Crisis and the Sword of the Heart

[Beijing Mu's Headquarters]

The autumn wind was chilly, but the atmosphere in the entire Mu's Building was even colder than the weather. The contractor's shoddy workmanship had finally come to light, prompting relevant authorities to investigate overnight, and public pressure followed. Although Mu's was not the direct contractor, it was thrust into the spotlight due to its brand and oversight responsibilities.

Mu Tianlang had barely left headquarters for days. Day and night stretched seamlessly together, meeting after meeting, documents piling up across the long table. The dark circles under his eyes were becoming increasingly prominent; he was like a taut bowstring, cold and unyielding. In the conference room, the air conditioning hummed oppressively, the rustling of papers was sharp and jarring. Someone whispered data, their voice trembling slightly, only to be interrupted by his cold "Recalculate." He merely clutched the coffee offered by his assistant, not even taking a sip. He checked every single piece of data, every single report, his tone oppressive. The higher-ups exchanged glances, but no one dared utter a word, fearing they would be the target of their questioning. The entire conference room was enveloped in this chilling atmosphere; everyone felt a heavy weight on their shoulders, as if a layer of frost were pressing down on them.

Someone muttered a complaint after the meeting, "At this rate, everyone's about to break down." But the words were barely out of their mouth when a colleague tugged at their sleeve, signaling them to shut up. Shareholders' calls came in incessantly, questioning, pressuring, and even threatening. The media camped outside the building, relentlessly pressing for answers; flashbulbs rained down on anyone who stepped out. The entire Murray Group was like a pressure cooker, ready to explode at any moment.

Jiang Rouyin's public relations firm was also mobilized to fully address media scrutiny and public opinion on social media. She shuttled between different meeting rooms, maintaining contact with the news media and developing response plans. These past few days, she has spent almost all her time at Mu's headquarters, holding meetings, facing reporters, and handling press releases alongside Mu Tianlang. To outsiders, they appear to be partners fighting side-by-side.

During a break in the meeting, Jiang Rouyin stopped him in the corridor, clutching a folder of documents, and said in a low voice, "Public sentiment has calmed down a bit today, and the focus has shifted from shoddy workmanship to assigning responsibility. I suggest that the timeline of the supervisor and third-party testing be made public by tonight, and I'll coordinate the media's reporting. The view from the rooftop has already been targeted, and I'll have the property management seal off the access route."

Mu Tianlang nodded: "Do it. Give the draft to the legal department first, and avoid using suggestive words in all titles. Thank you for your hard work."

Jiang Rouyin glanced at him and slowed her speech: "I don't get involved in things outside of public relations. You know I only handle frontline matters, not your private affairs."

His expression remained unchanged, and his voice was even more indifferent: "Business is business."

She hummed in agreement and handed over the folder: "Then I'll go and pressure the media first. I'll update the script for you later." With that, she turned and went into the next meeting room.

The eyes of the outside world are sharp, and those with ulterior motives seize the opportunity. Several photos taken from different angles were anonymously sent to Hu Li. In the pictures, Mu Tianlang and Jiang Rouyin appear to be standing side by side, talking in hushed tones. One photo even captures Mu Tianlang reaching out, as if to brush a stray hair from her face. The angles are tricky, and the atmosphere is ambiguous.

Hu Li's heart did clench for a moment as she looked at the photos. She wasn't an emotionless person, especially since the photos captured moments most prone to misunderstanding. But she quickly calmed down. With her keen eye for photography and composition, the framing and timing of these photos were too "coincidental." They were clearly not casual snapshots by passersby, but rather deliberately taken by someone who waited and chose the angle. Such "accuracy" and "coincidence" only made her more convinced that this was a setup.

Reason prevailed, but her emotions still stung. She disliked the feeling of being passively attacked, and she disliked the momentary wavering in her heart. She bit her lip, closed her phone, took a deep breath, and turned to go into the kitchen.

【Crescent Moon Cottage Kitchen】

She entered the kitchen, first tying on an apron and rolling up her sleeves. She opened the refrigerator and took stock: beef shank, carrots, onions, celery, chicken breast, and rye bread; everything she needed was taken out and arranged on the counter. She checked recipes on her phone, confirming the cooking times and proportions, then started stewing the beef shank, steaming the vegetables, pan-frying the chicken breast, and reheating the bread, labeling the oil, salt, and meal portions accordingly. The three pots on the stove sizzled and sizzled as she washed vegetables and wiped the countertop, her movements swift and efficient. As she chopped the vegetables, she thought about how he had been these past few days: his brow furrowed, his eyes sharp, his whole demeanor exuding a coldness. Thinking of this, her knife paused, a slight pang of sadness rising in her chest, yet a smile still lingered.

While packing, she specially wrote a small card, her handwriting lively yet earnest, and in the corner she even drew a little wolf and a little fox snuggling together:

—"Remember to feed my wolf. Foxes bite without a care in the world."

As she tucked the card into the insulated bag, she smiled, a smile tinged with amusement and a touch of bittersweetness. She knew this small gesture might not soothe all the pressure, but at least it would remind him that he wasn't alone.

[Evening at the main entrance of the Mu's Building in Beijing]

As soon as the car approached the curb, she saw a group of cameras and microphones crowded around the main entrance, with various station logos swaying on the microphones. Someone was adjusting the focus on a portable ladder, the lens scanning back and forth along the entrance like a sharp knife.

Hu Li pulled his hat brim down, picked up his phone, and dialed his assistant, Xiao Zhou: "This is Hu Li. I'm downstairs. There are a lot of reporters at the main entrance. How do I get in?"

Xiao Zhou's voice was very low, as if he were walking: "Ms. Hu, don't come in through the main entrance. Please drive directly to B3 underground, and take the staff elevator along the west side passage. I'll have security captain Liu wait for you at the B3 elevator entrance; he'll swipe a temporary visitor card. When you get to the 37th floor, wait for me in the break room; I'll come pick you up."

"Okay, thank you."

"Don't worry. Be careful on the road."

She responded, switched the location to the underground parking garage, bypassed the crowds and cameras, and disappeared into the shadows.

[Elevator in the Mu's Building, Beijing]

The office building was still brightly lit at night, with a few employees scattered in the elevator. Hu Li, holding an insulated bag, leaned against a corner. Just as the elevator doors were about to close, two young women from the general affairs department whispered to each other.

"Did you see it today? Xiao Wei said that the president and Miss Jiang were talking on the rooftop, and she accidentally bumped into them."

"Really? I heard the CEO even touched her face, how intimate!"

"Wow...they actually look quite well-matched."

The two got more and more excited as they talked: "Maybe they'll make it official soon."

"Xiao Wei also said that the president has been having almost all meetings with Miss Jiang lately, and they're also in the building at night. They seem to be very close."

"If that's true, it would be big news..."

One of them couldn't help but cover his mouth and chuckle, while the other's eyes gleamed, as if he had caught something exclusive. As the elevator ascended, no one noticed the person quietly clutching an insulated bag in the corner.

The elevator reached the upper floor, and Hu Li stepped out first. The carpet in the corridor swallowed her footsteps very lightly, and she only stopped at the door of the president's office, taking a deep breath. Although she knew rationally that Mu Tianlang would not easily cross the line, what she had "seen" and "heard" would still leave ripples in her heart.

[Beijing CEO's Office]

She knocked on the door. A cold voice came from inside: "The meeting is postponed. Put the documents on the table first." The tone was so icy that it was clear the person inside was the assistant.

Hu Li pushed open the door and entered, his footsteps light and crisp. "It's not documents, it's dinner."

Mu Tianlang looked up abruptly, his tightly clenched brows finally relaxing slightly. Upon seeing her, a flicker of surprise and a momentary tenderness crossed his eyes, but he quickly suppressed it. His voice remained low and husky: "Why are you here?"

Hu Li placed the insulated bag on the table and said in a light tone, "Let's see if my wolf is hungry."

He stared at her, as if trying to see right through her. Finally, he reached out and opened the bag, releasing a cloud of steam. The coldness in his eyes finally dissipated, and his voice lowered: "Fox."

Hu Li pulled up a chair and sat down next to him, her tone leaving no room for refusal: "Eat. Continue after you finish."

Mu Tianlang finally picked up the spoon. After the first bite, he closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing noticeably. After a long while, he spoke in a low voice, "These past few days... I haven't slept well, and I haven't eaten well either."

Before he could finish speaking, he slammed his pen on the table with a "thud," his knuckles clenching. After a moment, he forced himself to suppress his emotions and lowered his head to continue drinking his soup. That sudden outburst made the air feel even heavier.

Hu Li reached out and pressed his hand on the back of his hand, his voice soft but firm: "I know. But you're not alone. If someone tries to drag you down, someone else is waiting to pull you back to shore."

He stared at her, his fingers slowly loosening. Finally, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, his forehead against her neck, his voice extremely low: "Hu Li, stop fooling around. I'm afraid if I loosen my grip now, I'll swallow you whole."

Hu Li quietly hugged him, her fingers gently stroking the back of his neck, her voice tinged with amusement: "Even when a wolf is hungry, it must remember to eat slowly. Otherwise, the fox will think you lack manners."

Mu Tianlang's throat tightened, and he chuckled softly, as if a bitter ache had been torn open by her. He hugged her tighter, his voice close to her ear: "Hu Li, don't be scared away."

"I won't." Her voice was soft yet resolute. "Because I chose this wolf myself, how could I run away halfway?"

He finally breathed a sigh of relief, as if temporarily surrendering his entire weight to her. In that moment, all the pressure found an outlet. Hu Li leaned quietly against him, secretly thinking—how could she give him even more strength?

[Returning home late at night on the streets of Beijing]

At night, she walked out of the building alone. A cold wind blew in from the street corner, dispelling the lingering warmth from her body. She thought of the gossip she had just heard, and the deliberately staged photos on her phone, and a trace of unease still lingered in her heart. But more than anything, she felt a heavy weight of worry.

If these photos are made public, and if public opinion takes hold, will the mother's words—"You have to please Mu's mother first in order to gain a foothold"—be amplified into another kind of truth?

She wasn't afraid of being in the spotlight, but she was afraid that the relationship would be torn apart.

She walked down a street where streetlights cast dappled shadows, her footsteps ringing out clearly in the night. Her phone vibrated; it was a message from her senior, asking how she was doing and if she needed any help. She stared at the message for a few seconds, then finally replied with just one sentence: "Everything's fine, thank you."

She looked up at the night sky and took a deep breath. Once Mu Tianlang's company crisis was over, she wanted to have a serious talk with him. No matter what it might bring, she didn't want to run away anymore.