhou Yang glanced around, then extinguished the cigarette, gripping the steering wheel.

 

At that moment, a woman appeared on the sidewalk. Her long hair flowed; she wore a black dress, exposing fair shoulders. She looked down at her phone, the dress cinching her slim waist.

 

She lifted her eyes toward the Huahui entrance, smiling faintly, a dimple forming.

 

Looking down again, her expression was soft, lips curved slightly.

 

Who was she smiling at? Who was she thinking of?

 

Before he could process it, click.

 

Night was as still as water. Zhou Yang opened the car door, walked toward Su Hao, grabbed her hand, and looked into her eyes. Words formed on his lips—but seeing her beautiful eyes, he lost his courage.

 

“Su Hao…”