Facade of Love

Chi Wenchen had recently won the IWA Project Innovation Award, and at the ceremony, she met an investor. Sharp-eyed and perceptive, the investor was keen to recommend her for a new investment project. She had been with the company for four years but had only climbed to a minor leadership role. Earlier, her direct supervisor had quietly hinted that a director position was about to open up in the planning department. After eight rounds of interviews and layer after layer of screening, she and four other candidates were narrowed down—and the chairman ultimately chose her. But due to a mistake of her own, not only was the promotion lost, the company also filed a claim against her. People in the industry seemed to tacitly agree to keep their distance. Finally, thanks to the award she’d applied for a year earlier, she got to know this investor who had just returned from abroad. The two sat and chatted for a while. The investor, pretending to be mysterious, said,“ The big boss will be joining us later—I'll introduce you. He’s an old classmate of mine.” Chi Wenchen smiled slightly and nodded, then signaled the server to add an order of sweet and sour mandarin fish to the table. The dish was far from delicious, but people in this city had a peculiar weakness for it. When she returned to her seat, the investor was chatting lively with the person beside her about high school memories, completely shedding her polished professional image. From behind, she looked like a refined college student laughing with her model boyfriend. But from the front, both Hang Yuanqing and Chi Wenchen were startled, letting out simultaneous sounds of disgust. The laughter nearby cut off abruptly. “You know each other? That should make working together even smoother,” the investor said, nudging Hang Yuanqing’s hand with her elbow. He took a step back, picked up his fork, and tried a piece of yogurt baguette, exclaiming, “This is delicious.” “We don’t know each other,” Chi Wenchen said, spearing a piece of steak. It tasted sweet and sour—she admitted that even after eight years here, the local savory-sweet flavor still caught her off guard. She blinked unnaturally, almost like a wink. Hang Yuanqing sat across from her, coolly watching as she downed three glasses of ice water in a row. “You’ve really gone out of your way to join us for local food,” he remarked flatly, without much emotion. Chi Wenchen glanced at the investor, who didn’t seem displeased but was subtly tugging at the sleeve of the person next to her and thoughtfully handing him a tissue. Once all the dishes were served, Chi Wenchen seized the moment to speak. “President Yue, I heard you’re planning to build a monitoring station on X Mountain as a key part of the hot spring resort. I did a site survey recently—would you like to take a look…?” The man across from her sneered. “What’s wrong? Couldn’t make it at Mingshui Company, so now you’re trying to fool her, just back from abroad and unaware of things?” The investor flipped through a rather thick proposal, ears tuned to their less-than-friendly exchange. “True,” Chi Wenchen replied, “but I’m still a little better off than President Hang. At least I don’t have to wear a mask when I go out.” “Qingqing,” the investor said, pointing to a line in the proposal. Both the man and woman at the table turned at the address. “President Tan… Yue, what is it?” Tan Yue pulled his arm over to show him. “The waterway design here is quite good.” He stiffened, instinctively glancing at Chi Wenchen before shifting his chair slightly closer to Tan Yue. Meanwhile, Chi Wenchen had picked up two thin-skinned soup dumplings and hurriedly stuffed them into her mouth. Scorched by the hot broth, she reached for her ice water only to find the glass empty. Pretending to wipe her mouth, she suffered silently, her tongue feeling like it was peeling from the burn. Hang Yuanqing poured what was left in his glass into hers, adding politely, “Don’t worry—it’s from my glass.” Her tongue numb from the heat, she reluctantly took a large gulp. A faint but unmistakable smile tugged at Hang Yuanqing’s lips as he focused on the proposal. “So, what do you think? Wenchen really is an expert. Don’t underestimate her because she’s young—this design avoids a lot of trouble.” As she spoke, she laughed and leaned against Hang Yuanqing’s shoulder. “Wenchen, how are you so good at this?” Chi Wenchen offered a wry smile. “Probably because I’ve done similar projects before. Let’s just call it… luck.” The man across from her fell silent for more than ten seconds before speaking again. “It really is quite good. Name your price, Miss Chi.” “What do you mean?” “Our company can buy this proposal.” Chi Wenchen hadn’t planned to rely on him for a comeback. He was the one who had cost her her job—how could he possibly let her take the lead on a project at his company now? But after sending her résumé to countless firms in the same industry, all she got were rejections or offers for marginal roles. This project was likely her last chance. She was even willing to work with the person who had ruined her career—so why… why couldn’t he do the same? “Miss Chi, why are you looking at me like that? I just don’t want to put you in the awkward position of working with me.” He emphasized the last two words. “Miss Chi, I’m sorry. Yuanqing has always been very thorough in his considerations—I trust his judgment,” the investor said, looking regretful but gazing firmly, almost tenderly, at the man beside her. Any man would find it hard to resist such a look. Chi Wenchen had thought this opportunity was practically in the bag. Watching the two of them play off each other, she grew furious, completely forgetting how earnestly she had sought this meeting. Her expression shifted, her lips tightening slightly. “Miss Tan, you know President Hang so well—are you trying to steal him away? I heard he’s been married for years.” Tan Yue feigned surprise. “Yuanqing, you never told me! Otherwise I would’ve come back from abroad to congratulate you—I’d have loved to meet the bride.” “Miss Chi, that’s none of your business, is it? And why assume the worst? We’ve been friends for over ten years—if we were going to be together, it would’ve happened long ago. I did hear rumors that they might be divorced, but I don’t think I need to explain that to an outsider.” Hang Yuanqing coughed sharply. Tan Yue immediately fell silent. Chi Wenchen stared at the half-empty glass, her fist clenched so tight it seemed ready to shatter the crystal. Hang Yuanqing’s hair today was casual, simply washed and falling smooth and soft. When she threw the water, it clung instantly to his forehead. His eyelashes were long, so even with droplets dripping down, his vision remained completely clear. After splashing him, Chi Wenchen appeared calm, even picking up a piece of the sweet and sour mandarin fish farthest from her. Hang Yuanqing grabbed her wrist and guided the food to his own mouth. “Consider it your apology.” Having dealt with him, she turned to the beautiful woman now making moves to leave. She showed her empty glass as if to prove her harmlessness. “Miss Tan, you held his arm three times, ‘accidentally’ touched his hand five times, and deliberately leaned against him once. I thought we had a deal, so I didn’t mind you enjoying those little perks. But since there’s no chance of cooperation now, don’t blame me for being blunt: he’s mine. No matter what you think or do, save your energy. If you’re lonely, I can introduce you to a few male models. Oh, and just to clarify—we’re not divorced. Maybe spend less time on gossip and more on something meaningful.”