If It’s Wrong, Then It’s Wrong - Chapter 95
Chapter 95: The Thirty-Fifth Day
Ji Chaozhou had thought he was calm, pretending he hadn’t seen anything, but when he entered the kitchen and found more of the same items hidden there, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He picked up a box, his face expressionless, and returned to the living room.
“Cheng Liu!” Ji Chaozhou said coldly, tossing the box at her. “Don’t put these things in the kitchen.”
The kitchen was for food. How could she put these things here?
Cheng Liu caught the box, glancing at him, trying to defend herself: “They do it in the kitchen all the time. I thought it was a good spot.”
She had carefully researched and chosen each location, ensuring easy access.
CEO Cheng always strived for perfection, even in this.
“They?” Ji Chaozhou asked.
“In the videos,” Cheng Liu clarified.
CEO Cheng was a master of online research. No matter how obscure the information, she could find it, having spent days exploring various genres, from Europe and America to Japan and Korea.
After her in-depth studies, Cheng Liu was now a theoretical expert. All that was left was practice.
Ji Chaozhou, looking at her, completely unfazed, thought of her watching those videos, a flicker of displeasure in his eyes: “Don't watch those things.”
Cheng Liu agreed readily: “I won’t.” She had already watched everything at 3x speed anyway.
Ji Chaozhou’s expression softened slightly. Cheng Liu, having stood up, pulled him towards the dining table.
“I have to go to the company to sign some documents. I might not be back for lunch,” Cheng Liu said, wanting to have breakfast with him.
“Okay,” Ji Chaozhou said.
…
After Cheng Liu left, Ji Chaozhou walked around her villa, making a mental note of the items he wanted to replace before going out to buy them.
He threw everything away, except for the double happiness stickers in the nightstand drawer.
Having done this, Ji Chaozhou, passing by the study, went inside.
Unlike the rest of the villa, the study was a typical office space, everything neat and organized.
He glanced around, not wanting to touch her things, the files clearly work-related.
But there was a new desk and chair, smaller than the others, with a new computer on it. The set looked out of place, especially with the sign on the desk: “Study Materials.”
The seemingly innocuous words seemed strangely suggestive, and Ji Chaozhou immediately thought of Cheng Liu’s handwritten “Romantic Phrase Handbook.”
He walked over to the desk, pulling out the chair, noticing the loose cable connecting the speakers to the computer.
Ji Chaozhou plugged it in, then sat down, turning on the computer.
There was no password. The screen lit up, revealing a clean desktop, only one folder labeled “Study Materials.”
Ji Chaozhou clicked on it. Inside were two subfolders: “Europe/America” and “Japan/Korea.”
Were these Shenyin research materials?
Ji Chaozhou hesitated, not wanting to look at confidential company files.
But a nagging feeling made him click on the “Europe/America” folder.
A list of subfolders appeared: “Kitchen,” “Living Room,” “Balcony…”
All locations.
Ji Chaozhou, now sensing something was amiss, but still clinging to a sliver of hope, clicked on the “Kitchen” folder, and a list of video files appeared.
The images that flashed across the screen made him instinctively look away.
“… ”
He shouldn't have expected anything less.
After a long pause, Ji Chaozhou turned back, his hand moving to the mouse, clicking on the first video. He simply wanted to see what she was doing in the kitchen.
But there was something he had forgotten.
As soon as he clicked on the video, the study was filled with the unmistakable sounds of…intimacy, loud and clear.
Ji Chaozhou quickly paused the video, looking down at the speakers he had just plugged in. …Cheng Liu always had a reason for everything.
Ji Chaozhou, his face expressionless, unplugged the speakers, muted the computer, then resumed the video.
They weren’t full videos, just clips, edited highlights from other sources. He even found a summary report at the end of the folder.
Ji Chaozhou: “…” Even in this, she couldn’t resist summarizing and analyzing.
He closed the folder, turning off the computer, not bothering with the other location-based folders. He could imagine what they contained.
He hadn’t felt anything while watching the videos, even frowning slightly throughout. But as he left the study, his eyes falling on the items Cheng Liu had hidden, his cheeks and neck flushed crimson.
Ji Chaozhou hurried down the stairs, wanting to return to his own villa, but then he stopped, turning to look at the box on the sofa.
He stood there for a moment, then went back, picking up the box and returning it to the kitchen.
…
Meanwhile, at Shenyin Technology, Cheng Liu, completely oblivious to Ji Chaozhou having discovered her “study materials,” was reviewing documents.
“You’re from Assistant He’s team?” Cheng Liu asked, flipping through the pages. “Good work.”
“No, Chief Assistant He prepared these. We just printed and delivered them,” the employee said quickly.
Cheng Liu signed the documents, handing them back. “I see. You can go now.”
Once the employee left, Cheng Liu, after a moment’s thought, took out her phone and called He Bai.
“Senior,” He Bai answered immediately.
“How’s your foot?” Cheng Liu asked, walking over to the window, looking out. She used to enjoy standing at heights, looking down, but she hadn’t done so in the past month.
“It’s better,” He Bai said, pleased she had called. But remembering what had happened, he fell silent.
“Did you prepare today’s documents?” Cheng Liu asked.
He Bai straightened up, his tone shifting: “CEO Cheng, is there a problem with the documents?” He had almost developed a Pavlovian response, bracing himself for criticism.
“No problem. They’re well-organized,” Cheng Liu said. “Two years ago, I gave you a team to help with your workload. Why are you still handling these things yourself?”
As Shenyin had grown, Cheng Liu’s workload had increased exponentially. She had too much to handle alone, even with He Bai’s assistance. So, she had instructed him to create a team to delegate some of the tasks.
“I…I had some free time at home,” He Bai said, looking down, his jaw tightening. “So I just…took care of it.”
“You’re the chief assistant. You should delegate these tasks. Especially now, while you’re recovering from your injury, there’s no need to handle these trivial matters. Are you paying your team to do nothing?” Cheng Liu paused, then added, “He Bai, you won’t always be my chief assistant.”
“Why can't I always be your chief assistant?” He Bai asked, a stubborn note in his voice.
Cheng Liu turned away from the window, walking back to her desk: “Even if you want to, your parents and sister won't allow it.”
He Bai’s father had called her several times, subtly pressuring her to send He Bai back to take over the family business. Initially, he had wanted her to stop He Bai from working for her, but after Shenyin’s success, he had changed his tune, saying He Bai could learn from her for a while.
He Bai didn't know about those calls. Cheng Liu had never mentioned them.
“Are you…firing me?” He Bai asked, his voice trembling, gripping his phone so tightly he almost stood up.
Cheng Liu sighed: “I just said you wouldn’t always be my chief assistant. I didn't say I was firing you.”
He Bai, having worked with her for years, quickly understood: “Then…are you transferring me?”
“It’s a waste of your talent to just be a chief assistant,” Cheng Liu said, twirling a pen on her desk. “I’d like you to lead another team.”
She had never taken He Bai’s father’s words to heart. He Bai’s choices were his own.
As long as he wanted to stay at Shenyin, and as long as he didn’t make any major mistakes, she wouldn’t fire him.
“I’ll…do as you say, CEO Cheng,” He Bai said, his voice hoarse, after a long silence.
“Focus on recovering. We’ll discuss the transfer when you’re back,” Cheng Liu said, hanging up.
He Bai slowly lowered his hand, looking up at the ceiling, feeling a sense of relief. His family had always wanted him to learn from Cheng Liu for a few years, then return to take over the family business. But He Bai wasn’t interested. He preferred working at Shenyin.
Here, he felt valued.
The chief assistant position was easily replaceable. Cheng Liu’s decision to transfer him meant that as long as he performed well, he would truly be a part of Shenyin.
The sadness from his unrequited love was replaced by a surge of ambition.
He Bai, pushing his wheelchair, circled his room excitedly, unable to calm down, and unable to share it with his family. He suddenly remembered the guru. He had transferred one hundred thousand yuan last time, and the guru hadn't returned it, so he assumed he could vent to him.
Client #7: [Master, I’m being transferred. If I do well, I’ll have a real position in the company.]
Client #7: [But…I won’t be able to see her every day.]
Wang Hongyang, woken by the notification, seeing He Bai’s message, couldn't understand: [What’s the point of seeing her every day if she doesn’t like you?]
Client #7: […]
Guru: [But congratulations. Securing a position at Shenyin is quite an achievement.]
He Bai frowned: [How did you know I work at Shenyin?]
Comments
Post a Comment