A general manager and a vice president—Han Qian had always imagined that when high-level executives exchanged barbed words, it would be with the refined elegance he'd seen on television. Yet with Wen Nuan and Yan Qingqing, it seemed to devolve into little more than a street brawl.
That night, Tu Kun was assigned to the guest room on the first floor, her bedding borrowed from the landlady. Han Qian shared a room with Li Jiawei. As he showered, Wen Nuan appeared outside, pounding on the door.
"Open up!"
"No!"
Click!
Wen Nuan wrenched the door open, startling Han Qian into clutching a towel over his most vulnerable parts, his face flushed with both embarrassment and anger.
"Are you some kind of pervert?"
Wen Nuan's cheeks were tinged pink as well, perhaps from the drinks she'd had earlier. Hands on her hips, she glared back at him fiercely.
"You're resigning from Rongyao! I don't want a single penny of what you owe me—I'll even give you forty thousand!"
Han Qian took a deep breath.
"Wen Nuan, what do you think would happen if I dropped this towel?"
She looked at him defiantly. Han Qian let the towel slip—and Wen Nuan shrieked, spinning on her heel and fleeing. Alone in the bathroom, Han Qian laughed heartily, hands on his hips. He hadn't even taken off his underwear!
Resigning was out of the question, and Wen Nuan wouldn't go back on her word. She'd truly never ask for the debt to be repaid, nor would she hesitate to give him money. But was that the kind of life Han Qian wanted? If it had been, he never would have chosen divorce in the first place.
A man needed his pride and his burdens.
Rongyao was a good fit for Han Qian. Yan Qingqing, with her sharp tongue and soft heart, was someone he found genuinely useful.
And beyond that, he wanted to see if he could earn four million in a single year.
Dousing his head in cold water, he forced himself to wake up, though a headache still nagged at him. He had to be in the office by seven the next morning. Women… it was best to keep Wen Nuan and Yan Qingqing as far apart as possible. Damn it—who knew what Lin Zongheng might be scheming? One of these days, he really needed to sit down and have a proper conversation with Guan Junbiao.
Building a rapport with that flashy man would surely have its benefits… even if his flamboyant style was a bit much.
By the time he climbed the stairs, Wen Nuan was already resting. Back in his room, Han Qian discovered his blanket missing—Li Jiawei, all innocent eyes, explained that Auntie had taken it. It seemed she wanted to invite him to sleep in her room. Han Qian wasn't about to argue; he just yanked Li Jiawei's blanket onto his bed.
"We'll sleep together, just us men."
As Han Qian drifted off, Li Jiawei spoke softly.
"Uncle, are you asleep?"
"Out cold."
He was exhausted, with a seven o'clock start looming. Li Jiawei sighed and murmured again,
"Do you think kids without fathers are always looked down on? At school, I'm scared to fight back. If Li Bo's dad comes to find my mom, I don't know what to do. My mom's a woman—I'm just a kid. I could never win in a fight with his dad."
Han Qian rolled over and gave him a light smack on the forehead, frowning.
"What's there to be afraid of? There are plenty of kids without fathers in this world, and they're living just fine. Take Nezha—he had a father, but what good did it do when his dad handed him over to the Dragon King? Having a father or not doesn't matter. What matters is that you keep your head up, study hard, and prove you're even better than those who have everything."
"But Nezha had a master!"
"Nezha didn't have an uncle!"
That made Li Jiawei laugh. He rolled over, wrapping himself snugly in the blanket. Han Qian got up, knocked on Wen Nuan's door, and soon enough, a freshly made blanket was tossed out to him.
At six the next morning, Li Jiawei and Tu Kun were already up, washing and dressing. Han Qian offered to drive them to school, but Li Jiawei shook his head, saying they'd just take a taxi. Before leaving, he gave Han Qian a small fist bump for courage.
With the children gone, Han Qian dressed and headed downstairs. Yan Qingqing, the tempestuous queen, had ordered him to be in the office by seven—if he were late, she'd have an excuse to unleash her fury.
Squeezing onto a crowded bus, Han Qian couldn't fathom why so many grandparents insisted on jostling with kids going to school. Just to save a couple of cents on eggs at the market?
He also wondered, not for the first time, which card—elderly or senior—actually let them ride for free.
By the time he managed to get off the bus, he'd been pushed an extra stop down and ended up bickering with several old-timers. As he stepped off the bus, he shot them a dark glare—he could knock Guan Da Gou down in a fight, but against these elders, he was no match, and that stung his pride.
He bought a jianbing and a cup of soybean milk at a street stand, timing it so he entered the company gates at exactly 6:55. The security guards gave him odd looks—so early? He trudged into the elevator, feeling like the last of his strength had been drained by that bus ride. Just as the doors were about to close, Xiao Yangjia appeared. Han Qian quickly pressed the button to hold the door.
With her face fresh and unadorned, Yangjia breezed into the elevator, snatching the soybean milk from Han Qian's hand and grumbling,
"Brother Qian, could you and President Yan stop your flirty squabbles? The rest of us have to suffer for it—I was home binge-watching dramas and had to come in early just to make sure you showed up."
Han Qian handed her the straw, frowning.
"You're here to spy on me? Where's President Yan?"
"No idea."
When they reached the fourteenth floor, Yangjia went to change clothes. Han Qian stayed in the elevator, riding back down to buy another soybean milk before standing at Rongyao's entrance, finishing his breakfast.
At 7:30, Gao Lüxing arrived at the office. Dressed in an immaculate white suit and sporting silver earrings, he raised an eyebrow in mild surprise upon seeing Han Qian. Offering him a cigarette, he smiled.
"Here so early? That's dedication."
Han Qian tucked the cigarette behind his ear, returning the smile softly.
"President Yan called yesterday, told me to come in early. I've had two days off already—might as well be here rather than sit idle at home."
Gao Lüxing chuckled and shrugged, taking a deep drag on his cigarette before grinning.
"Two days off? You don't look like you've been resting. Boxing practice, or trouble? If it's trouble, tell me—I might be able to help. Can't have Rongyao's prized contributor suffering."
Han Qian rubbed the corner of his eye and gave a wry smile.
"A bit of a conflict—lost my temper and took a swing. Regretting it now. I'll ask Yangjia for a mask so I don't sully Rongyao's image."
"You're still young—that's a good thing."
Gao Lüxing let out a low sigh of envy. Han Qian didn't respond. Wen Nuan and Old Wen had both warned him to be wary of Gao Lüxing, and today, he felt inclined to agree. He was about to head back to the general office to catch some rest when Gao kept the conversation going, clearly in no hurry to go upstairs.
As more employees trickled in, Han Qian's battered, catlike face drew plenty of curious stares. The red BMW arrived, and Sun Ya sauntered in, her tight skirt and swaying hips turning every head. Gao Lüxing's expression turned lecherous, his voice oily with amusement.
"Han Qian, Lin Zongheng's grudge against you is no small thing. If he gives you trouble, come find me anytime."
Han Qian's brow furrowed slightly, but he forced a smile.
"Thank you, President Gao."