Zhou Yanxing didn’t speak. Instead, he turned his back to Chi Zhan, as if pulling open a drawer. Chi Zhan had a sudden premonition—Zhou Yanxing seemed about to say something important. His fingers tightened instinctively.
…What should he do?
What was he supposed to do?
The last time the System had updated Zhou Yanxing’s Favorability Panel, it had hovered in the “Heartflutter” range.
But Chi Zhan couldn’t for the life of him figure out what about him could possibly stir Zhou Yanxing’s heart.
If it was looks, the game was flooded with gorgeous players—he was hardly one of a kind.
If it was intelligence, plenty of people were smarter than him.
If it was money, he certainly wasn’t wealthy. No parents, no powerful family backing him, no influential connections to boost a career.
And if Zhou Yanxing was into poor guys… well, his tastes couldn’t be that eccentric, right?
While his thoughts spiraled wildly, Zhou Yanxing turned around—cradling something Chi Zhan instantly recognized: the crystal orb.
“This really is the one you bought,” Zhou Yanxing said, setting it down with a faint, almost wistful tone. “Even though you didn’t recognize it last time.”
No—I did recognize it, Chi Zhan admitted inwardly.
I just pretended not to, to protect your fragile pride, Mr. CEO.
But of course, he couldn’t ask why Zhou Yanxing had kept it. If he did, Zhou Yanxing could just follow the lead and say, “Because I like you.”
Chi Zhan could only stay silent.
“So you like shiny pink things, huh?” Zhou Yanxing said blandly. “Just like your obsession with fireworks—high-saturation colors. No sense of refinement at all.”
“……”
Wait… was he misunderstanding this?
Who starts a love confession by trashing the other person’s taste?
Absolutely infuriating.
Chi Zhan couldn’t help firing back, “I only bought that because Young Master Bai liked it…”
“So you don’t actually like it,” Zhou Yanxing cut in. “Then why care about what Young Master Bai likes? I’ve always found that strange—how you seem to know everyone’s preferences down to the detail. But you’re my secretary, not theirs.”
“……”
So that’s what this is about—jealousy.
Zhou Yanxing placed the crystal orb in front of Chi Zhan, spinning it idly with one hand.
“Can you focus a little more attention on me? Your boss has been waiting to see what kind of gift you’d give him.”
“But… your birthday hasn’t come yet,” Chi Zhan said, unable to stop himself. “Isn’t it still a few weeks away?”
“……”
“Do you think birthdays are the only time you can give someone a gift?”
“Aren’t they?”
Zhou Yanxing let out a soft “heh,” half amused, half exasperated.
“Secretary Chi, you really are…” He shook his head. “Absolutely hopeless.”
Chi Zhan was left completely baffled.
“So,” Zhou Yanxing said, pulling a chair out and sitting down in front of him, “what’s the deal between you and Chu Xingxiao?”
“Nothing at all,” Chi Zhan answered without hesitation.
“Then… is today his birthday?”
Chi Zhan truly couldn’t follow Zhou Yanxing’s train of thought. He paused and said, “…I don’t know. Why?”
“If it’s not his birthday, and there’s no special reason to give him a gift, then why did you give him the scarf?” Zhou Yanxing’s gaze burned into him. “And if it was just a loan, why is he still wearing it around his neck? He can’t afford a scarf? How long do you plan to ‘lend’ it to him?”
“……”
President Zhou’s jealousy really took the most convoluted routes.
Truth be told, Chi Zhan hadn’t given it much thought at the time. Once the scarf was out of his hands, he hadn’t expected to get it back. In that sense, it really was a gift.
Zhou Yanxing’s mind was impossible to read. Chi Zhan mulled it over and finally came to one conclusion:
Maybe Zhou Yanxing just wanted a present—that’s why he was going on and on like this.
So unnecessarily complicated.
“Once I’m fully recovered, I’ll… give you a gift,” Chi Zhan muttered to himself. Who the hell asks for gifts this openly? Zhou Yanxing might be the first.
“Then you’re not allowed to stay at Cen Chi’s place,” Zhou Yanxing said. “Convenience doesn’t matter. I’ll take you there in the morning and pick you up at noon—it’s not a big deal. You’re mine, don’t go bothering others.”
Chi Zhan couldn’t help but laugh. President Zhou’s thought process had to be more tangled than a Nine-Ring Puzzle. Each circle linking the next—an endless, complicated chain.
“I’m not staying at Doctor Cen’s,” Chi Zhan said. Seeing Zhou Yanxing’s expression relax, he added, “And I’m not staying at your place either.”
Zhou Yanxing frowned.
“You don’t have anyone at home to take care of you. That won’t do.”
“It’s fine,” Chi Zhan said breezily. “Last time was the same—I managed just fine. Other than a bit of inconvenience, it’s no big deal. Some light activity is even good for recovery.”
Zhou Yanxing was ready to let it go… until he suddenly remembered something crucial.
That scheming little fresh-faced idol next door—what if he used “taking care of Chi Zhan” as an excuse to worm his way into the house?
There were just too many love rivals.
President Zhou’s Jealousy Radar had gone into overdrive and showed no signs of stopping.
There was only one way to eliminate all rivals at once.
With an air of nonchalance, Zhou Yanxing said, “Actually, my family’s been pressuring me to get married lately. I’m at that age—it’s time to settle down. If I meet someone suitable, I should probably go through with it. Secretary Chi, what’s your take on that?”
Chi Zhan hesitated.
“That sounds… good.”
Zhou Yanxing kept up his casual tone.
“You think so too? I remember you once asked about my ideal partner. So—any matches? Preferably someone younger than me.”
“……”
The implications in Zhou Yanxing’s words were practically oozing out.
Of course Chi Zhan remembered Zhou Yanxing’s so-called “ideal type.”
He’d even written it down in his notebook, and checked it daily.
“Fair, thin, tall. Highly competent, pleasant voice, knows how to make coffee.”
Back then, he’d wondered why those standards seemed oddly… specific. But now, he no longer had any doubts.
