The crisis is beginning to emerge.
The wall clock points to 11:17.
Xu Ying rubbed her aching neck and saved the last design draft. The cold light from the computer screen reflected on her slightly tired face. She was the only one left in the office; even her colleagues who had been working overtime had gradually left.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the entire city was bathed in neon lights, and the traffic flowed like a river of light. She stood up, walked to the window, and unconsciously ran her fingers along the rim of her coffee cup. The coffee in the cup had long since gone cold, but she still took a sip, the bitter taste spreading across her tongue.
—Just like my feelings over the past two weeks.
Ever since Zong Heng reappeared in her life at that business cocktail party two weeks ago, her life has been completely thrown into chaos.
"Xu Ying, you owe me five years."
His deep voice from that night still seemed to echo in her ears, carrying suppressed anger and a kind of obsession she dared not delve into.
The phone screen suddenly lit up, and a new message popped up—
"Working overtime tonight?"
These four simple words, without even bothering with punctuation, exude an undeniable presence.
Xu Ying stared at the unmarked number, her fingertip hovering above the screen, hesitant to move. She had clearly deleted his contact information, but her brain seemed to have a memory of it, recognizing him the instant she saw the number.
Zong Heng.
Five years have passed, and he still does things his own way, even sending text messages with a commanding tone.
She took a deep breath and finally replied, "Mm."
Almost the next second, my phone vibrated—
"I'll pick you up at eight o'clock."
She stared at the message, her fingertips tightening slightly.
He knew perfectly well that it was eleven o'clock, and he knew perfectly well that she was deliberately stalling for time and didn't want to see him, yet he still used this undeniable way to declare his presence.
Just like back then.
"Director Xu?"
The assistant's knocking pulled Xu Ying back to reality from her reverie.
She looked up abruptly and realized that her palms were already damp with a thin layer of sweat.
"What's wrong?" She quickly adjusted her expression, her voice returning to calm.
The assistant handed over a document: "An urgent email just sent from the legal department, saying that someone has reported our new series for alleged plagiarism."
Xu Ying was taken aback: "What?"
She took the document and quickly scanned it, her brow furrowing deeper and deeper. Attached to the document were several comparison images of design sketches; a niche designer claimed their new product was highly similar to her unpublished work from three years prior.
“That’s impossible.” She closed the file, her voice turning cold. “Our designs take at least six months from inspiration to the final product, and all the sketches are archived.”
The assistant hesitated, then added, "But they provided timestamp evidence, and..."
"And what?"
"The topic is already trending on social media."
Xu Ying immediately opened Weibo, and the trending topic was prominently displayed as #SingingDesignPlagiarism#. Clicking on it, the first post was a lengthy accusation from the designer, and the comment section was in an uproar:
"As expected, all domestic designers know is how to copy!"
"I heard this boss rose to power with the help of a sugar daddy, and now he's fallen from grace, hasn't he?"
"Boycott plagiarists!"
Her fingertips trembled slightly, not from fear, but from anger—this precise strike was clearly premeditated.
The phone vibrated again, and Zong Heng's name popped up.
She hung up immediately.
The air inside the meeting room was still.
The legal director pointed to the comparison images on the projection screen, his voice serious: "The timestamp on the design draft provided by the other party shows it was created three years ago, while our initial draft was completed six months ago. From a legal perspective, it's very difficult for us—"
"Bang!"
The conference room door was suddenly pushed open and slammed against the wall, interrupting him.
Everyone turned their heads, their eyes all fixed on the doorway—
Zong Heng stood there.
He wore a sharply tailored black suit, his tie slightly loose, as if he had just rushed from an important event. The wristwatch under his cuff gleamed coldly, reflecting the taut lines of his jaw.
The room fell silent instantly.
Xu Ying's breath hitched.
She never expected him to barge in, much less that he would appear in this way—forceful, abrupt, and brooking no refusal.
"President Zong?" The company's vice president was the first to react, hurriedly standing up. "What are you doing...?"
Zong Heng didn't look at him; his gaze went straight across the long table and landed on Xu Ying.
"Do you need any help?"
His voice was low, yet it was like a stone thrown into calm water, stirring up a commotion.
Xu Ying gripped the pen tightly in her hand, her knuckles turning white.
She didn't want to lose her composure in front of the team, but Zong Heng's appearance disrupted all her rhythm.
"This is an internal company meeting," she said, trying to remain calm. "Please leave."
Zong Heng raised an eyebrow, but instead of leaving, he stepped in and casually pulled out the empty chair next to her and sat down.
"Continue." He glanced at the projection screen, his tone indifferent. "I'd like to hear as well."
The meeting room was completely silent.
No one dared to chase him away, and no one dared to speak.
Xu Ying took a deep breath, suppressing her surging emotions, and turned to the legal director: "Continue the analysis."
The general counsel wiped the sweat from his brow and said with a forced smile, "Public opinion is currently very unfavorable for us. If the other party insists on filing a lawsuit, we may face..."
"Evidence can be fabricated."
Zong Heng suddenly spoke, his voice cold.
All eyes were once again focused on him.
He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the table, but his eyes remained fixed on the comparison images projected on the screen.
"Timestamps can be faked, and design drafts can be modified later." His tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable certainty. "Director Xu, is your design process fully documented?"
Xu Ying was taken aback, then nodded: "Yes, every step, from the initial sketch to the final prototype, is documented."
“That’s enough.” Zong Heng stood up, put one hand in his pocket, and tapped the screen with the other. “Investigate this designer’s background, especially his financial transactions in the last six months.”
The general counsel hesitated: "This...may require police intervention..."
Zong Heng sneered, took out his phone, and dialed a number.
"Director Li, it's me." His tone was casual, yet carried an invisible pressure. "There's a business dispute, and I need your help in investigating someone."
The call ended after just a few words.
The people in the conference room looked at each other, even holding their breath.
Xu Ying stared at him, her chest rising and falling slightly.
She hated this feeling—hated that he could so easily solve her problems, hated that he forcefully intervened in her life, hated that he... made her depend on him again.
"Meeting adjourned," she said suddenly.
Everyone was taken aback.
"Everyone, please leave first." Her voice was soft, but it brooked no argument. "I want to speak with President Zong alone."
The wind was strong on the rooftop, blowing Xu Ying's hair into a mess.
She had her back to Zong Heng, her hands resting on the railing, her fingertips trembling slightly.
"How did you get in?" she asked, her voice broken by the wind.
Zong Heng stood half a step behind her, his gaze fixed on her tense back.
"We acquired 20% of your company's shares." He said casually, as if he were commenting on the nice weather.
Xu Ying turned around abruptly, looking at him in disbelief: "What?!"
Zong Heng's lips curled slightly, but there was no smile in his eyes: "Now, I have the right to attend any internal meeting."
"You—" Xu Ying's chest tightened with anger, "What right do you have to interfere with my work?"
"You can't solve this problem." He took a step forward, getting closer to her. "Xu Ying, are you sure your work is original?"
“Of course!” She looked up at him and exclaimed, “Every single detail of our design is original; there’s absolutely no way we could plagiarize it!”
Zong Heng stared into her eyes, then suddenly reached out and ran his thumb across her tight lips.
"So, who have you offended recently?"
His fingertips were warm, and his touch was as light as a feather, yet it made Xu Ying stiffen all over.
A terrible thought popped into my head—
Zong family.
As if seeing through her thoughts, Zong Heng's eyes suddenly turned cold.
"I'll handle it." He withdrew his hand, his voice low.
"No need." Xu Ying took a step back, creating some distance. "I can handle it myself."
Zong Heng scoffed: "You said the same thing five years ago, and what happened?"
These words were like a knife, piercing Xu Ying's heart.
Her face turned pale instantly.
Five years ago, she stubbornly refused his help just as much, and what was the result?
As a result, she was driven to a dead end by the Zong family's methods and was unable to send even her last text message.
“That’s different.” She gritted her teeth. “Now I have the ability to protect myself.”
"Capable?" Zong Heng suddenly moved closer, trapping her between himself and the railing. "Then why are your hands trembling?"
Xu Ying then realized that her fingertips were trembling uncontrollably.
She clenched her fists in a flustered manner, but he grabbed her wrist.
"Xu Ying." He lowered his head, his breath brushing against her earlobe. "Don't be stubborn."
Xu Ying ultimately refused to let him take her home.
She hailed a taxi and silently watched the neon lights flashing outside the window as rainwater traced winding lines on the glass.
When she got home, she kicked off her high heels, slumped onto the sofa, and closed her eyes wearily.
The doorbell rang suddenly.
Xu Ying was startled and looked up at the monitor screen—
Zong Heng stood outside the door, soaked to the bone.
She hesitated for two seconds, then opened the door.
A cold wind, carrying a drizzle, swept in, soaking Zong Heng's suit jacket. His black hair clung to his forehead, and water droplets slid down his jawline. Yet, his eyes shone with an astonishing brightness, like a dark fire burning within them.
"How could you..."
Before he could finish speaking, he stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and pulled her into his arms.
Xu Ying froze.
His embrace was damp and cold, but his heartbeat was burning hot, transmitted through his thin shirt.
“I found out.” His voice was hoarse, filled with suppressed anger. “It was my father’s assistant who contacted the designer.”
Xu Ying's pupils contracted.
really.
She instinctively tried to push him away, but he held her even tighter.
"I'm sorry." He lowered his head, his lips almost touching her ear. "I didn't know he would do this to you."
The scent of rain mingled with the cool fragrance emanating from him, and Xu Ying suddenly felt a lump in her throat.
Five years ago, he did the same thing, sneaking into her yard in the rain to deliver a study guide. Back then, he was arrogant and unrestrained, laughing even when he was soaked to the bone: "Xu Ying, if I catch a cold, you're responsible."
Now, his voice is filled with suppressed pain.
"Zong Heng," she asked softly, her fingers unconsciously clutching the hem of his soaked clothes, "this time, will you stand by my side?"
He didn't answer, but instead lowered his head and kissed her.
The kiss carried the scent of rain, fierce yet tender, as if trying to make up for the five years of separation. Xu Ying tried to struggle, but he held the back of her head and pressed her even deeper into his arms.
"Xu Ying." He pressed his lips against hers, his breath coming in short, husky breaths, "I have never been on anyone else's side."
Only one floor lamp was on in the living room, and the dim yellow light cast the shadows of the two people on the wall, overlapping and intertwining.
Zong Heng took off his soaking wet coat and tossed it onto the sofa.
Xu Ying poured him a cup of hot water. He took it but didn't drink it; he just stared at the rising steam from the cup.
“My father has been keeping an eye on me,” he suddenly said, “from the day we reunited.”
Xu Ying gripped her cup tightly: "So this time..."
“He found out you’re my weakness,” Zong Heng sneered. “So he wants to destroy you first.”
A weakness.
This word sent a shiver down Xu Ying's spine.
"What's the deal with that designer?" She forced herself to calm down.
“Li Wen, a third-tier niche designer, has had almost no work in the last six months, and suddenly she jumps out to accuse you of plagiarism.” Zong Heng pulled up some information on his phone. “But I found out that two million yuan was deposited into her account last week. The remittance came from a shell company, and the actual controller behind it is—”
He paused, his eyes turning sinister: "He's my father's assistant, Zhao Hui."
Xu Ying gasped.
“They forged the timestamp, bribed the media to create hype, and even prepared a second wave of revelations.” Zong Heng gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles turning white. “Tomorrow, an ‘insider’ will come out and reveal that you got to where you are through underhanded means.”
Xu Ying's face turned deathly pale.
This is going to completely ruin her career and reputation.
"Why?" her voice trembled. "Just because we're together?"
Zong Heng put down his cup and suddenly grasped her hand.
"Because he wants me to marry the Lin family's daughter." He twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing a smile that was anything but genuine. "A business marriage, a powerful alliance, an old cliché."
Xu Ying suddenly stood up, her chest heaving violently.
"So I've become a victim?" Her voice was soft, but sharp with pain. "Five years ago, he forced you to go abroad, and now he wants to ruin me? Zong Heng, does your family think that ordinary people like me deserve to be manipulated by you?"
Zong Heng's eyes darkened, and he stood up and approached her.
“Xu Ying.” He gripped her wrist, the force almost causing her pain. “My father doesn’t represent me. For the past five years, I’ve thought every single day about how to break free from his control.”
He lowered his head, his forehead touching hers, their breaths mingling.
"This time I will not let go." His voice was deep, like a vow, "even if it means becoming an enemy of the entire clan."
The rain outside the window was getting heavier and heavier, and thunder was booming.
Xu Ying looked at Zong Heng, who was so close to her, and suddenly remembered that night in her senior year of high school.
After the graduation party, he pulled her to a secluded corner, handed her a necklace, and said, "Wait for me."
At that time, she naively believed that as long as she waited, she would definitely be able to wait for him to come back.
But reality slapped her in the face.
"Zong Heng." She raised her hand and gently touched his face with her fingertips. "Are you sure? If I insist on being with you, you might lose everything."
He scoffed, "You think I care about those things?"
“I care.” She looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t want you to regret it.”
Zong Heng was silent for a moment, then suddenly took something out of his pocket and placed it in her palm.
—It's a ring.
Xu Ying's breath hitched.
“I bought it five years ago,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I was planning to give it to you on my graduation trip.”
The ring gleamed softly under the light, with two letters engraved on the inner band.
Xu Ying's tears finally fell.
Zong Heng raised his hand to wipe away her tears, his eyes filled with an unprecedented seriousness.
"Xu Ying, there's only one thing I've ever regretted in my life: not being able to protect you back then." He gripped her hand tightly. "Now, are you willing to trust me one more time?"
A thunderclap boomed, and lightning illuminated half the living room.
In the flickering light, Xu Ying nodded slowly.
Zong Heng suddenly pulled her into his arms, as if he were holding a treasure he had lost and found again.
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