When she arrived at the company, Song Xijiao opened her lunch box and was greeted by a fragrance she had never smelled before.
She picked up one, it was soft and springy, she took a bite, and the sweet taste of elm seeds burst in her mouth.
Yang Peifeng came over.
Fried heart-shaped eggs with golden brown sides, tender green steamed buns, purple-red mulberries, a small box of hot and sour sauce, and a pair of wooden chopsticks. It is obvious that they are not mass-produced, but hand-polished.
"Wow, this green one is so delicious."
Song Xijiao protected the lunch box: "If you want to eat, go find your wife."
"My wife only knows how to cook steak and says Chinese food is unhealthy."
"Is your wife a foreigner?"
"She's of mixed Chinese and foreign descent. Her mother is Chinese, but she didn't inherit any of her mother's craftsmanship."
"Mixed-blood people are very popular in foreign countries, right?"
"No, it's only us Chinese men who treasure them. It's not their own people who dislike them. Racial discrimination is serious."
…
"A capable man is excellent in all aspects. Special Assistant Yang is worth ten people at work, and he also takes good care of his family."
"Mr. Song, you're too kind. I'm just working for the company."
Yang Peifeng is very humble.
"That's not true. If it weren't for Special Assistant Yang keeping watch from behind, I wouldn't be able to do my job peacefully."
…
Seeing that it was almost time to get off work, Yang Peifeng was flattered by Song Xijiao and waved his hand in a very heroic manner:
"Mr. Song, you go first. I'll help you with the rest of the work."
Song Xijiao achieved her goal, picked up her bag, put some oil on her feet, and slipped away.
She ran to the parking lot on the second floor below ground, opened the car door, got in, and put her bag aside.
"Jiaojiao, why are you so happy?"
Song Xijiao fastened her seat belt: "Because someone is covering for me."
Yang Peifeng belatedly raised his head and looked at the empty office.
"Grass!"
…
He, what did he just do?
Mr. Song just praised him a few words, but why did he get so proud and take on more work? He obviously has a wife and children to support, and he just wants to be a worker who gets off work on time.
He covered his face in frustration.
Pei Zhiting paused while holding the steering wheel: "Who will cover for you?"
"A smart worker."
Pei Zhiting frowned. Workers, could it be that those employees under her are flattering his wife?
Oh, not doing your job!
"male?"
"Um."
He was jealous. As a man, and a smart man at that, doesn't he know that he should stay away from married women?
Song Xijiao continued, "He's very capable. He can do the work of ten people alone."
Pei Zhiting said sarcastically: "Oh, that's really impressive. I wonder which executive it is."
"Not an executive, but a special assistant."
Special assistant, that's a secretary. Pei Zhiting was so jealous that his anger filled the entire carriage.
"Does your company have male secretaries?"
"Not a secretary, but a special assistant."
"Isn't a special assistant just a senior secretary?"
Pei Zhiting's teeth were clattering. "I didn't expect that Mr. Song is not particular about gender, and is suitable for all ages."
"What are you talking about?"
"Nothing, just complimenting you on being popular."
Haha, he won’t tolerate this injustice. He wants to make sure that man can’t survive in the capital.
Yang Peifeng, who was working overtime, felt a chill down his spine. Who was scolding him?
…
After returning home, Pei Zhiting casually draped his suit jacket on the sofa, untied his tie, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, revealing his delicate collarbone.
He walked to the wine cabinet, took out the red wine and the wine glass, and poured it.
Song Xijiao sat at the table and feasted on the food. She loved the braised pork elbow, sweet and sour pork ribs, cold-mixed wolfberry sprouts, and shepherd's purse dumplings.
Pei Zhiting walked over and placed the goblet in front of her.
Song Xijiao picked up the wine glass and drank it all in one gulp: "It tastes good."
Pei Zhiting poured her another glass: "If it tastes good, drink more."
Song Xijiao's face turned red from drinking, her head started to feel dizzy, and the Pei Zhiting in front of her turned into three people.
She stood up shakily, grabbed Pei Zhiting in each hand, and rubbed them in front of their faces.
"Pei Zhiting, how did you become three? It's so ugly."
The three Pei Zhitings all took off her hands. She muttered, "What? You won't even let me pinch you."
She sat down angrily, buried her head on the dining table, and ignored Pei Zhiting.
Pei Zhiting pulled her up and let her lean on his arms: "Jiaojiao, do you like the man who is covering for you today?"
Song Xijiao's mind was no longer clear. She looked at the three Pei Zhiting in front of her and answered seriously:
"I like it."
Pei Zhiting's face was gloomy. Haha, I knew it.
He continued to induce: "Does Jiaojiao like him or me?"
Song Xijiao looked at the three Pei Zhitings, each of whom exuded charm, and felt conflicted.
Seeing her silence, Pei Zhiting couldn't stop feeling sour in his heart, making his internal organs feel sour.
On the first day they were together, he took charge of all her skin care products for the rest of her life. They were all custom-made and more effective than the luxury skin care products on the market.
In his heart, Song Xijiao will always be eighteen years old.
She is always the girl who wears school uniform, a high ponytail, no makeup, a 2B pencil in one hand and drawing paper in the other, with a childish face but pretending to be deep.
I don’t want her to worry about a wrinkle, be sad about a neck wrinkle, or be depressed because of sagging skin.
I know she won't betray me, but I hear her praising other men.
He still couldn't control his wildly growing possessiveness and jealousy.
My dear, there is more to this chapter. Please click on the next page to continue reading. It will be even more exciting later!
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