Secretary Xu viewed fame and fortune as fleeting clouds, saying, "I don't need them. Thank you, President Zhou, for your understanding. My New Year's wish is for the company to develop steadily."
In the evening, Gu Heping booked a private kitchen in Xiushui Street, and Lao Cheng came early to pick up Zhou Qishen. After getting into the car, Zhou Qishen glanced at the back seat, "Zhaozhao didn't come?"
Old Cheng turned the steering wheel. "You went camping with your classmates. Why didn't you rest for a few more days? You're not fully recovered yet."
Zhou Qishen wanted to smoke, but after picking up the cigarette pack, he put it back down, saying, "I can't leave."
Old Cheng chuckled, "There's no such thing as being unable to leave; it's all up to you. You've earned enough money; it's time to enjoy life."
Zhou Qishen smiled, a gentle warmth lingering between his brows, "Wait until we bring our son back."
Old Cheng slammed on the brakes, purely out of desperation, "Are you really that convinced you have a son?"
Zhou Qishen said, "Zhao Xiyin is capable of doing such a thing."
When someone is stubbornly unrepentant, they won't listen to any advice. Old Cheng didn't bring it up; he wanted the couple to resolve their own unresolved issues. After a moment of silence, Old Cheng suddenly asked, "That thing really wasn't done by Meng Weixi?"
Zhou Qishen said calmly, "Mm."
"Who were those people? They were incredibly ruthless. If you hadn't escaped, they would have really killed you." Old Cheng still feels indignant when he thinks about it now; they were such scoundrels.
Zhou Qishen remained silent, his hand resting on the windowsill, tapping lightly without touching it.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Gu Heping sprawled on the sofa like an old man, a cigarette between his fingers and his phone in the other, chatting on WeChat. His posture was rather unrefined, listless and颓废 (颓废 is a difficult word to translate directly, but it conveys a sense of listlessness, decadence, and apathy), but his overall demeanor was undeniable—seven parts charming and three parts lewd, a kind of understated scoundrel.
Zhou Qishen kicked him, wanting to settle scores with him long ago, "You're dating Li Ran?"
Gu Heping glanced at him. "No."
"Don't I know what kind of person you are?" Zhou Qishen said coldly. "You'd better watch yourself."
Gu Heping, contrary to his usual behavior, suppressed his smile and remained silent.
"What are we having for dinner today?" Old Cheng asked as he walked over.
Gu Heping got excited when he talked about it, and stood up from the sofa, "Niu Chongyan."
Old Cheng was stunned for a moment, then kicked him back, "Are you even human? Boss Zhou was just discharged from the hospital, are you trying to kill him?"
Gu Heping sat down at the dining table. "It's only right that he needs some nourishment. He's been abstaining for several years, and I almost thought he was going to become a monk. It's normal for his function to decline."
Zhou Qishen's face turned pale and then red, and he had nowhere to vent his anger, so he could only swallow it down.
Actually, this is a good ingredient, quite nourishing for both men and women. The chef prepared it in several ways, including stews, stir-fries, and cold dishes. Halfway through the meal, Gu Heping glanced at Zhou Qishen and casually mentioned, "Shen'er, let me tell you something. A friend of mine was driving past the Workers' Stadium yesterday and saw Meng Weixi and Xiao Zhao together under the Sanlitun overpass."
Zhou Qishen suddenly looked up. "Why are you together?"
"Nothing much... They were both crying so hard, let's hug."
After speaking, Gu Heping was filled with trepidation, but after a dozen seconds of silence, Zhou Qishen showed no change in emotion, continuing to drink his soup and eat his rice. Only after finishing the last piece of beef did he pick up a towel to wipe his hands. Just when Gu Heping thought everything was alright, Zhou Qishen grabbed a cup and smashed it against the wall—
The sound of shattering was deafening, a desperate, all-or-nothing determination.
Zhou Qishen, his face grim, didn't say a word, put on his coat and left.
Old Cheng and Gu Heping exchanged glances, slightly worried, "Are you going to challenge Meng Weixi to a duel again?"
"Don't worry, he can't beat him like this. Brother Zhou isn't a stupid person."
——
Zhao Xiyin received a notification from the troupe five days after the assessment that the lead dancers for the "Nine Thoughts" dance segment had been selected, and Su Ying and Zhao Xiyin would jointly serve as the lead dancers.
Zhao Wenchun listened intently from the side, and seeing that she hadn't spoken for a long time after hanging up the phone, he asked anxiously, "Is there any result yet? Huh? You, say something."
Zhao Xiyin was unusually calm. She poured herself a glass of water, took two slow sips, and then said, "Yes, lead dancer."
Zhao Wenchun was overjoyed and slapped his thigh, exclaiming, "The Zhao family's children are truly promising!"
Zhao Xiyin suppressed a laugh and pretended to be disgusted, "Who always tells me that the result doesn't matter, as long as I'm happy? Teacher Zhao, look at yourself now, you're just a big vain person."
Zhao Wenchun was all smiles. "So what if I'm vain? My daughter has made me proud! I'm happy about it."
Zhao Xiyin's smile was like a blooming flower, her eyes sparkling. Having danced for over twenty years, how could she not care? Reaching a bigger stage was still her dream. If time could rewind five years, she would definitely nod without hesitation.
What about now?
Zhao Xiyin felt quite at peace, finding a balance between hope and despair was more important than anything else.
In just a short while, her WeChat messages were almost overflowing.
The dance troupe's group chat was flooded with congratulatory messages. Zhao Xiyin, being socially savvy, sent five red envelopes to the group, generously saying it was for everyone to have some candy. Cen Yue was so happy that she bombarded everyone with over a dozen crying emojis, her emotions so genuine; this girl truly has a pure heart.
Teacher Zhao insisted on cooking something delicious for her, and busied herself in the kitchen wearing an apron, humming the Peking Opera "Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy." She then reminded her, "Tell your aunt to come over for dinner tonight."
When the call was made, a young male voice answered, saying very politely, "Ms. Zhao is taking a shower. She asked you to let me know if you need anything."
Zhao Xiyin was taken aback at first, then realized what was going on. "Queen Zhao Zetian," free and unrestrained in the world, was now indulging in some young heartthrob. Blushing, she hung up, not daring to say anything more, and silently sent a WeChat message to Zhao Lingxia.
My aunt replied two hours later, presumably after finishing her business, with just one word: "Mm".
Zhao Xiyin held her phone and grinned foolishly. Zhao Wenchun sighed as she watched. It was really strange. The little girl was afraid of her aunt. If her aunt was nice to her, she would be a hundred percent obedient, just like a child who hadn't grown up.
As his excitement subsided, Zhao Wenchun sipped his tea, the teapot lid clinking against the rim of the cup. He tentatively asked, "You cried so hard last night, just because I came home late?"
Zhao Xiyin was playing on her phone and didn't respond.
Teacher Zhao wanted to ask but didn't dare, silently swallowing her words, and brought up another matter, "Yesterday I delivered food to Qi Shen, and he, he told me something." Zhao Wenchun carefully observed her daughter's expression, weighing her thoughts and hesitating.