It's so startling, it's terrifying!

"Yes, is there a problem?" Fang Nan asked strangely as he filled his own bowl with rice.

What's the problem? It's a huge problem!

Song Hengjue was so anxious that he paced back and forth in the room.

"Stop, stop, stop! Don't go anywhere, you're making me dizzy," Fang Nan said, feeling that the rice in her bowl no longer tasted good. She slammed her chopsticks down and forcefully pressed him back into his seat. "What's wrong? Tell me!"

Song Hengjue's lips moved, as if he wanted to say something but stopped himself: "Don't you think Yang Qingheng doesn't like me that much?"

"You're crazy," Fang Nan thought it was something important, but after hearing it, she rolled her eyes at him and said irritably, "If she didn't like you, why would she clean up such a huge mess for you? I think you've been too idle lately, you should find a job."

He was annoyed by all the work at the company; it was thankless and exhausting. If Yang Qingheng didn't have any feelings for him, she would have left long ago.

"What if... what if..." Song Hengjue felt uneasy.

"What do you mean by 'what if'? You two are already together. If you don't feel secure, then get married. Do you think Yang Qingheng would object?" Fang Nan said. "Besides, I think you two have been together for so long, it's time to remarry."

A wealthy and recently divorced successful woman like her has countless admirers.

He had noticed when he worked at Yang Qingheng's company that some of the younger employees who were somewhat attractive would occasionally loiter outside Yang Qingheng's office.

Fang Nan swore he had never seen such a blatant look in his life.

In order to earn two salaries a month, he felt obligated to give Song Hengjue a good talking-to.

Song Hengjue's fingers trembled slightly, and he hesitated.

Fang Nan slammed his hand on the table: "Just listen to me, you won't go wrong. While you're still not fully recovered, if she doesn't agree later, you can put on a show of self-inflicted suffering, and she'll definitely agree."

"...That's not a good idea." Song Hengjue couldn't help but feel that something was off about what he said.

It feels like moral blackmail.

The next day, the company.

"President Yang, this is the initial handover result from Haili's side. Take a look, and then have President Song sign it." Li Nian knocked on the door and came in to sit down at the desk.

Yang Qingheng took it and looked at it carefully twice. After confirming that there was nothing wrong, she signed her name.

Li Nian hesitated, then finally frowned: "President Song isn't here?"

"It's the same if I sign it. What, do you think my signature doesn't count?" Yang Qingheng raised her eyes, her dark eyes showing no emotion, yet they made people feel inexplicably guilty, as if all their little thoughts were exposed in front of her.

Li Nian's eyes flashed, and he twitched the corners of his mouth: "That's not what I meant. I'm used to having President Song sign it, so I just didn't realize it at first."

"Is there anything else?" Yang Qingheng asked with a half-smile, grabbing her coat and standing up as if she were about to go out.

"Of course not." Li Nian smiled and followed her out the door.

As he watched Yang Qingheng's figure disappear into the elevator, the smile on his face faded, and his eyes stared intently in the direction of the elevator, lost in thought.

"President Li?" The assistant next to him approached cautiously.

Li Nian squinted: "Find two reliable people to follow Song Hengjue and record his recent itinerary and actions in detail, and report to me every day."

Things are getting more and more interesting.

Yang Qingheng had just stepped out of the company building when she spotted a familiar car. The next second, the car window slowly rolled down, and Song Hengjue's familiar face appeared before her.

"How did you get here?" A genuine smile appeared in her eyes as she opened the car door and got in.

"I want to have lunch with you." Song Hengjue's ears were burning, and he didn't know what to do with his hands and feet.

"Oh, you're being so clingy today," Yang Qingheng raised an eyebrow, glanced at her wrist—it was only 10:30. "It's not lunchtime yet. I need to go to the factory now. Want to come with me?"

Song Hengjue came here today for this very reason, so how could he let her have her way? He rubbed his stomach with his large, well-defined knuckles and said with a bitter face, "But I feel hungry. There are so many people in the company, why does the factory really need you to go? They're not useless."

Yang Qingheng sighed and hesitated before saying, "Why don't you go eat by yourself? I'm going to work at the factory for a while, and I'll come find you at the restaurant when I get back."

Song Hengjue's back stiffened, and he stammered, "No... that's not a good idea."

Even the driver in the front seat couldn't stand it anymore and pretended to be concerned: "President Song, just listen to President Yang. He hasn't eaten since this morning. If we wait until noon, his stomach will be starving."

"Didn't eat?" Yang Qingheng frowned, clearly nervous, and scolded, "Song Hengjue, don't you know your own physical condition? You're not even fully recovered yet, and you still dare to ruin yourself like this."

Song Hengjue was at a loss, feeling a sense of satisfaction at being noticed by her, but also a bit embarrassed by her cold expression.

The driver glanced at the rearview mirror and said earnestly, "I heard you and Secretary Fang say that there are people in charge of this factory. You are a big boss, why do you need to do such a small thing yourself? Just leave it to them. If you do everything yourself, are the people below you just there to eat and do nothing?"

It's really not a big deal.

Yang Qingheng was silent for a moment, then sighed, "Let's go to the restaurant."

Song Hengjue was surprised that things went so smoothly and secretly gave the driver a thumbs up.

The driver glanced at it for a second out of the corner of his eye and raised his chin.

When it comes to pursuing women, it depends on him.

"You said you were hungry, why are you eating so little?" Yang Qingheng frowned slightly as she looked at the almost untouched food on Song Hengjue's plate.

Song Hengjue clutched the small box in his hand, unsure of what to do with his hands and feet. His smile froze, and he kept glancing towards the back door out of the corner of his eye.

Realizing what had happened, she turned around and asked belatedly, "What did you say?"

"You won't even listen to me anymore." Yang Qingheng laughed in exasperation and grabbed his ear.

She had been treating him kindly these past few days because he was sick, but now he dares to be perfunctory with her. He's really gone too far.

A suppressed laugh came from not far away, strangely familiar.

Yang Qingheng was startled and looked over there. The restaurant had changed at some point. Pink petals were falling from the sky, which, against the blue theme of the restaurant, was dreamlike and unreal.