Six

Xiang Zuo watched as the car disappeared slowly into the distance. The cold gloom that had shadowed his eyes all night finally melted into a gentle warmth. Behind him, Rong Jiulian slapped his shoulder with a loud smack, craning his neck for a better look. “Zuo, who was that girl? She’s quite something!”

“Stop your nonsense!” Xiang Zuo brushed off the gossip-hungry man’s hand with brisk decisiveness, nearly causing Rong Jiulian to stumble to the ground. But in the very next moment, Xiang Zuo grabbed him by the collar and hauled him back up.

“Let’s go drink. If you walk out of here tonight on your own two feet, I’ll change my last name!” His fierce threat did nothing to conceal the extraordinary good humor in his voice. A fleeting smile, barely perceptible, found its way to the lips of this usually stern man.

Yu Nianyuan felt certain that being the personal secretary to Xiang Zuo, chairman of Shenglian Group, must rank among the most mentally exhausting jobs in the world.

As a top graduate from Harv University, Yu Nianyuan had always considered himself exceptional—until he met Xiang Zuo. That younger “junior,” two years his junior but entering Harv Business School with a full scholarship, had outshone all the other Chinese students at the time. Xiang Zuo was the very model of an elite, seemingly without flaw, and so composed it bordered on unnatural. Demanding of others, even harsher on himself, he exuded a pressure that was almost tangible whenever one stood before him.

Yu Nianyuan often found himself wondering why someone like Xiang Zuo—a man born with a silver spoon, the son of a high-ranking official and a famous entrepreneur—wasn’t living a life of ease and envy. Instead, the reality was quite the opposite. Whether due to an obsession or a touch of self-destructive perfectionism, Xiang Zuo had shone relentlessly during his student years, and after taking over Shenglian from his mother, Chu Xiangyun, he treated every day as if it were a battlefield.

The results spoke for themselves. In three years, Shenglian had risen from a nationally recognized company to become the most influential conglomerate in the country.

Yet, a year ago, something changed. The reason was simple: Xiang Zuo had just married. For a period—eight months and ten days, to be precise—he shed his usual sharp edge, and even became almost affable.

As his personal secretary, Yu Nianyuan knew better than anyone. The man who once lived as if he had no private life, under relentless parental pressure, was introduced to a woman and married her. The notorious workaholic transformed overnight into the model husband, channeling all his professional fervor into his marriage.

Perhaps it was the sweetness of love that softened him, draining away some of his intensity and brightening his mood. Inevitably, his harshness at work lessened proportionally. Just as Yu Nianyuan was quietly congratulating himself, disaster struck.

Three months ago, the chairman’s newlywed wife was in a car accident. At the time, Xiang Zuo was on a business trip in the US. He didn’t even wait for the G.O.E. Asia-Pacific distribution contract signing, scheduled in just two hours, but rushed home immediately.

The group’s most important project in half a year was put on indefinite hold—retreating when victory was within reach, just two hours away, was hardly a wise move. For the first time, the diligent secretary doubted the usually resolute and rational leader. Yet, in Xiang Zuo’s determined eyes, all opposition and doubt were forcibly swallowed.

Yu Nianyuan had never known a man could be so unyielding. Even when he knew he was wrong, he persisted—stubborn and justified.

On the flight back, Yu Nianyuan’s mind was tangled in thoughts of this man, three years his junior, and the innate strength he possessed. Until, by chance, he caught a glimpse of Xiang Zuo’s gaze out the window—a look that, for the first time, revealed a softness, even a vulnerability born of worry.

In that moment, he truly seemed like the “junior” he once was.

So deeply shaken by his wife’s illness that he abandoned business altogether, Chairman Xiang returned to work the next day, transformed. All the fear and anxiety of the previous day had converted into pure fury.

Though outsiders failed to grasp the situation, Yu Nianyuan, reading the signs, was sure of it—it was rage, an overwhelming anger. He even speculated wildly: Had the chairman’s wife betrayed him? Secretly moved his assets? What could have driven this man, master of self-control, to such an extreme?

That morning, Miss Wu, the administrative secretary, was frantically busy. The chairman’s office was rearranged three times. Brand new office supplies were brought in, only to be smashed and cleared away. From that day forward, the model husband who never missed a chance to go home on time reverted to a workaholic, pushing everyone’s stress levels to the limit.

Now, as Yu Nianyuan worried for both Xiang Zuo and the entire company’s health, he considered whether he should risk his own neck to offer advice. On this very morning, upon seeing the chairman’s face, an inexplicable sense of foreboding crept over him.

Seated in the car, Xiang Zuo’s sharply defined lips curved in an uncharacteristically gentle arc. Perhaps he was remembering something pleasant, for his thoughts seemed to blossom into a forgiving smile. The early morning sun ahead was not yet dazzling, but Yu Nianyuan, sitting beside him, felt as if the light was too brilliant to face.

Upon closer inspection, the man beside him—usually so cool and composed as to seem almost icy—was breathtakingly handsome when he smiled. No wonder, before his marriage, Xiang Zuo always topped tabloids’ “Most Eligible Husband” lists. Even now, with certain gossip sites conducting polls for the “Most Desired Affair Partner,” he remained among the top contenders.

“Nianyuan, pick four people. An accountant, a salesperson, a graphic designer, and someone from after-sales. They need to be sharp and quick-witted. Have them apply to Tongzhi Creative, as individuals. Their employment status remains with the group, salaries as usual. Also, let Marketing know that from now on, our graphic advertising will go to that company.”

Xiang Zuo spoke without glancing at his secretary, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his knee, the source of his good spirits unclear.

“All right,” Yu Nianyuan replied, jotting down the instruction, though his agreement was through gritted teeth.

Just days ago, four utterly useless employees had been poached from the chairman’s sister-in-law’s company, and he still hadn’t decided where to place them. Now, four top talents would be reassigned to cover those vacancies—what was the purpose of exchanging pearls for salted eggs?

“Not all the graphic ads,” Xiang Zuo clarified, pausing for emphasis. “Two million a year will suffice.”

Yu Nianyuan relaxed a little. The group’s image would be at major risk partnering with an unknown ad agency. Thankfully, his boss was still as shrewd as ever. But as the anxious secretary glanced up, his heart sank once more.

Xiang Zuo’s brows knit slightly, his gaze calculating. Beneath that calm expression, there was a trace of indulgence.

A sudden intuition struck Yu Nianyuan: this “two million” wasn’t about worrying that the company’s ads would be ruined by some small firm. Xiang Zuo was calculating how much business a five-person ad team could handle before being overwhelmed.

“I recall the secretary’s office just hired a U.sar graduate. Have her apply to be Tongzhi’s general manager’s secretary—handle all the GM’s personal tasks. If the position doesn’t exist, say it’s an internship, no salary required. The group covers her pay.”

That nearly made Yu Nianyuan slide right off his seat—a top student! Fluent in four languages, with LCC secretarial certification, Camb. office management credentials, archival management qualifications, Off. certification, advanced transcriptionist—such an outstanding talent, exiled to a barely noticeable little ad agency?

His hand trembled as he tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come; in his anxiety, he coughed.

“Do you have any objections?”

Xiang Zuo turned, a rare hint of teasing in his tone; his deep, perceptive gaze lingered on the coughing secretary, tinged with amusement. Yu Nianyuan, unable to sort out his feelings under that look, forced a smile and lowered his head to make a note.

At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to blurt out, “President Xiang, why are you suddenly fixated on Tongzhi? This isn’t like you!” But under the man’s all-knowing gaze, the question lodged in his throat.

He knew this chairman well—knew exactly what he was doing. He saw the course, and still chose to follow it. Yu Nianyuan couldn’t help but think of the G.O.E. contract delayed by Mrs. Xiang’s accident—so very similar.

As he wrestled with these thoughts, a curt “Stop the car” broke the silence. The deep command felt like being doused in ice water at the height of summer; he was instantly chilled to the bone. Startled, Yu Nianyuan looked up to find Xiang Zuo staring intently at something ahead.

All traces of ease, humor, and lightness had vanished from his eyes, replaced by a blade-like sharpness.

The abrupt change left the capable secretary’s heart suspended. Following Xiang Zuo’s gaze, he saw, less than twenty meters ahead at the hospital entrance, a man and a woman standing hand in hand.

The chairman’s sister-in-law, Mo Mo Zhang, stood facing a refined, handsome man, their arms linked…