Pharmaceutical Negotiator - Chapter 24

It was Sunday afternoon. Qi An changed into light sportswear and took the bus to the gym.

The weather was still stiflingly hot. Perhaps because she’d grown up in Qingdao, she was used to the coolness of seaside cities. Beijing, by comparison, felt like a furnace.

Before she left, Zhang Sitan had handed her a thermos cup and told her to drink more water.

The pink thermos was filled with warm water. It had a strap, so Qi An could carry it easily.

The gym was located in a rather remote area, surrounded by tall dawn redwoods. Their long branches reached toward the sky, and their green leaves filled the remaining gaps, so from afar, only the top of the gym could be seen.

Luo Murong had asked her to come play badminton with Zou Le, without even asking whether she could play. Luckily, Qi An had taken badminton for a year in college P.E., so she knew the basics.

When she arrived, a young man stopped her at the entrance. Qi An glanced inside and spotted Luo Murong.

“I have a friend in there,” she said.

Luo Murong waved her over, and the young man let her in.

Zou Le was also dressed in sportswear white pants and breathable sneakers giving off a lively vibe.

She had just played several rounds with Luo Murong and was already warmed up, her arm wrapped with a wristband. She turned as Qi An walked in.

Previously, Zhang Sitan had told Qi An to call her “Sister Le,” but now that Zou Le was Luo Murong’s girlfriend, “Aunt Zou” would technically be more appropriate. At dinner last time, Qi An had hesitated over how to address her.

Fortunately, Zou Le had told her directly: just call her “Sister Le.”

“Sister Le,” Qi An greeted crisply, setting her water bottle down on the bench.

“Qi An, you’re here,” Zou Le replied with a smile, motioning for Luo Murong to hand over the racket.

Luo Murong, relieved, plopped down on the bench, legs wide apart, and gulped down water.

Qi An raised her racket, ready to serve, but Zou Le stopped her and told her to warm up first.

After loosening her shoulders and neck, Qi An took her stance again.

Her posture was proper, her big bright eyes full of focus she looked serious and composed.

Zou Le smiled slightly, pleased that Qi An wasn’t slacking just because of her status. She bent forward, ready to receive.

“Go ahead,” Zou Le called.

Qi An swung, sending the shuttlecock into the air.

The white feathered ball drew a graceful arc over the net, only to be lofted back by Zou Le.

Zou Le’s shot was high and far. Qi An stepped backward, trying to reach it, but it still fell to the floor.

“Again,” Zou Le said.

“Okay.” Qi An picked up the shuttle and served again.

At first, their rhythm was off they weren’t used to each other’s pace or technique but after a few rounds, they started syncing up.

The gym’s ceiling was high, and a floor air conditioner hummed in the corner, but the space was too large for effective cooling.

Sweat beaded on Qi An’s forehead. She kept swinging, jumping, her throat dry from thirst.

Zou Le didn’t call for a break, so Qi An didn’t dare to stop either.

Finally, after missing several shots in a row, Zou Le halted the game, panting. “Let’s rest a bit.”

Qi An placed her racket by the bench and sat down beside Luo Murong.

Bottles of water were scattered on the floor. Luo Murong opened one and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” Qi An took it and gulped greedily.

Once she stopped moving, her sweat seemed to flow even faster. She undid her hair tie and re-tied her loosened ponytail.

Zou Le stood across from them, hands on her hips, drinking water. When she finished, she looked at the two seated before her with a kind smile.

Qi An accidentally met her gaze and quickly looked away, pretending to drink. Her heart started to race.

From Zou Le’s perspective, Qi An and Luo Murong made a fitting couple but she was only pretending. She couldn’t let Zou Le think otherwise.

Just as she was about to stand up, she heard Zou Le say, “It’s too hot. Go buy some ice cream.”

“What?!” Luo Murong groaned. He wasn’t even sweating, leisurely scrolling on his phone. “This place is in the middle of nowhere! Where am I supposed to find ice cream?”

“There must be a shop somewhere. Go look,” Zou Le said, giving him a push.

Grumbling, he finally got up and left.

As soon as he was gone, Zou Le sat down in his spot and turned to Qi An.

“Having fun?”

“Mm!” Qi An nodded, dabbing sweat from her neck with a soft wet tissue the kind Zhang Sitan had packed for her.

“I sent that rascal away because I wanted to talk to you,” Zou Le said.

“Ah.” Qi An immediately understood the ice cream errand was just an excuse. Her guard went up; she feared Zou Le would quiz her about the fake relationship.

“You and Xiao Rong are just pretending to date, right?” Zou Le’s tone was gentle, not accusing.

Qi An’s eyes widened. She didn’t know whether to admit it or deny it maybe Zou Le was testing her.

Seeing her hesitation, Zou Le chuckled and gently wiped the sweat from Qi An’s nose with a tissue.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to hide it from me. That rascal has pulled this trick several times. I know he just wants me to give him that big Cherokee.”

Qi An blinked nervously. “You knew?”

“Of course. Xiao Rong’s too playful,” Zou Le sighed, taking Qi An’s hand. “I don’t expose him because, honestly, it gives me an excuse to see him. You see today without you as the pretext, I might barely see him once a year.”

Qi An sighed too. “I’m sorry, Sister Le.”

“Oh, don’t be. I should be thanking you! If not for you, he wouldn’t have come to play today.”

“And…” Zou Le’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “There’s another reason I didn’t expose you.”

“What reason?”

“Because of your Captain Zhang.”

Zhang Sitan! Qi An froze she didn’t understand what Sitan had to do with it.

“This is the first collaboration between Qidong and the Medical Insurance Bureau,” Zou Le explained. “It’s also Xiao Rong’s first real management project. We all know your Captain Zhang’s reputation since you’re working closely with her, I’m sure you’ve learned a lot. That’s why I wanted to talk to you today.”

She added, “If Xiao Rong trusts you enough to bring you in, then I trust you too. Keep an eye on him for me, will you?”

“That’s… it?” Qi An asked blankly.

“That’s all,” Zou Le smiled. Despite her youthful looks, a few fine lines appeared at the corners of her eyes when she laughed.

“I thought our collaboration was about to fall through,” Qi An admitted, relieved.

“Hahaha! No way. It’s a win-win partnership. If that brat dared mess it up, he’d never hear the end of it.”

They chatted and laughed together, and Qi An relaxed.

There was one detail Zou Le didn’t mention: back when they’d visited Director Zhang’s home, she’d noticed Zhang Sitan had her own pair of slippers there a sign of deep trust. If someone earned Zhang Sitan’s favor, they must be exceptional.

That was why Zou Le didn’t expose Qi An she didn’t want to embarrass her.

When Luo Murong returned with ice cream, they played a few more rounds before wrapping up.

He offered to drive Qi An home, while Zou Le’s driver picked her up.

“Are you going home after dropping me off?” Qi An asked in the car, remembering Zou Le’s words.

“Nope, I’ve got dinner plans with friends,” Luo Murong replied, giving her a strange look.

“Oh.” Qi An fidgeted with her seatbelt, trying to find the right words. “You should eat dinner at home more often.”

Luo Murong turned to her, incredulous. “What’s gotten into you? Did my mom say something? She didn’t figure out you’re faking, did she?”

Out of his barrage of questions, Qi An picked one to answer. “No.”

Her meek expression made him laugh. Still chuckling, he honked lightly as they rounded a corner.

Inwardly, Qi An rolled her eyes at him. “Your mom said she barely sees you these days. Your friends are with you all the time, but your parents are the ones who really matter. Can’t you eat with them once in a while?”

“Be careful, before it’s too late to regret,” she muttered.

“Hey, don’t jinx me like that!” Luo Murong snapped, his Beijing accent slipping out in his fluster.

Qi An rolled her eyes again. “Fine, fine, I take it back.”

“Good thing you’re not my real girlfriend you’re way too bossy.”

Qi An glared at him again, and he finally gave up, laughing. “Alright, alright, I’ll go home.”

When they arrived, it was still early. Qi An had already messaged Zhang Sitan, so she went to the gatehouse to pick up the takeout.

Zhang Sitan had ordered two meals, knowing she’d be back.

Qi An entered using her fingerprint, kicked off her shoes, dropped the takeout on the coffee table, and flopped onto the sofa. “I’m exhausted!”

From the bedroom, Zhang Sitan poked her head out with a look of disdain. “You’re all sweaty. Go shower, you little gremlin.”

Qi An sprang up and dashed to the bathroom. By the time she came out, Zhang Sitan had already started eating.

“You didn’t wait for me!” Qi An cried indignantly, plopping down beside her.

“I waited, I waited,” Zhang Sitan said in a mock-patient tone, like soothing a child. “So, how was badminton with Zou Le today?”

“Pretty good,” Qi An replied, lowering her voice. “Sister Le knows I’m pretending.”

“Mm.” Zhang Sitan remained calm, taking another bite.

“You’re not surprised?!” Qi An gaped.

“Zou Le’s sharp,” Zhang Sitan said lightly. “You and Luo Murong are both too obvious.”

“You’re calling me dumb?” Qi An pouted. “Well, she actually praised me! She told me to keep an eye on Luo Murong.”

“And I did he was going to go party tonight, but I talked him out of it.” Qi An looked proud.

Zhang Sitan burst out laughing, eyes crinkling with mirth.

“That’s good,” she said warmly, smiling at Qi An’s simple happiness.

Later, when they were getting ready for bed, Qi An whined for a leg massage.

Zhang Sitan sighed and obliged, sitting up and kneading Qi An’s calf with her fingers and thumb.

“What kind of boss does this cooks for you, massages you, and even shares her bed?”

“Exactly,” Qi An giggled. “No one else like you.”

Zhang Sitan’s pressure was firm, almost painful, yet oddly soothing.

Qi An stretched her leg closer, eyes closed, smiling widely.

Noticing her grin, Zhang Sitan pressed even harder.

Qi An’s lashes trembled like dark waterfalls; her brows lifted slightly.

“Ah! Sitan-jie, gentler!” she yelped, eyes glistening with mock tears too endearing for her own good.

Zhang Sitan didn’t relent, her hand muscles tightening like coiled dragons.

Qi An sat up halfway, pouting but not stopping her, just letting out soft groans.

Hearing the little sounds, Zhang Sitan arched a brow, amusement flickering in her eyes.

“You’re awful, Sitan-jie,” Qi An whimpered playfully.

Zhang Sitan checked her expression seeing no real pain and chuckled, pressing harder still.