Chapter 43 Secretary Wen
Wen Jia's toes hooked onto Xu Shaoting's suit pants, ruining the fine fabric.
"How am I supposed to face anyone..." she said, leaning on his shoulder, her voice slightly breathless.
Upon hearing this, he lifted her pencil skirt, carefully smoothed it, and covered her torn stockings, giving the impression that he was trying to cover up the truth and deny everything.
As Wen Jia straightened her shirt, she looked at the man's face. Although she was the one being passive, she inexplicably saw a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. Her gaze moved downwards, and she saw that he was perfectly at ease, not even unbuttoning a single button on his shirt. He had only moved his hands to make himself look disheveled, as if he were just casually teasing a cat. She was instantly furious.
I couldn't help but curse him, "You scoundrel!"
Xu Shaoting chuckled indulgently, not responding to her, which was tantamount to acknowledging her words, or perhaps it was a habit, because he knew that she would always run out of words afterward, with only those two words left in her mind.
Scolding him was just a formality; his expression just now didn't lie.
The clothes were almost tidied up, and before I could even get off him, there was another knock on the office door.
Yang Ruiming did not immediately receive permission from his superior to enter. Standing outside, he naturally had no idea what kind of intimate scene was unfolding inside just a door away.
After waiting patiently for about half a minute, Xu Shaoting's voice finally came through.
"Come in."
Yang Ruiming is very rigid, a giant at work but a dwarf in interpersonal relationships. Before even understanding the situation inside, he went straight to the point and reported:
"Chairman Xu, I just asked the HR department, and they said they haven't hired any new employees. They also said they stopped hiring in September—"
He spoke the last few words slowly and deliberately, unconsciously drawing out the last syllable, because his attention had been drawn to another person who had suddenly appeared in the office. As he spoke, his eyes suddenly darted around, and he saw the woman standing by the desk.
Isn't that the blonde beauty?
The woman who was just being asked how she was hired is now standing so openly next to the boss.
Apart from him, who was second only to the chairman, no one dared to barge into the boardroom, yet she stood there so calmly and at ease.
Moreover, that's not the point. The point is that without her mask, Yang Ruiming could easily recognize her face.
He gasped, his heart filled with a mix of emotions.
Why is a woman who only appears on screen here?
Suddenly, the image of the boss watching the red carpet a few days ago flashed into my mind, along with the message sent by Secretary Lin.
Even the most stubborn person should understand by now.
Oh my god... no way, the boss is in the office with a female celebrity...
Xu Shaoting looked at his expression with amusement, then casually put his arm around Wen Jia's waist and ordered him, "Keep it a secret and give out the bonus."
Even without the bonus, Yang Ruiming would never dare to utter a single word...
He gestured knowingly, then crouched down and left the office.
When Wen Jia saw that the door was closed, she obediently straddled his lap again, her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders.
"Chairman Xu," she called to him.
Xu Shaoting responded with a low voice.
Did you really see me on the red carpet?
"I saw it."
"How about it?"
Hsu Shao-ting stated frankly, "It was indeed a pleasant surprise."
"What are you thinking?" she pressed, her tone malicious.
Xu Shaoting smiled faintly, his gaze sweeping from her eyes to her lips, then back to the starting point, meaningfully saying, "Wishful thinking."
"You're having wild thoughts. The makeup artist and I went to great lengths to cover up the hickeys from that day," she said, patting him playfully. "It's all your fault."
"I'm sorry, it was hard to resist," he said, but there was no apology in his eyes. Instead, he reached out and unbuttoned one of her shirt buttons. "Let me see if there are any left."
Wen Jia panicked, afraid he would do something rash, and quickly grabbed his hand. Xu Shaoting was just teasing her, and chuckled as she stopped him. He glanced at his watch, stopped joking, and ran his fingertips along her leg: "Where did you put your luggage?"
"The hotel room was ready before I came to the company."
"How about I have someone help you move it to my place?"
Wen Jia deliberately straightened his shirt, but didn't immediately agree. Instead, she asked seriously, "Live with you?"
"What? You don't want to? It's not like you've never stayed here before."
“I’m willing,” she said, “but I have conditions.”
"explain."
Wen Jia leaned down, close to his ear, and said with a meaningful smile, "The condition is that you don't have to work today."
"You're joking."
"Okay, I knew you wouldn't agree. I was thinking..."
Wen Jia raised an eyebrow, deliberately leaving her sentence unfinished, her tone lighthearted, "But it doesn't matter. The hotel Lin Youzhe booked for me is very comfortable, with a two-meter double bed. Sleeping alone always feels a bit lacking; I wonder if any blond, blue-eyed handsome guys will come to keep me company..."
As she spoke, she patted the man's chest regretfully, making a move to get off him.
Before her high heels even touched the ground, her arm was gripped tightly by the man, and she fell back into his lap.
Unlike the gentle and tender embrace just moments before, the atmosphere shifted instantly, now carrying a sense of undercurrents.
"What, have you changed your mind?"
Her eyes twitched slightly, and her gaze, reflected in Xu Shaoting's pupils, carried a hint of nonchalant provocation.
“Chairman Xu, you’re a man of your word,” Wen Jia shook her head innocently, “You can’t go back on your word.”
Xu Shaoting's chest heaved slightly, and his expression was not good. He looked at her without saying a word, as if he didn't know whether to be bothered by the blond, blue-eyed handsome man she had mentioned or by her rejection.
Her voice, words, and actions easily swayed his reason, making it impossible to ignore. He seemed to be giving in a little, "What are you busy with if not work?"
"I."
He had to admit that she always had the ability to make him lower his standards.
He chuckled briefly, "What do you want to do?"
Wen Jia pondered seriously, "Do you still remember the night we first kissed?"
“Yes,” he didn’t even need to recall, “you were drunk that night.”
"I had a request that night, but you didn't fulfill it."
"What."
“I said I wanted to go to the riverbank to feel the breeze, and you said we would be photographed.”
"Nobody recognizes me here, so I want to go now."
"With you."
“Miss Wen, there’s no river here,” he explained earnestly.
"What a pity, then I can only be with blondes and blue-eyed people..."
She saw Xu Shaoting's lips tighten as she spoke, and his eyes gradually turned cold.
Before she could finish speaking, he coldly interrupted her, uttering each word clearly.
"But I know a place you might like."
Leaving early is uncommon for Xu Shaoting. However, the habits of employees in Swiss companies are vastly different from those in China. Their immediate supervisors are not always present, and they are used to a leisurely lifestyle. So when they saw their boss put down all his work and walk out of the office with a Chinese woman, they were not very surprised.
The Swiss didn't recognize Wen Jia, but there were Chinese employees in the company who were surfing the internet, and some of them recognized her early on. They secretly took out their phones to take pictures, but Yang Ruiming ordered them to delete them. He was also puzzled; one second they said they would keep it a secret, and the next second they were so openly bringing her out.
The driver took the two of them back to her hotel first, and their luggage was delivered untouched to Xu Shaoting's villa.
After resting in the villa, Wen Jia removed her makeup, revealing a fair and clean face. Her poor business attire, which hadn't looked professional at all, was now a mess thanks to Xu Shaoting's handling of it, making her unpresentable. She had no choice but to take it off and put on a lace inner layer. Fortunately, her fur coat was warm enough to keep her from getting cold.
When she came out of the dressing room, she saw that Xu Shaoting had also changed his clothes. His coat was not the peak lapel he usually wore at the company, but a notch lapel. It seemed that he deliberately did not wear a tie, so he looked very casual and relaxed.
Xu Shaoting looked her over, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. "You can wear flat shoes."
“Flat shoes don’t suit me,” she said, taking his hand. “Let’s go.”
The driver remained in place, and when he got back into the car, the heater was already on full blast.
The snow was falling lightly outside the window. The Swiss don't like to use umbrellas. People hurried along the street, their hands in their trench coat pockets, walking through the frost and snow. Their figures moved and crisscrossed in the snow curtain, a diverse array of shapes and forms.
This Bentley Mulsanne had no partition, so Wen Jia didn't dare to act rashly. She simply sat obediently in her seat and looked at the man, asking, "Where are we going?"
Xu Shaoting kept everyone in suspense, saying, "You'll find out soon enough."
The car drove along the side street for forty minutes before stopping at a narrow intersection.
Xu Shaoting walked around the car, opened the door for her, and took the opportunity to pull her cold hand into his pocket.
The two walked silently for five minutes.
Before you lies a small street brimming with classical charm. Rather than a commercial street, it is more like a timeline connected by family-owned shops. Perhaps these shops have existed here for a hundred years. For most people, luxury might be a spotless storefront in a high-rise building, but in Zurich, these shops that have witnessed the vicissitudes of time and the rise and fall of people are the most precious.
The old man who makes custom-made suits has failing eyesight and always wears a loosely wrapped measuring tape around his neck; the old man who sells clocks spends all day hunched over his table, his white eyebrows almost touching his magnifying glasses; the craftsman who makes handmade leather goods has rough knuckles, with thick calluses growing as if he is struggling against the leather.
These small shops have had their shop signs replaced countless times, but now they're mostly worn and faded. If you ask the owner why they don't replace them anymore, they'll give you a stern, angry answer.
No one on this street would want to walk into a store with a brand new sign!
Neither of them spoke; they simply walked along the cobblestone path. One of them deliberately slowed down, and after a while, they reached a flower shop on the street corner.
This flower shop has no signboard, but it has a sunshade on the eaves that has faded and turned yellow from the sun.
The flowers displayed outside had been battered by wind and frost, withered and drooping, looking rather pitiful. The flower shop was run by a middle-aged white woman. When she saw the two people stop, she immediately opened the door and invited them in.
No one asked for anyone's opinion; they simply moved forward together in tacit understanding.
The flowers inside seem much luckier, protected in a greenhouse, full of confidence, their necks held high, showing no signs of decay.
Many flowers that Wenjia had never seen before, she took his hand and led him to admire them one by one.
The middle-aged woman didn't use any marketing rhetoric; it seemed she was simply focused on inviting every passerby or tourist to stop and admire her flower arrangement. Once she heard a customer utter a word of appreciation, she had earned enough money for the day.
"Sir, would you like me to recommend something?"
She patiently waited until the two had finished admiring the entire view before asking her question.
Xu Shaoting nodded and replied with a short German sentence.
The shop owner smiled, her gaze sweeping back and forth between the two women; she seemed somewhat hesitant.
She has been running her shop here for almost thirty years, and has introduced all kinds of flowers. Tourists from all countries have seen her, but never has a couple ever put her in such a difficult position.
Both of them were too outstanding; neither could outshine the other. Would the flower serve as decoration or merely a backdrop? She couldn't understand.
So they cleverly started by examining the relationship between the two people.
She asked Xu Shaoting a question in German, which Wen Jia couldn't understand at all, and looked up at him.
He smiled faintly and replied in German without hesitation.
The boss let out a hearty laugh, clapped his hands with a sudden sense of relief, strolled over to a bouquet of champagne roses, and muttered to himself, "You're the one."
She picked it up and presented it to Wen Jia like a precious treasure.
Before she could react, she heard the man ask, "Do you like it?"
Wenjia held it carefully, sniffed it gently, and noticed that the light pink roses were too delicate to look at; the petals were as thin as cicada wings and had a glossy sheen.
She nodded without objection.
Wen Jia, holding flowers in one hand and being led by Xu Shaoting with the other, left the flower shop.
Under the streetlight, she looked up at him and said, "You speak German."
"A little bit."
"What did she ask you just now?"
He lowered his eyes, smiling casually, "She asked who you are to me."
"What did you answer?" she asked expectantly.
The sky obediently stopped snowing completely, the streetlights cast a dim yellow glow, and in the blue hues of dusk, along with the tolling of the old town church bells, she heard his deep voice:
"I told you you're my girlfriend."
His voice, his words, the sky, the streetlights, the snow, the chimes, the champagne roses—all strung together like a perfectly fitting lock, directly knocking on her heart.
Under Xu Shaoting's gaze, she slowly lowered her eyes, curled the corners of her lips, and the faint red on the tip of her nose became the only focal point on her delicate and plain face.
I don't know if it was from the cold or from joy.
Wen Jia was wearing high heels, but she was still more than half a head shorter than him. She kissed him sincerely on tiptoe.
The kiss was fleeting, like a dragonfly skimming the water, but Xu Shaoting didn't let her succeed. He held her head and deepened the kiss.
Dusk was falling on the horizon, and under the streetlights, two figures appeared even longer. The old gas lamps on the street were lit, casting warm yellow halos in the deepening twilight and swirling snowflakes.
Snowflakes gently landed on her hair, his shoulder, and their slightly trembling eyelashes as they drew closer. The sounds of the world seemed to be instantly absorbed by the snow, leaving only their increasingly rapid breathing and the pounding of their hearts.
The ancient streets, the drifting snowflakes, and the dim lights all became silent witnesses to this long kiss.
White people are never stingy with praise. A cyclist passing by secretly gasped. Love, confessions, and kisses happen every day on this street corner. It's just that they've never seen an Asian face, usually reserved, declare love so passionately and directly.
Hearing the sighs of passersby, Wen Jia finally felt a little shy. She smiled, took the initiative to end the kiss, took his hand, and quickly took a few steps away.
We arrived at a small river.
Xu Shaoting glanced at her, "This is the place I wanted to bring you here."
Wen Jia looked at the old sign next to the bridge, which was engraved with German, and asked, "Does this river have a name?"
"Limatt."
“Rivers and rivers are pretty much the same.” She smiled happily.
Xu Shaoting shook his head slightly and led her onto the wooden planks of the small bridge over the river. "I should say this place."
Wen Jia followed his gaze and saw that the bridge railings were covered with all sorts of locks, tightly fastened in pairs, as if it were the smallest yet most devout ritual in the world.
These locks are not as ostentatious as the love locks on the Pont Hohenzollern, nor as dense and heavy as those on the Pont des Arts in Paris. They simply bear the weight of time, quietly waiting for each couple who entrust their feelings to them.
It was a romantic plot she had only ever seen in TV dramas.
"I didn't expect Chairman Xu to like this too."
“I wouldn’t say I like it,” he smiled, “I just think it has a symbolic meaning.”
"Meaning?"
"This is my first time in Switzerland, and I came here with my friend."
"Then you locked up with your friend," she joked.
"Yes," he replied seriously.
"I never expected you to do something so romantic."
“A man.” He chuckled softly.
"Romance can exist between two men too."
Hsu Shao-ting went along with her words, "It's very romantic, which is why we still have a very good relationship."
Daniel never imagined that the man who was reluctant so many years ago would now bring another woman along.
Following the few remaining memories from eight or nine years ago, Xu Shaoting walked to the far left of the railing, looked at it quietly for a few seconds, and said, "Actually, it's completely gone now."
“I don’t see him very often throughout the year, but our relationship gets better every year.”
Is that why you think the meaning is good?
"Um."
As soon as she finished speaking, a whistle sounded behind her. Wen Jia turned around and saw a middle-aged white man with a beer belly waving at her with a smile.
It was obvious that the uncle had a good business sense. He had laid out a mat in front of him with all kinds of locks on it, and a few couples were squatting down to choose them.
Xu Shaoting frowned slightly, but the corners of his mouth were up in a smile, as if he were recalling something. "I feel like my friend and I bought ours from him nine years ago."
"He just didn't have a beard back then."
He naturally took her hand and walked towards the older man, but unexpectedly, he couldn't move her. He looked back at her.
In that instant, he saw a look of hesitation on her face.
"Can this lock be unlocked after it's been locked?" she asked.
Xu Shaoting's eyes dimmed almost imperceptibly. "Why do you ask that?"
Wen Jia smiled and said, "You hope our relationship can last as long as yours with your friends, right?"
He stepped back, hugged her tightly, and coaxed, "Sometimes relationships need a little external force. Don't you want that?"
“I want to,” she said, then changed her tone, “I mean I’m afraid…”
She didn't finish her sentence.
"What are you afraid of?"
What she feared, she couldn't say. She was indeed a perfect pessimist; there was a knot in her heart, tied by He Lingyi herself with her words and tears. Whenever faced with a choice in their relationship, Wen Jia always hesitated. Even when she only needed to grasp the present situation, she thought about a year later, fifty years later, a hundred years later, and what would happen after the contract ended. He wanted this relationship to last as long as a lock, but she feared things wouldn't go as planned, feared disappointing him.
And now, is she going to lock something up herself? Using a lock to keep a relationship based on a contract here, wouldn't that be too deliberate?
In an instant, she thought of many things. Perhaps she was afraid that her feelings would be bound by a lock. Without this lock, wherever she went would be the end, but with this lock, wherever she went would be an early end.
Wen Jia stared blankly, shook her head, and said nothing.
The two stared at each other in silence for a long time.
Xu Shaoting seemed to see through her, "Are you trying to say...?"
She abruptly interrupted his words, shaking her head. "It's nothing, don't say it."
Xu Shaoting nodded and patiently reassured him, "Don't think about it too much, okay?"
A wrinkle was gently smoothed out.
“Okay,” Wen Jia replied readily, as if she had been waiting for him to say that. She moved her feet, smiled casually, and leaned on his shoulder. “I’ll listen to you.”
The dark clouds on the horizon after the snow gradually dissipated.
The middle-aged man watched in a daze, noticing the woman's hesitant pace, as if afraid the two wouldn't buy anything. Finally, when he saw the man and woman walking towards him, he grinned.
She chose the locks herself; both were gold, heart-shaped, one large and one small, and each had their Chinese names written on them with a marker.
He hung the lock himself, in the very middle of the railing. With a click, the lock cylinder snapped shut, standing out as brand new among the rusty metal.
Another pair of locks was entrusted with an important task. At this moment, they both shed their lofty status and the halo of being surrounded by stars, and were perhaps just two ordinary believers who were superstitious about this lock.
Wen Jia hugged him back.
The lock seller sincerely applauded every couple who visited his stall.
A street musician playing the saxophone appeared at the last moment of the blues, his rich tone languidly permeating both banks of the river. The wind blew Wenjia's blonde hair, love and kisses hidden in her strands.
The white doves sensibly perched at their feet before flying away.
The Limmat River divides Zurich in two: the historic old town on the left and the modern new town on the right. Strolling around the Gross Church, you can see some of the world's most famous Swiss people and its proud Bahnhofstrasse.
This was the first time Wen Jia had walked so freely on the street, and she didn't even wear a mask. She thought no one would recognize her, but her blonde hair and beautiful figure were still too eye-catching, and she was chased by foreign fans who wanted to take photos and get autographs.
Xu Shaoting led her, deliberately turning into a less crowded side street.
How long do you plan to stay in Switzerland?
Wen Jia was walking along the curb with her head down, playing as she went. Xu Shaoting was worried that her high heels were not safe, so he slowed his pace to match hers and held her hand tightly.
"I'll stay as long as you stay."
"Not joining the crew?" he laughed.
Wen Jia saw things very clearly: "Even if Yu Jianshan announces now that he's joining the crew, if I'm not around, he'll still have to be mindful of your feelings."
"Is there anywhere you'd like to go? I'll arrange for someone to take you." His gaze was fixed on her every step, not missing a beat.
Wen Jia shook her head listlessly, "Without you, it feels like nothing's the same."
"I can't be with you every day."
“I know,” she suddenly thought, looked up, not paying attention to where she was going, her heel slipped and she almost fell off the curb, but was caught by an embrace.
"How about I be your secretary?"
"A proper secretary?"
Wen Jia looked around twice, then leaned close to his ear and said, "The kind where you have your own duties during the day and at night."
Xu Shao put his arm around her waist, his grip on her waist was noticeably strong.
"I never use a female secretary."
"I can't do it either?"
No man could resist her question, and Xu Shaoting was no exception.
So the next day, Secretary Wen arrived at his post.
When Xu Shaoting got up in the early morning, it was still dark outside the window, without a trace of dawn. Wen Jia felt the arm that was under her being pulled away, and instinctively tried to hold it back.
Her eyelids were heavy, and she was completely out of it. She grabbed the man's hand and asked him haphazardly what time it was.
Six o'clock.
Wen Jia stood up in one go, still full of energy despite not being fully conscious. "I want to go to the company with you."
Xu Shaoting glanced at her bewildered and disheveled appearance with a half-smile.
"No need to be so dedicated, just wake up naturally and come back later."
Wen Jia didn't stand on ceremony. She shrank back into bed and asked, half-asleep, "Will you deduct my salary, Chairman Xu?"
"Won't."
She said smugly, "So kind."
Xu Shaoting stared at her, his eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. "I'll pursue this further tonight."
When he came out of the bathroom after cleaning himself up, the woman on the bed had already fallen asleep again.
He was already dressed neatly, his hair styled in a sleek manner. As he tied his tie, he bent down and kissed her forehead.
"I'll have the driver take you to the company later."
After saying that, he prepared to get up and leave, but then, as if he couldn't bear to part with her, he rubbed his shaved chin against her neck, waking her up.
Wen Jia smelled his faint fragrance, and instead of being grumpy in the morning, she simply hooked her arm around his tie.
You didn't kiss me.
"We just kissed."
"I didn't feel it, so it doesn't count," she said, trying to deny it.
For the first time ever, Xu Shaoting couldn't bring himself to be hard, so he kissed her forehead again.
Seeing that she was satisfied, he glanced down at his watch, hurriedly picked up his suit jacket, and left the master bedroom.
Wen Jia didn't wake up until four hours after Xu Shaoting left.
The Swiss villa had fewer servants than the manor, but fortunately, they were efficient. When she stepped out of her room, brunch was already served for her.
She rarely had a good appetite after waking up, so she ate a few bites casually before lazily strolling into the dressing room to change.
She seemed to have come with a genuine work mindset, bringing several different kinds of professional attire—retro, elegant, and capable.
A secretary should act like a secretary. Wen Jia casually picked out a pencil skirt, and the maid quickly ironed it for her.
Halfway through the change,
The message bell rang as if it were divine intervention:
"Secretary Wen, you are not allowed to wear stockings today."
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The author's note: Your worries will be resolved, don't worry~
Guess how Chairman Xu will investigate tonight (the real deal)?
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