Chapter 33
"Wow, this is incredibly extravagant! Absolutely outrageous!" Sitting in a private room at Xingyunhui, Senior Brother Liao exclaimed repeatedly, "Now I can brag about this with a clear conscience—I've eaten at Xingyunhui before!"
The junior sister leaned close to Yan Qing's ear and whispered, "I benefited from my senior sister's success."
Yan Qing quickly clarified, "I don't have that much influence; it's Teacher Huang."
The junior sister smiled slyly: "That CEO Shen, he's taken a liking to you. Don't you feel anything?"
Yan Qing pushed away her gossipy face: "You're overthinking it." But her heart was pounding unsteadily.
The junior sister said confidently, "Hehe, I'm an expert in this area, you can't be wrong. The way he looks at you is so intense."
Yan Qing sighed helplessly: "If you used that same intelligence on your dissertation, you could get your doctorate overnight."
The junior sister didn't take it seriously: "Anyway, trust me. Don't even think about hiding your big bad wolf tail in front of me. But senior sister, you have to be careful, this kind of man is mostly a playboy," she said, shaking her head and emphasizing each word, "definitely not a good match."
Although her junior sister was childish, Yan Qing was relieved that she hadn't been blinded by Shen Hanyang's superficial tricks.
Besides Huang Qian's research group members, only the vice president surnamed Gou and his assistant surnamed Hao were present. Even when Vice President Gou suggested that everyone raise their glasses, Shen Hanyang did not appear.
Of course, this did not affect the gluttons' mood. They only had eyes for the endless stream of novel dishes and rare and precious ingredients that were rarely seen, and had long forgotten who Shen Hanyang was.
Only Yan Qing felt much more at ease because of his absence.
While Vice President Gou was chatting with Huang Qian, Wang Yongxing skipped over a few people and attentively poured tea and water for Assistant Hao.
"I thought President Shen would be coming," he said.
Assistant Hao was unusually relaxed and completely unguarded: "President Shen is in the next private room; he has guests."
Wang Yongxing's beady eyes darted around as he refilled Assistant Hao's teacup once more.
In the next private room, a group of people were clinking glasses and exchanging toasts. Chen Hanyang retreated alone to the smoking area on the terrace for some fresh air. Outside on the terrace, daylight sank and night rose, the two colors merging to create a unique blue hue at dusk.
He had just lit a cigarette when a flat, almost nasty voice broke the peace he had finally gained: "Hello, Mr. Shen."
Shen Hanyang turned around and saw a tall, fat human figure behind him, which he initially judged to be male.
Wang Yongxing approached with a drink in hand: "Nice to meet you, President Shen. I didn't get a chance to chat with you much this afternoon during the meeting."
Shen Hanyang looked at him with suspicion: "Who are you?"
Wang Yongxing covered his mouth and chuckled: "I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Wang Yongxing, and I am also Professor Huang's student. We met in the conference room. I also participated in our group's computer graphics texture mapping model."
Shen Hanyang gave an "oh" and continued smoking, seemingly having neither impression of him nor any interest in him.
Wang Yongxing was not discouraged. He stood firmly next to Chen Hanyang and muttered to himself, "The choice of technical support... I don't know if I should say..." He shook his head as if he was having trouble.
As expected, Shen Hanyang, who had just been keeping everyone at arm's length, turned his head slightly and said, "Speak plainly."
Wang Yongxing sighed: "I didn't want to say this, but I'm just too straightforward and can't stand some things. Mr. Shen, you don't know, Yan Qing is quite different from us students from the mainstream. Her birth date on her ID card is fake. Actually, she's two years older than our classmates, so she should be twenty-seven years old."
Seeing that Shen Hanyang's eyes were dark and he seemed to still be listening, he became bolder, as if he had received tacit approval: "Isn't it ridiculous? A nearly thirty-year-old sapling hiding among a group of students pretending to be young. Of course, true heroes aren't judged solely by age. But her character is questionable. Relying on her close relationship with Professor Huang, she competes for scholarships and argues about authorship. We students, so naive and innocent, are no match for her. Professor Huang is biased towards her, which is why he recommended her. But I want to remind President Shen that someone who even lies about their age has serious credibility issues. Your company should think twice about whether they are qualified to take on such an important position as technical support."
Shen Hanyang silently puffed on his cigarette: "How did you know her actual age?"
"Her uncle told me!" Wang Yongxing perked up even more. "Her family story is so complicated it could be made into a TV series. You know Ms. Shen, right? She's an orphan, raised by her uncle and aunt. During her school years, she flattered her teachers, who then connected her with a wealthy family who sponsored her tuition. But she turned out to be a snob, abandoning her uncle who had raised her with such hardship, and went to live with her sponsors, begging them to take her in. Who would have thought that her scheme would backfire? Her sponsors' business went bankrupt, and she lost everything. Sigh, that's why they say life is unpredictable, or that heaven is watching what people do, and there's a cause and effect in the universe."
Shen Hanyang patiently listened to his long speech, his knuckles trembling slightly as he knocked off a bit of cigarette ash.
Wang Yongxing leaned against the railing, sipping his drink smugly, while glancing out of the corner of his eye at Shen Hanyang's face for any trace of anger or displeasure at learning the truth.
However, Shen Hanyang's face remained as calm as a still lake, showing not a ripple whatsoever. After finishing his cigarette, his dark gaze swept over Wang Yongxing before he turned and walked away.
Wang Yongxing pondered the fleeting smile that crossed Shen Hanyang's lips as he left. He thought, having risked a falling out with his fellow disciples to provide him with crucial intelligence, that smile must have been an expression of gratitude, right?
Shen Hanyang was working overtime at the company, and before he knew it, it was past 10 p.m.
He rubbed his sore eyes. It was quiet outside; he was alone on the thirtieth floor again.
He stood by the window for a while, holding his coffee cup.
Outside the window, countless lights still shine. City S is a city that doesn't need sleep. In every corner of it, tens of millions of living beings fuel it, providing power 24/7. It's a pyramid-shaped city, a magnificent spectacle forged by countless builders with their flesh and blood. The vast majority of builders can only remain at the bottom. But even their sacrifice is glorious, for they are buried within the pyramid, their names engraved upon it. Although those densely packed names are completely unknown to anyone.
Shen Hanyang returned to his computer and sat down, typing a URL into the address bar. A page called "Qilin Academy" popped up. He scrolled through the homepage, and the bizarre titles—such as "Rebirth: My Twelve Little Wives," "Older Man or Younger Wolf? I Want Them All!" and "Top Actor Crazy for Me"—made him frown.
He typed "His Highness Prince Qin and His Amorous Widow Sister-in-Law" into the search bar, and a familiar cover popped up—illustrated by Cheng Jiaming. The novel had already been serialized for over 400,000 words, but the readership was pitifully small, with each chapter only getting about ten clicks.
He clicked into the first chapter, but couldn't continue reading after a few lines.
This website is full of such meaningless and fabricated online novels. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of people read these drivel works.
He scoffed for a moment, then silently started flipping through the pages again. Although each chapter had no more than twenty reads, almost every chapter had two fixed IDs leaving comments. One of them was called "Shuilinglingdamengmeng," and the comments were nothing more than some insincere commercial praise, making him seem like a robot fan.
Another ID is named with mathematical symbols and matches someone's WeChat profile picture.
Almost every three to five chapters, this ID would post a long comment.
Clicking on this ID reveals a completely empty homepage; nothing has been left. The only book in the bookmarks is "Your Highness, Prince Qin." The account was registered a year ago, coinciding with the publication of "Your Highness, Prince Qin."
It seems that an account was created specifically for this book.
Just then, the phone rang. Shen Hanyang answered it respectfully: "Dean Yao."
The person on the phone said, "Sorry, I just had surgery and I'm calling you so late. I've seen Qiao Yi's medical reports..."
Dean Yao patiently explained, and some of the professional terms that Shen Hanyang was not familiar with did not linger in his ears for long. Only the final summary sentence, "not optimistic," gave him a general idea.
After finishing his call with Dean Yao, his mother, He Xuanxin, called him from overseas. He Xuanxin always called him at her own pace, never considering time differences, and it was common for her to call in the middle of the night.
Shen Hanyang sighed and answered the phone.
He Xuanxin cut to the chase: "Your recent half-dead state is really strange. Are you in love?"
Shen Hanyang neither admitted nor denied it, but simply asked, "What other instructions do you have?"
He Xuanxin clung to the question she cared about: "So it's true? The iron tree has blossomed, and the thousand-year-old lonely king has fallen in love?"
Shen Hanyang said in a flat tone: "You know, I've long since lost all feelings."
He Xuanxin asked, "So it's just for fun?"
Shen Hanyang did not answer.
He Xuanxin said, "Since you know what you want, I won't interfere too much. The most important thing is that your decisions must not be affected under any circumstances. You must keep your promise by the end of the year."
Shen Hanyang didn't want to talk about it anymore. He knew about He Xuanxin's heartache, so he simply pretended to be mute.
Throughout the phone call, his gaze remained fixed on the computer screen, the ID named with mathematical symbols deeply reflected in his dark eyes. After hanging up with his mother, he finally had a free hand to type the ID into a search engine. He found an account on a popular social media platform. The identical profile picture and name confirmed that both were the same person.
He clicked on it; the homepage was very simple, with only a few items. He looked through them one by one.
First: "My friend MM is smart, warm-hearted, and has a happy family. She's naturally beautiful, loves studying fashion, and prefers to be called 'Queen.' According to the Queen herself, she started online shopping at eight years old and is an expert in this area. She knows her size and style perfectly. But strangely, since we met, she always buys clothes that don't fit, and then uses the excuse that the clothes don't fit or look good to give me brand-new clothes to 'get rid of.' I know she wants to give me clothes, but she's afraid of hurting my self-esteem, so she stages this 'coincidence' every now and then. Thank you, MM. What have I done to deserve such a generous and kind person who allows me to see the brilliance of true feelings in this difficult and treacherous world?"
Secondly: "School has started, and I've begun my graduate studies. However, I encountered a small mishap right from the start. I was supposed to attend an important research group meeting, but unfortunately, I was on my period and in so much pain that I couldn't get out of bed. I nervously texted Professor Huang, begging for a day off. To my surprise, Professor Huang replied immediately, leading to the following screenshot of the conversation:"
"Just lie in bed and relax. Menstrual cramps are no joke! I used to have even worse cramps than you. That damn PE teacher said I was being dramatic and wouldn't give me leave, so I ended up fainting on the field!"
Thirdly: "What could be purer, yet more colorful, than the world of children?" The accompanying picture is a drawing with the signature "Cheng Jiaming" written in a crooked hand.
In his most recent update, he stopped.
That's a photo of the Tanchenfu residential complex, accompanied by the following text:
"Coming to a place that doesn't belong to me in order to make a living, I was able to get a fleeting glimpse into the world of another social class. Every building and every blade of grass here is imbued with the power of money. Because of this power, the originally emotionless and tasteless geometry becomes three-dimensional, beautiful, and abundant. Recalling the wealthy people I met here, their faces were also meticulously sculpted by the sharp edge of money. They were vastly different from the rough and sorrowful faces of most people in the world. They were much more elegant and composed. In their unfathomable eyes, there seemed to be a more hidden logic... but I always felt that they lacked some compassion..."
These words haunted his mind like a demon, refusing to leave.
He stroked his chin, staring at the gleaming glass counter behind him. He'd been used to compliments about his appearance since childhood, and while he didn't care, now he was puzzled: "Lack of compassion?...Do I look cold and heartless?"
On the "Qilin Academy" page, a small green dot lit up next to the mathematical symbol ID, indicating that the ID was online. He stared at the green dot for a while, then grabbed his car keys and walked towards the garage.
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