Qin Weidong felt the same way. Had he known Fang Li was going to get acupuncture, he never would’ve let Yang Yaocheng find a doctor. He would have looked for one himself—someone he could trust completely.
But now it was time. The acupuncturist came to remove the needles. Seeing that Fang Li genuinely felt relief from his back pain, Qin Weidong didn’t say anything more.
Fang Li’s schedule had been packed lately, shuttling constantly between Jianjing, the capital, and Jinyang. Sometimes, for other events, he even had to fly out and stay in different cities for a few days at a time.
In early August, Waves organized a series of fan meetings for him across four major cities, including Jianjing and the capital. At the very first event, the organizers were caught off guard by the sheer number of attendees—nearby hotels were fully booked by fans, and the venue was so overcrowded that the barricades were pushed down.
The organizers had to scramble to bring in more than a dozen security guards just to restore order. Although they were better prepared for the subsequent events, every single one was still packed to the brim. Fans poured in from all over, just for a glimpse of their idol. The story even made the entertainment headlines. Without a doubt, Fang Li had become the year’s most unmissable rising star in the music industry.
Busy as he was, he and Qin Weidong hadn’t seen each other for more than ten days. When Fang Li finally returned to Jinyang and walked out of the airport, he sent Qin Weidong a text—but got no reply. Holding his phone, Fang Li chuckled to himself. The man didn’t interfere with his career anymore, but after being away so long, Qin Weidong would still give him the cold shoulder. It was kind of cute, really.
Yang Xiaoliu, who had been running around with Fang Li the past few days until her legs ached, was massaging her calves in the car. “Brother Li, what’s so funny?”
Fang Li thought for a moment and said, “We’re not going home. Go straight to Zhongsheng Tower.”
The car soon pulled up in front of Zhongsheng’s headquarters—an impressive skyscraper located in Xindong District, a hotspot for foreign investment and rapid development. It was practically a landmark now.
Fang Li put on his sunglasses and stepped out of the car. He didn’t notify Qin Weidong directly—instead, he texted Secretary Li.
Secretary Li received the message and immediately dropped everything to go meet Fang Li downstairs. He knew exactly who this young man was—someone their boss treated with utmost care.
Come to think of it, despite being back in the country for some time, Fang Li had never visited Zhongsheng before. Back in the U.S., he’d only ever been to Qin Weidong’s Manhattan office once or twice. Qin had always been swamped, and Fang Li often found himself bored. That’s why he’d left.
When Secretary Li spotted him, Fang Li was carrying a box of pastries he’d picked up from a century-old shop in the capital. Together, they took the express elevator to the top floor.
Several department heads had also been planning to report in and were surprised to see Secretary Li personally escorting a young man in sunglasses toward the president’s office. They couldn’t help but wonder—who was this guy? To warrant such treatment?
Outside the office, the head of R&D, Wang Jun, was pacing, clearly unsure whether to knock. Secretary Li called out, “Manager Wang?”
There weren’t any scheduled visitors for President Qin at the moment, so reporting in should’ve been fine.
But Wang Jun quickly waved his hands. “Secretary Li, now might not be the best time. I’ll come back later to report—really!”
Wang Jun looked like he’d just been caught snooping on the boss’s private business. He made a swift getaway, not even noticing Fang Li standing behind Secretary Li.
Secretary Li, quick on the uptake as always, saw Wang Jun’s expression and immediately sensed something unusual was going on in Qin Weidong’s office. He turned to Fang Li. “Mr. Fang, would you mind waiting in the reception room? I’ll go inform President Qin.”
But wasn’t this Qin Weidong’s office? What was the point of announcing anything? Fang Li, suspicious, pushed the door open. Secretary Li didn’t have time to stop him. Inside, there were indeed no visitors being entertained.
The reason Wang Jun had hesitated outside, though, was because there was someone else in the room besides Qin Weidong—a young woman. Fang Li recognized her instantly: Lin Huiru.
She looked quite different from the last time they’d met, no longer dressed like a student. Now she wore a demure A-line skirt and a white chiffon blouse that gave her an air of soft elegance and maturity. She was holding a folder, and when she saw Fang Li, she looked just as surprised.
“…Fang Li?”
The moment those two words left her mouth, Qin Weidong, who had been bent over his desk, immediately looked up. His eyes flashed first with surprise, then with delight—but he quickly forced down his emotions and asked in a measured voice, “What are you doing here?”
Fang Li’s good mood—the one he’d been saving for this surprise visit—vanished like water doused on a flame. Seeing Lin Huiru standing there filled him with a vague, sour frustration he couldn’t quite name.
He’d known Tong Na would be coming to intern at Zhongsheng—Qin Weidong had told him. No matter how bratty that princess might be, she was still Qin Weidong’s cousin by blood. But Qin Weidong had never said a word about Lin Huiru being here too. Back in the U.S., it hadn’t exactly taken a genius to see what kind of feelings Lin Huiru had for him.
Fang Li’s face darkened along with his mood. “I shouldn’t have come. I’m leaving.” He slammed the door shut and walked straight toward the elevators.
Qin Weidong had no idea why Fang Li was suddenly so angry, but the moment he left, Qin Weidong dropped everything and chased after him. Luckily, the only rooms on this floor were the president’s office and the secretaries’—no other staff were around. He caught up to Fang Li and grabbed his wrist.
“Why are you mad the second you walk in?”
Fang Li shook him off. “Why do you think? I came at the wrong time—clearly interrupted something between you two.” His words were sharp, each one stabbing into Qin Weidong like a needle. Lin Huiru and Secretary Li had followed them out, and Lin Huiru’s face was already paling.
Qin Weidong finally got a good look at her and realized it was Lin Huiru. Just now, he’d been deep in a call with the New York office and hadn’t even looked up when someone came in—he’d just told them to wait. Frowning, he asked, “Why are you here?”
Lin Huiru bit her lip. “S-sorry, Brother Weidong. The manager just asked me to bring up the docu—”
“You’re here for an internship?”
Lin Huiru nodded.
“Which department?”
“The Overseas Investment Department…”
The moment Fang Li heard that it really was an internship, his heart sank—so Qin Weidong hadn’t told him! After all these years, they had no secrets between them, let alone anything to hide.
Whatever good mood Fang Li had completely vanished. He turned to leave, but how could Qin Weidong really let him walk away? He waved Secretary Li away to keep others from coming in, then quickly pulled Fang Li into the office.
“Baby, I really didn’t know she was coming for an internship.” Qin Weidong whispered, kissing Fang Li’s neck. It had been days since they last touched.
“Get off…!” Fang Li pushed his head away and huffed. “Don’t play dumb. She’s practically joined at the hip with Tong Na. You knew Tong Na was coming, and you’re telling me you didn’t know she was?”
“I honestly didn’t…!” Qin Weidong didn’t think this was that big a deal, but with Fang Li making it sound so serious, he was at a loss for words. “I run a massive corporation. If I had to approve every intern every department takes on, I might as well step down and become a department manager.”
That was fair. As CEO, unless it was a close relative like Tong Na, whom he’d given the nod to directly, the hiring of interns was usually handled at the departmental level—nowhere near important enough to land on his desk.
Seeing Fang Li still pouting, Qin Weidong got a bit annoyed. Right then and there, he called the manager of the Overseas Investment Department. As soon as Manager Chen heard the CEO asking about intern Lin Huiru, he realized he’d probably made a mistake. He couldn’t very well say that it was Tong Na who’d asked if her good friend could also get an internship. Since Tong Na was the CEO’s cousin, and it was only a two-month stint, Manager Chen hadn’t dared to ask for approval—nor did he want to upset her. So he agreed on his own.
Qin Weidong said coldly, “If you ever send an intern to report to me again, your next transfer will be to HR for new employee training.”
Manager Chen broke into a cold sweat. Qin Weidong hung up.
“What nonsense.”
No wonder he was angry. Tong Na acting on her own using his name was one thing—annoying, but minor. What really set him off was that his subordinates couldn’t tell what was appropriate. At his level, any information or data error could impact major decisions at the corporate level. Everything sent to his desk had been reviewed and approved through multiple layers. There was no way he’d let a new intern, especially a temporary one, handle that kind of responsibility.
Fang Li had mostly cooled off by now. He said, “Alright. I believe you.”
Qin Weidong held him close, still looking unhappy. “You should have trusted me from the beginning.”
Now that he knew it was all a misunderstanding, Fang Li didn’t dwell on it any further. That was just how he was—quick to anger, but just as quick to let it go. Once it passed, it was over, no big deal.
He handed over the pastries he’d bought for Qin Weidong. “Try one? I stood in line forever for these. It’s a century-old brand, really famous in Beijing.”
Qin Weidong sat down with him. “Why’d you wait in line yourself? Where was Yang Xiaoliu?”
“He’s my assistant, not my servant. How could I ask him to do something so personal?”
Qin Weidong said, “Then I’ll hire someone else for you, a personal assistant for daily life.”
“No, no, I’ve got to mind my image now. A lot of celebrities get slammed for acting like divas.”
Besides, Yang Xiaoliu already helped him out plenty with daily things. Fang Li picked up a piece and popped it into Qin Weidong’s mouth. “Try it. Sweet?”
What made the old-brand pastries delicious wasn’t just the sugar. The flaky lotus flower pastry released a soft, mellow sweetness with the first bite. Fang Li stuffed the other half in his own mouth, savoring it. Just as he reached for another, Qin Weidong took it from his hand. “Your teeth hurt. Half a piece is enough.”
“You’re just being petty…”
Fang Li had no choice but to wipe his hands and open a different box. Qin Weidong let him—he wouldn’t be able to eat much anyway.
And just like that, the issue passed. Fang Li didn’t get as jealous as Qin Weidong—or maybe it was just a difference in personality. Qin Weidong was always alert, even in matters of the heart. Fang Li, on the other hand, was the type to cross the bridge when he came to it. Besides, Qin Weidong had always been his, and only his. When someone grew up believing that, it was hard to even feel jealousy.
In the end, whether Ye Yunshan liked him or not, the people she brought around could at most annoy him a little—never truly pose a threat.
Fang Li hadn’t planned to dwell on it—but what he didn’t expect was that his decision not to make a fuss would, a few days later, lead to him finding a “special” photo on Qin Weidong’s phone.
That night, he was in a nearby city filming. When he returned home the next morning, Qin Weidong wasn’t there. He had mentioned a dinner the night before, and since Fang Li hadn’t been home, maybe he’d had a few too many and didn’t come back.
Fang Li lay in bed to catch up on sleep and noticed Qin Weidong’s phone still on the nightstand.
Qin Weidong had two phones—one for domestic matters, one for international. Fang Li, thinking nothing of it (they didn’t distinguish between his and mine), picked it up to call the other number and let him know he was back. But just as he unlocked it and was about to dial, the screen lit up with a new message.
[Brother Weidong, you left your watch at my place last night.]
It was from an unknown number, a multimedia message with a photo attached. The bed was clearly in a hotel. The blanket had been pulled back. There was no one under it, but a woman’s hand was holding a wristwatch.
Fang Li leaned in for a closer look—and his mind went blank.
He recognized the watch. It was Qin Weidong’s.
Axolotl Translations 
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