Limited-Time Attachment - Chapter 34

There was a pitiful lack of furniture in the house. Bright golden sunlight burst in unobstructed, illuminating a floor covered in sketches, mostly fashion manuscripts. Some were clear and pristine, while others were marked with large, red fluorescent “X”s.

Sitting in front of the sofa, Song Ming habitually ignored the mess scattered across the floor. She lowered her eyes and blew on the freshly brewed coffee in her white porcelain cup.

“So, you mean for me to return to Boshen now and work under this person?” Wu Chen said with a wooden expression as he placed another cup of coffee in front of Zhou Jibai.

Song Ming acted as if it were none of her business, ignoring Wu Chen entirely and leaving the negotiations to Zhou Jibai.

“Yes,” Zhou Jibai said. “President Song’s goal is to redevelop Boshen. She will handle the previous disputes.”

Wu Chen frowned. “And what about the development strategy? I don’t accept a boss who points fingers and micromanages.”

“Oh, you can rest easy on that,” Song Ming said casually, taking a sip of her coffee. “I only care about revitalizing the brand. I’m too lazy to interfere with style and design direction.”

Wu Chen stared into Song Ming’s eyes, asking seriously with a furrowed brow, “And what if the art isn’t enough to monetize?”

For a moment, Song Ming wanted to laugh. The last person she heard talking about “art, art, art” was Ji Shan.

“It doesn’t matter,” Song Ming turned her head to look at Zhou Jibai. “President Zhou is investing, after all.”

Hearing Song Ming kick the ball into his court, Zhou Jibai gave her an expressionless look.

Song Ming smiled and set her coffee cup down on the low table. “More importantly, I heard that ever since you had a falling out with your previous-previous boss, you’ve refused to deal with anyone. Many people in the industry have tried to invite you, yet you never budged. Why is it that you’re willing to agree just because President Zhou asked?”

Her words were pointed. Zhou Jibai’s expression darkened, and he shot her a frowning glare.

Wu Chen’s gaze shifted between the two of them again, looking somewhat puzzled. “Why are you asking that?”

Song Ming: “Curiosity.”

“Enough. He was my high school classmate,” Zhou Jibai said, putting down his porcelain cup and leaning back into the sofa.

High school classmates? Song Ming didn’t realize Zhou Jibai was such a sentimental person. Was a bit of friendship from high school really worth him remembering it until now?

Song Ming looked at Zhou Jibai, but he supported his cheek with his hand and looked the other way, not meeting her gaze. If she remembered correctly, Zhou Jibai hadn’t quite realized his interest in women early on. This Wu Chen couldn’t be… surely not?

“President Zhou, I assume you aren’t the type for ‘early love’ [school romance]?”

Silence fell over the room. Wu Chen, not understanding the context, was startled, his dull, drooping eyes widened slightly.

Just then, a timer went off in the kitchen. Wu Chen glanced at Song Ming, stood up, and walked into the kitchen.

Only Zhou Jibai and Song Ming remained in the living room. Zhou Jibai turned back to look directly at Song Ming. “Wasn’t it President Song who said we should only discuss cooperation? What is the meaning of asking these things now?”

Song Ming smiled. “Merely friendly concern. After all, I care whether the designer’s reason for returning to the company is reliable. I don’t want to get halfway through the process only for a mishap to occur and have the designer vanish again.”

“Then you needn’t worry. Wu Chen will not leave Boshen because of me,” Zhou Jibai answered coldly.

Song Ming said no more.

It was for the best if Wu Chen and Zhou Jibai had no such relationship. She didn’t want to personally kick out a designer she had just gone through the trouble of hiring.

Too much trouble.

Wu Chen returned from the kitchen shortly. Lacking any sense of social cues, he stood abruptly in front of the sofa and said to Song Ming, “Since you said President Zhou makes most of the decisions, I want to talk to him alone.”

“Fine.” Song Ming made a “suit yourself” gesture with her hand, got up, and strolled over to the balcony.

She and Zhou Jibai had wasted a lot of time driving over from the city center. In early autumn, the days grew dark earlier and earlier. By now, the horizon was filled with fiery evening clouds. A cool breeze was blowing, making it quite pleasant.

The voices behind her were faint. Wu Chen was indeed a stubborn, one track minded guy. Even if he went and had a sex change right now, he still wouldn’t fit Zhou Jibai’s aesthetic tastes. He was likely only kept in Zhou Jibai’s social circle because he was useful.

Zhou Jibai couldn’t stand the smell of smoke, so Song Ming took this opportunity to light a cigarette.

As the smoke entered her lungs, a pungent sense of relaxation spread. After Zhou Jibai had left, there was truly no one left to stop Song Ming from indulging in this habit. For a period, she had indeed smoked quite heavily.

However, she had restrained herself lately. The wind broke apart the smoke. Song Ming casually folded a tissue into a makeshift ashtray, her thoughts drifting aimlessly until she happened to think of a certain matter.

Currently, Zhong Zhengcheng was looking for a marriage alliance for Zhou Jibai, yet he couldn’t seem to give up the value Zhou Jibai brought. He first had his eldest son take over the international trade Zhou Jibai had managed while abroad, and then he stuffed his younger son into Jiaxin, the company Zhou Jibai had built with his own hands.

But how could there be such a good deal in the world where one family gets to have it all? Song Ming held her cigarette and let out a cold sneer. Insatiable greed.

The sunset gradually faded, and the crimson spark between Song Ming’s fingers glowed and dimmed.

“President Song.” Wu Chen poked his head out from the balcony door.

Song Ming turned around. “So, finished talking?”

“Finished,” Wu Chen replied listlessly.

Song Ming spread her hands. “And your thoughts?”

Wu Chen looked up at her. “I’ll cooperate with you and return to Boshen. The condition is that you must help me win the intellectual property dispute case.”

Song Ming smiled. “Deal.”

Zhou Jibai was waiting in the living room. Song Ming brushed past Wu Chen and returned to the house. “When are you coming to sign the contract?”

Wu Chen: “Next Monday.”

“Good.” Song Ming smiled and looked at Zhou Jibai. “Shall we go?”