Chapter 38 Glimmer of Light (7) What reward does President Gu want? ...
Monday's weather wasn't great. Low-hanging winter clouds cast a heavy, leaden sky.
The agreed time was 3 p.m., but the black Maybach had already parked in the parking space below the office building just after 2 p.m. Gu Moheng sat in the back seat, his back not leaning against the leather seat as usual, but rather sitting upright with a slightly stiff posture.
The car was heated to a high setting, but his long legs, which were crossed, shifted their position almost imperceptibly several times.
He raised his left hand and glanced at his watch.
2:10.
Today he wasn't wearing a meticulously tailored three-piece suit, just a fine white shirt with the top two buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his pale collarbone, and no tie. He remembered Wen Chen saying that this man looked like a capitalist ready to pounce on someone at the negotiating table at any moment.
To prepare for this moment, he stood in the dressing room for a full half hour after being discharged from the hospital, finally choosing this outfit that looked the least aggressive. His injured right hand was no longer wrapped in heavy gauze. It was replaced with a thin, breathable bandage, which allowed people to see the injury at a glance without being too conspicuous.
"call……"
Gu Moheng closed his eyes, his chest heaving violently as he tried to regulate his already disordered breathing.
This was even more suffocating than when he first stood on the floor of the Wall Street stock exchange. Back then, losing meant losing his life; now, losing meant losing his entire world.
He rehearsed the scene of their meeting in his mind over and over again.
What should I say as my first sentence?
Would saying "Good afternoon" be too formal?
Is saying "I'm here" too forceful?
Mr. Gu, who is known in the business world as a "master of the Midas touch" and who remains calm even when Mount Tai collapses before him, now looks like a fresh graduate taking a test for the first time, with his palms covered in sticky sweat.
Qin Shu, sitting in the passenger seat, glanced at his boss through the rearview mirror and saw his boss looking like he was facing a major crisis. He sighed inwardly. Who would have thought that just half an hour ago, this guy was coldly criticizing a senior executive's proposal as "garbage" on the phone?
Qin Shu turned around, holding a blue folder in his hand. It contained several urgent documents that were originally scheduled to be signed this afternoon.
"Mr. Gu," he said cautiously, breaking the deathly silence in the car, "while there's still time, the bidding documents for the land in the South District need your review and signature. The legal department is pressing for it..."
Gu Moheng opened his eyes, but his gaze, which had been somewhat unfocused due to nervousness, did not focus the moment he saw the documents.
He looked at the folder as if it were some insignificant scrap of paper.
"I won't sign."
His voice was low and deep, with a hint of obvious anxiety.
Qin Shu was taken aback, and subconsciously wanted to persuade him: "But President Gu, if we don't sign the agreement today, it will cause a delay, and it involves 300 million yuan in funds..."
Gu Moheng raised his left hand to press his throbbing temples, his brows furrowing tightly. He turned his head, his gaze piercing through the tinted car window, "My mind isn't clear right now."
Gu Moheng withdrew his gaze. "Take it away." He casually pushed the document, worth hundreds of millions, aside without even glancing at it. "Right now, all I can think about is how not to make a mistake in front of him. If I sign it in this state, I'm afraid I'll end up selling the entire Mosheng Group."
Qin Shu opened his mouth, but seeing his boss's foolish, infatuated appearance, he ultimately silently put the document away.
have to.
A business deal worth 300 million is indeed nothing compared to Mr. Wen's.
Gu Moheng ignored Qin Shu and raised his wrist again. It was 2:45, fifteen minutes to go. He straightened his shirt collar in the rearview mirror, making sure there were no wrinkles, before opening the car door.
Thirty-second floor, Dream Building Studio.
The knocking sounded precisely on time, and the wall clock was just about to coincide with the "12" mark, the second hand returning to zero.
Wen Chen didn't look up. "You're on time." "You're on time." He murmured softly, a faint, ambiguous smile curving his lips. The pen in his hand continued to glide smoothly across the tracing paper, the lines firm and precise.
"Enter."
The doorknob was gently pressed down, and Gu Moheng walked in. He wore a simple white shirt with the collar open and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, muscular forearms.
If it weren't for the conspicuous right hand wrapped in a breathable bandage, he would have looked like the college student who used to wait for Wen Chen to finish class in the library.
But the depth and experience in his eyes couldn't be hidden. Gu Moheng stood at the door, his gaze greedily fixed on Wen Chen.
Wen Chen didn't stop writing, and didn't even lift her eyelids.
"Sit down." The voice was cold and flat. "Wait for me for five minutes."
Gu Moheng paused for a moment after taking a step, then obediently walked to the chair opposite the desk.
The office was eerily quiet. The only sounds were the scratching of a pen across paper and the soft hum of a humidifier spraying water.
The sky outside the window was overcast, with leaden clouds hanging low, as if a heavy snowfall was imminent. The room was warm, but Wen Chen could feel a burning gaze tracing his profile inch by inch, from his brow bone to the bridge of his nose, and then to his tightly pursed lips.
The gaze was so blatant that even across a large desk, it made Wen Chen's fingers, holding the pen, tighten slightly.
Wen Chen ignored him and deliberately slowed down his drawing speed.
Gu Moheng showed no impatience whatsoever. He didn't even change his posture, except that his left hand, resting on his knee, unconsciously rubbed his index finger knuckle with his thumb.
Wen Chen caught a glimpse of this scene out of the corner of his eye. In the absolutely silent space, every second stretched out infinitely long. Wen Chen finally finished the last stroke, capping his pen with a soft "click."
He looked up, and their eyes met. Wen Chen adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and calmly observed the person before him.
"President Gu is very punctual," Wen Chen said calmly.
"If you want me to come, I dare not be late."
Wen Chen didn't respond. He opened a drawer and took out a pre-printed document. His slender fingers rested on the document, and he slowly pushed it in front of Gu Moheng.
"Since we're going to talk, let's do it my way."
Gu Moheng's gaze followed Wen Chen's finger, finally landing on the document. The bold, black title stood out starkly against the white paper: "Agreement on Certain Conditions and an Observation Period."
Gu Moheng's pupils contracted sharply. He looked up at Wen Chen, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, which was then overwhelmed by an almost ecstatic disbelief.
"this……"
"What? You don't dare to look?" Wen Chen leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms in front of him, and adopted a scrutinizing posture. His eyes were gentle, yet they carried an undeniable sense of control.
“As long as you’re willing to give me a chance,” Gu Moheng said in a hoarse voice, “I’ll sign anything, even a contract of servitude, let alone an agreement.”
Wen Chen chuckled lightly, "Mr. Gu, you flatter me."
As soon as he finished speaking, Wen Chen leaned forward slightly, his slender fingers turning to the first page of the document.
“First, the honesty clause.” His gaze fell on Gu Moheng’s slightly pale face, not missing any subtle changes in his expression.
“Every Monday, I need to see an ‘experience report’.”
Gu Moheng raised his eyes, a hint of confusion flashing in them.
Wen Chen didn't give him a chance to ask questions, her voice still gentle, "Not your financial reports, nor your mergers and acquisitions. I want to know everything that has happened in these eight years, from the moment you set foot in New York."
Wen Chen's gaze swept over the old scar on Gu Moheng's chest, which was covered by his shirt. "How did you get these scars?"
Gu Moheng's pupils contracted sharply, and his left hand, resting on his knee, clenched tightly. It was the bloody past he least wanted Wen Chen to see. He wanted to show Wen Chen his best side, not the down-on-his-luck gambler who had been beaten bloody in an underground boxing ring for a few hundred dollars.
"Wen Chen, those things... are disgusting." Gu Moheng's voice was so low it sounded like he was begging. "There's no need for you to know."
“This is the second point we need to discuss.” Wen Chen interrupted him coldly, her finger sliding to the second clause of the document, “The trust clause. Any major decisions involving our relationship must be communicated to us 48 hours in advance.”
Wen Chen took off her glasses, rubbed her temples, and when she looked up again, her eyes were icy cold. "Gu Moheng, please put away your self-righteous 'for your own good' nonsense."
Wen Chen stood up, walked around the desk, and stood in front of Gu Moheng.
He looked down at this once arrogant man, his tone softening yet striking like a hammer blow: "To me, one-sided self-pity is tantamount to betrayal."
"One more time, and it will be over."
Gu Moheng's face turned deathly pale instantly, even his lips lost all color. The word "betrayal" was like a sharp knife, precisely piercing the most painful spot in his heart. He looked up at Wen Chen, who was so close to him, his eyes red-rimmed.
Without the slightest hesitation, they were even eager to prove something.
"I will never do anything you forbid me to do." His humble yet obsessive demeanor resembled that of a large dog afraid of being abandoned by its owner again. Looking at him like this, Wen Chen's hardened heart inevitably softened.
He looked away, sat back down in his chair, and softened his tone.
"The third clause is the space clause. Stop your ubiquitous infiltration. You have no right to interfere in my social or professional circles."
Gu Moheng frowned slightly, a hint of struggle flashing in his eyes. He needed to control everything around Wen Chen, ensuring her safety and belonging.
"If Mr. Gu is unwilling, the door is over there." Wen Chen picked up the pen again, making a gesture to see the guest out.
"I agree." Gu Moheng spoke almost immediately, afraid that Wen Chen would change her mind if he hesitated even a second longer.
He picked up the pen on the table and uncapped it. Because of his injured right hand, he could only hold the pen with his less-than-skilled left hand, the nib falling onto the paper to draw slightly awkward lines. It was an extremely solemn promise, a ritual of surrendering himself once again.
After signing, Gu Moheng didn't let go immediately. He held the agreement, looked up at Wen Chen, and his Adam's apple bobbed.
"The terms and conditions state that there will be a reward for good performance." A hint of cautious probing was hidden in his deep eyes.
Wen Chen raised an eyebrow. "What kind of reward does President Gu want?"
"Can the reward... be customized?" Gu Moheng's eyes were burning with barely suppressed desire.
Wen Chen stopped writing and leaned back.
"for example?"
The office was silent for a few seconds.
“For example…” Gu Moheng lowered his head, avoiding Wen Chen’s scrutinizing gaze, “occasionally, call me ‘Moheng.’ Not the cold ‘President Gu,’ nor the full name ‘Gu Moheng,’ which conveys a sense of distance.”
Wen Chen was stunned. He hadn't expected that the "reward" this man, who had been so unyielding at the negotiating table, had gone to such lengths to demand was this.
Outside the window, the sky, which had been overcast all day, finally began to snow. Fine snowflakes pattered against the windowpane, making a soft sound. The snowflakes gradually grew larger, striking the French windows, much like the tense atmosphere inside the office at that moment.
Wen Chen did not immediately respond to Gu Moheng's request regarding the "address". He twirled the pen between his fingers and finally placed the nib on the signature area of the second party in the agreement.
A soft rustling sound rang out as he signed his name with sharp, decisive strokes, mirroring his quick and efficient demeanor. He pushed one of the agreements towards Gu Moheng, his fingertips hovering over the page, not immediately releasing it.
"If you want a reward, you have to see how you perform first." Wen Chen's voice was unreadable, but it carried a calm and collected air of someone in control. "The observation period is six months. If your performance is unsatisfactory, the period will be automatically extended."
Wen Chen looked up, his eyes behind his glasses, "If there are any serious violations..." He paused, his tone turning icy, "the agreement will be terminated immediately, and President Gu need not come again."
Gu Moheng's pupils contracted slightly; he knew all too well Wen Chen's nature of keeping her word. He took the thin sheet of paper, folded the agreement, and placed it in the lining of his briefcase.
Fastening the clasp, Gu Moheng braced himself against the armrest, trying to stand up. Perhaps from sitting for too long, his blood circulation was poor. Just as he stood up, Gu Moheng's tall figure swayed violently. His vision blurred, and his body uncontrollably tilted to one side.
"Be careful." A gentle voice accompanied the movement. Wen Chen almost instinctively went around the corner of the table and reached out to support Gu Moheng's arm.
The distance between the two closed in an instant, their breaths mingling.
The faint smell of disinfectant emanating from Gu Moheng, mixed with the cool scent of cedarwood, forcefully entered Wen Chen's nostrils. Through the fabric of his shirt, Wen Chen could clearly feel the other's burning body temperature.
Gu Moheng stiffened. He lowered his head, his gaze falling on the hand Wen Chen was using to support him. A storm raged in his deep eyes. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to fall into the embrace he had longed for day and night, but instead using the support to steady himself.
“I will fulfill every single clause in the agreement.”
Wen Chen felt the taut muscles beneath his palm. He didn't immediately pull his hand away, but stared at Gu Moheng for two seconds. Only after confirming that the other person was steady did Wen Chen slowly release his fingers, take half a step back, and create a safe social distance. His palm seemed to still retain the scalding heat.
Wen Chen's expression remained unchanged; he merely casually straightened his cuffs. "I don't keep promises."
He raised his eyes, his gaze cool and rational. "I'll wait and see."
Gu Moheng gave him a deep look, then said, "Okay." Without lingering, Gu Moheng turned and walked out. Although his back was still ramrod straight, his slightly slow steps betrayed his current physical weakness.
The door was gently closed.
A soft "click" sounded, cutting off the extremely imposing figure.
Silence returned to the office.
Only the snow outside the window continued to fall heavier and heavier.
Wen Chen stood there, motionless for a long time. Only when the steady footsteps completely disappeared did he turn around and walk back to his desk.
On the table lay quietly the copy of the agreement that Wen Chen had kept for himself. In the signature section for Party B, it was no longer the flamboyant, artistic signature of someone who had dominated Wall Street. Instead, it was neat, almost clumsy, regular script—Gu Moheng.
Even the way he wrote with his unused left hand revealed a hint of awkwardness and trembling in his strokes. It was that arrogant man, having shed all his pride and defenses, clumsily offering himself as a pledge of allegiance.
Wen Chen extended her fingertip and gently brushed it across the name, her fingertip lingering for a moment on the slightly crooked character "珩". Her gaze softened for a instant, and a faint, helpless smile curved her lips.
"……Fool."
Outside the window, snow was falling heavily.
This eight-year-long winter seems to have finally seen a glimmer of light.
This winter doesn't seem so hard to get through anymore.
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