And as it turned out, his gut feeling was spot-on—as always.
***
Even though he felt increasingly uneasy, Chi Zhan still had work to do. He focused on the documents in front of him, while Xiao Wang kept sneaking glances his way.
Something seemed… off about Secretary Chi today.
He was always meticulous—buttoned up to the collar, shirts tucked in perfectly, his clothes always neatly pressed. Technically, the entire company wore the same shirt-and-black-slacks uniform, but only Secretary Chi managed to make it look elegant. Never stiff or boring—just naturally pleasing to the eye.
But today, strangely enough, he had one button undone. Was it because the A/C was too high and he felt hot?
And another odd thing: Secretary Chi usually stayed in the executive secretary’s office, but today he’d spent a long time in the President’s office. Were they working on some new proposal?
When Chi Zhan finished reading, he noticed Xiao Wang was still there.
“Is there anything else?”
“No, that’s all. I’ll be going now,” Xiao Wang replied quickly.
Chi Zhan gathered the documents and straightened his appearance before heading to deliver them to the President’s office. Even if he didn’t want to see Zhou Yanxing right now, this was still his job—he couldn’t just dodge it.
But first, he caught his reflection faintly in the glass door and realized he’d left in such a rush earlier that he’d forgotten to button the top of his shirt.
He knocked three times, then pushed the door open with the stack of papers in hand. Zhou Yanxing was already seated behind his desk.
“President Zhou, the meeting this afternoon is scheduled for three o’clock. We’ll be discussing a potential partnership with several streamers from Panda Live,” Chi Zhan reported.
Zhou Yanxing flipped through the documents as Chi Zhan stood by, waiting for further instructions.
“Make arrangements to receive them, and have the marketing department sit in as well,” Zhou Yanxing said, glancing up and rising from his seat.
Chi Zhan was taking notes, but immediately grew wary of Zhou Yanxing’s movement. Ever since that incident in the office, Chi Zhan had developed an ultra-sensitive radar for anything the man did—terrified he’d suddenly pounce again the moment the lunchboxes got delivered or something.
“What are you dodging for?” Zhou Yanxing observed him closely.
Earlier, Chi Zhan had practically fled the office like a startled cat whose fur had been rubbed the wrong way. Cute, yes—but problematic. Frighten a cat, and the next time it sees you, it bolts. Try to catch it again, and you’re likely to end up with scratches.
Such a fussy little feline.
Chi Zhan’s body tensed at the memory of what had just happened. He fixed Zhou Yanxing with a look and said deliberately, “President Zhou, this is the office.”
This time, surprisingly, Zhou Yanxing didn’t push it. He nodded, scribbled a few notes on the file, and let Chi Zhan leave without fuss.
Chi Zhan would never know just how precious—and sweet—those twenty-four hours had been to Zhou Yanxing.
He didn’t want to waste a single second apart.
As he reviewed the list of meeting attendees again, Zhou Yanxing’s previously nonchalant gaze paused on one line. His lips curved into a cold, crooked smile.
Before the meeting, Chi Zhan went to the break room to make coffee, as usual. The room, usually bustling with chatter, was strangely quiet today—so quiet that a pin drop could be heard.
This was everyone’s favorite place to gossip. Why so silent today?
He stepped closer and immediately saw why: Zhou Yanxing was there.
No wonder everyone had gone stiff as boards and fled after filling their cups with hot water.
President Zhou’s intimidation factor in the company rivaled the Grim Reaper. Tales of senior staff being reduced to tears by his scolding were legendary. People practically trembled in his presence.
Only Zhou Yanxing himself seemed at ease, adjusting the water temperature with a relaxed posture. Whatever he was thinking, his usually sharp, commanding eyes had softened considerably.
“Secretary Chi,” he greeted without a trace of flirtation, sounding strictly professional—unlike in the office earlier. That alone was enough to make Chi Zhan breathe easier.
One glance was all it took for Zhou Yanxing to know Chi Zhan was here to make his coffee.
The two stood side by side in front of the coffee machine. Chi Zhan was a little puzzled—Zhou Yanxing never showed up in the break room. Making coffee was his job. Was Zhou impatient because he’d taken too long?
“President Zhou, allow me,” Chi Zhan offered.
But Zhou Yanxing said lazily, “You make yours. I’ll make mine. Let’s see who’s faster.”
Chi Zhan couldn’t help but laugh. Was this really something worth competing over?
That said, Zhou Yanxing was surprisingly adept at it…
The rich aroma of coffee filled the small space, each breath thick with the scent of top-grade beans.
Zhou Yanxing multitasked effortlessly, preparing his drink while quietly studying Chi Zhan’s lips—soft and pink—and the pale curve of his neck. He loved how Chi Zhan’s waist looked when his shirt was tucked in. Judging by eye alone, it couldn’t be much wider than the span of his hand.
The man barely ate. How could he get him to eat more?
Chi Zhan, on the other hand, wore a calm expression. But Zhou Yanxing’s gaze was so intense, it was impossible to ignore—it practically had weight.
He’d wanted to say something, but voices from the hallway drifted closer—someone approaching. Chi Zhan swallowed his words.
Coffee powder. Water. Milk. Sugar.
He’d long since memorized the exact proportions and stirred without thinking, completely focused. So focused, in fact, that he didn’t notice Zhou Yanxing inching closer and closer.
When he finally turned to speak, coffee ready in hand, he was met with a searing gaze.
Chi Zhan’s scalp prickled. He knew that look—and it hadn’t been long since he’d last seen it. But here? Now?
Before he could react, Zhou Yanxing was already a step ahead. He anticipated the retreat, snaked an arm around Chi Zhan’s lower back, and gently pulled him in—then lowered his head and kissed him.
The kiss was brief, cut short by Chi Zhan’s startled bite to his tongue.
Chi Zhan glanced nervously toward the door. The voices were already fading—just people passing by, not entering—but his heart was racing like mad. He could feel it pounding in his throat.
“Zhou. Yan. Xing!” he hissed, wishing he could grab him and shake him hard.Â
Wasn’t this man supposed to be a workaholic? Why did falling in love turn him into such a clingy nightmare?!
