Song Hengjue's aura softened considerably. He went to the front desk to pick up the chestnut pastries he had ordered, strode outside, and answered Yang Qingheng's call as he did so.

…………

"How was it? Did you get the shot?" Qiao Xihe returned to the private room where a man wearing a hat and mask was already sitting.

"Got it. Two hundred yuan, not a penny less." The man tossed the photo to her.

Qiao Xihe looked at the photo of her and Song Hengjue and nodded in satisfaction. She took out some money from her bag and gave it to him, but felt a surge of heat throughout her body and her scalp tingled.

Damn, the pastries from earlier worked!

His expression changed, he grabbed the photo and ran outside, shouting at the driver, "Get to the nearest hospital right now!"

company.

Song Hengjue followed closely behind Yang Qingheng: "Qingheng, are you thirsty? How about I massage your shoulders?"

He kept talking non-stop all day long, going to great lengths to get her attention.

Yang Qingheng took a deep breath: "Song Hengjue, can you shut your mouth? And stop following me, okay? Go back to your own company, you're so annoying."

"But I want to follow you." Song Hengjue looked at her expectantly. Ever since the day they had a fight, he had been like this, never stopping.

"Fine, you'll follow me then. Come in." Yang Qingheng sneered and walked straight into the restroom.

Song Hengjue then realized what the woman wanted to do, his face turned bright red, and he fled in panic, stammering, "I'll wait for you in the office."

Yang Qingheng chuckled, casually grabbed a newspaper from the side, and went into the toilet.

Song Hengjue also took a copy to take back to his office to pass the time, but he was startled when he saw the photo on the cover.

The president of Boxiang Company and Miss Qiao are behaving intimately, suggesting a happy event is imminent.

The analysis below is listed one by one, from the clothes the two were wearing to where they had appeared together.

Seeing the two of them exchanging smiles and gazing at each other intimately, Song Hengjue would have believed it was true if he didn't know how much he loathed Qiao Xihe.

The thought that he was portrayed by these unscrupulous media outlets as Qiao Xihe's lapdog made Song Hengjue feel as if he had swallowed a fly, and he almost vomited up his dinner from the night before.

He knew without even thinking who was behind it.

Remembering that Yang Qingheng had just taken an identical newspaper, Song Hengjue's expression changed, and he suddenly pushed open the bathroom door.