{Zhao Buhui replied, “I don’t care.” 2}

Did Shen Qi really believe that just because he drove a flashy sports car—an expensive Lamborghini—she would be dying to squeeze into his “noble” vehicle?

Qian Xu let out a cold laugh.

It became clear to her that, over the past three years, despite the genuine feelings she had offered, nothing had ever truly touched him. He hadn’t even made the slightest effort to understand her.

Otherwise, how could he think she was so shallow that a flashy car and a bouquet of flowers would win her over?

In that moment, Qian Xu said nothing more and fully shut him out once again, both literally and figuratively. She had no interest in the storm brewing in his eyes.

The taxi driver, sensing her disgust towards this man’s persistence, didn’t need a signal. “Miss, we’re heading out right now,” he said promptly.

The car sped off, leaving only a cloud of exhaust fumes behind for the man who couldn’t keep up.

As Qian Xu glanced in the rearview mirror, she found it hard to believe that the same man reflected there—so completely self-centered—had once captivated her for three whole years. Simultaneously, she realized that, now that the “male protagonist halo” had faded, and her rosy view of him was gone, she couldn’t find a single redeeming quality left in Shen Qi.

The driver muttered along the way, “These days, some men look decent on the outside, but inside, they’re not even human… what’s that saying again? Ah, ‘a beast in human skin.’ That’s exactly what this guy is.”

His tone was filled with a righteous anger.

Perhaps he’d seen traces of fatigue on the young, beautiful face in the backseat.

Realizing his words might have been too blunt, the driver asked, “Miss, did I say something wrong…?”

“No,” Qian Xu replied, watching Shen Qi’s figure dissolve into nothingness in the mirror. There was a hint of self-mockery in her voice. “I think you said it well. It’s just a pity that while everyone else sees the truth clearly, some people remain hopelessly entangled in the mess for far too long.”

The middle-aged driver, showing his empathy, said, “Miss, don’t worry, I drive pretty smoothly. Just relax in the back; we’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you.”

But Qian Xu didn’t show any signs of relaxing. She remained vigilant, looking out the window until she was sure that Shen Qi’s car hadn’t followed them. Only then did she acknowledge that, after all, the man still had some shred of self-awareness.

…

“Xiao Qian, that’s the overview of our company.”

Qian Xu hadn’t let her encounter with Shen Qi at the airport derail her focus. She was now at Zhaotian Group, not just for the satisfaction of a verbal victory but for something far more substantial.

Not long after the embarrassing spectacle at the airport, all related videos had mysteriously disappeared from the internet overnight.

It was clear who held the power in this situation: capital.

No one would believe that Shen Qi hadn’t lifted a finger to clean up the mess, something Qian Xu had anticipated from the start.

However, since her return to China, she had sensed a shift, albeit a subtle one. The scales of fate were still tipping, but perhaps not as dramatically as before.

“Xiao Qian, take a look at the company’s first foreign trade order back in ’86.”

She looked at the company’s cultural wall, nodding calmly and modestly.

The man giving the introduction was none other than the founder and current head of Zhaotian Group, Mr. Zhao himself. Since the Eurozone debt crisis, Zhaotian had been dedicated to reforming its structure, seeking new and innovative approaches. To that end, the real boss behind the scenes had scouted fresh talent from the vast crowd in New York.

“Thank you for your trust, Mr. Zhao.”

Mr. Zhao, mindful of the complexities beyond his control, gave a heads-up. “But Xiao Qian, I have to be upfront—within the board, not everyone follows my lead. Implementing a new policy might still face some resistance.”

“I understand,” Qian Xu smiled, exuding a quiet confidence that naturally instilled trust. She handled herself with grace, avoiding the extremes of either flattery or formality. “Thank you again, Mr. Zhao, for your trust.”

Landing a management position at Zhaotian Group upon her return to China was something many could only dream of.

In these tough times, even overseas graduates weren’t spared from the harsh job market.

Degrees from prestigious international universities had lost some of their luster in today’s world of devalued credentials.

“Now then, let me introduce you to some of the company’s old hands—our original partners.”

Qian Xu had already familiarized herself with Zhaotian’s founding members. As she carried herself with the humility and composure befitting a junior, she replied, “Of course.”

She followed Mr. Zhao into the conference room.