Limited-Time Attachment - Chapter 43

Song Ming’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

Zhou Jibai stood a few paces away, just a few meters distance between them, lightly arching her beautiful eyes as she looked at Song Ming.

Everyone knew Zhou Jibai’s charm. Zhou Jibai herself, of course, knew it best. It was simply that she usually didn’t deign to spare anyone else a second glance.

She was doing it on purpose!

Song Ming turned her head away and took a deep breath, forcing a smile. She raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, my mistake, alright? Sister.”

Zhou Jibai gave her a light, sidelong glance before retracting her gaze and turning around. “If you really knew your place, you wouldn’t be using such reckless forms of address.”

Song Ming closed her eyes and silently gritted her teeth behind Zhou Jibai’s back.

“What is it?”

Zhou Jibai walked to the table and sat down. She looked up, sweeping a cold, indifferent gaze over Song Ming, and asked flatly.

“It’s nothing.” Song Ming’s face changed in a second, tilting her head and smiling like she was trying to be cute.

Zhou Jibai lowered her eyes and slowly crossed her legs. Her posture was alluring, her movements composed, every bit the image of a queen. “What did you bring back?”

The thermal container Song Ming had brought back was sitting on the table. Zhou Jibai scrutinized it critically from her seat. Song Ming glanced at her, silently chanting ‘I’m not angry’ in her mind as she walked over to open the containers one by one. “Just some late-night snacks.”

A light, delicate fragrance drifted out. It consisted of porridges and Chinese desserts that they both used to enjoy two years ago, along with side dishes that were light and easy to digest.

Zhou Jibai took a look, though her expression didn’t reveal whether she liked it or not.

“Thanks.”

Song Ming looked at Zhou Jibai, who sat there serenely waiting to be served, and felt very much like some favored eunuch at the foot of a queen’s throne.

“If Chen Shengrong gives up on pursuing charges against you, what is his attitude toward the engagement?” Zhou Jibai picked up the jade-white chopsticks Song Ming handed her, asking about official business in a natural tone.

Song Ming paused. Her gaze shifted away as she casually opened a bottle of plum wine she had bought on a whim. “What attitude does CEO Zhou hope he has?”

Zhou Jibai looked at Song Ming quietly.

Song Ming looked up to meet Zhou Jibai’s eyes. Holding her wine glass, she gave a small smile and answered her own question. “Of course, it’s most beneficial to you if he doesn’t give up on the engagement. That way, you can be extracted from the incident, after all, I’m the one ‘harassing and forcing’ you. Don’t worry, CEO Zhou, since I promised to help you resolve Chairman Zhong’s pressure, I won’t go back on my word. You can just sit back and watch me mess up your engagement for your sake.”

Zhou Jibai lowered her eyes. “Has he really not looked into the relationship between us?”

Song Ming tilted her head back and thought for a moment, laughing nonchalantly. “Who knows.”

Zhou Jibai didn’t press further, falling into quiet contemplation.

Completely abandoning the big picture, wanting the prize even more after being provoked… that certainly fit Chen Shengrong’s arrogant, rude, and overbearing personality.

“It looks like our cooperation has to continue,” Song Ming said, spreading her hands.

“Correct,” Zhou Jibai nodded, picking up a piece of pastry. “Then I’ll trouble President Song to take the upcoming work seriously.”

Song Ming: “…”

Huh?

In all her life, Song Ming had never worked a single serious day in an office.

Even back when she held a position at Songyun, scheming against the two idiots in the Song family for the title of ‘heir,’ she had been inconsistent at best. Waking up at 8:00 AM sharp to prepare for work was a first.

“What, are you dissatisfied?” Zhou Jibai pressed the elevator button, glancing at Song Ming from the corner of her eye as the latter stood slightly behind her.

Song Ming held a cup of coffee in one hand, her other hand stuffed into the pocket of her long black trench coat. Her tall, thin frame filled out the slightly loose clothes, she wore a grey V-neck casual shirt underneath, with a wide belt cinching her draped denim trousers and black boots on her feet. She looked casual yet unapproachable.

Hearing Zhou Jibai’s voice, Song Ming wiped the irritable expression from her face and gave a fake smile. “How could I be? I love working.”

As she spoke, Song Ming lowered her head slightly, meeting Zhou Jibai’s clear, light-brown eyes. The woman had applied thin eyeliner to the corners of her eyes, combined with the natural ‘hook’ of her gaze, it was enough to make one fall in and never want to look away.

For work hours, Zhou Jibai had deliberately chosen a specific style, a white suit jacket paired with a textured pearlescent collarless shirt and a brown pinstriped skirt. A single pearl hung from the top button of her shirt, resting quietly against her chest, exquisite but not flashy. Her entire being radiated a cold, detached, high and mighty aura.

Song Ming unconsciously curled her lips, her gaze subtly shifting in quality.

Zhou Jibai frowned slightly and gave a low warning: “Song Ming.”

Just then, the elevator doors opened. Zhou Jibai’s secretary was standing inside, looking a bit surprised at the two of them staring at each other.

“Tsk, I know.” Song Ming retracted her gaze and followed Zhou Jibai into the executive elevator.

The elevator’s decor matched the stylish, artistic vibe of an advertising company, black and white tiles divided by light and dark lines into irregular sections, creating a strong sense of space.

As soon as she entered, Song Ming leaned sloppily against the mirror-polished elevator wall and asked lazily, “So, where is this President Zhong who’s supposed to be my point of contact?”

Zhou Jibai didn’t answer. The secretary beside them hesitated before speaking up: “Well… President Zhong took the day off today.”

“Mom, why do I have to avoid that Song Ming?”

Zhong Xingzhou sat on the open balcony in front of the Zhong family’s old estate garden. Sitting beside him was Lin Zhenmian, who was currently trimming branches for a flower arrangement.

Two wicker chairs with soft cushions were placed around a small, dark brown circular table. Lin Zhenmian and Zhong Xingzhou sat opposite each other.

Lin Zhenmian wore a dark-toned long dress with a shawl draped over her shoulders, elegantly facing the vibrant flower branches on the table.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Lin Zhenmian said, her small scissors making a snip as she cut a branch. “You aren’t avoiding Song Ming, you are simply avoiding risk.”

Zhong Xingzhou propped up his head, slumping dejectedly onto the table. “What does that mean, Mom? Who is the risk? Isn’t that Song Ming just one of Zhou Jibai’s flings? What’s so great about her? It was one thing when she had Songyun behind her, but now she’s out on her own with only that tiny company, Boshen. She even needs Jiaxin’s capital injection, what’s so special about her?”

Lin Zhenmian frowned and glanced at Zhong Xingzhou. “Weren’t you home when that Southeast Asian man came to talk to your father? You saw how terrible your father’s face looked after he left.”

Zhong Xingzhou froze for a moment.

“In the past,” Lin Zhenmian returned her attention to the flowers, “if Zhou Jibai had dared to cause your father such trouble, she would have been summoned back to the old estate long ago. But now? To this day, your father hasn’t shown any intention of calling her here. This means even your father hasn’t decided what to do. You shouldn’t get involved, be careful not to get reprimanded by your father for doing something wrong.”

Zhong Xingzhou had only recently finished his business studies at a university abroad. During the two years Song Ming was running wild at the Songyun Group, he hadn’t been in the country at all, so he didn’t know much about her. Hearing Lin Zhenmian speak this way, he sat up a bit straighter and asked skeptically, “Is it really that serious?”

“Of course it is.” Even facing her own son, Lin Zhenmian couldn’t help but frown. “You should learn to be more cautious. Speaking of which, Song Ming is about your age. Her performance as a market manipulator at Songyun was far more brilliant than your performance in the classroom.”

Hearing this, Zhong Xingzhou turned his head away impatiently. He curled his lip where Lin Zhenmian couldn’t see and muttered under his breath, “What’s so great about her? Why praise an outsider like that?”

Two sides of Zhou Jibai’s office were one way glass walls, making the room very bright.

Song Ming, the “masterful market manipulator” Lin Zhenmian had described, was currently slumped sideways on a white lambskin sofa, holding a file. Against the backdrop of the skyscrapers outside, she had one leg crossed, the tip of her black shoe catching a small glint of light.

“CEO Zhou, you’re really only giving this much money?”

Song Ming looked at Zhou Jibai, her lazy tone as clingy and soft as if she were flirting.

Already used to Song Ming’s behavior, Zhou Jibai’s pen only paused for a moment before she said without looking up, “How much more do you want? Do you want me to just buy Boshen outright?”

“That’s not out of the question,” Song Ming laughed heartlessly. She thought for a second and then joked, “Or I could just give it to you.”

Zhou Jibai frowned and looked up as if to ask something, but before she could speak, there were two knocks on the office door.

They both looked over. It was Wu Chen.

Song Ming’s brow furrowed instantly, her tone hardening. “You have business?”

Wu Chen still had that same gloomy face. He glanced at Song Ming before looking at Zhou Jibai. “I just heard President Song say she’s giving Boshen to you, so who exactly is the boss of Boshen right now?”

Song Ming: “…”

Song Ming was truly fed up. She finally understood why Wu Chen, despite his extraordinary talent, had ended up on such bad terms with his previous boss.

“Don’t just listen in when the bosses are talking, okay?” Song Ming said.

Wu Chen ignored her and kept looking at Zhou Jibai.

“Her.” Zhou Jibai pointed her pen cap at Song Ming, likewise not giving Wu Chen a second glance.

Song Ming: “…”

Wu Chen looked at Song Ming and actually let out an “oh.” “I’m here to talk about the new orders. Some of my high-society friends from abroad saw my recent drafts and are looking forward to my new work. If it goes smoothly, I can completely regain my reputation. There’s just one thing. I hope the intellectual property lawsuit can be won. Otherwise, I can’t produce the finished products in time. No creator wants to create while carrying a stigma.”

Song Ming leaned back into the sofa, her expression unfeeling and her voice cold. “Put your heart back in your chest. What was promised to you will not change.”

Wu Chen glanced at Zhou Jibai again, she offered no reaction.

“Alright,” Wu Chen replied. “Then I have nothing else.”

Having said his piece, Wu Chen walked toward the office door. Just as he pulled it open, he suddenly turned back and said in a flat, monotone voice:

“Oh, right. If you two are going to flirt, it’s better to pick after work hours. Even if you two aren’t working, others still have to.”

The two people in the office froze simultaneously. Song Ming abruptly put her crossed leg down and sat up straight, staring at the matter of fact Wu Chen. She wanted to lose her temper but couldn’t, feeling a strange, subtle sense of guilt.

Wu Chen stared back at Song Ming with his “dead fish” eyes, waiting for her response.

Song Ming only felt her head begin to ache. She raised a hand to rub her brow and, through gritted teeth, squeezed out a low command:

“Get out.”