Chapter 31 Feigning Illness "I really want to dream."

"The first step to attracting attention is to pretend to be sick and make her feel sorry for you! The second step is to create an imaginary enemy and make her jealous!" Cheng He sat halfway on his desk and patted his chest confidently.

After thinking for a while, this is what I came up with.

Zhang Minglang was speechless. He grabbed a piece of scrap paper from the side, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it at him: "What an old-fashioned trick!"

Cheng He caught the paper ball precisely, then stretched out his arm and shot it into the trash can. The ball flew out, missing the target entirely.

He slapped his own stinky hand hard, then looked at Zhang Minglang with a mysterious expression, saying in a cryptic tone, "That's why I said you're not really qualified! It doesn't matter if your methods are old-fashioned or not, as long as they work."

Zhang Minglang, who had no intention of discussing it, fell silent. He withdrew his hand, seemingly seriously considering the feasibility.

Cheng He continued his pitch: "Being sick is the best way to trigger a woman's protective instincts. Imagine you're sick in bed, she'll have to come and take care of you, right? That'll give her a chance to meet and talk!"

Zhang Minglang recalled the last time he had an IV drip for gastroenteritis, Tang Yi accidentally fell asleep sitting next to him.

Even after so long, he could still remember her long eyelashes, her fragrant hair, and her gentle demeanor when she was asleep.

But Tang Yi is such a clever person; his little tricks are nothing but child's play in her eyes.

It could even have negative consequences if not handled properly.

Besides, he's still a boss, isn't he? If a boss fakes illness to curry favor and get closer to his subordinates, and she finds out, he'll really lose face.

So he waved his hand, with a "don't even think about making me do something stupid" look on his face: "No, no, no, I can't fake being sick."

"Fine, don't listen then." Cheng He shrugged.

Tang Yigang came up from the human resources department downstairs, carrying autumn recruitment documents and information on various candidates.

It's already late September, and the fall recruitment season is drawing to a close. Junmao is a large and complex organization, so the recruitment process took a long time to finalize the list of candidates.

If all goes as expected, new staff will be joining the secretariat.

Her footsteps drew closer, and Cheng He, who was strolling in front of the blinds, saw her and decided to give his good brother one last piece of advice.

He immediately turned to Zhang Minglang at the table and shouted, "Quick, quick, she's here!"

Just moments ago, Zhang Minglang was speaking righteously, but he sprang up from his office chair, quickly slumped onto the sofa, closed his eyes tightly, and clutched his abdomen with one hand, looking like he was in great pain.

Cheng He, who witnessed everything: "..."

Dude, didn't you just say no?

Is she quick to learn?

Feeling a great responsibility on her shoulders, Cheng He pushed open the door and strode forward to Tang Yi's side, looking extremely anxious: "Secretary Tang, it's extremely urgent! Minglang is not feeling well!"

With his deliberately exaggerated tone, he made a matter that was neither big nor small seem extremely serious: "He's in so much pain, he can't even straighten up, and his forehead is covered in sweat! You should go and check on him!"

After going around in circles for a while, he finally got to the point.

Tang Yi frowned slightly, slowing her movements as she pressed the stapler: "Where exactly does it hurt? How long has this been going on? Did you eat anything just now?"

Cheng He paused for a moment, then let out a long "Hey," and pulled her arm through the door, muttering, "You'll see when you get there."

Tang Yi calmly withdrew her arm and followed behind the hurried Cheng He, a flicker of doubt rising in her heart.

As soon as the door opened, Zhang Minglang was lying on the sofa, his long legs stretched out. His height was clearly greater than the length of the sofa, so his feet and ankles could only dangle awkwardly in the air, making him look somewhat comical.

Tang Yi quickened her pace and squatted down beside the sofa to check the situation.

"Mr. Zhang? Are you feeling dizzy and nauseous? Did you eat anything just now?" She asked several questions in a steady tone, calmly considering whether his acute gastroenteritis had flared up again.

Zhang Minglang spoke weakly, "A little, a little, I ate... I ate..."

His mind suddenly went blank, and he forgot the lines he had just been rehearsing in his head. So he could only squint one eye and look at Cheng He, who was standing to the side admiring his superb acting skills.

Dude, what did I eat?!

Tang Yi narrowed her eyes. She seemed to be deep in thought, and following his gaze, she looked up at Cheng He with a probing look.

With two faces, seemingly favored by Nuwa, staring at him, Cheng He inadvertently blurted out his true feelings: "You two actually look quite like a married couple."

These words were like a depth charge. Tang Yi's pupils widened slightly, and she quickly shifted her gaze to the ground to the side, offering no response.

Zhang Minglang reacted even more strongly. His eyelids twitched violently, and he was about to get up when Cheng He anticipated his movement and quickly lunged at him.

Tang Yi quickly raised her hands, which were resting on the edge of the sofa, and leaned back a little to avoid being crushed by the human bomb that had fallen from the sky.

The person lying on the sofa wasn't so lucky. He couldn't dodge in time, and by the time he realized what was happening, Cheng He was already on top of him, pressing down on him so he couldn't breathe properly.

For his friend's happiness, Cheng He was willing to go all out!

He grabbed Zhang Minglang on the sofa and yelled at the top of his lungs, almost to the point of wailing: "Minglang! My good brother, what did you eat? You ate... you drank iced milk this morning!"

He finally remembered, turned to look at Tang Yi, who was already sitting on the single sofa opposite him, arms crossed, watching the show, and even his confidence was full: "Secretary Tang, I remember now, before coming to the company I saw him open the refrigerator and drink a glass of iced milk, which is why he had a stomachache."

Tang Yi asked doubtfully, "You drank milk this morning and your stomach is only starting to hurt now?"

Cheng He's mind raced, and her face softened with a fawning expression: "Viruses, they have incubation periods."

The reason was so absurd that Tang Yi almost laughed. Just as she was about to investigate further, Zhang Minglang, who was some distance away, struggled to sit up on the sofa.

That's a really good acting performance; they even know that if you're going to put on an act, you have to go all the way.

Tang Yi watched from afar as he clutched his stomach, his expression one of immense pain. If Cheng He's reason hadn't been so absurd and unbelievable, she would have almost believed he was truly injured.

Zhang Minglang gripped the sofa armrest, turned his face to the ground as if to vomit, but only vomited a little bit of acidic liquid.

Hearing the noise, Tang Yi practically sprang up from the sofa. She quickly walked to his side, took his arm, and leaned on him for support.

Cheng He was still standing there dumbfounded, clapping his hands and saying, "Dude, you could cross over into acting! Your acting is really convincing!"

Zhang Minglang was speechless. Seeing this, Tang Yi gently patted his back while turning to Cheng He and quickly instructing, "Could you please go out and call Assistant Zhou to go down and drive? Thank you."

Cheng He then realized that Zhang Minglang wasn't acting, and quickly ran out to call for help.

Zhang Minglang really did get gastroenteritis.

Cheng He felt bewildered and confused by how things were developing.

Seriously? Is his mouth blessed?

Zhang Minglang lay on the hospital bed, while Tang Yi was still outside paying bills and getting receipts. Cheng He pulled up a chair and sat down beside his bed, while Assistant Zhou followed Tang Yi's instructions and went back to the company.

"Zhang Minglang, you're amazing."

However, the god did not want to see his appearance and turned his head to the side.

Cheng He's enthusiasm wasn't dampened. On the contrary, he decisively pulled up a chair, dragged it to the other side, plopped down, and said gleefully, "That's great! It's convincing! You can really get close to her now! I told you, this method may be old, but it works!"

Zhang Minglang glared at him: "I am really sick. Even without your dirty tricks, she would still come to see me."

"Alright, let's stop arguing about this. Anyway, the goal was achieved, congratulations!" Cheng He even cupped her hands in a gesture of respect to him, only to be slapped away by him.

Just as Cheng He was about to retaliate, Tang Yi pushed open the door and came in.

She placed the payment slip on the bedside table and said to Zhang Minglang, "The doctor said it's nothing serious, and I can leave this afternoon if I'm fine."

He nodded obediently, still staring intently at her with his bright eyes.

Tang Yi didn't notice his gaze and looked down for a chair. Seeing this, Zhang Minglang nudged Cheng He, who was sitting steadily in a chair on the other side, with his elbow.

The two exchanged glances for a while, but Cheng He ultimately lost. He got up and moved the chair to Tang Yi, while he sat on another bed.

Tang Yi thanked him, sat down, and while flipping through the list, said to Zhang Minglang, "Mr. Zhang, how about this, for the sake of your regular diet and health, just tell me what you want to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner when you're at the company, and I'll prepare accordingly."

"Your stomach really can't be damaged any further."

After carefully explaining her thoughts while running around paying the bill, she looked up, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and asked for his opinion.

Zhang Minglang smiled and asked, "When can I eat your cooking?"

Tang Yi remained silent for a long time, but finally couldn't help but speak up: "You're dreaming."

“Oh my god,” Zhang Minglang turned his head to look at the bright daylight outside the window, his voice full of regret, “When will it get dark? I want to dream.”

Cheng He was stunned.

I never expected Zhang Minglang to look like this when he opened the app.

Tang Yi ignored him: "Then it's settled."

Remembering something, she looked up at Cheng He: "Mr. Cheng."

Cheng He didn't react at all, because no one had ever called him that formally before.

Zhang Minglang reached out his left hand again and patted Cheng He's knee. The latter looked up in confusion: "Hmm?"

"I called you because I need your help."

Cheng He straightened up and said earnestly, "Tell me, and I'll make sure you understand everything clearly!"

Tang Yi glanced at Zhang Minglang on the bed, seemingly casually: "I hope you can take out the iced milk from Mr. Zhang's refrigerator, so he doesn't drink it first thing in the morning, or he'll get a stomachache."

Cheng He: "Leave it to me, I'll throw it away when we get back!"

To retaliate for taking away his chair, Cheng He specially ordered a bunch of brightly colored Hunan dishes for takeout. Not only did she enjoy them herself, but she would also occasionally playfully place the takeout boxes under Zhang Minglang's nose to fan him.

Zhang Minglang glared at him fiercely and continued to drink the congee that Tang Yi had ordered for him on the small table in front of him.

Tang Yi has already returned to the company.

The company had so much work waiting for her to do. Although Zhang Minglang was very reluctant to let her go, he still offered to let her go back and arranged for her to meet with interview candidates.

As soon as Tang Yi left, Cheng He immediately scolded him for being stupid.

"We finally had some private time outside of work, and you let her go! Did you waste all that time you spent working today?"

Zhang Minglang shook his head: "These little tricks won't keep her. Besides, the normal operation of the company is more important than me."

"President Zhang." Three regular knocks sounded outside the ward door, and Assistant Zhou pushed the door open and came in.

When Zhang Minglang saw him, he was somewhat surprised: "Why are you here? Is something wrong at the company?"

Assistant Zhou looked unusually serious as he glanced up at Cheng He sitting on the opposite bed.

When Cheng He saw the bulging briefcase in Zhou Te's assistant's hand, she realized what was going on and quickly stood up: "Oh, it's confidential. Okay, okay, I'll excuse myself."

The ward door closed, and Assistant Zhou unzipped his briefcase, took out a folder, and handed it to Zhang Minglang.

He glanced at Assistant Zhou's expression, took the folder, and skimmed through it, his expression growing increasingly somber as he turned the pages.