Chapter 34: Did You Date in College?

A full forty minutes of presentation, and the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The overly serious atmosphere pushed Gu Yao to focus even more on efficiency—there were still several rounds of Q&A with the leadership coming up, and she couldn’t afford to hog all the time.

But to explain the system clearly, she first had to get herself to relax.

Yet the presence of the top leader made that infinitely harder.

As the demo concluded, Gu Yao turned off the mic for now, picked up her water, and took a small sip, waiting patiently.

When the room remained silent longer than expected, she was just starting to wonder when a composed, low voice came from the remote video feed.

Zhou Zhengliang was flipping through the system documentation and, drawing on what had just been presented, got straight to the heart of the matter: “What was the reasoning behind pushing anomaly alerts to all internal IPs?”

A real heavyweight indeed.

His very first question cut straight through.

Gu Yao steadied herself, looked calmly at the audience, and answered with complete seriousness:
“Joy shared is joy doubled. If someone’s dreaming about making a fortune, why let him hoard the dream alone? Make it public—let everyone get a share. Isn’t that better?”

As soon as the words landed, the room fell into absolute silence.

The attending leaders looked as if they’d been hit with a freezing spell—no one moved an inch.

What nonsense had she just said?

Xu Dongping slowly shifted his gaze, checking the others’ reactions.

Yep.

Everyone was equally shocked—yet no one dared make a sound.

The thick tension hung in the air for who knew how long—

—until a faint chuckle came from Zhou Zhengliang on the video feed.

A quiet sound.

Emotion unclear, calm and unreadable.

But to the ears of the Director of the Development and Reform Commission, it was more like a sword being drawn—cold and sharp.

Once this new system was up and running, as the one in charge, he’d have to constantly reflect on himself—no cutting corners anymore.

Honestly, the girl’s words, though bold on the surface, weren’t wrong.

The top leader didn’t just want to hear her explanation—he wanted the whole room of officials to hear it too.

It was meant to stir things up.

Gu Yao discreetly let out a breath of relief. At that moment—mission complete—she felt an unexpected sense of honor.

Just then, Xu Mo walked in with documents to be signed.

Through the video, they could hear the pen gliding across paper—soft scratching sounds.

In the silence, Zhou Zhengliang calmly closed the file and asked, “What’s everyone’s take on the alert distribution method?”

The moment had come—no dodging it.

Naturally, the Director had to go first.

Collecting his thoughts, the seasoned official gave his recommendation:
“The self-audit function has just gone live. I suggest we let departments test it out first. If there are no major objections, then we can roll it out across the full government network.”

Others quickly chimed in agreement.

It sounded like support for the current push method, but with a buffer period.

Cunning old fox.

If people start raising issues during testing, wouldn’t that mean endless tweaks again, and the full launch would be indefinitely delayed?

Just as he finished grumbling inwardly—

—they heard the top leader issue a clear order:
“Two months. When the trial period ends, implement it fully.”

“Yes, we’ll follow through internally.”

At this point, no one dared disagree.

Zhou Zhengliang had other official matters to attend to, so he didn’t stay for the remaining thirty-minute discussion.

Before the call ended, he left one final remark:
“The system reform is starting to take shape. While refining functions, don’t forget the contributions of those at the grassroots level.”

Gu Yao looked up in surprise.

She never expected the top leader to actually…

Clearly, that was meant for Section Chief Meng.

Before Meng could speak, the Director responded first:
“Rest assured, Secretary Zhou. Our departments at the Reform Commission always reward fairly. Xiao Gu did well—she deserves recognition.”

Meng Changjun, ever the observer, said nothing, but the look in his eyes as he glanced at the young woman was filled with approval.

Section Chief Xu, standing nearby like background furniture, now saw Gu Yao in a whole new light.

He thought to himself—

Such a young woman, calm and capable. A real talent. And if Secretary Zhou takes her under his wing? She’ll go far.

Honestly, he’d judged her right from the start.

That said—

Gu Yao cared less about verbal praise than about the actual reward.

Paid leave? Bonus payout?

Unfortunately, it was neither.

After the meeting, Section Chief Meng called her into his office and dropped a bombshell:
“Xiao Gu, interested in experiencing a new work environment?”

New environment?!

Her first reaction—was this her crow’s mouth coming true?

Seeing her stunned expression, Meng Changjun smiled gently and cut to the chase:
“There’s an opening for an information security position at City Hall. Pay and benefits are about the same, but it offers better long-term development.”

Gu Yao was confused.

Based on job scope, staying in the Project Division made better use of her skills.

Why would the City Hall post be better?

As she mulled it over, Meng added,
“If you’re not sure yet, take your time. There’s no rush.”

She hadn’t said a word—

—but it felt like he already knew exactly what she was thinking.

Gu Yao nodded. “Thank you for the advice, Section Chief. I’ll give it serious thought and get back to you soon.”

“No pressure—just follow your heart.”

In other words, the transfer was optional.

If she didn’t want to go, no one would force her.

That night, Gu Yao couldn’t stop thinking about it and decided to get her old man’s advice.

She called her father.

At that moment, her parents were watching TV in the living room.

When the call came in, Gu Jingming turned down the volume and answered the phone under his wife’s watchful gaze.

“Dad, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

After listening to her explanation, Gu Jingming thought for a moment and asked her opinion.

Propping her chin with her hand and puffing out her cheeks, she said bluntly,
“That information security role—it’s basically a cushy job.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

Director Gu corrected her attitude.
“Even the most idle-sounding job has its value and purpose. You’re still young—don’t be arrogant. Learn to respect every position.”

“Dad, you misunderstood.”

She sat up straight and explained,
“I’m just worried that if I transfer to City Hall and it turns out to be a bad fit, what then?”

What she really feared was going soft—losing her edge. But she didn’t say that aloud.

Mothers know best.

Teacher Shen picked up on the real message in a second.

She took the phone from her husband.

Shen Min didn’t beat around the bush:
“Whatever you decide, your father and I will support you. Whether you stay or transfer doesn’t matter—what matters is living up to your choice through action.”

Her mother had a point.

With that affirmation, Gu Yao’s worries melted away.

After the call ended, Gu Jingming turned off the TV, sat cross-legged on the sofa, and humbly asked his wife,
“How do you always see right through her?”

Their daughter had always had strong opinions of her own—she just wanted their blessing.

Teacher Shen gave a light snort and refused to explain.

“Teach you, and I’ll starve.”

Not worth it.

Director Gu was speechless: ……

The next day was the weekend. No work.

Skipping breakfast, she slept in until she woke naturally.

After the recent intense work schedule, once she let herself relax, it was nearly impossible to get up.

At exactly noon, a call woke her.

Groggy, Gu Yao opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling motionless. Only when she fully regained consciousness did she lazily reach for her phone.

A local unknown number—probably a spam call.

But out of habit, she still picked up.

“Hello, who’s this?”
Her tone was devoid of warmth.

Just as she was bracing herself for some telemarketing pitch, there was a brief silence on the other end of the line.

Two seconds later, a deep, magnetic voice came through: “This is Zhou Zhengliang.”

Who?

Gu Yao instinctively held her breath.

Then, her body reacted faster than her mind—she sat up straight from the bed in an instant.

Gripping her phone, she politely asked, “Secretary Zhou, is there something I can help you with?”

Even through the receiver, one could tell the girl’s voice was slightly hoarse.

She probably hadn’t gotten up yet.

Zhou Zhengliang leaned against the balcony railing, the corner of his lips slightly lifted. “If it’s inconvenient to take the call now, I can call back later.”

Uh, no need.

The girl blushed.

It was lunchtime anyway. If she didn’t get up now, she’d starve.

She quickly grabbed her coat, got out of bed, and headed straight to the living room. She opened the laptop on the coffee table, logged into her email, and readied herself for business.

On the other end, she sounded busy as ever.

Zhou Zhengliang chuckled softly, tapped the ash off his cigarette, and interrupted her, “It’s not official business. It’s a personal matter.”

Everything fell silent.

Her thoughts paused for a beat—Gu Yao mulled over his words.

Personal?

Between her and the top leader, what personal matter could there be—

Then she remembered.

Gu Yao quickly said, “Do you have time tonight, Secretary Zhou? Let me treat you to dinner.”

The girl was smart.

Zhou Zhengliang naturally had no objection.

Gu Yao followed up, “Do you have any dietary restrictions?”

Considerate.

But as expected of a gentleman, the leader let her arrange things however she preferred.

Though naive, Gu Yao wasn’t dumb.

During lunch, she secretly messaged Secretary Xu on WeChat to ask about Zhou Zhengliang’s food preferences.

The summary: he preferred light flavors and disliked anything too strong.

The exact opposite of her.

She ruled out the two restaurants she’d originally considered, opened a review app, and continued the search.

Around 3 p.m., she finally settled on a place.

She texted Zhou Zhengliang the time and location.

Minutes later, she received a reply: [Got it.]

Letting out a sigh of relief, she flopped onto the sofa, thinking she’d never again dare to owe a leader a favor.

It was just too stressful.

Given the man’s status, Gu Yao had been extremely meticulous in her selection:
—Avoid busy districts
—Choose a restaurant with low foot traffic
—And make sure the food and service were both five-star rated

So in the end, she picked a little-known Chinese restaurant in the western district.

To avoid keeping him waiting, Gu Yao left thirty minutes early. But traffic was bad, and she arrived just before six.

Pushing open the private room door, she saw Zhou Zhengliang was already there.

There had been a big drop in temperature today. He wore a crisp white shirt with a black trench coat over it. The monochrome palette toned down his authoritative air and made him look more approachable.

Gu Yao reminded herself: Just dinner with a normal friend. Don’t be nervous.

She nodded and took a seat across from him, then asked if they could start bringing in the food.

The girl sat properly with a calm demeanor, but her words still carried a trace of restraint and formality.

Zhou Zhengliang looked at her and asked gently, “Have you ever had dinner alone with a man before?”

Before?

Would her ex-boyfriend count?

Since he asked, he probably didn’t mean Cheng Mu.

“Not really,” she admitted.

As the waiter served the dishes, Gu Yao tried to keep the conversation going to ease the atmosphere.

She said, “Back in college, my parents were always reminding me to focus on my studies and not get distracted by relationships. So even when guys asked me out, I didn’t dare go.”

She was telling the truth.

During her four years at university, she earned the title of “goody two-shoes” in the computer science department. The boys in the dorm even placed bets, trying to get her to agree to a date within three months—no one succeeded.

At Peking University, passing your thesis was way more important than getting a boyfriend.

Besides, back then, she never thought about anything beyond taking the civil service exam.

The room was quiet.

As Gu Yao talked about her college days, Zhou Zhengliang quietly drank his tea and listened attentively.

Toward the end, Gu Yao casually asked, “Secretary Zhou, did you ever date in college?”

Once the words were out, she regretted it.

Wow, gutsy. She’s gossiping about her boss now.

But it was harmless, and a good way to close the distance.

Zhou Zhengliang gently put down his teacup. Under her embarrassed gaze, he recalled the past.

He hadn’t.

After graduation, he was sent straight to the army for two years. When he returned, he entered the system without pause. Once his career stabilized, his family arranged a marriage—routine, really—until the relationship fell apart.

Plain and uneventful.

Gu Yao hadn’t expected the leader’s thirty-five years of life to sound even duller than hers.

Zhou Zhengliang caught her look of quiet surprise and smiled, asking, “How is it different from the story you imagined?”

Very different.

“I thought it’d be more inspirational,” she answered honestly.

In her mind, old-school officials always had some kind of hardship story to share.

But from what he’d said, there wasn’t a trace of—

What was the word?

Maybe… too calm.

As if he were narrating someone else’s life, not his own.

Reading her thoughts, Zhou Zhengliang didn’t try to explain. He merely lifted the corners of his mouth slightly, clearly in a good mood.

Why the good mood?

Because in just ten minutes, her gaze had lingered on his face more than a third of the time.

He had to admit: when it came to winning a girl’s heart, Secretary Zhou had some serious self-taught skills.

Midway through the meal, a waiter brought in a bouquet, claiming it was a complimentary gift to celebrate the restaurant’s two-year anniversary.

Old customer?

She was certain it was her first time here.

Just as she thought it was a mistake, it clicked.

Could it be—Secretary Zhou came here often?

Very likely.

Looking down at the flowers in her arms—tulips adorned with baby’s breath—they were fragrant and full, pure and lovely.

Gu Yao leaned in to smell them. She actually really liked them.

As she looked up to say something, she met Zhou Zhengliang’s gaze head-on.

Under the warm lighting, he was quietly watching her, his expression soft.

Her breath caught.

In that moment, she felt like they were a couple out on a date.

The thought startled her.

She quickly snapped out of it, lowered her gaze, and focused on eating.

During dinner, guided by him, they ended up discussing her career plans. She even accidentally mentioned some quirky habits—

Like the time she moved.

She’d filled a small moving truck with over a dozen storage bags.

Hard to believe a girl living alone had that much stuff.

Gu Yao loved online shopping.

Especially collecting plushies, anime merch blind boxes, and a high-fidelity sound system for her dance mat.

Those were the main reasons she didn’t move in with her cousin.

Of course, she kept the more personal details in check in front of the leader and quickly changed the subject.

As the meal wrapped up, Gu Yao excused herself to the restroom.

At checkout, she was told Mr. Zhou had already paid.

She paused.

Then asked, “May I see the bill?”

The clerk nodded.

Sure.