Song Hengjue's Adam's apple bobbed, and he subconsciously glanced down.
He was wearing a black overcoat that he had casually picked up at the market last year, and his cotton shoes were no different from those of an old man going to the market on the street.
With his toes slightly curled, Song Hengjue felt a surge of resentment. If he could go back an hour, he would definitely slap himself twice.
Why did he go out dressed like that?! Oh no! What's this woman doing here?!
His face remained calm, and a perfect smile slowly curved his thin lips: "You're here to eat too? What a coincidence."
“It’s quite a coincidence,” Yang Qingheng raised an eyebrow, her gaze casually sweeping over the private room next to her. “Your Miss Qiao certainly has a lot of influence. What, does your supplier know that you’re going to replace him to please a woman?”
Her tone was perfectly normal, but Song Hengjue had heard similar words countless times in his past life. His knees buckled reflexively, his heart sank to the bottom, and he swallowed hard, frantically explaining, "It's not what you think. This is only the second time I've met Qiao Xihe..."
"What do you think?" Yang Qingheng twirled a strand of her silky hair around her index finger, squinting at the man in front of her with a chilling look that threatened to kill him if he didn't give her a satisfactory answer.
“Fang Nan said,” Song Hengjue seized the opportunity, “that you and that woman are…”
Before he could finish speaking, a startled exclamation came from the side: "President Song, this is..."
Pan Zhen pushed open the door and came out, intending to urge the food to be served. He saw Song Hengjue pulling a woman and saying something, so he strode over.
A blind, mentally challenged person.
Song Hengjue cursed inwardly, then wrapped his long arm around Yang Qingheng's face and pulled her into his chest, coldly looking at Pan Zhen in front of him: "What, my fiancée, you have a problem with that?"
"No, no, of course not." Pan Zhen said awkwardly, knowing he was being rejected. He stopped in his tracks and secretly glanced at the woman in front of him.
All that could be seen was a head of silky black hair, and her entire body was wrapped up tightly, making it only possible to vaguely discern that she was a young woman.
He was slightly startled, feeling a strange sense of familiarity, wondering which family's daughter she was from in the capital.
With a fawning smile, he said, "Since President Song has brought his fiancée, let's come in and have dinner together. It's so cold outside; it's not good for your health to be exposed to the wind for too long."
"Hmm." Song Hengjue felt the woman in his arms struggling, so he increased his strength and coldly glanced at Pan Zhen.
The man understood, and dared not go to the toilet, closing the door of the private room as if fleeing.
"Are you sick?" Yang Qingheng slapped him on the chest, but only hit a thick layer of cotton, making her look extremely ridiculous and even angrier.
Feeling guilty, Song Hengjue lowered his head and leaned closer to her, giving her a fawning smile: "Have you eaten yet? Let's eat together."
"I must be crazy to eat with you guys." Yang Qingheng rolled her eyes. Just seeing Qiao Xihe's face reminded her of the tens of thousands of yuan she had lost, and she was afraid that if she sat down at the table, she wouldn't be able to resist splashing soup on her!
Song Hengjue coughed lightly and coaxed, "Don't you have a grudge against that Pan Changshu? Don't you want to teach him a lesson?"
"You mean..." Yang Qingheng narrowed her eyes.
A few minutes later, Song Hengjue led the woman into the private room.
Qiao Xihe stared at the woman in front of her, who was wrapped in a black coat and whose eyes were the only part of her face, and the man in a vest next to her. She stood up in surprise and asked, "Who is this?"
"My fiancée, Xu Yue," Song Hengjue introduced, embracing the woman in his arms.
Qiao Xihe glanced suspiciously at Yang Qingheng across from her and gave a fake smile: "Miss Xu, this is indoors, there's a stove on, it's not cold. You're wearing so much, you'll sweat, why don't you take it off?"
"My fiancée is afraid of the cold, so why should this Miss Qiao interfere?" Song Hengjue asked with displeasure.
Qiao Xihe's face stiffened: "I was just concerned about Miss Xu. Since Miss Xu is afraid of the cold, I'll ask the waiter to add another fireplace to our private room."
Song Hengjue didn't answer, but pulled Yang Qingheng to sit down on the sofa next to him.
The woman didn't say a word after she sat down. Song Hengjue, like a maid serving a young lady in a landlord's house, carefully scalded the bowl and even skimmed off the oil foam on the surface of the soup bit by bit with a spoon, making the people opposite her twitch their eyes.
Pan Zhen was now even more certain that this woman held a significant place in Song Hengjue's heart; she was either the daughter of a high-ranking official, or someone Song Hengjue would have to carefully curry favor with.
Whatever the reason, it's a good thing that he invited this woman in today to befriend her.
Song Hengjue looked at the woman who hadn't said a word since she came in, placed the soup in front of her, and whispered, "Want some?"
"Are you blind?!" Yang Qingheng laughed angrily, pointing to the mask on her face.
Song Hengjue awkwardly put down his bowl. Just as he did, Yang Qingheng felt a bit hot and moved a little further away from him. The wide hem of her clothes brushed against the bowl of soup, spilling it all over the floor.
Yang Qingheng remained silent, giving Song Hengjue a death stare.
Song Hengjue: ...So fierce.
Seeing that the atmosphere between the two was tense, Pan Changshu quickly stepped in to smooth things over: "May you have peace and safety every year. It's just a bowl of soup. Don't let this ruin your relationship."
Yang Qingheng looked at the man in front of her, raised her eyebrows, and his arrogant appearance kept jumping wildly in her mind. She slowly stretched out one foot and pretended to be distressed: "Oh dear, these shoes are dirty and look terrible."
Song Hengjue subconsciously bent down, only to be hit on the head by her large slingshot. He inexplicably sat up straight and looked at her.
Yang Qingheng ignored him and looked straight at Pan Changshu in front of her: "I'm wearing so many clothes, it's inconvenient. Would Young Master Pan mind helping me?"
It was a blatant insult. Pan Changshu's expression changed, but looking into the woman's sincere eyes, he couldn't tell if it was just his imagination.
Just as he was about to refuse, Pan Zhen, who was standing next to him, shoved him hard and smiled ingratiatingly at Yang Qingheng: "Miss Xu is joking. Since we are all gathered together today, we are friends. Chang Shu is not the kind of person who likes to hold grudges, right, Chang Shu?"
He gave his son a threatening look.
He realized from the woman's slap that this person's identity was probably quite extraordinary.
What man wouldn't be angry if a woman slapped him in public, even if it was his lawfully wedded wife, unless there was something to gain from it?
"Dad!" Pan Changshu exclaimed in disbelief.
If word gets out that he's going to shine a woman's shoes, will he even be able to make a living in the capital?
Fool! These aren't shoes; they represent his future wealth and luxury!
Pan Zhen glared at his son and pointed to his wallet: If you still want to squander the family's money, don't cause me any trouble!
Pan Changshu suddenly stood up and walked towards the door, while Song Hengjue's face turned cold.
Pan Zhen was also taken aback.
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