"—I've checked. There was indeed a chunk of concrete broken off from the edge of the building," Si Qi muttered under his breath.
Wang Zi Rui's eyes darkened, a sharp glint flashing through them as the atmosphere abruptly turned cold—an unmistakable warning that he was in no mood for mistakes. No one would be foolish enough to provoke him now.
Just then, a bald, round-bodied man hurried over to greet him, hands clasped together, his lips stretching into a practiced smile.
"Hahaha," he laughed lightly. "I didn't expect Mr. Wang to arrive so suddenly. Had I known, I would have arranged to host you somewhere far more suitable than this."
As he spoke, he extended his hand, clearly expecting Zi Rui to shake it.
But Zi Rui didn't move. He merely stared at the man, his gaze so cold it sent a shiver down the bald man's spine. Sweat beaded at his temples as he hastily retracted his hand, the bright smile on his face faltering into a stiff, awkward one. He could tell—Zi Rui was not pleased.
Zi Rui then glanced at Si Qi, motioning him to introduce the man. Si Qi nodded and said, "This is the head project manager, Ma Guodong."
Ma Guodong forced another smile and nodded, clearly expecting Zi Rui to treat him with some leniency. But Zi Rui's expression remained unchanged. He stared at the man for a long moment before speaking, his voice calm but deliberate:
"Ah… the head manager. Then you should be able to explain…. why one of your workers fell from the building."
Ma Guodong swallowed hard and his hand trembled at his side as a bead of sweat slid down his temple. Guilt flickered across his eyes, but no words came.
…
Meanwhile, in the suburbs of H. City, inside the Wang Mansion, Wang Jing Feng took a seat in a leather chair across from Wang Cheng Shou's mahogany desk. Cheng Shou, wearing a green shirt, continued scrolling through his iPad before finally glancing up at Jing Feng.
"I hear you sent Zi Rui to handle the matters in Province A," he says, his voice low and gravelly, slow with age, yet carrying the unmistakable weight of authority.
Jing Feng nodded. "Mm. What's wrong?" he asked.
"The matters in Province A aren't that simple," Cheng Shou replied, shifting slightly in his seat. He added, "You introduced him to this Lin girl, and now this… Are you making it too hard for him?"
His gaze stayed fixed on Jing Feng as his fingers absently rubbed the jade ring. Jing Feng, however, remained calm; he knew his father wasn't truly angry—just wary of anyone trying to play tricks behind his back.
"Didn't you say I needed to train him?" Jing Feng's voice was deliberate. "He's been at the company for a month, and all I hear is his arrogance."
He rose, eyes never leaving Cheng Shou. "You may recognize him as the heir, but the shareholders don't—and now they're spreading rumors that could tarnish his reputation."
A slow sigh left him. "This incident… it could be his chance to shut them all up."
For a brief moment, the room fell silent as father and son held each other's gaze, the tension hanging thick in the air. Finally, Cheng Shou shifted his eyes away. "It's good… if that's truly what you think."
Jing Feng remained impassive, though a flicker of something unspeakable flashed across his eyes too quickly to catch. Then he said, "If there's nothing else, I'm taking my leave."
Cheng Shou watched him go before letting out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair.
His son and grandson… they were much the same. Mending a broken bond was never going to be easy, he told himself.
…
Back in Province A, Song Meiqi sat quietly in a private room of a Western restaurant she had booked just hours earlier. It was sheer luck—reservations were typically filled months in advance, and only a sudden cancellation had made the room available.
Her gaze drifted lazily around the place. The warm glow of the chandeliers spilled over the polished ceramic tiles, soft reflections dancing across the space and wrapping it in a tranquil, intimate calm.
It was already twenty minutes past eight, yet Wang Zi Rui had not arrived. Bored, Meiqi picked up her phone, hesitating as she considered sending him a message. After a brief pause, she set it down again, deciding to wait just a little longer.
Just then, the doors opened. Long strides carried a familiar figure into the room. Wang Zi Rui stopped in front of her, still dressed in the same three-piece black suit. Unlike earlier, his blazer was now draped neatly over his arm, and loose curls of ashen dark hair fell over his tired eyes. He looked noticeably more worn than he had just hours ago.
Meiqi's eyes flickered at him. They had met several times before, each encounter revealing a different side of him—arrogant, cold, aloof, reliable. After everything she'd been through recently, seeing him by her side felt quietly reassuring.
"I apologize, Ms. Song. I'm late," Zi Rui said, taking the seat across from her.
She watched his measured movements. So he could be a gentleman too, she realized. The thought eased some of her tension, and a small smile curved her lips. She was quietly glad to meet someone so unique amid the chaos of her life.
"Let's order," Meiqi said, breaking the silence and Zi Rui gave a small nod in response.