Just as Qiao Xihe was about to step in to smooth things over, the man who was about to leave suddenly turned around, pulled out a handkerchief from somewhere, wiped it hard on Yang Qingheng's shoes twice, and then threw the handkerchief away in a fit of anger. He stood up and gritted his teeth, saying, "Miss Xu, is this alright now?"

A hint of vengeful pleasure flickered in Yang Qingheng's eyes. She glanced at him briefly and nodded, "Young Master Pan's skills are quite good; he has a lot of talent."

These words didn't sound like a compliment, but the woman in front of him was clearly in a good mood.

Pan Changshu gritted his teeth in anger, while Pan Zhen breathed a sigh of relief, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and smiled ingratiatingly at Yang Qingheng: "Thank you for liking my son, Miss Xu. Judging from your accent, you don't seem to be a local."

“Yes, I’m from Haicheng,” Yang Qingheng leaned back on the sofa, relaxed and composed, yet exuding confidence. “My family has some business overseas. As an only child, my dad said that the family’s money needs to be inherited, so he sent me to Beijing to test the waters. I’m thinking of starting a tech company with three million. What do you think, Mr. Pan?”

"How much did you say?!" Pan Zhenhu's body trembled, he sat up straight, and nervously swallowed.

Yang Qingheng touched her hair innocently: "Isn't three million enough? Then how much more do you think Mr. Pan should add?"

"Enough, of course it's enough!" Pan Zhen's cold sweat hadn't even dried yet when he was so excited that he broke out in another sweat. "Miss Xu, I've been doing business in Beijing for several years now. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I'll do my best to help you."

"Then I'll have to trouble you, Mr. Pan." Yang Qingheng raised her chin.

Song Hengjue looked at the woman in front of him who was lying without batting an eye, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

One dares to speak, the other dares to believe.

“Oh, right, I heard you’re going to cooperate with Hengjue. He has good taste. In that case, Mr. Pan, how about we sign a cooperation agreement? Your monthly metal supply will be twice that of Hengjue’s. What do you think?” Yang Qingheng’s eyes flashed.

Song Hengjue was surprised that she wanted to do it herself. After a moment of silence, he suddenly regretted bringing her in.

Opportunity to claim credit - 1

Pan was shocked and overjoyed, almost stammering, "Ms. Xu, thank you for thinking so highly of me. Of course, we can sign the contract tomorrow."

“Okay, let’s meet at the Baihe Hotel tomorrow. Mr. Pan, remember to come and sign the contract.” Yang Qingheng nodded.

Immersed in the joy of unexpected wealth, the two men in front of them were completely unaware that something was amiss.

Qiao Xihe felt something was off, but couldn't figure it out, so she kept quiet.

Song Hengjue wouldn't lie; someone who commands such respect and flattery from him must be someone of high status.

After seeing the others off, Yang Qingheng disdainfully ripped off her mask and was about to take off her coat when she saw the man shivering in front of her. She scoffed inwardly and simply zipped up her coat.

Completely oblivious, Song Hengjue found the waiter and said, "Take all of this away and bring me a serving of Eight Treasure Duck, Peking Duck, Tremella Soup, and Eggplant with Sauce..."

A whole bunch of dishes were presented, and Yang Qingheng recognized them as her favorites. But she didn't give them any face, stood up, waved her hand, and said, "No need, I can't eat while looking at you." Then she walked towards the front desk.

Mu Huihe liked the Eight Treasure Duck at this restaurant, so she decided to bring one back to make the old lady happy.

Song Hengjue was hurt by her disdainful tone. He strode after her, hesitated for a few seconds, and a dark light flashed in his dark eyes.

He took out his phone and made a call: "Slash Yang Qingheng's car with the skull logo, quick, right now."

"No, brother, I dare not." Fang Nan shivered and refused firmly.

Given how ruthless that woman is, if she found out, she could strip her naked and throw her into the street.

Three hundred yuan.

Fang Nan rubbed his hands together: "It's no big deal, I'll send someone over right away."

Song Hengjue smiled triumphantly, half-stuffed his hands in his pockets, and strolled leisurely toward Yang Qingheng, in an exceptionally good mood.

However, his true form was revealed as soon as he stepped out of the restaurant.

...It's so cold.

The others cast surprised glances at them.

Despite the freezing weather, some people were dressed even less warmly than the beggars outside.

Several receptionists in the restaurant also looked over.

Song Hengjue's expression was stiff. He straightened his collar, pressed down hard on his trembling legs, and strode after Yang Qingheng.

From a distance, you could see the woman talking to the driver; she didn't look well.

It's done!

Song Hengjue smiled knowingly, straightened his collar, walked up with his hands behind his back, his brow furrowed: "Is your car broken down? It'll probably take a long time to fix it. It's freezing cold, it'll freeze if you stay outside all the time. My car is nearby, why don't you ride in mine first?"

Yang Qingheng crossed her arms, looked him up and down, and asked impatiently, "Song Hengjue, what exactly do you want?"

“My requirements are very low,” Song Hengjue thought she had really taken the bait and was smug. He leaned against the car and tugged at his collar to reveal half of his collarbone. “I’ll take you home. You’re not allowed to avoid me like you used to.”

"You've got quite the nerve," Yang Qingheng said, surprised that this person actually dared to make a request, and a hint of mockery appeared on her face.

Song Hengjue smiled smugly: "What can we do? I'm the only one here who can help you."

Yang Qingheng stroked her chin and nodded, as if considering the feasibility of the matter.

With his love life and career progressing like never before, Song Hengjue could no longer suppress the smile on his lips. He pressed his fist to his lips, trying his best to hold it in, afraid that Yang Qingheng in front of him would notice.

“It is indeed a good deal,” Yang Qingheng slowly approached, and just as the smile on Song Hengjue’s face grew wider, she sneered, “But why should I agree to it?”

After saying that, the driver in the car slowly pulled the handbrake.

Song Hengjue was shocked and grabbed Yang Qingheng's hand tightly: "The wheels are broken and you still dare to get on the car? Are you out of your mind?"

Yang Qingheng was baffled, but finally realized something was wrong: "How did you know it was a broken wheel? Did you puncture it?"

"How could I do such a despicable thing? I... I guessed." He refused to let go no matter what.

Having lived with him for over twenty years, Yang Qingheng knew what tricks he was up to the moment he bent over. She kicked him hard in the shin and said, "You little brat, you're asking for a beating, aren't you?"

Song Hengjue, with her neck stiff and defiant, retorted, "Do you have any evidence to prove that I did it, Yang Qingheng? This is slander, and now you're launching a personal attack against me!"

Upon hearing Song Hengjue's words, the driver jumped out of the car in a panic: "You're spreading rumors. I've been guarding this car here the whole time. No one would dare to puncture my car."

Yang Qingheng's initial requirement for him was to check the vehicle's equipment before each trip. If someone punctured the tires and he didn't notice, wouldn't that be accusing him of lacking professional ethics?

What if Yang Qingheng fires him in a fit of anger?

Yang Qingheng raised an eyebrow, and the atmosphere became tense.

Suddenly, an angry shout came from the side: "You little brat, how dare you puncture my tires! I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget!"

The group looked over there and, upon recognizing the two people arguing, fell silent for a moment.

Song Hengjue: ...

There's something I'm not sure if I should say.