Cen Chi gave a soft “mm” in response, leisurely chewing a piece of beef. After a pause, he added thoughtfully, “So by that logic, it’s perfectly normal for Ah-Zhan to reject you.”
Zhou Yanxing was the last person suited for romance. The reason was simple—he was far too domineering and intense. He had a one-track mind, was possessive as hell, and would get pissed off for half a day if someone merely chatted with another guy. Who the hell would enjoy dating a jealousy gremlin?
Zhou Yanxing took a sip of wine, clearly done with this line of conversation. The more they talked, the more irritated he got.
“Information sharing,” he pivoted. “Not relationship stuff.”
Cen Chi laced his fingers together.
“I’m all ears.”
“Have you noticed something… off about a few people?” Zhou Yanxing’s voice lowered, serious. “They don’t seem like they belong in this world.”
He didn’t elaborate too clearly. After the last incident—when everyone seemed to suffer “collective amnesia”—it felt like some invisible force was manipulating them behind the scenes. He still hadn’t figured out what exactly triggered it. A specific phrase? An action? He had to keep his words vague, just in case.
But the fact that his own memory hadn’t been wiped—maybe that meant he was outside of that force’s control. Maybe his identity wasn’t the same as “theirs.”
There was something all these people had in common: they behaved bizarrely. Whether it was the blind date candidates who popped up on every street corner or the random thugs barging into his office to pick a fight, nothing followed any logical pattern. It was as if the entire world were designed to mess with him.
And today’s conversation with Lu Xiao only reinforced that idea.
How could there possibly be medicine that heals instantly with just one spray? According to Lu Xiao, everyone had access to this stuff. But with current medical technology? That was flat-out impossible.
Zhou Yanxing hadn’t brought this up with Cen Chi on a whim. Like him, Cen Chi had also been caught in an endless loop of matchmaking dates. Though the guy always seemed to glide through them effortlessly, enjoying the process even—he was far too sharp not to have noticed something strange about it all.
Cen Chi nodded.
“You’re right. They’re definitely not the same kind of people as us.”
Zhou Yanxing looked at him, skeptical.
“You sound pretty sure.”
“I have my ways.”
“In that case, things are pretty clear now,” Zhou said, frowning. “We don’t know their true intentions, but apparently the end goal is… to marry me?”
He wrinkled his brows, genuinely baffled.
“Don’t these people have jobs? No ambition, no goals, all they do is cling to me like leeches. Do they even know how to do anything besides date?”
He was losing his mind dealing with this crowd. It felt like living on the set of Final Destination—every day, if he wasn’t working, he was dodging another insistent suitor. Chase after chase, day after day. Even if he kicked them out, they’d be back the next morning.
They’d pushed Zhou Yanxing—someone who naturally loved the outdoors and working out—into building a private gym at home and never stepping foot outside. These people couldn’t just materialize inside his house, could they?
“Careful how you say that. Aren’t you just like them now? If we’re talking about relentless pursuit, you’re far worse than any of them.”
“……”
“There’s a third category too. I’m not entirely sure yet, but based on my observations, these people aren’t like the weird ones, and they’re not like us either. Take the restaurant staff, or the commuters rushing down the street—they all seem perfectly normal. And I think Ah-Zhan falls into this third group.”
Zhou Yanxing raised an eyebrow, staying silent. Cen Chi went on.
“Aren’t you the least bit curious? If he really didn’t like you, why bother faking a boyfriend just to brush you off? Sure, his choice of actor wasn’t the best, but what if he’d picked someone more convincing—someone who could sell the part and actually fool you?”
Zhou Yanxing was about to retort when he spotted Chi Zhan returning in the distance. He fell silent.
Chi Zhan wasn’t alone.
Trailing behind him was someone who looked like a particularly annoying tail.
Jiang Yi’s expression turned sour the moment he spotted Zhou Yanxing. His nose wrinkled, lips twisted, clearly displeased. He turned to Chi Zhan and muttered, “Chi-ge, you came with him?”
His tone dripped with disdain.
Then he looked at Chi Zhan again, eyes filled with eager hope.
“I’ll head out now, then. Let’s stay in touch. I’ll be waiting for your call.”
Chi Zhan gave a polite nod.
“See you next time.”
Zhou Yanxing frowned.
“Who’s that? A friend of yours?”
Chi Zhan hesitated.
“…That’s the intern from before, President Zhou.”
Of course. It was Zhou Yanxing—zero favorability rating toward all employees. Jiang Yi could be seething with rage just at the sight of him, but Zhou had already long since forgotten someone that insignificant.
The atmosphere at the table turned even heavier.
Chi Zhan was a mess inside.
He and Jiang Yi had run into each other by accident earlier, and Jiang Yi had delivered yet another bombshell.
Turns out, Jiang Yi was friends with Lu Xiao—the man who had just completed what must’ve been his 1,111th blind date with Zhou Yanxing at the office that day. And the moment he got home, he couldn’t help venting to him.
“Someone already successfully ‘captured’ Zhou Yanxing! Why didn’t anyone in the strategy group mention that?! I went over there like an idiot, totally embarrassed myself!” Lu Xiao had looked absolutely devastated. “That player was even better looking than me, no wonder they pulled it off. Even I wanted to romance him after seeing him!”
“Wait, who managed to pull that off?” Jiang Yi had asked, confused.
He’d recently secured funding and opened his own flower shop, stepping into his new role as a high-aspiration business player. His goal? Build his little flower empire into a top-three national brand—take down the entire Zhou Rui Group if he could.
He’d been hoping to invite Chi-ge to play along too, but didn’t want to disturb him on his days off. And on workdays, he didn’t want to get in the way either. As a result, they barely saw each other at all. He hadn’t really kept up with the forums either—too much of the same old stuff.
Post after post saying things like “I failed to capture Zhou Yanxing,” “I failed with Cen Chi,” “I failed with Qi Song,” “I failed with Chu Xingxiao”—he was sick of them.
So when Lu Xiao dropped that line, it was top-tier gossip.
“You don’t know? It’s Zhou Yanxing’s secretary—Secretary Chi! So jealous… he drew such a great starting role. Meanwhile, I got stuck with a crappy suburban house and nothing else. Why is my life so miserable?”
