Chapter 9

Faced with such a great opportunity, Cheng Li naturally wouldn’t refuse.

She immediately said, “Alright, I’ll check out the restaurant now.”

“Where’s your office?” Rong Qi’s calm voice sounded again.

Cheng Li gave him an address, to which he replied, “It’s pretty close to where I am now. Be downstairs in five minutes.”

After hanging up, Cheng Li couldn’t believe how smoothly everything had gone.

From their reunion until now, Cheng Li realized that he still seemed like the person she remembered—not in appearance, of course. After all, it had been many years since high school. His physique and features had matured, shedding the youthfulness of those days to become the image of a fully-grown man.

But he gave off the same impression. When he stood there, he felt as vast and steady as the ocean—untouched by external chaos or the passage of time. There was a purity and defiance about him that remained unyielding.

People often said that stepping into society forces everyone to don an adult’s mask and learn to feign sincerity.

But he seemed unchanged, still observing the world through his clear and composed eyes.

Perhaps it was because he was so successful that he didn’t need to flatter or compromise to please others.

Still, when Rong Qi first began to rise in prominence, there were rumors about his extraordinary background.

Some even drew comparisons to Bill Gates, noting how the media rarely mentioned that Gates’ mother had been on Goldman Sachs’ board.

Over the years, rumors about Rong Qi’s family background swirled incessantly.

Yet he never responded to them.

Cheng Li, however, knew that Rong Qi’s only real “background” was himself.

Although she didn’t know much about his parents, she was aware that he had lived with his grandparents since high school. His grandparents had raised him by running a small stall.

As Cheng Li’s thoughts wandered, her phone buzzed twice.

She quickly opened it to see a message from Rong Qi:

[Come down.]

Cheng Li hastily locked her computer, grabbed her bag, and went downstairs.

When she reached the entrance, she saw a Maybach pulling up—the same one she had spotted on the roadside the previous night.

The car stopped by the curb. Just as the driver was about to step out to open the door, Cheng Li preempted him, opening the rear door herself and saying, “There’s a traffic cop at this intersection. Don’t park too long, or you’ll get fined.”

The driver hadn’t expected the woman they were picking up to be so down-to-earth, even considering such details.

Seated in the car, Cheng Li’s gaze met Rong Qi’s as he looked up from his phone.

“Drive,” Rong Qi instructed.

As the driver restarted the car, he couldn’t help but glance at them through the rearview mirror.

Picking people up for the boss was a routine task.

But picking up a woman? That was a first.

Naturally, the driver grew curious about Cheng Li.

Cheng Li, meanwhile, asked directly, “What do you feel like eating? I’ve looked up a few good places nearby.”

Nowadays, decent restaurants often required advance reservations.

For example, at Restaurant J, booking a window seat usually required at least a week’s notice.

“Chinese,” Rong Qi answered succinctly.

Cheng Li nodded. Good—what she dreaded most was hearing “whatever,” which would leave her scrambling for ideas.

Since it was lunchtime and they only had about two and a half hours, options like hot pot and barbecue—both too pungent—were out. Spicy Sichuan cuisine wouldn’t work either.

Both being Jiangnan natives, they likely shared a preference for lighter flavors.

Dishes from Jiangsu, Hangzhou, Huaiyang, and Cantonese cuisines should all be safe bets.

Cheng Li’s mind worked like a high-speed processor, filtering through the options. Finally, she asked, “How about Hangzhou cuisine?”

“Sure.”

Hearing his response, she felt a small burst of joy and couldn’t help but add, “Last time I went to Hangzhou, I tried a dish called ‘spring water beef.’ It was amazing.”

This was during a business trip when a local partner had taken her to a renowned private kitchen.

Rong Qi chuckled softly. “How amazing?”

“So good that I’d love to have it again,” Cheng Li replied honestly.

At her answer, the subtle curve of Rong Qi’s lips deepened. From his expression, Cheng Li detected a trace of mockery.

Was he laughing at her lack of vocabulary?

“I’m a science student; my vocabulary is limited,” Cheng Li quickly admitted.

By confronting her shortcomings head-on, she felt she could stand her ground.

Leaning back in his seat, Rong Qi turned his head slightly toward her. “I just wanted to know how good that spring water beef really is.”

“I’ll take you to try it next time,” Cheng Li said offhandedly.

But as soon as the words left her mouth, she sensed something was off.

Rong Qi’s gaze lingered on her face, his smile faintly enigmatic. After a long pause, he drawled, “Already thinking of a reason for next time?”

Huh?

Cheng Li: “…”

What? She had just been making casual conversation—how did he take it so seriously?

Suddenly, Cheng Li couldn’t help but wonder what this man had been through over the years to make him so unflappable when saying things like this.

Fortunately, there was a Hangzhou cuisine restaurant nearby. Cheng Li specifically chose a slightly pricier one to avoid the soul-crushing wait times at more casual places.

As expected, though the restaurant was busy, there were still available tables.

A couple had just finished their meal, leaving a window seat vacant. After the staff cleaned the table and replaced the linens, the two sat down.

The waiter handed them a menu. Cheng Li passed it to Rong Qi, only to hear him say, “You decide. I’ll follow your lead.”

Cheng Li glanced at the menu and picked a few safe choices.

“This place doesn’t have spring water beef?” Rong Qi suddenly asked after she finished ordering.

The memory she had tried to suppress resurfaced and hit her like a truck.

If this continued, she felt she’d never be able to look at that dish the same way again.

Spring water beef—it was innocent!

After placing their order, they sat facing each other in a silence that felt almost oppressive.

Especially in contrast to the lively, harmonious atmosphere at other tables in the dining area, their table seemed unusually quiet.

Cheng Li slowly withdrew her gaze from the surroundings, pondering how to start a conversation.

When she looked toward Rong Qi, she saw him lightly resting a hand on his glass, his eyelids slightly lifted.

Their eyes met in mid-air.

“Your company must be pretty busy, right?” Cheng Li struggled for a long time before blurting out this utterly meaningless remark.

The moment she finished speaking, even she felt annoyed at herself. After all, he was a CEO with countless responsibilities—how could he not be busy?

Rong Qi traced his finger around the rim of the glass and replied, “Not too bad.”

Cheng Li couldn’t think of anything else to say. Although they knew each other, they were just high school classmates who hadn’t met in over a decade. Their lives were so disconnected, as if separated by galaxies.

No wonder Meng Yuange had expressed such amazement that day.

Who would have thought that students who once sat in the same classroom could end up living such drastically different lives?

“What company are you working for now?” Rong Qi suddenly asked.

Caught off guard, Cheng Li was momentarily stunned before replying, “Fanhai Zhixing.”

Rong Qi raised an eyebrow. “Oh, an autonomous driving company.”

“You’ve heard of it?” Cheng Li was a little surprised. After all, Fanhai Zhixing wasn’t a well-known name in the autonomous driving field; it was just a small, up-and-coming startup.

Although the company had secured two rounds of funding, compared to the industry giants, it was like the difference between an elephant and an ant.

Rong Qi gave a faint smile. “The name makes it hard not to guess.”

Cheng Li turned to look at him and slowly responded, “But ‘Qiyu Technology’ wouldn’t immediately make someone think it’s an internet company.”

“…”

Cheng Li usually considered herself mild-tempered and not the type to argue for the sake of arguing.

But just now, Rong Qi’s slightly condescending tone had rubbed her the wrong way.

Perhaps Fanhai Zhixing was insignificant in his eyes, but to Cheng Li, it was her hard work and dedication. It was like her own child—even if imperfect, she wouldn’t tolerate others looking down on it.

Still, she regretted her words slightly. He hadn’t meant to insult her, had he?

To salvage her impression, she quickly added, “Qiyu Technology’s name, though, does carry the grandeur of a major internet company—’building the future and pioneering the field.’ It’s very fitting.”

Rong Qi asked casually, “What levels of technology does your company focus on?”

Cheng Li wasn’t sure why he was interested in her company, but since the information wasn’t confidential, she patiently explained, “We’re working on L2, L3, and L4 automation levels.”

The industry often classified autonomous driving into levels from L0 to L5, with automation increasing at each step.

“L2, the assisted driving level—you’re working on that too?”

Cheng Li nodded. “Our company isn’t large, so we don’t exclusively focus on L4 like some of the top players.”

Some autonomous driving companies, confident in their technical expertise, dismissed assisted driving as beneath them, instead aiming to overcome current technical barriers and lead the next revolutionary wave.

In this regard, Cheng Li appreciated her boss Ren Kuang’s pragmatism.

“Not bad. Too many companies are overly ambitious these days. Focusing on assisted driving makes it easier to commercialize the technology.”

As they talked about work, the conversation became unexpectedly engaging.

It was clear that in both business acumen and technical expertise, Rong Qi had an undeniable authority. Talking to him, Cheng Li felt a rare sense of intellectual stimulation she hadn’t encountered with others.

But when the food arrived, Cheng Li realized a serious issue.

She and Rong Qi were here to talk about personal matters, not work.

Why did it now feel like she was seconds away from interviewing for a job at Qiyu?

Determined to steer the conversation back, Cheng Li smiled and said, “Why don’t we talk about something else? It’s our lunch break—no need to focus on work.”

Rong Qi didn’t object and nodded calmly.

This time, Cheng Li resolved to make the most of the opportunity.

Getting to know each other was the priority.

She asked, “What’s your favorite thing?”

Understanding his interests would help her better connect with him.

A perfect question!

Rong Qi paused, chopsticks in hand, and turned to look at her. His eyes carried a hint of curiosity, making Cheng Li nervous. Was this question off-limits?

Just as she was about to backtrack and say he didn’t have to answer, Rong Qi quietly observed her.

Today, Cheng Li had her hair tied back in a ponytail, just like in high school.

Sunlight streaming in from the window illuminated her fair face.

For a moment, the sound of summer cicadas from years ago seemed to echo faintly in his ears.

“White moon.”

Cheng Li wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but the way Rong Qi said those words seemed strangely unpolished.

*

That evening, Cheng Li worked overtime until past ten. Standing by the roadside, waiting for her ride-share, she glanced up and noticed a half-crescent moon in the sky.

White moon?

Was that what Rong Qi liked?

She couldn’t quite grasp the meaning behind it.

When she finally got into the car and began scrolling through her social media, she came across a post by a former university classmate, a photography enthusiast, who had just shared a set of pictures.

One of them was a photo of a moonlit sea—a bright, high-hanging moon casting its light over shimmering waves.

Cheng Li stared at it for a long time before opening a chat with that classmate.

Cheng Li: [Can I ask you something? Is there such a thing as a white moon? A friend told me it’s his favorite.]

The reply came almost instantly: [Of course there is.]

Classmate: [Is he referring to a supermoon?]

Classmate: [Hold on, I’ll find a photo of a supermoon I took—it’s stunning.]

Soon, several photos popped up in the chat.

Cheng Li wasn’t well-versed in photography or supermoons, but the images were breathtaking: a luminous, oversized moon radiating a soft white glow. Even in photos, it was mesmerizing.

In that moment, Cheng Li began to understand why Rong Qi liked the white moon.

So, Rong Qi was a photography enthusiast now.

At Qiyu Technology, even though it was already past 10 p.m., the lights in the conference room were still on.

Rong Qi was fully focused, listening intently to the report. Because the meeting also included the R&D team from the U.S., it had dragged on until now.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated.

Rong Qi casually opened it and saw the latest WeChat message.

Li Mi: “Ta-da! Your favorite White Moon is here.”

In that instant, Rong Qi’s heartbeat quickened.

It felt as though a traveler wandering the desert had suddenly spotted an oasis.

But another WeChat message soon followed.

A photo of a large, round, and brilliantly white moon appeared on Rong Qi’s screen.

“…”

Author’s Note:

Li Mi: “Look at this moon! Isn’t it so big, round, and white?”

Rong Qi: “Thanks. Talking past each other.”