Chapter 37 Liu Duanhe rubbed his temples...
Liu Duanhe rubbed his temples, screwed the lid back on the cup, and put it back on the table.
"Ding-dong."
When the special message notification sound he had set rang, Liu Duanhe paused in his actions.
[Feng Xingyun: Let's calm down first, and then you can reconsider our relationship, okay?]
For the first time in his life, Feng Xingyun bowed his head and yielded, humbly hoping that Liu Duanhe would seriously consider the matter.
After calming down and thinking it over repeatedly, he realized that Liu Duanhe's excuse to shut him up was the only topic he could use to ask Liu Duanhe out again.
[Feng Xingyun: Regarding the compensation you previously requested, we will discuss it seriously after the final exams and holidays.]
After carefully considering the message several times before sending it to Liu Duanhe, he waited anxiously for Liu Duanhe's reply. To be honest, aside from the compensation offered by Liu Duanhe, he even doubted that Liu Duanhe would be willing to see him at all.
Their interactions, excluding the roommate relationship arranged by the school, were pitifully few. Liu Duanhe was either in class or handling affairs and work at the company. Upon careful consideration, it would have been almost impossible for them to have any interaction without Liu Duanhe's initiative.
Feng Xingyun must seize every available condition and resource to increase his leverage.
When Liu Duanhe said he would reconsider the relationship, he remained noncommittal. Once he made a decision, he wouldn't easily waver. But when it came to the latter statement, he wouldn't contradict himself.
He put down the cup and replied briefly, "Send me the specific time and place once they're confirmed."
Without looking at Feng Xingyun's reply, Liu Duanhe gazed at the swirling snowflakes outside the window, his gaze unfocused, his deep eyes reflecting complex thoughts.
When he got off the bus, Liu Duanhe was still wearing that camel-colored overcoat.
Just as he was about to get out of the car, he was suddenly called back. Then a down jacket was draped over his shoulders. Secretary Wei, dressed in a suit and tie, followed him down, keeping a respectful distance, and said with concern, "Boss, you have a cold today and you've caught a chill. It's easy for your condition to worsen. It's safer to wear a down jacket."
Liu Duanhe frowned, gave him a deep look, casually put the down jacket on his shoulder and draped it over the back of the chair, and smiled calmly, "No need, we can go straight upstairs from the garage, there's no need."
Secretary Wei's expression remained unchanged, showing no embarrassment whatsoever, and revealing no hidden thoughts whatsoever. "Okay."
How is the exhibition progressing?
After agreeing on the profit-sharing arrangement, Zhan Wenqi, a workaholic, only needed a few days to adjust to the time difference before taking up his new post as the Chief Financial Officer of Tianhe Group.
Liu Duanhe planned to have him join the Taicheng Manufacturing Group's project as well.
"Mr. Zhan is currently reviewing the group's financial reports for the past five years."
Liu Duanhe, who had worked with him for several days, was quite impressed with his abilities and nodded trustingly, "Good, it's time to clean up those spies and traitors in the group."
He had long considered Tianhe Group as his own, so naturally he wouldn't let these parasites continue to gnaw at the foundation of Tianhe Group.
Grandpa is getting old, and he has a lot to worry about. He's becoming more and more sentimental and doesn't know how many people are now just sitting in their positions, doing nothing, and knowing they're not capable enough, they're ruthlessly suppressing newcomers.
As for Liu Duanhe and other young and ambitious figures who openly championed the cause, although they could only be accepted because of the old chairman, how much they could contribute was an unknown. Liu Duanhe didn't say anything on the surface, but in reality, he was constantly gathering evidence to eliminate them.
Secretary Wei didn't follow him upstairs; he had to go back to the company to continue working. Liu Duanhe, on the other hand, gave himself a short day off to recuperate. His head injury had been causing him occasional dizziness lately, and he also had a cold. He wasn't made of iron.
When he went upstairs, the housekeeper was cooking. Without a doubt, Secretary Wei must have called the housekeeper long before he said he was going back to the apartment. He already knew that Liu Duanhe would choose to go straight back to the apartment.
Having such a subordinate is very reassuring; they can quickly understand every word you say and prepare the work in a timely manner. However, their inappropriate thoughts are detrimental to the work, which Liu Duanhe does not like.
Inevitably, physical appearance can be both an advantage and a source of annoyance at work.
It's like even though he's incredibly wealthy, there are still those who are blind to his own good and dare to speak rudely to him, acting out of line and without any sense of prophecy.
After Liu Duanhe changed his shoes, he unbuttoned his shirt, loosened his tie, and took off his coat and hung it up. Aunt Song was busy cooking in the kitchen.
Hearing the door open, she quickly plated the food and served it outside, chatting casually, "Xiao Liu is back so early today."
Liu Duanhe went to the bathroom to wash his hands first. Perhaps it was because he finally had a sense that things had settled down recently, his anxiety disorder had also eased a lot. "I haven't been feeling well lately, so I still need to rest." After he finished washing his hands, Aunt Song saw him coming out and looked him up and down carefully.
After taking off his coat, his figure, which was originally supported and covered by his superior height, broad shoulders and the coat's cut, became much thinner. The recent illnesses and injuries did not seem to have any major consequences, but they had indeed weakened his physique and made him lose a lot of weight. His waist was so narrow that it looked like it was only the size of a palm.
Aunt Song said with concern, "No wonder you seem to have lost some weight, Xiao Liu. Don't go back to the school dormitory these few days. Auntie will make you soup every day to help you recover."
After Liu Duanhe sat down, he said with a smile, "Then I'll leave it to Aunt Song. It really feels like I haven't had a proper meal in a long time, and I've been missing your soup for so long."
"If Xiaoliu likes it, that's fine. Auntie will send you the menu. Take a look in advance and see what kind of soup you want to drink, and I'll cook it in advance."
Aunt Song offered a few words of concern, then chuckled for a while after being amused by Liu Duanhe. Then, she slapped her forehead and suddenly remembered the dishes in her kitchen, "Oh no, I almost forgot about the soup in the pot."
Liu Duanhe watched the kitchen for a while, silently observing Aunt Song's busy figure. He then took out bowls and chopsticks from the cupboard, and brought out the soup and another dish.
The rising steam blurred Aunt Song's kind face. She was only a few years older than Liu Duanhe's mother, Wu Xiuying, but she looked much more mature. Fine wrinkles, like fish tails, were distributed around her eyes. She was gentle and warm, just like the loving mother he had imagined when he was a child.
After Aunt Song finished cooking the meal, she packed up and went home. Liu Duanhe was alone again. He had family, but none of them seemed as warm and welcoming as other people's homes. Liu Rumeng and Wu Xiuying were away on business trips all year round, and he had been living alone since he was a child.
After starting university, he moved out and lived in various houses depending on their distance; it was as if he had never had a home.
In fact, Liu Duanhe was quite envious of Feng Xingyun. Rumors in the circle said that the Feng family was so harmonious and happy, even a model family comparable to their own, a rare breath of fresh air in the chaotic world of wealthy families.
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Author's note: I've had food poisoning these past few days from eating bad food. [Poor thing]
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