Chapter 10

Lin Koukou truly had a knack for shocking everyone with her words. They had all been observing together, with only a limited amount of time and barely a few words exchanged. The information they could gather was minimal—how could she boldly claim that the person had a habitual tendency to cheat, possibly even having an affair?

Sun Kecheng voiced the question on everyone’s mind.  

Yet Lin Koukou wasn’t in a hurry to explain. Instead, she swept an amused glance over the group and asked, “If it turns out to be true, does this round count as my win?”  

The others exchanged silent looks, unsure whether to agree.  

Only Pei Shu, who had remained quiet until now, suddenly interjected, “It counts.”  

His word was final.  

No one objected.  

Lin Koukou then elaborated, “First, the ring. He entered the private room twice—the first time, he was wearing a ring, but the second time, he’d taken it off. That’s why some said he wore one while others said he didn’t. A ring indicates marriage, yet he removed it upon re-entering. Given his position, we can rule out professional necessity. That leaves only two possibilities: either he had just met—or was about to meet—a lover, or there’s someone in this very room he wanted to approach.”  

At this, everyone shot her a glance.  

Pei Shu simply asked, “And the second point?”  

Lin Koukou continued, “Second, the perfume. What he was wearing wasn’t men’s cologne—it was a newly released women’s fragrance from a luxury brand this year, priced at 600 euros per bottle and globally limited in distribution. It’s not something you can just pick up anywhere. Even if he could afford it, it didn’t seem like his style. So, the scent had to come from someone else—most likely a female perfume enthusiast.”  

Perfume wasn’t something most people paid close attention to, especially since the average sense of smell wasn’t that sharp.  

But this particular fragrance was unmistakable. Zhao Shede owned a bottle and had once let Lin Koukou smell it, asking if it reminded her of the scent of Hell money burned for the dead. That’s why it left such a vivid impression on her.  

The group exchanged bewildered looks.  

Even Pei Shu frowned.  

Meng Zhixing, speaking for the others, was the first to voice skepticism: “Age, education, even past experiences—those are objective facts we can verify later by asking around. But your judgment involves privacy. How can we prove whether your conclusion is accurate?”  

Lin Koukou smiled. “Isn’t it simple?”  

Most men had lower moral standards than women, especially when it came to topics about sexual partners.  

Women rarely brought it up voluntarily.  

But a significant number of men would openly discuss such matters, particularly in all-male company—sometimes even bragging about it.  

They didn’t hold back among their own.  

Lin Koukou said, “Send someone to ask him directly. You might just get your answer.”  

The others didn’t grasp her meaning.  

Only Pei Shu clearly caught the flicker of mockery in her eyes. After a moment’s thought, he said, “I’ll go.”  

He actually stood up and left.  

Now, no one doubted the outcome. Others might struggle, but if their Boss took matters into his own hands, there was no way he wouldn’t get an answer.  

As the restaurant began serving dishes, everyone ate while waiting.  

Ten minutes later, Pei Shu returned with a dark expression.  

“Well?” they all asked.  

Pei Shu didn’t speak. He just glanced at Lin Koukou and gave a single nod.  

“Whoa!”  

The private room erupted in chatter, everyone talking at once.

“Holy shit, no way, is it really that ridiculous?”  

“He seemed like such a decent guy…”  

“An older man who loves dressing up—definitely up to something. It’s an ironclad rule.”  

“I can’t believe it…”  

…  

The group chattered noisily, some even unable to hold back curses.  

Only a handful noticed that Pei Shu had been sitting with a face as dark as thunder ever since he returned, as if someone owed him eight million.  

Sun Kecheng’s heart pounded: “What’s wrong with you?”  

Lin Koukou’s eyes gleamed: “Did something else happen while Consultant Pei was outside just now?”  

Hearing this, the room fell silent.  

Pei Shu stared at Lin Koukou, expressionless: “He’s gay.”  

“…”  

“…”  

“…”  

The private room was suddenly dead silent.  

All eyes were fixed on Pei Shu’s face, watching as he made an indescribable expression after saying those words. It was impossible not to let imaginations run wild.  

Someone was the first to crack, letting out a laugh.  

Then, the entire room erupted into uproarious laughter, everyone doubling over in hysterics.  

“So the second time he took off the ring, the target he wanted to approach was…?”  

“I can’t—I’m dying of laughter…”  

“It all makes sense now—the slicked-back hair, the obsession with looks. Why didn’t we think of that earlier?”  

“So Yuan Zengxi wasn’t wrong earlier—he was looking in that direction, just not at Consultant Lin, hahaha…”  

“Right, isn’t Boss and Consultant Lin sitting in the same direction?”  

“Hahaha, Pei, what exactly happened to you just now?”  

Even Lin Koukou, after staring at Pei Shu’s stony face for three seconds, couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing along with the others: “Well, that wasn’t something I considered.”  

She had just joined Crossroads and was still somewhat distant from the group.  

But this unrestrained laugh instantly shattered the aloof impression she had given off, making her seem more vivid and approachable.  

Only Pei Shu sat there with a darkened face, suddenly feeling like an outsider.  

He picked up his chopsticks and jabbed them forcefully onto the table, saying coldly, “Laugh all you want. Unless something unexpected happens, this is our last meal at this restaurant.”  

After digging up all the dirt on the restaurant manager, how could they ever look him in the eye again?  

Sun Kecheng certainly wouldn’t be booking this place anymore.  

There was no doubt that Lin Koukou had won the earlier game.  

The group conceded defeat and drank their penalty shots.  

Meng Zhixing even came over specifically to toast her.  

If there had been any doubts about Lin Koukou’s abilities before, most of them had now dissolved. She had earned their respect with her skills.  

In its place was sheer curiosity about her.  

After a few rounds of drinks, the table buzzed with questions.  

“When you were featured in *Headhunter Circle* magazine, did they pay you for the interview, or did you pay them a fee?”  

“Neither. It was mutual exploitation.”  

“Someone said that Consultant Lin once made a bold claim at a salon, telling a peer that even if they worked hard for another hundred years, they still wouldn’t catch up to you even if you took on jobs half-heartedly.”  

“…I did say that.”  

“The exact words were, ‘You could work hard for another hundred years and still never catch up to Daddy even if he half-asses it.’”  

“Ahem, that was years ago. I don’t do that now…”  

“Is it true that Consultant Lin was blacklisted by most of Shanghai’s HR back in the day? How did that get resolved?”  

…  

Once the questions started, they just kept coming.

Especially Ye Xiang, the leader of the second team, who seemed to know every detail about her past, asking questions like a census taker—it was downright unsettling.

Lin Koukou truly hadn’t realized she had so many legends circulating in the industry.

Afraid the interrogation would drag on indefinitely, she quickly downed three glasses of wine before excusing herself, claiming she couldn’t hold her liquor and needed some air, then made a swift escape.

The private room was on the second floor, and at the end of the hallway was a spacious terrace.

Lin Koukou hadn’t drunk much, but she had always been a lightweight, prone to getting tipsy easily. Feeling genuinely woozy, she followed the path to the terrace for some fresh air.

Unexpectedly, Pei Shu was already there.

Earlier, during the drinking session, he had stepped out to take a call. The moment Lin Koukou arrived, she overheard his lazy, indifferent tone: “I told you, I’m not interested in Song Qing. Don’t randomly set me up like this…”

Song Qing?

If she remembered correctly, that was the name of Quantum Group’s HR director.

Lin Koukou raised an eyebrow inadvertently upon hearing this. Not wanting to eavesdrop, she didn’t disturb him, instead walking to the left corner of the terrace and exhaling deeply to clear the alcohol from her system.

Pei Shu, however, spotted her immediately. After a brief pause, he said a few more words into the phone before ending the call with a curt “Something came up.”

He had been sitting on a terrace chair, sipping a drink he’d brought out.

Now, he stood up and took a couple of steps toward Lin Koukou, stopping behind her. “Consultant Lin, what brings you out here?”

“Just sobering up,” Lin Koukou turned her head slightly. “Did I interrupt your call?”

Pei Shu replied, “Just a casual chat—no harm done. Though I’d assumed Consultant Lin had a decent tolerance for alcohol. Our company is small, with a flat structure. The first and second teams are used to being rowdy, and they tend to push drinks at gatherings like this. Coming from Direction, you might not be accustomed to it yet.”

Lin Koukou had indeed noticed this.

At Crossroads, relationships between people seemed closer—less like colleagues, more like friends. Subordinates didn’t respect their superiors solely because of rank, but more because of their abilities.

Just like how everyone’s attitude toward her had shifted after the Headhunter Game.

Direction, being a much larger firm with more employees, only saw such gatherings during major events like annual meetings.

And even then, senior executives and ordinary Headhunting Consultants were kept separate.

This kind of atmosphere—she hadn’t experienced it in a long time.

But still…

Lin Koukou studied Pei Shu and said, “Sounds like you really don’t like Direction.”

Pei Shu smiled faintly. “I don’t.”

Lin Koukou pressed, “But after competing with you for so long, I still don’t understand why. At first, I thought you were targeting me, but then I realized you were meddling in every deal involving Direction. Now that I’ve joined Crossroads, you’ve allowed it. So I can only assume it’s about Direction. What exactly is your grudge against them?”

Pei Shu sidestepped the question and countered, “Then why is Consultant Lin so famously averse to HR? What’s your grudge with them?”

“…”

“…”

The breeze on the terrace carried a hint of spring night’s chill. They stood a few steps apart, scrutinizing each other.

Clearly, they had both touched on topics the other didn’t want to address.

A silent standoff, laced with mutual probing.

Neither spoke.

Only when footsteps and clamor came from behind the corridor door did Lin Koukou glance in that direction and say, “Let’s talk another day. I’m heading back first.”

She turned to leave.

Pei Shu checked the time on his phone and figured it was about time to return as well. He trailed a few steps behind her at a leisurely pace.

Unexpectedly, just as Lin Koukou reached for the door handle, her movements abruptly froze.

Two voices arguing could be heard from the corridor.

Pei Shu, puzzled by her sudden stillness, approached to ask what was wrong. But upon hearing the voices inside, his brow arched slightly, and he cast an odd look at Lin Koukou instead.

Backlit by the light, Lin Koukou stood with lowered lashes, her expression unreadable.

Through the door, the voices in the corridor were crystal clear.

Two men—one sounding increasingly flustered, the other laced with icy mockery.

“The Ocean Group’s order for 16 executive positions is worth 30 million in total. I was the one who initially reached out for this deal!”

“So what?”

“We’re both from Direction. To outsiders, we’re on the same team. Don’t you think it’s excessive to hog the entire deal for yourself?”

“Excessive? You didn’t think it was excessive when you all ganged up to force her out.”

“He Chuang, you—!”

“If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving.”

“What are you so arrogant about? Just because she favored you back then, you think you’re some kind of prodigy?”

Lin Koukou knew both of them.

Even Pei Shu recognized them.

One was Gu Xiangdong, the other He Chuang—both had been personally trained by Lin Koukou and served as her right-hand men at Direction.

But when Direction had forced Lin Koukou out, one had staunchly stood by her side, while the other had defected to management, taking clients and resources with him, stabbing her in the back.

Now, Gu Xiangdong had successfully taken over Lin Koukou’s position as the director of Compass Headhunting.

Unfortunately for him, He Chuang had stayed on as deputy director.

Gu Xiangdong’s professional skills paled in comparison to He Chuang’s, and He Chuang showed him no respect in the company. The two were practically rivals, so friction between them was inevitable.

But this…

This was outright hostility.

Pei Shu couldn’t help but smirk. Luck was on his side—stepping out to make a phone call had led him to this little drama.

Lin Koukou, however, was clearly in no mood to appreciate it.

Her hand slowly withdrew from the door handle as she took a step back.

Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed Pei Shu standing right behind her and nearly bumped into him.

Thankfully, Pei Shu reacted quickly, steadying her with a hand on her waist.

Lin Koukou turned her head.

Pei Shu raised a finger to his lips, signaling silence, then whispered with a grin, “Gu Xiangdong’s ambition outweighs his talent, so his betrayal isn’t surprising. But He Chuang—skilled, bold, and yet he didn’t kick you while you were down or try to replace you. Instead, he stayed loyal. Now that’s unexpected.”

The words themselves were harmless, but perhaps because her mind was preoccupied, they carried an unintended weight to her ears.

Lin Koukou frowned, averted her gaze, and moved to put some distance between them.

But just as she moved slightly and turned her head, a sharp tug of pain from her scalp made her involuntarily let out a soft hiss.

—It turned out that her loose hair had caught on Pei Shu’s suit button during their earlier near-collision, and now it was pulling taut with every movement.

On the other side of the door, Gu Xiangdong in the hallway was growing increasingly agitated, while He Chuang seemed uninterested in engaging and walked off in another direction. On the terrace, Lin Koukou and Pei Shu found themselves staring at each other in silence, neither speaking a word.

Finally, Pei Shu lowered his voice and said, “Let me,” before bending down to untangle her hair from his suit button.

They were too close.

She carried a faint scent of alcohol and the elusive fragrance of lime and basil perfume. Her slightly curled long hair, bathed in the warm glow of the nearby wall lamp, coiled around his fingers like drifting seaweed.

Pei Shu distinctly felt his heartbeat skip a beat at that moment, accompanied by a slight physical reaction.

Outwardly composed, he fumbled with the strands, only to tangle them even tighter.

Lin Koukou frowned and silently looked at him.

Pei Shu paused, met her gaze, then suddenly pressed his lips into a thin line. Lowering his eyes, he gripped the button and yanked it forcefully.

With a sharp “snap,” the thread securing the button broke, sending it tumbling down. The hair that had been wound around it instantly loosened, unfurling like a wisp of soft smoke.

Lin Koukou froze in surprise.

Pei Shu, however, exhaled slowly in relief.

Neither had expected the sound of the button popping off to be so loud, nor had they anticipated Pei Shu’s elbow accidentally knocking against the doorframe in the process, creating another noise.

The commotion reached the hallway.

Gu Xiangdong instinctively turned toward the door. “Who’s there?” he demanded.