Limited-Time Attachment - Chapter 30

Boshen’s office area was located in a commercial building in the East District of City A.

The office environment was pleasant, featuring high ceilings and neatly arranged greenery. In the CEO’s office on the second floor, Song Ming sat alone, twirling her phone in one hand while staring at the succulents by the window.

She was waiting for news from Jing Lie.

The notification tone chimed twice. The phone, which had been spinning between her fingers, was suddenly gripped tight in her palm. The screen lit up, but it was a message from a subordinate.

“President Song, the preliminary cooperation intention with the new designer from X has been confirmed. The designer can come to the office for a meeting next week. The earliest flight can be booked for next Monday.”

“The capital procedures are also ready. We can inject funds into Bo Shen at any time.”

After reading the content, Song Ming lost interest instantly. She closed her eyes and replied with a casual “Okay.”

The other party replied quickly: “President Song, do you have time now? There are some other matters I need to report to you.”

Song Ming frowned and replied with one word: “Yes.”

The diligent subordinate called immediately. As soon as Song Ming answered, they began reporting on her overseas assets. Aside from her own company, there was the inheritance left by her mother, it was time for the end of quarter report.

Song Ming listened half-heartedly, responding occasionally. She was distracted.

It’s just checking who Zhou Jibai has been in contact with lately, why is it taking so long? Song Ming unconsciously gripped her private phone. Her attention drifted away from the report as she began considering whether to just ask an acquaintance to look into Zhou Jibai’s current situation.

Before she could decide whom to call, the phone in her hand vibrated, and a somewhat unfamiliar ringtone sounded.

Song Ming’s train of thought was broken.

Song Ming used different ringtones for her various numbers. The one currently ringing was known to very few people and rarely received calls. Song Ming glanced at it, no contact name was displayed.

A salesperson? Song Ming was about to hang up when her eyes swept over the last few digits of the number. It suddenly felt familiar.

Is it Zhou Jibai?

As the incoming call interface expanded, Song Ming read the number again. She was certain, this was the number she had known by heart two years ago.

The subordinate was still talking incessantly in her ear. Song Ming interrupted abruptly: “Wait.”

The subordinate paused: “What?”

Song Ming looked down at the screen and laughed softly: “Something… more important has happened.”

If you drew a line on the map of City A connecting Jiaxin and Bo Shen, you would find a Michelin two star hotel near the midpoint. The hotel’s restaurant was highly rated, specializing in French desserts, and boasted a superior environment on the top floor. Sitting by the shell-shaped panoramic windows, one could overlook half the city just by shifting their gaze.

Song Ming dangled her car keys from her fingers as she followed the waiter past a decorative partition wall. When she found the table Zhou Jibai had reserved, Zhou Jibai was already there. She seemed to have been waiting for a while, her head tilted as she looked out the window.

Unlike Song Ming, who only dressed formally occasionally, Zhou Jibai was almost always polished and capable at work. However, even a stiff shirt and A-line skirt couldn’t dampen the swaying sense of elegance she carried.

This was the first time the two had met privately since their breakup.

“President Zhou suddenly said she wanted to talk, it really gave me a fright.” Song Ming walked over and pulled out a chair.

Attracted by the sound, Zhou Jibai turned her head and looked Song Ming up and down.

Song Ming was dressed simply today, wearing a brown casual jacket left half-open over a black ribbed tank top, with black trousers draping over her shoes. The necklace in front of her collarbone rested against her skin.

Sensing Zhou Jibai’s gaze, Song Ming tilted her head knowingly: “What?”

“Nothing,” Zhou Jibai withdrew her gaze and adjusted the napkin in front of her. “I was just reflecting that after two years, President Song’s style seems to have changed a bit.”

“People change,” Song Ming looked directly at Zhou Jibai and smiled slightly. “Two years is a long time, after all.”

Zhou Jibai’s brow furrowed slightly, and she leaned back into her seat. “President Song looks much more sober today. It seems yesterday’s alcohol has worn off.”

Song Ming’s smile stiffened, and a surge of frustration rose within her. “President Zhou is joking. What kind of wine doesn’t wear off after a whole night?”

“Oh, is that so?” Zhou Jibai lowered her gaze. “That’s good. Otherwise, I would have thought President Song still had some lingering feelings and wanted to rekindle our old flame.”

The moment the words “rekindle our old flame” appeared, Song Ming felt a throb in her temple. She leaned forward and lowered her voice: “You were the one who kissed me first on that balcony!”

“Two bottles of whiskey couldn’t even make you drunk.” Zhou Jibai sat calmly, her tone steady.

Song Ming choked on her words. She turned her face away, took a deep breath, and leaned back into her chair to create distance. She raised a hand in a “stop” gesture. “There’s no point in talking about this. Let’s get to business. What did you call me here to discuss?”

Zhou Jibai sat in her chair with a very composed expression: “Collaboration.”

“What?” Song Ming frowned. “Us?”

“Yes.”

Leaning against her seat, the awkwardness that had been lingering around Song Ming vanished. Her eyes became clear and sharp. “We are people who used to be… ‘involved’ with each other. If I recall correctly, Chairman Zhong guards against me more than he guards against a natural disaster. When President Zhou says she wants to collaborate with me, is she going against Chairman Zhong’s wishes?”

Zhou Jibai looked down, silent for a moment before saying, “I thought a collaboration only required both parties to provide benefits to each other. There’s no need to ask so many questions.”

Song Ming’s fingers tapped lightly on the armrest. “And what benefits can President Zhou provide?”

“Domestic capital injection completely unrelated to Songyun,” Zhou Jibai looked at Song Ming. “And… the founding designer of Boshen.”

Song Ming stared at Zhou Jibai in silence for a long moment. She suddenly remembered the scene when they broke up, how they both said harsh things, swearing they would never love each other again and would be enemies upon meeting.

“I’m sorry,” Song Ming stood up, the dessert in front of her untouched. “I don’t accept.”

Zhou Jibai remained calm; her expression didn’t even flicker. “Don’t you love annoying your elders or mine? What could possibly make both families more uncomfortable than this?”

Song Ming’s departure halted. She slowly turned back to look at Zhou Jibai. “…It seems two years has changed more than just me, President Zhou.”

On the other side of the ocean, the sky was already dark. An elite proxy, working overtime through the night, was still striving in front of a glowing screen for the boss’s assets.

The phone screen next to the mouse lit up. The proxy glanced at it and saw it was the boss, the one who had run away halfway through the report earlier.

The proxy was a bit moved. Perhaps the boss had finally remembered her massive fortune and decided to care about the operations.

The proxy happily opened the message, only to see one line: “Plan suspended. No need for the funds to flow in. The designer doesn’t need to come.” It hung coldly in the chat interface.

Proxy: “?!?!”

“Why?!” the proxy couldn’t help but wail.

Sitting in the restaurant, facing a table of desserts, Song Ming glanced at Zhou Jibai, who was quietly holding her teacup and sipping tea elegantly. She casually replied to the message:

“Probably… to live off a woman?”