A few hundred yuan is enough to send him to provoke that plague Yang Qingheng. He's not an idiot.

Yang Qingheng was completely unaware of the farce that had unfolded at Song Hengjue's home; otherwise, she would have ridiculed Song Hengjue even more.

The next morning, fully armed, I headed straight to the hotel.

Sure enough, upon opening the door to the private room, one could see Pan Zhen and his son, along with Song Hengjue standing nearby.

"Come here." The man stood up and patted the sofa next to him.

Yang Qingheng looked him up and down, feeling that something was off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

“Knowing that Miss Xu is from Hainan Province and doesn’t like the food in Beijing, I specially asked a famous chef to make some local specialties for you. Would you like to try them?” Pan Zhenmou tried his best to please her.

Yang Qingheng raised an eyebrow, glanced at the dishes in front of her, and said impatiently, "Since you're here to discuss cooperation, don't waste my time. Just sign the contract."

Pan Zhen looked embarrassed.

Song Hengjue nodded, took the documents prepared by Pan Zhen, looked at them carefully twice, and then signed his name.

Pan Zhen, standing to the side, looked at the two contracts in front of him, his face flushed with excitement, especially after seeing Yang Qingheng's contract.

Several thousand tons—he had never seen such a large order before.

Yang Qingheng raised an eyebrow: "Mr. Pan, do you perhaps think my offer is too low? If so, then I..."

Stand up.

Pan Zhenhu was startled and quickly stopped her, shaking his head repeatedly, "No, no, of course not, I'll sign right away."

I hurriedly signed my name, afraid that she might change her mind at the slightest disagreement.

They've taken the bait.

Yang Qingheng's lips curled slightly beneath her mask as she exchanged a glance with the man beside her.

Song Hengjue's hand trembled, and the teacup in his hand clattered, soaking a part of the contract on the table. He quickly straightened the cup and apologized to Pan Zhen across from him, "Both contracts are wet, Mr. Pan. Let's reschedule for another day to sign them again."

"Sure, sure, according to your schedule." Pan Zhen was already dazzled by Yang Qingheng's thousands of tons of metal, so Song Hengjue's hundreds of tons were nothing to him. He waved his hand, completely unconcerned.

Yang Qingheng smiled slightly and picked up her handbag: "I have some things to attend to today, so I'll be leaving now. It was a pleasure working with you, Mr. Pan."

"Please, please. Miss Xu, let me see you off." Pan Zhen rubbed his hands together and smiled obsequiously.

"No need, Mr. Song will take me." Yang Qingheng shook her head and gave Song Hengjue a wink.

Pan Zhen assumed the young couple wanted to be alone and readily agreed.

As soon as the two left the hotel and closed the car door, Yang Qingheng hurriedly took off her cotton coat and mask, took a deep breath of the cool air, and felt refreshed.

She was so bored.

Song Hengjue chuckled, teasingly asking, "How did I perform today, Miss Hai Province?"

"Not bad." Yang Qingheng chuckled, looking at the contract in front of her, becoming more and more satisfied.

Qiao Xihe caused her to lose over 100,000 yuan, so she'll chop off one of her dog's legs.

Song Hengjue reached out and slowly grasped her contract, his Adam's apple bobbing: "I've helped you a lot, don't you even have a little something to say in thanks?"

His well-defined fingers pressed down on the contract, the bluish-purple veins rising slightly on the back of his fair hand, giving it an inexplicably erotic feel.

Yang Qingheng was silent for a moment, then looked up at him.

I got it.

Song Hengjue was overjoyed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Just as he was about to take it a step further, he heard a woman's hesitant voice in his ear: "...Song Hengjue, aren't you cold?"

Yang Qingheng finally understood why this man looked so strange today. While others wore cotton-padded coats or fur coats, he wore a suit with two buttons undone at the collar, his collarbone dangling in front of her eyes. He seemed to be from a completely different season.

Song Hengjue's face stiffened: "What did you say?" as if he couldn't believe his ears.

With such a fresh, healthy body right in front of her, how could she not be tempted? How could she not want to touch it?

"I said, aren't you cold?" Yang Qingheng gave him a disdainful look, she really didn't want to talk to him. He was so young and already hard of hearing, how come he's getting worse as he gets older?

Song Hengjue heard clearly this time. He turned his back and looked outside. It was chilly outside, and the snowflakes were blowing in the wind. He felt his heart was also chilly and shattered.

I'm so depressed I don't want to talk.

He touched his face, looked at his reflection in the window, and felt increasingly uncertain.

Is it because he hasn't been sleeping well lately and his looks have declined? Or has Yang Qingheng's aesthetic sense changed?

Thinking about the latter possibility, his heart sank.

Fang Nan looked through the rearview mirror at the indifferent Yang Qingheng behind him and Song Hengjue beside him, who wished he could crawl into the window, and almost burst out laughing.

That bastard, I never thought he'd get what he deserved!

He vented his anger and cast an admiring glance at Yang Qingheng.

However, his smugness lasted only a few seconds before his smile froze on his face, triggered by the injury Song Hengjue had sustained the previous night, and he gasped in shock.

Before the group even reached the courtyard, they could see Yao Ying standing on tiptoe outside, looking in their direction.

He watched Song Hengjue and Fang Nan get out of the car, and only breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Yang Qingheng.

"You've finally arrived. Come in, the soup is just ready."

Yang Qingheng stepped forward and took Yao Ying's arm: "Auntie, happy birthday."

"Oh! Oh!" Yao Ying exclaimed in surprise.

The meal was warm and pleasant, with everyone making a point of avoiding discussing their divorce. However, after the meal, Yang Qingheng's mood was not so pleasant.

Looking at the tree branches outside, swaying wildly in the wind, I suddenly felt a pang of regret.

"With such strong winds, you'd be blown away if you went outside. Your driver probably can't come to pick you up either. Why don't you stay at home for the night?" Yao Ying felt a little guilty thinking that Yang Qingheng was stuck here because of her birthday, but the thought of spending the night with her made her inexplicably happy.

Song Hengjue coughed lightly, showing his understanding: "Yes, I asked the housekeeper to prepare two guest rooms. You can stay there first. It's too windy and dangerous outside."