Chapter 49 Didn't see anyone already there...
The afternoon sun slanted down through the gaps in the blinds, casting its light on the long table in the conference room. On the screen, the budget figures and notes were densely packed, coldly displaying costs and rates of return.
"Cut this expense." Xia Zhiyao's fingertips swept across the screen, her tone crisp and decisive. "Reduce the 300,000 yuan marketing budget to 200,000 yuan, and allocate the difference to user research."
"Cut it off?" Zhou Yue sat opposite her, his gaze sweeping over her lazily, without even moving a finger. "You want to become number one in this industry by saving money?"
“It’s about precision.” Without looking up, she flipped through the documents, adding, as if casually, yet deliberately, “It’s not about burning through investors’ money.”
Zhou Yue slowly leaned forward, his fingers interlocked on the table, his gaze fixed on her: "You think I don't know how to save money? I do. But if you save money in some areas, you'll be even more tired."
Xia Zhiyao was stunned for a moment, then a cold smile curled at the corner of her lips: "You're making it sound so high and mighty, as if you're feeling sorry for me?"
“Yes.” Zhou Yue laughed, his voice devoid of warmth, but a hint of mockery surfaced in his eyes. “I care about you more than you think.”
He paused, as if deliberately moving closer, "But you don't need it, right?"
Xia Zhiyao withdrew her gaze, lowered her head and crossed out a few items on the budget sheet, her voice crisp: "Since President Zhou thinks I don't need it, then let's proceed according to the decision made at the meeting."
She pushed back her chair and stood up. As she walked around the table, Zhou Yue looked up at her slightly, his voice low and slow: "You think you won, but actually I let you win."
Xia Zhiyao paused, but didn't turn around, only casually saying, "You don't need to give way next time."
The door was pushed open and then closed again, and Zhou Yue's shadow was reflected in the glass.
He leaned back in his chair, tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest twice, and muttered, "So stubborn."
After a moment of silence, he suddenly curled his lips, as if he couldn't help but laugh, his tone carrying a hint of provocative pleasure: "That's more like it."
Light and shadow slanted down through the gaps in the blinds, cutting across his face, half in light and half in shadow. He reached out and pulled the budget sheet in front of him, his slender fingers slowly gliding over the sheet, adding back the items she had crossed out, one by one.
As Zheng Xiaotian was leaving, he bumped into Xia Zhiyao, who was storming out of Zhou Yue's office. "Hey, who upset you?" He raised an eyebrow and glanced at his watch casually. "Come on, let's go eat. We'll yell at each other while we eat."
Xia Zhiyao didn't speak, but pursed her lips and walked towards him. The moment she sat down, the warm yellow light illuminated the slight anger on her face.
Zheng Xiaotian pushed the menu in front of her and asked, half-jokingly and half-probingly, "Would you like to order? By the way, is the investment department at odds with you again?"
Xia Zhiyao flipped through the menu slowly: "This kind of contradiction is normal. The investment department pursues short-term returns. Whether there can be results within three months or half a year, the sooner the better."
Zheng Xiaotian said "Oh," and picked up his teacup: "They want to turn the money back as soon as possible."
“Yes.” She ordered, pushed the menu back, and her tone gradually calmed down. “But that’s not what the consulting department is looking for. We’re more concerned with long-term stability. A major failure isn’t just about losing a deal; it can also cause a significant drop in brand and market trust.”
"So you guys are conservative, and they're radical," Zheng Xiaotian summarized for her.
“You could say that.” She raised her eyes, her gaze calm. “The investment department is willing to take on higher risks in exchange for higher returns; we feel that once you step on some risks, it can take several years to recover.”
She gently tapped the glass, the glass gleaming softly under the light: "For example, they might feel it's worth spending more money for a faster result; we might feel it's wasteful and could make customers doubt our professionalism and sense of responsibility."
Zheng Xiaotian took a sip of tea, the aroma lingering in his eyes and brows. He said slowly, "Then the perspective on things will be completely different."
“Yes.” Xia Zhiyao smiled, a hint of sarcasm in the curve of her lips. “They look at numbers, IRR, payback period, cash flow; we look at strategic value, industry trends, and potential partnerships. One is focused on the present, the other on the next ten years.”
Zheng Xiaotian looked at her with a meaningful look in his eyes: "However, I understand what you're saying, but it seems that what you two are going through is no longer a matter of departmental stance, but more like a personal grudge."
Xia Zhiyao raised an eyebrow, not replying immediately. She lowered her head and slowed her knife movements by two seconds, the sharp blade making a soft scraping sound on the porcelain plate. Only then did she say calmly, "Between him and me, there is no such thing as 'personal'."
Zheng Xiaotian clicked his tongue, a smile playing on his lips, but didn't ask any more questions, only saying, "Fine, forget I said anything."
Of course, they weren't always at odds. When they really needed to work together, they were as in sync as two sides of the same coin.
The company received news that the client's vice president had suddenly arrived early to check on the project progress, and he was accompanied by senior management.
When the meeting room door was pushed open, the project manager was standing in front of the projector, holding a page turner, and giving a presentation at a steady pace.
The data on the screen was detailed and clear, but the customers' expressions were clearly not good. One of them even whispered to the person next to him, his brows furrowed.
"Your KPI completion rate for this phase is only 78%." The client's vice president flipped through the documents, his tone blunt and unforgiving. "The feasibility analysis doesn't even reflect the latest market dynamics. Are you too busy to update it, or haven't you even considered it?"
Lin Qianfan gave her a look that suggested they take it slow, but Xia Zhiyao quickly calculated in her mind and had no intention of backing down: "We've considered it. But I prefer to ensure the long-term feasibility of the plan rather than chasing trends for short-term data."
The client frowned even deeper: "So you're saying our needs are short-sighted?"
Just then, the conference room door was pushed open again.
Zhou Yue walked in, his steps unhurried, as if he were completely unaware of the tense atmosphere.
He ignored everyone else, walked straight to Xia Zhiyao's side, glanced down at the data table on the screen, then looked up and smiled as if nothing had happened: "Sorry, everyone, I just took a phone call downstairs."
He turned to the client, his voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable certainty: "We are indeed weighing the KPIs. I just had our team in New York do some supplementary analysis of the latest market data last night."
As he spoke, he put one hand in his pocket and typed a few words on the computer with the other, switching to an updated data chart. The trend lines were so beautiful that everyone present was stunned for two seconds.
“This version,” Zhou Yue paused, his gaze sweeping over Xia Zhiyao, “is the result of what President Xia and I discussed until 2 a.m. last night.” His tone was unhurried, as if he had just said it casually, but he forcefully pulled her out of the passive questioning situation.
The client flipped through a few pages of documents, his expression visibly softened, and he nodded: "In that case, we have no problem on our end."
As soon as the meeting ended and the client left, Xia Zhiyao packed up her documents and turned to leave, but then she heard him call her name.
Xia Zhiyao. She stopped and turned around.
Zhou Yue leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly to look at her. His fingertips tapped the armrest casually, and a faint smile appeared in his eyes, yet it also carried a sharp edge: "Sometimes you have to admit that professional matters should be left to professionals."
Xia Zhiyao's lips curled into a smile, cold as a blade: "You're more professional than me?"
He raised an eyebrow slightly, speaking slowly and deliberately: "At least when it comes to investing, I dare say I see further than you."
"Then you'd better pray that your journey isn't a misguided one," she replied curtly, her eyes cold and unforgiving.
The air between them tensed for a moment, as if sparks could fly at any moment.
Xia Zhiyao was the first to look away, turn around and push open the door. Zhou Yue didn't chase after her, but just watched her figure disappear little by little outside the door. His fingertips were still on the armrest, slightly tightening, then slowly relaxing.
In the following days, the two did not exchange a single word. Their WeChat conversations remained frozen on a work report from three days prior, and even necessary business communications were deliberately avoided, relying instead on assistants, emails, and any other means that could prevent direct confrontation.
This tacit estrangement trapped them in their own pride; whoever gave in first would be the first to lose in this silent contest.
Until the gold-embossed invitation arrived, inviting them to a dinner hosted by Qingyuan Capital, the three names were neatly printed in the same line: Zheng Xiaotian, Xia Zhiyao, and Zhou Yue. None of them could escape it.
The banquet was held in a low-key yet luxurious private club in Xicheng District. The guests were all wealthy and influential, including senior executives, heirs to conglomerates, fund partners, top venture capitalists, and CFOs of listed companies.
Zheng Xiaotian was dressed in a custom-made black suit, the gold cufflinks on his shirt cuffs gleaming faintly under the light, a faint smile playing on his lips as he dealt with his partners with impeccable manners.
Zhou Yue was talking quietly with several project leaders when he heard a slight commotion in the crowd. He subconsciously looked up and spotted her through the gaps in the light and shadows.
Tonight, Xia Zhiyao has abandoned her usual androgynous suits, opting instead for a form-fitting emerald green velvet gown. The dress flows smoothly from her shoulders to her waist, perfectly accentuating her slender proportions. The hem sways gently with her steps, the velvet fabric reflecting the light like shimmering waves in the deep sea.
Her black hair was piled high, and a pair of minimalist platinum earrings dangled from her ears. Her makeup was also more glamorous than usual, with dark brown eyeliner slightly upturned at the outer corners of her eyes, and a pure red color, like a ball of fire.
Tonight, she shed her professional armor, revealing her innate aura, a blend of coolness and allure that made it hard to look away.
Zhou Yue paused on the wine glass between his fingers, and his hand, which had been casually resting on the windowsill, tightened slightly. He watched her move with ease among the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and raising her glass with several guests. His gaze was indifferent, but in the instant their eyes met across the distance, it was as if he was silently tugged by some invisible string.
Across the flowing shadows, the flickering candlelight, and the false prosperity of clinking glasses, their gazes met unexpectedly in the air, first colliding, then entwining, carrying with them a mixture of probing and restraint.
Xia Zhiyao nodded slightly, her movements elegant and graceful, as if she were merely greeting an ordinary guest. The next second, she subtly shifted her gaze, took a glass of champagne from the passing waiter's tray, and touched the rim of the glass with her thin lips, the bubbles gently bursting between her lips.
Zheng Xiaotian was surrounded by rounds of toasts, but he remained composed, keeping his glass at just the right height.
At the main table, Zheng Yaotian sat upright, silent, yet exuding an aura of oppression, as if the surrounding air itself had tightened under his pressure.
After a few rounds of drinks, the hall grew warmer, and the air was filled with the scents of champagne, red wine, and perfume.
A local real estate tycoon, Mr. Liu, walked up to Xia Zhiyao with a glass in hand, his smile tinged with a hint of drunkenness: "Mr. Xia is so dedicated. I almost applauded what you were saying on stage... Come on, let's have a drink, let's drink to our hearts' content."
She sighed inwardly; these kinds of tentative advances were always unavoidable in such situations. Maintaining her professional smile, she slowly rose, lightly touched her glass to her lips—her movements remained impeccable—without touching any wine.
Just as she was about to return to her seat, the man suddenly moved closer, his breath reeking of alcohol, and his tone became flirtatious: "President Xia is good at her job, and her figure is really good too. The way you're dressed today..." Before he could finish speaking, his greasy, familiar hand reached out to her shoulder.
A feeling of disgust welled up inside her instantly, her eyes suddenly turned cold, and the polite smile on her lips vanished without a trace.
Years of experience in the workplace have allowed her to maintain a calm demeanor, but the fire in her heart has been completely ignited. She despises men who think they can take advantage of women just because they have some money.
My fingertips tightened instinctively, and my wrist flicked slightly, ready to swing away, but was stopped by a wine glass that suddenly appeared.
"Mr. Liu." A deep, clear male voice sounded from behind her, gentle as snow in a cold night, yet sharp at its own touch. "I'd like to offer you a toast."
Before he could finish speaking, the entire glass of red wine was poured steadily, splashing precisely onto Mr. Liu's chest. The red liquid trickled down his expensive shirt and suit, the strong aroma of wine mixed with his disheveled state, instantly shattering the lively atmosphere of the banquet.
Xia Zhiyao's heart skipped a beat; she knew who it was without even turning around. She was about to speak, but the calmness and certainty of that voice silenced her.
Mr. Liu froze, his face first blank, then flushed red. His soaked clothes clung to his body, making him look utterly disheveled. He abruptly turned his head, his gaze fixed on the main table, clearly seeking Zheng Yaotian's support.
Zheng Yaotian simply put down his wine glass slowly, his expression calm and composed, as if he hadn't seen what had just happened. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his younger brother, Zheng Xiaotian, about to get up, his hand already on the back of the chair.
He raised his hand and gently pressed Zheng Xiaotian's arm, whispering, "Didn't you see someone has already played the hero and saved the damsel in distress?"
Zheng Xiaotian raised an eyebrow and replied in a low voice, "I'm not going to save the beauty; I'm afraid she might actually kill someone in a fit of anger."
Zheng Yaotian glanced at him, shook his head, and smiled slightly: "You're too late."
Zheng Xiaotian followed his gaze and saw Zhou Yue calmly put away his glass, as if nothing had happened, while the red wine stains on President Liu's chest were still slowly seeping down.
Zheng Xiaotian chuckled softly and leaned back in his chair: "That's certainly going to be interesting."
Xia Zhiyao quickly composed herself, put on a polite smile, and said as if nothing had happened: "I'm sorry, our CEO Zhou just returned to China. He's been abroad for a long time, so he tends to be more direct in his expression."
She paused slightly, her smile fading a bit, but a hint of competition flickered in her eyes. Since he was going to make a move, she couldn't let him bear the consequences alone: "His alcohol tolerance is indeed a bit low. Look, he slipped up after just one round."
As she spoke, she raised her glass and gestured towards Mr. Liu, her tone polite but distant: "Mr. Liu, these clothes are so expensive, it would be a shame to get them dirty. Please remember to send the cleaning bill to our company's finance department, and I'll have someone reimburse you."
His words were impeccable, and a smile played on his lips, as if he were sincerely apologizing, yet there was a hint of sarcasm in them.
The thrill of humiliating someone to their face without finding fault with them almost made her burst out laughing.
She turned to look at Zhou Yue, her voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the noise of the banquet, her heart filled with mixed emotions: "Thank you, Mr. Zhou."
Aren't we in a cold war? Yet he still appears when she needs him. She can't tell whether this makes her more grateful or adds to her troubles.
Zhou Yue glanced down at her. The scene just now—the hand reaching for her shoulder, her eyes turning cold instantly—cut through the barrier between them like a sharp blade. The cold war of the past few days seemed insignificant at this moment.
He lowered his voice, his tone carrying a barely suppressed accusation: "Aren't you usually so capable? How could you just let him go like that?"
Xia Zhiyao slowly turned around, looked up at him, her eyes calm as still water, yet revealing a chilling distance in the interplay of light and shadow: "What kind of outcome do you want?"
Her voice was soft, as if afraid of disturbing the lively atmosphere of the banquet around her, but every word struck a chord precisely: "Should I make a scene here, or completely offend President Zheng?"
He knew she was eloquent, and he knew how good she was at enduring things. What he knew even more clearly was that her silence at times like this was not tolerance, but habit. It had been so long since anyone had stood behind her that she had long been used to swallowing all the rudeness and offense alone.
What he really wanted to say was, "It's not that you don't want to speak, it's that you don't expect anyone to speak for you."
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