Chapter 40.2

The driver thought for a moment. “Near Nan’an University, there are a lot of students, so some places might still be open.”

“Take us there, please.”

“But it’s a bit out of the way.”

“That’s fine.”

Chu Qi grew more puzzled. “You’re craving fried chicken in the middle of the night? I didn’t know you liked it that much.”

“It’s for Song Wei,” Chen Jubai replied simply. He knew he was at fault earlier in the day, and though he wasn’t sure if she was upset, he wanted to make amends.

After a pause, doubt crept in—was fried chicken enough to cheer her up? Turning to Chu Qi, he asked hesitantly, “When your girlfriend used to get upset, what did you do?”

Chu Qi sat up straight, curiosity and gossip written all over his face. “Did you upset Song Wei?”

Admitting it with a nod, Chen Jubai said, “Yes, I made a mistake.”

Chu Qi was astonished. Was this the same suave, self-assured CEO he’d just seen effortlessly navigating the social scene?

Embarrassed, Chen Jubai glanced at him, his expression cool again. “Forget it. Pretend I didn’t ask.”

“No, no, let’s talk about it.” Chu Qi chuckled, then offered his advice. “To be honest, I don’t have much experience. My ex-girlfriend spent over two years abroad. Most of the time she got upset, it was because I didn’t reply to her messages quickly enough or forgot important dates like her birthday or anniversaries.”

Chen Jubai listened intently.

“And how did I make it up to her? By spoiling her, of course—whatever she liked to eat, drink, or wear, I got it for her. But beyond that, you have to give her what she truly values. For example, if it’s about replying to messages, you’d better respond promptly for at least a week afterward. Otherwise, you’re done for.”

“Got it. Thanks,” Chen Jubai replied, taking the advice to heart.

He turned his phone off silent mode and adjusted the notification settings so only Song Wei’s messages would come through, muting everyone else.

Curious, Chu Qi leaned over. “What did you do to upset her, anyway?”

Chen Jubai dismissed him with a calm, “Nothing major.”

Chu Qi gave up prying and slouched back. “Fine, let’s go buy that fried chicken then—your late-night peace offering.”

At home, Song Wei had dinner at her father’s place before returning to avoid getting Chen Jubai in trouble.

By 9 p.m., she’d showered and settled in with her cat, Snowflake, in the living room to work.

The gloomy weather outside, with heavy clouds hanging low over the city, signaled an impending downpour. She carried Snowflake to the window, watching the neon lights blur through the misty air, creating a dreamlike scene.

After a moment, she decided to move a single armchair closer to the floor-to-ceiling window. Struggling with its weight, she eventually settled for a dining chair.

The first thing she did was order a portable recliner online—such a beautiful view deserved to be enjoyed in full comfort.

Next, she opened WeChat and began drafting a message: “It might rain soon. Tell the driver to park in the underground garage.” After a moment of hesitation, she deleted it, feeling it was unnecessary.

As the rain started pattering down, transitioning briefly into a heavy shower before settling into a steady rhythm, Song Wei felt her focus sharpen. Immersed in her work, the sound of rain provided a calming backdrop, and she enjoyed the quiet solitude.

By 10 p.m., she’d finished her tasks for the day. Closing her laptop, she picked up her phone to browse WeChat.

Her gossip group chat was buzzing with activity—99+ unread messages. Curious, she scrolled back to the beginning and froze.

The conversation had started with two photos shared by Xiao Xu: one of Ning Shuhui and Chen Jubai standing side by side, looking at something off-camera, and the other of them talking to each other. Both were impeccably dressed, exuding a powerful aura. Together, they looked like a perfect match.

The accompanying comment read: “Wow, what a stunning couple!”

Someone replied: “Are they getting engaged?”

Xiao Xu clarified: “Don’t jump to conclusions. It’s Sister Ning’s birthday at her family’s place.”

Speculation continued: “So, is this President Chen meeting the parents? Or is Sister Ning using this as a chance to help him climb the ranks?”

“They really look perfect together!”

“Step aside, I’m officially shipping this couple!”

Song Wei skimmed through the comments but stopped scrolling after a few lines. She returned to examine the two photos again.

It was Ning Shuhui’s birthday, and she looked immaculate as if every strand of her hair was adorned with diamonds. Her radiant and poised demeanor exuded elegance and class, truly embodying the grace of a wealthy heiress.

At the top of her screen, a notification popped up from Zhu Qingfei:
“Weiwei, are you guys planning to go public? Look at what’s being said in the group. If this keeps spreading, by tomorrow President Chen might as well be registering his marriage with Ning Shuhui!”

Song Wei didn’t reply. She turned off her phone and set it aside, hugging her knees while staring at the rain pouring outside.

No one had done anything wrong—not the gossiping colleagues or anyone else. It was just the inevitable consequence of their decision to keep things under wraps. If not Ning Shuhui, the rumors would eventually involve someone else—perhaps a business partner. This moment was bound to come sooner or later.

Still, she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of sadness. Perhaps it was the misunderstanding of their relationship. Or maybe it was because the people in the photos really did look so well-matched.

Finally, she understood the expression in Zhuo Wan’s eyes the first time they met. It wasn’t jealousy but disbelief and resentment—a certainty that Song Wei didn’t belong, that the person standing next to him should have been Ning Shuhui.

Song Wei didn’t think there was anything wrong with herself, nor did she believe she wasn’t good enough for him. Yet under the overwhelming tide of public opinion, it was hard not to wonder—if he were to marry Ning Shuhui, would it help his career more? Would he… regret his choice?

She knew these thoughts were unproductive, but she couldn’t stop them from spiraling.

It was similar to the self-doubt and isolation she felt during the layoffs, knowing she was stuck but unable to break free.

Back then, she could escape to Nan’an and start anew. Now, what could she do?

Her cat, Snowflake, rubbed against her chair. Song Wei leaned down to pick it up, stroking its head and letting her mind drift blankly.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she heard the sound of a key turning in the lock.

Like she used to when facing her parents’ divorce, she instantly adjusted her mood. She walked over with a bright smile.
“You’re back?”

The man stood in the doorway, his suit jacket dampened by the rain. Song Wei asked, “Did you get caught in the rain?”

“It’s fine.” Chen Jubai handed her a bag, and the aroma of fried chicken wafted out. Song Wei’s face lit up in surprise.
“You bought fried chicken?”

“Mm, I got it on the way.”

“Thank you.” Song Wei took the bag. “Go take a shower first. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Alright.”

Instead of showering, Chen Jubai changed into dry clothes in the bedroom and came back out. Song Wei was already sitting at the dining table, eating.
“Want some?” she asked.

“I’m not hungry,” he replied, sitting beside her, his eyes fixed on her.

Song Wei, wearing gloves, was halfway through a chicken wing. She turned to meet his gaze and smiled faintly.
“Don’t stare at me like that. It’s making me self-conscious.”

Chen Jubai’s lips curved as he gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His movements were tender.

Though she didn’t seem angry, he still felt the need to apologize.
“About this afternoon—I’m sorry. I got too busy and forgot. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” Song Wei’s smile was warm. “Did you talk to the 4S store?”

“Yes, they asked us to go back on Friday.”

“Then let’s go Friday.”

“What were you planning to tell me tonight?”

Song Wei paused before remembering the message she had sent him at lunch.
“Oh, nothing important. Just that Chu Qi wants to take Qingfei out for dinner.”

“Mm. Don’t worry; Chu Qi knows what he’s doing.”

He changed the subject.
“What did Dad cook today?”

“Sweet-and-sour ribs and soup.”

“Is the fried chicken still crispy?”

“Crispy. Where did you buy it?”

“Just picked it up on the way—don’t remember exactly.”

“Alright, but there’s too much. Help me finish some.”

Song Wei picked up a small drumstick and held it out to him. Chen Jubai leaned in and took a bite, his eyes never leaving hers.

After eating, he leaned closer and kissed her lightly on the lips. Before she could react, he whispered,
“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Song Wei froze for a moment, then smiled softly.
“Really, I’m fine.”

Their eyes met for a few seconds before he leaned in again. She tried to fend him off with her hand holding the drumstick, laughing lightly.
“Hey, I’m still eating—it smells like fried chicken!”

“I don’t mind.”

He cupped her face with both hands and deepened the kiss.