Chi Zhan could only comfort himself like this.
Still, he had no idea when the Sword of Damocles hanging over his head would finally come crashing down.
“Actually, President Zhou isn’t usually like this,” Chi Zhan murmured to the shell-shocked Jiang Yi. “He’s just in a bad mood today.”
Jiang Yi looked at him with genuine sympathy.
“Secretary Chi, you’ve really got it rough. Being around that Demon King Zhou day in and day out… How do you even stand him? If I were you, I’d have quit a long time ago.”
Demon King Zhou… Was that Zhou Yanxing’s new nickname?
As much as Chi Zhan hated to admit it, it did suit him.
True to form, Zhou Yanxing didn’t return to the office for the rest of the day. Chi Zhan gave Jiang Yi a crash course in dinner etiquette, then brought him along to the evening engagement.
Player [Jiang Yi] has entered the [Dinner Engagement] scenario.
Normally, this would be the part where the player cozied up to their target, sparks flying with every glance and line of dialogue. Meanwhile, the secretary played the ultimate supporting role—chauffeur, host, fixer, hotel booker, bill-settler. The whole package.
Tonight’s business dinner all but guaranteed an endless stream of toasts. Chi Zhan had long since stopped expecting any romantic developments between Zhou Yanxing and the player. What he hadn’t expected was the reason Zhou had asked him to bring Jiang Yi along—to serve as a human alcohol shield.
Jiang Yi was just an intern, and Zhou Yanxing, who rarely drank, casually cited needing to drive. The responsibility shifted—just like that—to Chi Zhan and the new assistant. Chi Zhan was ready to take one for the team, but Jiang Yi beat him to it, grabbing the glass and downing it. Then another. And another.
Chi Zhan watched in silent horror.
Zhou Yanxing, you’re the designated romance target…
And you’re making the player drink for you? Do you even have shame?
Zhou must’ve caught the searing accusation in Chi Zhan’s eyes, because he quirked a brow as if to ask, What’s the problem?
What’s the problem?!
You’ve thrown decorum out the window! Aren’t you worried the player might report you?
Then he remembered—players could only file complaints against NPCs, not romance targets.
No wonder Zhou Yanxing was so brazen.
Chi Zhan couldn’t just sit there while Jiang Yi guzzled glass after glass. Even if it wasn’t lethal, it was hardly appropriate. Rising smoothly, he intercepted a few more drinks, leaning in to whisper, “Ease up. Sit down. I’ll handle it.”
One of the execs gave a hearty laugh. “Secretary Chi really is President Zhou’s right hand! Come, have one with me!”
Jiang Yi, already flushed and bleary-eyed, still insisted with slurred defiance, “No, I—I’ll drink this one! I’m fine, really!”
Chi Zhan sighed, placed a steadying hand on Jiang Yi’s shoulder, and gently eased him back into his seat before raising the glass himself.
But the toasts were relentless. Just as Chi Zhan lifted his fourth, a hand reached out and plucked the drink from his grasp.
Zhou Yanxing had stepped out for air, only to return and find his secretary once again being passed around like a drinking vessel. His gaze flicked to Jiang Yi, whose face was beet red, and his brows knitted in faint displeasure.
“The deal’s done,” Zhou said flatly. “That’s enough. Secretary Chi still has to work tomorrow—don’t make him show up late.”
When Zhou Yanxing spoke, no one argued. His presence commanded the room. With that final word, the dinner wound down, and he rose to leave.
Outside the hotel, a chill breeze rolled in with the night. Zhou hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol. Jiang Yi, meanwhile, was seeing stars, leaning heavily on Chi Zhan and slurring, “Sec… Secretary Chi, don’t worry ‘bout me… I can still drink!”
Zhou waved over a server to help the intern, lest he go completely limp and keep latching onto Chi Zhan like a drunk puppy.
Chi Zhan had a light buzz himself, but the cold air quickly sobered him. Still, one thought nagged at him—Zhou Yanxing clearly didn’t like Jiang Yi. But what had Jiang Yi done to offend him?
Zhou’s heart was like a needle lost in the Mariana Trench—impossible to locate, much less understand.
“Need a lift?”
Zhou’s Ferrari purred at the curb, keys spinning around his finger as he opened the passenger side.
Chi Zhan, ever the responsible NPC, shook his head. “You should take Jiang Yi home.”
“That kid already bolted,” Zhou clicked his tongue.
‘Bolted? More like rage-quit.’
“How much did you drink?”
Chi Zhan rubbed his temples. “Not much.”
His tone was light, almost airy, but he still sounded coherent.
Chi Zhan’s skin flushed easily when he drank. Now, his cheeks and the curve of his neck glowed a soft pink. The wind was cold—he pulled his coat back on, the black fabric making his fair complexion stand out even more starkly.
“No need to trouble yourself,” Chi Zhan said. “President Zhou, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He was testing the waters, trying to see where he stood with Zhou.
If Zhou didn’t give him a clear answer, he’d be on edge all night.
“See me tomorrow?”
Zhou remained in the car, engine still off. He rolled the window down, the flickering neon from the restaurant sign tracing the sharp angles of his face. His voice dropped, low and firm.
“Secretary Chi, let’s settle a score.”
‘There it is. Finally.’
Strangely, the moment those words landed, Chi Zhan felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest. Relief washed over him.
He dropped his gaze, putting on the meek, obedient expression that had saved him more than once. Maybe if he looked pitiful enough, Zhou would go easy on him.
He had already apologized that morning, after all.
“I’ll overlook the coffee incident. And what happened with the intern,” Zhou said coldly. “But this—what’s this about?”
Chi Zhan blinked. “Wh-what?”
Zhou pulled out a card, holding it up under the flickering glow of the neon lights.
“‘Dear Young Master Bai,’” he read aloud.
Chi Zhan froze.
How… how had that card ended up in Zhou Yanxing’s hands?!
Zhou glanced sideways and caught the flash of panic on Chi Zhan’s face. Clearly satisfied, he continued:
“‘Tomorrow is your birthday. I hope you’re always happy. Please forgive my sharp tongue—I’m just not good at expressing myself.’”
……
If Chi Zhan were a player, he would’ve logged out by now.
Too bad NPCs didn’t have that privilege.
What he couldn’t understand was this—he’d asked the receptionist to deliver that gift to Young Master Bai. So how the hell had it landed in Zhou Yanxing’s hands?
