Qi Song’s punch came without warning.
***
It struck with such speed and force that anyone untrained would’ve been floored instantly. Zhou Yanxing instinctively tilted his head—his reflexes were fast, but not fast enough. Pain flared across his right cheek like a slap of fire, stars dancing before his eyes.
The legs of the chair screeched harshly against the floor.
Zhou Yanxing let out a cold laugh, seething with rage.
“A sneak attack, huh?”
He hadn’t even gotten to his feet before Qi Song’s second punch followed, his expression glacial. Zhou Yanxing, incensed now, wiped the blood from his mouth, the iron taste igniting a firestorm in his chest.
When it came to fighting, there wasn’t a man on Earth who could take him.
Electronics crashed to the floor in a messy pile. Files flew everywhere, some fluttering midair just in time to obscure their view. Qi Song’s face remained stoic, his aura so cold it felt like it could solidify.
“That punch was for touching my boyfriend without permission.”
Zhou Yanxing rolled up his sleeves and fired back without a word. The two men clashed in a brutal brawl, neither holding back. Surprisingly, Qi Song fought with seasoned skill—not wild like Zhou Yanxing, but clearly trained.
Each punch landed with a sickening thud.
Zhou Yanxing sneered, voice venomous.
“When the hell did he become your boyfriend? You think a self-proclaimed title gives you rights? Don’t take the rest of us for fools.”
He swung again.
“Wasn’t he dating your cousin not too long ago? Why would he suddenly be with you?” Zhou Yanxing spat each word, his contempt razor-sharp. “He’s in love with me now. Whatever you two had before doesn’t mean shit anymore. Besides,” Zhou Yanxing continued, “relationships online don’t count for anything. Just because you’re listed as an in-game couple doesn’t mean it’s real. Chi Zhan only agreed because he’s too soft to say no.”
He wiped the blood from the corner of his lips. It had been years since he’d had such a satisfying fight. Still, despite standing on the so-called moral high ground, an acidic rage simmered in his gut, like venomous fangs injecting poison into his veins.
…No matter how arrogantly he spoke, the truth was undeniable—his “relationship” with Chi Zhan amounted to no more than a one-day fling. Flimsier than a piece of paper.
Chi Zhan was the kind of person who’d never enter even a nominal relationship if he didn’t truly like someone—not even in a game. That, more than anything, was what made Zhou Yanxing feel threatened by Qi Song.
But that—he would never let a rival know.
Chi Zhan had finished reviewing the meeting notes and finalized tomorrow’s schedule, but neither Zhou Yanxing nor Qi Song had come out yet.
Were they… still talking?
Chi Zhan walked toward the conference room and raised his hand to knock—only for the door to swing open just then.
The ever-polished President Zhou, who normally exuded a refined, composed aura—even if not meticulously groomed—looked utterly disheveled. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair a mess, and most conspicuously, the side of his face was swollen.
Noticing Chi Zhan’s gaze, Zhou Yanxing subtly turned to show his uninjured profile.
“What are you doing here?”
Qi Song stood off to the side, a distinct red mark across his cheek.
When he met Chi Zhan’s eyes, he said nothing. He simply lowered his gaze.
And with the conference room in a wreck—chairs overturned, the table askew—it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had just happened.
Chi Zhan’s heart skipped a beat. But he knew this couldn’t be allowed to spread within the company. A fight was one thing—but if rumors started circulating that Seven was feuding with Zhou Rui’s boss, future collaborations would be in jeopardy.
“Both of you, take a break. I’ll handle things here,” Chi Zhan said quietly.
“I should be going,” Qi Song said, tone indifferent.
Zhou Yanxing scoffed, unreadable whether it was mockery or disdain.
“No one’s stopping you.”
Naturally, Chi Zhan couldn’t just let Qi Song leave. The injury on his face was far too conspicuous—it looked painful. If untreated, it could easily get infected.
But when he met Qi Song’s calm, steady eyes, Chi Zhan suddenly found himself at a loss for words.
“Did you see it?” The question slipped out, and the moment it did, he regretted it. If Qi Song answered yes, what was he supposed to say?
But Qi Song didn’t answer. After a pause, he countered, “See what?”
It didn’t sound like he’d seen Zhou Yanxing kissing him.
His clothes were also a bit rumpled, but he didn’t bother straightening them. He simply turned to leave.
Chi Zhan took a step forward, only to be stopped by Zhou Yanxing, who grabbed his arm. “Don’t go after him.”
Qi Song didn’t even break stride.
Chi Zhan pressed his lips together and watched him walk out of the company building.
There was no relief in his chest—none at all.
…In that moment, the heartache he felt seemed even sharper than when he’d broken up with Song Guang.
For a split second, Chi Zhan nearly abandoned the entire plan. But reason held him back. This might be the only chance he had to uncover the truth. If he gave up now, everything would be for nothing.
He stood alone in the conference room, quietly putting the chairs back in place, gathering the scattered files, organizing them one by one.
The chaos left behind made it clear the fight had been intense—and evenly matched. Zhou Yanxing throwing punches wasn’t surprising, but Seven could fight too?
Once the room was back in order, the only casualty was a broken laptop. Fortunately, the documents were all backed up. No losses.
Backups…
That reminded him—Cen Chi had created a memory backup for him as well. But he had no idea when he’d next be able to access it.
He still remembered what Cen Chi had told him:
“I’ll put a lock on your memories. To unlock what’s sealed away, it has to be done by me.”
Chi Zhan had asked, “And if you lose your memory too? Can you still open it?”
Cen Chi had gone quiet for a moment, then shook his head with a helpless smile.
“Whether the me who’s lost his memory can open the lock I left behind… That’s not up to who I am now. It depends on who I’ll become.”
