Chi Zhan hadn’t expected Zhou Yanxing to suddenly walk in, and he didn’t have time to hide the item in his hands—once again, Zhou Yanxing caught him red-handed. Just as panic was rising in his chest, he caught a flicker of emotion in Zhou Yanxing’s eyes—a flash of surprise laced with tension.
Though Zhou Yanxing masked it almost instantly, Chi Zhan still picked up on a subtle, fleeting detail…
It was as if Zhou Yanxing hadn’t expected him to discover the crystal globe.
Right!
A lightbulb lit up in Chi Zhan’s mind with a metaphorical ding—
There was no reason for him to panic. He was the one who had bought the gift. If anything, it was Zhou Yanxing’s sneaky act of taking it into his own lounge that seemed suspicious.
Realizing this, Chi Zhan suddenly felt like he had the moral high ground.
“President Zhou, this looks like the gift I bought,” Chi Zhan said, shaking the crystal globe deliberately, a puzzled look on his face. “Why is it in your lounge?”
But Zhou Yanxing had already composed himself after that initial slip. His expression cool, he countered, “Your gift? Take a closer look—are you sure this one’s yours?”
A question mark practically floated above Chi Zhan’s head.
“There are hundreds of identical crystal globes at the gift shop. Can you really tell them apart? I already threw out the one from before. As for this one—it has nothing to do with you.”
Chi Zhan, who had been so sure of himself, was thrown off once again.
That didn’t make sense. If Zhou Yanxing had really tossed out the original crystal globe, why buy another one that looked exactly the same? Was he just burning money for fun?
“Stop overthinking,” Zhou Yanxing snatched the globe from his hands with visible impatience. “You’ve got a pile of work waiting for you. If you don’t finish, you’re working overtime.”
“But—”
“No buts. If you have questions, save them for after work. Now. Go. Work.”
Chi Zhan had no choice. He’d just returned, and sure enough, there was a mountain of work on his desk. He had to push the matter to the back of his mind and focus on his tasks. By the time the day ended, he’d completely forgotten about it.
For the on-site evaluation of Panda Live, Chi Zhan needed to confirm a few details. He called Su Ran.
“I’ve already spoken with President Zhou,” Su Ran said. “You guys can just head over directly—hotel reservations are all taken care of.”
“By the way, do you watch livestreams much? To boost our promotion efforts, we’ll be partnering with the most popular streamers from each category to shoot ads and music videos. If there’s anyone you like, I can introduce you.”
The first name that popped into Chi Zhan’s mind was Seven.
But Seven had just said he was preparing for an upcoming tournament and wouldn’t be streaming—he probably wouldn’t have time for ad shoots, either.
“I watch all kinds. The gaming section is probably the hottest, right? Biggest traffic too.”
“Exactly, since that’s our roots—game streaming. We’ve invited the top five streamers in terms of popularity. I’ll send you their contact info. If any catch your eye, feel free to reach out.”
As he spoke, Su Ran sent over five profile cards.
One of them had a black-and-white cat as its avatar—a striking contrast among the other minimalist icons. Something about it gave Chi Zhan a strange feeling. He tapped it open and, sure enough, the card read: WT-Seven.
His heart immediately began pounding.
That was Seven’s contact account. God, he wanted to add him so badly.
Suppressing the excitement bubbling inside, Chi Zhan forced himself to calm down.
“Got it. I’ll get back to you later.”
Then he opened each profile card in turn, introduced himself, and sent friend requests—treating everyone equally. That way, no one could tell which one was “special.”
Only after finishing that round of work did Chi Zhan check his phone again. The other four had already accepted his friend requests.
Only Seven hadn’t.
Even after he’d chatted with the rest, Seven’s request was still pending.
Not surprising.
He was probably in training—it made sense that he wasn’t checking his phone.
Besides, the odds of him accepting the invitation were slim to none. Chi Zhan had looked him up before; there was barely any info about Seven online, which made it obvious he wasn’t interested in marketing himself. Yet some netizens had leaked that Seven’s real-life identity was ridiculously impressive—and loaded.
Competing was just a hobby for him.
At first, Chi Zhan had held out maybe a 10% hope. But after scouring public information, that hope shrank to a mere 0.01%.
Still, it wasn’t like he had any burning desire to get close to Seven personally—he admired his gameplay, not the man himself.
Work never seemed to end. Chi Zhan ran upstairs to the archives room, picked up a few more files, and mapped out the schedule for the next week. By the time he finally had a moment to breathe, the whole thing had slipped his mind.
He made himself a cup of coffee but hadn’t even taken a sip when his phone lit up with a notification.
[WT-Seven has accepted your friend request. You can now start chatting.]
***
In the lounge.
Zhou Yanxing picked up the crystal globe and examined it for a moment.
Inside, the snowflakes floated silently. The pink starry sky—only children and teenage girls would like something like that.
He certainly didn’t.
So why had he kept it?
With that thought, Zhou Yanxing returned the globe to the shelf.
Chi Zhan remembered to give everyone else a gift. Why couldn’t he remember to give one to his boss? Poor boss, forced to pick up someone else’s leftovers.
Through the frosted glass, Zhou Yanxing could vaguely see Chi Zhan’s silhouette as he worked.
Lately, nothing had been going right. His mother kept pressuring him to get married. Business partners teased him for still being single. Strangers had begun showing up at the office, demanding to meet him. One bizarre incident after another. It got to the point where even the sight of a trash bin on the street made him want to kick it over.
But when he saw Chi Zhan, all that restless, destructive agitation inside him… quieted.
Every time he was dragged into another blind date by his mother, just the thought of spending a lifetime in the same room with someone he didn’t even like made him want to run for the hills.
He’d rather grow old alone.
But if the person he married was Secretary Chi…
Well, the sight of him was especially pleasant. Just looking at him put Zhou Yanxing in a good mood. In the mornings, Chi Zhan could make him coffee, straighten his tie—their height difference was perfect for that. Then he’d drive, and they’d go to work together. At lunch, they could eat as a pair. Chi Zhan seemed to really like that couple’s restaurant—what dish had suited his tastes last time?
