Song Hengjue was breathing heavily when he slammed his head against the bedside table.

The next morning, as I drove past the entrance of the residential area, I saw the old man guarding the gate waving at me from afar.

Song Hengjue paused, then rolled down the car window: "What is it?"

"Mr. Song, this man says he needs to see you. He's been here all morning, and we can't get rid of him." The old man said helplessly.

Secretary Qian glanced at the car and nodded slightly to Song Hengjue: "Hello, Mr. Song, I have some personal matters to discuss with you privately?"

"I'm not talking." Song Hengjue didn't recognize the person in front of him and assumed it was another factory manager looking for a collaboration.

He slightly raised his dark eyes, then looked away indifferently.

Several people like this come every day, so the gatekeeper was used to it. He forcefully pushed Secretary Qian backward and said, "Alright, alright, Mr. Song doesn't want to talk to you. Get out of here and don't interfere with my work."

Secretary Qian, who was always on top of the world following Tang Bainian, was furious at being treated so rudely for the first time. However, his good manners prevented him from retaliating. Before Song Hengjue closed the car window, he spoke clearly: "Mr. Song, I would like to talk to you about Mr. Yang's matter."

Song Hengjue slammed on the brakes, the car window rolled down abruptly, and repeated, "You mean Yang Qingheng?" He looked closely at Secretary Qian's face and finally remembered where he had seen her before.

This is the person standing next to Tang Bainian when he was advertised in the newspaper.

His tone inexplicably carried a guilty feeling, like someone caught cheating by the wife. Going into someone else's wife's room, even though it wasn't his initiative, wasn't exactly something to be proud of.

Secretary Qian smiled but remained silent, not deigning to say another word to Song Hengjue.

A male model who relies on his looks to please women is probably not even as valuable as a dog to Yang Qingheng; he's just a commodity waiting to be sold.

He glanced indifferently at the car Song Hengjue was driving, inwardly mocking him.

This car was probably a gift from Yang Qingheng. It seems he's quite skilled; otherwise, Yang Qingheng wouldn't have been so generous.

"Get in the car." Song Hengjue's eyes darted around, completely oblivious to the man's attitude.

The car drove through several streets and stopped in a small alley.

"What do you want to say to me?" Song Hengjue turned around.

He had imagined that Secretary Qian would point at his nose and call him a shameless mistress, and he had also imagined that Secretary Qian would threaten him, saying that Tang Bainian would be furious and would not let him off. But he never expected that the man in front of him would actually take out a handful of banknotes from his briefcase and throw them on the seat.

"Once you leave the capital, this money is yours."

Song Hengjue: ...?

He pointed at the money, then at his own nose: "You mean me?"

“Mr. Song, greed is like a snake trying to swallow an elephant,” Secretary Qian thought he was looking down on the five thousand yuan. “You must have heard about what kind of person Mr. Yang’s husband is. We, the deputy director, can let bygones be bygones about what happened yesterday, but if you continue to cling to Mr. Yang like this, we can make sure you can’t stay in Beijing.”

This is truly eye-opening, like a small knife pulling out a butt.

Song Hengjue never imagined that he would be paid off one day.

But... why does this secretary seem so skilled at doing this?

He stared at the stack of money, narrowed his eyes, and a mocking smile suddenly appeared on his lips.

Yang Qingheng is a woman who can't change her ways; she can't shake her bastard habit of cheating, whether in her past life or this one.

Thinking about the chaotic life the couple would lead in the future, he suddenly became interested. He raised an eyebrow at Secretary Qian and said provocatively, "Yang Qing doesn't know you're paying off her lover, does she? Tell me, what if I tell her..."

"Don't be so stubborn! If you don't know what's good for you, I'll have all sorts of ways to make you disappear from the capital tomorrow!" Secretary Qian's expression changed; he hadn't expected to encounter someone who didn't understand the situation.

Song Hengjue curled his lips and pointed out of the car: "Then let's wait and see whether I disappear first or your Deputy Director Tang bows his head first."

I've never seen such a self-righteous mistress!

Secretary Qian gritted her teeth, slammed the car door shut, and strode away.

Back in his office, he immediately dialed Tang Bainian's number: "Deputy Director Tang?"

"explain."

The matter hadn't been handled well, and Secretary Qian's voice was weak: "I went to find him, but that man is hard to deal with. He said he wants to stay by Madam's side, probably hoping to get more benefits from her."

There was a moment of silence in the conference room. The people below looked up and were startled to see Deputy Director Tang's suddenly cold face.

Tang Bainian waved his hand, signaling them to continue, and took his phone to the balcony.

As soon as he left, the conference room erupted in chaos, with several of his men whispering among themselves.

"Who called? I've never seen the deputy director look so pale. Could something serious have happened?"

"It's probably because of the building collapse in the city center a couple of days ago. That shoddy construction killed several people, so it's no wonder that Deputy Director Tang is acting like this when he sets off."

"No, no, it shouldn't be like this. It's been several days already, and everything was fine yesterday."

"Just ask Secretary Qian and you'll find out."

...

For the entire day, the atmosphere around Tang Bainian was terrifyingly tense, and everyone only breathed a sigh of relief at the end of the workday.

Even Yang Qinghou noticed it, put down her rice bowl and looked at him: "Bainian, what's wrong with you today? You seem absent-minded."

Tang Bainian was taken aback, and his tense expression softened unconsciously: "I accidentally brought work-related matters home, and I'm sorry for making you worry."

“We don’t need to be so formal. Nobody’s in a good mood every day,” Yang Qingheng said with a generous laugh. “But there’s no use worrying about work at home. You need to get some rest, otherwise you won’t have the energy to deal with it tomorrow.”

I used serving chopsticks to put a piece of stewed beef on his plate.

"Hmm," Tang Bainian nodded, naturally turning his head to look at her, "I heard you bought a car recently?"