Chi Zhan looked completely innocent, thinking to himself, Isn’t this your own fault for being so outrageous in the first place?
Besides, he’d already been punished accordingly…
“What did you hear just now?” Zhou Yanxing suddenly asked.
Chi Zhan played dumb.
“I’d just gotten to the door when I heard you call my name… Did something happen?”
“Nothing,” Zhou replied, visibly relieved. “Shred that document later.”
“Got it.” The entire front of Chi Zhan’s shirt was soaked, sticking uncomfortably to his skin. “May I go downstairs to change?”
Zhou Yanxing frowned.
“The bathroom’s next to the lounge—you’ve been there. Just wear my clothes for now.”
“That’s not appropriate,” Chi Zhan refused politely. “I’ll just use the changing room downstairs—”
“You’re going to walk all the way down there in that shirt, dripping coffee everywhere, maybe even bumping into people?”
Chi Zhan paused.
“…Alright. I’ll borrow your bathroom then.”
“Mhm.” Zhou looked satisfied, giving him a sideways glance. “That shirt you wore last time—just wear it again.”
Zhou Yanxing’s black shirt had, once again, found its way back into Chi Zhan’s hands.
In the bathroom, Chi Zhan stripped off his soaked clothes and let out a quiet sigh.
He had heard it. When Young Master Bai asked Zhou who he liked, Zhou had clearly said two words:
“Chi Zhan.”
***
The bathroom wasn’t large. A small shelf was lined with bottles and jars.
What the…? Did Zhou Yanxing really do face masks on the side to maintain his godlike looks? Chi Zhan leaned in curiously—only to find they were all citrus-scented body washes.
Weird. He remembered Zhou usually preferred mint. Since when did he switch?
Chi Zhan happened to really like the smell of oranges, too.
Come to think of it… Nope. Don’t go there. That’s a slippery slope.
There was a more urgent matter at hand. He needed to find a “boyfriend.” If all else failed, he’d have to hire one temporarily.
Chi Zhan made plans silently as he showered and changed. The lounge door was closed. As he reached for the doorknob, he paused—there were voices on the other side.
Sounded like senior executives reporting to Zhou.
He couldn’t step out now. It’d give the wrong impression. Chi Zhan let go of the handle and instead picked up the contract Zhou had told him to shred.
After scanning it for a few minutes, he got the gist.
Young Master Bai had probably wanted to initiate a “marriage-first, love-later” CEO romance plot with Zhou Yanxing.
Chi Zhan had read plenty of system-recommended novels in his spare time. This kind of trope hinged on marrying first, then falling in love through daily interaction and misunderstandings born from a contractual relationship. It was a fan-favorite genre these days.
The idea was solid—he’d just picked the wrong person.
A few moments later, the voices outside quieted down, and Chi Zhan finally opened the door.
“President Zhou, I’ll head out for now. Would you like a cup of coffee—”
“Make it tea. I think I’m traumatized by coffee.”
“……”
As the saying goes, lightning never strikes twice… but Chi Zhan had a feeling there wouldn’t be a third Young Master Bai to splash coffee at Zhou again.
Of course, Zhou was mostly just saying that. He was already used to drinking coffee made by Chi Zhan—anything else felt off. So Chi Zhan made a cup, with cream and sugar, placed it on his desk, then went back to work.
Zhou took a sip. The familiar warmth and taste made him very pleased. He resumed processing emails, when suddenly, a junk ad popped up and automatically opened a webpage.
[CEO’s 999-Day Marriage Contract: Darling, Don’t Run!]
What kind of nonsense…
He went to close it, but the ad was surprisingly persistent—three separate “X” buttons all turned out to be decoys. Zhou scrolled down mindlessly… and suddenly stopped when a line caught his eye.
[Marriage first, love later. The ultimate method for CEOs to stop being single. No acting, no pretending—instant perfect love.]
His gaze drifted through the glass to Chi Zhan.
A marriage contract…?
Didn’t sound half bad.
If Chi Zhan were willing to marry him, Zhou could offer up 27% of Zhou Rui’s shares, keeping 28% for himself. And it would put him a step ahead—leave no opportunity for Cen Chi to slip in.
Cen Chi wasn’t the type to go around stealing lovers… or spouses.
They had once been friends. Zhou Yanxing still trusted Cen Chi’s moral compass, even if they were now love rivals.
The more he thought about it, the more perfect this plan seemed—nearly flawless. The only thing that needed editing… was the duration.
Nine hundred ninety-nine days? Not even close.
Try 999,999.
***
Chi Zhan was heading downstairs to pick up some files when he ran into Xiao Jia.
“Secretary Chi…” Xiao Jia glanced over casually, but the last word got stuck in his throat, eyes wide with shock. After a pause, he managed to cough up a meaningless filler. “Heading downstairs?”
Chi Zhan found it a little strange but nodded. Seeing Xiao Jia’s weird expression, he asked, “Something wrong?”
“You changed clothes today, huh? Looks… good on you.”
He caught the brief stiffness in Chi Zhan’s expression—and internally, a hammer struck down.
Gotcha!
It was the second time Xiao Jia had seen Secretary Chi wearing this slightly oversized, all-black shirt. After the first time, when President Zhou came in, he’d secretly compared the styles and was convinced the shirt had to be Zhou’s.
And now, he’d caught him wearing it again.
Chi Zhan’s hair was still damp—looked just like someone who’d just stepped out of a shower.
Earlier, the executives had indeed been reporting in the lounge. What Chi Zhan didn’t know was that when he reached for the doorknob, the noise had been heard clearly.
The rumor that President Zhou had a secret lover hidden in the lounge… spread like wildfire.
