Chapter 6 Reunion (6) Wen Chen, what happened back then...

In an instant, three pairs of eyes shone on Wen Chen like spotlights.

Gu Moheng's gaze almost pierced through him. Wen Chen turned around to meet that gaze, a perfectly timed smile blooming on his face, distant yet polite: "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Gu, but I won't trouble you any further."

After saying that, he didn't look at Gu Moheng again and walked straight to the black minivan.

"Let's go." The moment he opened the car door, his voice was filled with genuine warmth, a stark contrast to his previous coldness.

"Bang!"

The car doors were tightly shut, as if dividing the world in two.

Gu Moheng sat motionless in the driver's seat. He watched the van make a sleek U-turn, smoothly drive out of sight, and finally disappear into the light of the garage exit, his hands gripping the steering wheel until they turned white.

The atmosphere inside the van was relaxed.

Xiao Li and the project manager were still discussing the meeting they had just attended, their tone full of admiration for Wen Chen.

Wen Chen leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and pretended to doze off, remaining silent. The cramps in her stomach gradually subsided, and a feeling of utter exhaustion washed over her.

A truck parked "just right" without leaving a phone number.

Gu Moheng's actions were too deliberate and too obvious.

What does he want to do?

The warmth of the train carriage and the relaxed chatter among his colleagues acted like a gentle tranquilizer, slowly calming his chaotic emotions. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze was clear. He unlocked his phone and tapped the game icon he hadn't touched in a long time.

"Swish—swish swish—"

The crisp sound of fruit slicing suddenly rang out in the quiet back seat of the car.

Xiao Li glanced in the rearview mirror and said knowingly, "Teacher Wen is starting to 'de-stress' again..."

The project manager understood and shut his mouth.

On the screen, colorful fruits were tossed up and then sliced ​​in half by sharp silver lights, their juices splattering everywhere.

Wen Chen's thumb slid rapidly across the screen, his expression remaining gentle, but his eyes behind his glasses were frighteningly focused, without a trace of a smile.

"Buzz—"

A new message popped up at the top of the phone screen from an unknown number without a contact name.

Stay away from Li Zheming.

A cold smile curved Wen Chen's lips. He couldn't even be bothered to think about how Gu Moheng, who had been abroad for eight years, knew about Li Zheming. He swiped right expressionlessly, selecting "Delete," the movement clean and swift, just as he had forced himself to delete all contact information about this person eight years ago. He pressed his forehead against the cold glass, letting the turmoil in his heart pound against it.

In the afternoon, the atmosphere in the studio was unusually relaxed.

The preliminary work of the "Returning Home" project is progressing smoothly. Several young interns are gathered together, chattering about which newly opened restaurant to check out that evening.

Wen Chen had just returned from the construction site, taken off his safety helmet, and was about to wash his face when his assistant, Xiao Li, rushed in with a mysterious look, carrying a huge insulated food box. "Teacher Wen! Look!" The food box came from "Jingyuan," a top-tier private restaurant in the city. It was a three-layered gilded lacquer box, and the packaging alone was so luxurious that it was impossible not to look at it.

Li opened the lid with a flourish, and the warm, rich aroma of mushrooms instantly filled the entire office. The top layer was a clear matsutake mushroom soup, the middle layer was perfectly cooked abalone sauce sea cucumber, and the bottom layer contained individually packaged millet porridge and several delicate side dishes.

"Who sent it?" Wen Chen frowned slightly.

"The delivery guy at the door brought it over. He just said someone ordered food for you, Teacher Wen..." Xiao Li's voice unconsciously lowered.

Wen Chen's gaze lingered for a moment on the bowl of golden, soft millet porridge.

He couldn't help but recall that whenever he stayed up late drawing in college, his stomach would ache slightly. Back then, Gu Moheng would always put down the complex financial models she was studying and transform into a nagging mother, scolding him for not eating properly while magically bringing him a bowl of warm millet porridge, cooked until soft, sticky, and sweet.

Is it a coincidence?

He looked away. "Let's divide it up."

Xiao Li's smile froze. "Oh? Teacher Wen, this was specially for you..."

“You’ve worked hard,” Wen Chen interrupted him, a gentle smile playing on her lips. “It’s time to treat everyone.”

That smile, however, made the temperature in the entire office inexplicably drop a few degrees.

Wen Chen turned and walked into the bathroom. The cold water washed over the back of his hands, trying to extinguish the burning pain that had rekindled in his heart. His pale, tired face was reflected in the mirror. His hands gripped the cold marble countertop tightly.

Two days later, at the construction site.

Wearing a white hard hat, Wen Chen was confirming the pouring details of a load-bearing wall with the project manager.

A black sedan, incongruous with the dusty surroundings, silently glided into the construction site entrance.

The car door opened, and Gu Moheng stepped out. Today, he was wearing a well-tailored dark gray casual suit, with the top two buttons of his shirt collar casually undone. His sudden appearance at the dusty construction site made him look nothing like someone who was there to inspect a project.

Wen Chen was looking down at the picture intently when she noticed the slight commotion beside her and looked up.

Gu Moheng got out of the car, his gaze immediately catching sight of the figure wearing a white helmet. Seeing Wen Chen looking over, he subconsciously raised his hand, which was just buttoning his suit jacket, palm facing Wen Chen, as if to greet him familiarly.

When Wen Chen saw him, she frowned almost imperceptibly, then looked away and went back to looking at the blueprints, continuing to explain the technical points in a calm voice, as if she hadn't seen him at all.

Gu Moheng's raised hand paused slightly in mid-air, then he casually put it back in his pocket. His gaze swept over Wen Chen's face, which was stained with ash, and his hand in his pocket rubbed a clean tissue, as if he wanted to hand it over.

The construction manager, who had been complaining about logistics issues due to material problems, immediately greeted Gu Moheng with a beaming smile: "Mr. Gu! Why did you come in person!"

Wen Chen whispered to the project manager beside him, "Have Group A double-check the data, there can't be any mistakes."

"Okay, Teacher Wen."

Gu Moheng strolled over, his leather shoes crunching over the gravel. He took his hand out of his pocket, picked up the construction schedule, and casually flipped through it. "Why use composite soil nailing for the north foundation pit support? I remember the engineering consultant assessed that pile foundations would be more stable."

The construction manager, his forehead beaded with cold sweat, looked at Wen Chen pleadingly. The cost of pile foundations was at least 30% higher than that of composite soil nailing walls.

This financial tycoon always talks about "safety" but never mentions money.

Wen Chen turned around and pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses.

“Mr. Gu,” he met the intensely imposing gaze, his tone calm and even, “I’ve read the geological survey report here three times. The soil is uniform, the groundwater level is low, and the strength and stability of the soil-nailed wall are more than sufficient.” He paused, a faint glint of sharpness flashing in his eyes behind his glasses, “Mosheng’s money should be spent wisely. For example, improving the user experience in public areas.”

As they were talking, the sky darkened without warning. Large raindrops pelted down, instantly stirring up a cloud of dust on the parched ground.

"It's raining!" A commotion arose among the crowd, and they all ran towards the temporary workers' shed.

Just as Wen Chen was about to turn around, the light above him suddenly dimmed. A huge black umbrella opened above him.

Gu Moheng stood behind him. "Let's go." His voice was low and muffled by the sound of rain.

Wen Chen took a half step back, widening the distance between them. "No need, President Gu. The shed is just ahead." She was about to step into the rain when her wrist was suddenly gripped by a large, burning hand with immense force, leaving no room for resistance.

Gu Moheng's face appeared even colder under the gloomy sky. He practically dragged Wen Chen under the umbrella. "Your stomach isn't better yet, and you're already thinking about getting cold?"

"Get in the car." Without waiting for a reply, he pulled Wen Chen toward the black Maybach.

The rain intensified, and the space under the umbrella became cramped, bringing the two extremely close. Wen Chen could clearly smell the other's cool fragrance, mixed with the dampness of the rain, domineeringly invading all his senses.

"Bang!"

The car door closed, shutting out the noisy sound of the rain.

The monotonous hum of the car's air conditioning system filled the air, and a suffocating silence spread between the two.

Qin Shu had already wisely left with his driver.

Wen Chen pulled his hand away, sat in the seat furthest away from him, and turned his head to look out the window. Rainwater gathered into streaks on the car window, blurring the world outside, and like an insurmountable barrier, standing between him and Gu Moheng.

Gu Moheng reached into his pocket again, about to take out a tissue and hand it to Wen Chen.

"I hope that President Gu can distinguish between work and personal life." Wen Chen's voice was cold, drawing a clear line first.

Gu Moheng stopped what he was doing and instead took out a silver thermos and a small paper bag from a hidden compartment in the car, placing them on the empty space in the middle. "Ginger tea and some biscuits," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "Have some to tide you over, I'll take you home later."

Wen Chen didn't touch those things.

"Thank you for your trouble, Mr. Gu." His tone was distant. "However, I am no longer the person who needs to be taken care of."

Gu Moheng spoke again, his voice tinged with a barely perceptible bitterness: "Wen Chen, about what happened back then..."

“What happened back then is in the past.” Wen Chen interrupted him crisply, finally turning her head to look him directly in the eye. “President Gu, we are now partners. I hope we can focus all our energy on the project.”

The silence inside the car was like a dull knife, repeatedly torturing Gu Moheng's nerves.

After an unknown amount of time, the rain gradually subsided.

Wen Chen glanced at her watch. "The rain has stopped. I should go back."

As he spoke, he reached out to pull the car door open.

"etc."

Gu Moheng called out to him.

Wen Chen's hand paused on the doorknob.

"Has Dream Studio been in contact with venture capitalists lately?" Gu Moheng's voice regained its usual calm.

Wen Chen's heart skipped a beat. He turned his head, his eyes filled with wariness. "This seems to be unrelated to the project."

Gu Moheng looked at him, his eyes churning with complex emotions. "Stay away from 'Apocalypse Capital'. Their founders are shady."

Wen Chen's heart sank suddenly.

"Tianqi Capital" is the strongest and most determined of the several venture capital firms that have recently approached him.

Gu Moheng even knew this. Just how much had he investigated behind my back?

A chill ran down his spine. "This is my business, Mr. Gu, no need to trouble yourself." He coldly uttered these words, opened the car door, and walked into the cool air without looking back.

-

Night has fallen.

In the Dream Building Studio, only Wen Chen's office light was still on.

He had just finished a video conference, and wearily rubbed his temples before sinking into the sofa to clear his mind.

Standing in front of the huge "Homecoming" model, I gently brushed my fingertips across the small, south-facing terrace on the model.

This is the only safe haven where he can feel peace.

The phone on the table lit up briefly; it was a weather forecast notification.

He picked it up and unlocked it.

The moment my fingertip touched the screen, a bold red news pop-up suddenly appeared, taking up the entire screen.

[Breaking News! Emerging architecture studio 'Dream Chaser' is suspected of plagiarizing award-winning overseas works in its core project!]

His fingers trembled uncontrollably as he clicked on the news article. Below it was a comparison image: on the left was the rendering of "Homecoming's" most prized streamlined atrium design, while on the right was another image with a very similar style, labeled: "The Courtyard of Light," a gold medal-winning work from the Milan Architecture Biennale three years ago.

The two pictures are strikingly similar.

"Buzz—"

Wen Chen's mind went completely blank.

His pupils contracted sharply as he stared intently at the picture, his blood seemingly freezing in that instant.

A note from the author:

----------------------