Chapter 20 – The Chameleon, Meng Yanchen

Meng Yanchen had just finished signing a document when his phone lit up—Xiao Yixiao was calling.

“Hello.”

His voice was calm, devoid of emotion.

“Old Meng, Qin Qin’s coming to the bar tonight,” Xiao Yixiao said, testing the waters.

“Mm.”

A faint reply. “I know.”

There was silence on the other end, then a startled, “K-Know? What do you mean, you know’? You’re not coming?”

“I have something to do.”

“Something to do? It’s almost after hours—what could you possibly have to do?”

Xiao Yixiao dropped his voice, probing, “Did you two fight again? In the past, no matter what, even if knives fell from the sky, if Qin Qin was there, you’d show up.”

“Not anymore.”

His tone was detached. “Don’t let her drink too much. If it gets late, have Song Yan take her home.”

Click. The call ended.

Xiao Yixiao stared at his phone, bewildered, then turned to Zhan Xiaorao.

“Am I hallucinating, or did I just see a ghost?”

“What nonsense are you on about?”

Xiaorao leaned closer. “What did Meng Yanchen say?”

“He said…”

Xiao Yixiao repeated mechanically, “to let Song Yan take her home.”

Then he rubbed his face. “What, did someone finally lift the curse off him?”

Zhan Xiaorao rolled her eyes. “The two of them really did fight, didn’t they? I’ll ask Qin Qin later.”

“If you ask me,” Xiao Yixiao leaned back lazily, “if Old Meng’s finally come to his senses, that’s a good thing. Qin Qin’s already engaged to Song Yan. She should just live her life in peace. No need for the three of them to stay tangled up.”

“What kind of talk is that!”

Zhan Xiaorao glared at him. “Even if they’re engaged, Meng Yanchen has been her brother for over twenty years. You think just because he loves her and can’t have her, she should stop being his sister?”

Xiao Yixiao shook his head. “You’re biased. You have no idea how Old Meng has lived all these years. He’s my brother—if you won’t feel sorry for him, I will.”

“Enough!”

Zhan Xiaorao cut him off. “I stand with Qin Qin. If Meng Yanchen really can be this heartless, then he’s worse than trash.”

The two bickered on, oblivious to the figure at the bar counter.

Leaf quietly slid her phone back into her pocket, the corners of her lips curling into a meaningful smile.

—

Just as Meng Yanchen hung up, the phone lit up again.

This time, it was Shi Yan.

“Yanchen, are you free tonight? Let’s have dinner. About that project you mentioned—I want to talk it over.”

“Fine.”

Meng Yanchen glanced at his watch. “Seven o’clock. Lantingxuan.”

He hung up, picked up his suit jacket, and was about to leave when the office door opened with a soft knock.

Qin Yu stepped inside. “President Meng…”

“Tomorrow.” Meng Yanchen cut him off with a raised hand.

“It’s Miss Fan,” Qin Yu said quickly.

The act of adjusting his tie froze mid-motion. After a pause, he set the jacket down and turned back toward his desk.

“Send her in.”

—

It was Fan Shengmei’s first time stepping into Meng Yanchen’s office.

Spacious, sleek, with floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city skyline. His desk was neatly stacked with files. A faint fragrance of sandalwood lingered in the air.

“What is it?” His voice was flat.

She walked straight forward, thrusting her phone in front of him.

“This man—is he part of your new project’s management team?”

She leaned in, pointing at the image of Yang Chengdong on her screen. Her hair carried the fresh scent of green citrus.

But Meng Yanchen’s gaze lingered on her instead. Her chest rose and fell—she’d clearly rushed over.

So anxious?

She wore the same pale blue dress from that day outside the aquarium. It recalled the little girl who had clung to her, calling her Mom, and the man standing by her side—Chen Jiakang.

“What’s the problem?” His tone cooled further.

Fan Shengmei frowned. “Did you personally vet the backgrounds of everyone tied to this energy project?”

Energy project.

So she had come about Chen Jiakang.

His expression darkened. He had canceled Jiakang’s interview, and now she was here begging for him?

No wonder she rushed over. And she thought he would bend the rules for her?

“President Meng?” she pressed again.

“Miss Fan.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes behind his glasses glinting with ice.

“First of all, you’re not a Guokun employee. Even if you were, the energy project has its own internal team. No one else is allowed to probe into it. What position are you in to question me?”

His fingers tapped the desk lightly. “This behavior could make me suspect you’re here to steal trade secrets.”

Fan Shengmei froze.

Was this man a chameleon? Last time they met, he was perfectly cordial. Now, this?

Right—she shouldn’t let a few scraps of kindness trick her into thinking they were friends.

A couple of milk teas didn’t mean they were from the same world.

The phone buzzed again.

“Hello?”

Meng Yanchen answered without looking away from her.

“Yanchen, I’m almost at Lantingxuan. Are you on your way?” Shi Yan’s voice floated through the receiver.

“You go ahead.”

His gaze roved over Fan Shengmei’s face. “I have something else.”

He hung up. Silence thickened in the room.

Fan Shengmei drew in breath. “If you’re busy, I’ll go. Sorry to take up your time.”

You?

His face darkened.

Always the same line. Always so eager to push him away.

“I told you—I’m not busy. Say it.” His voice hardened, stubborn.

“There’s nothing. I shouldn’t have meddled. Pretend I was never here.”

She turned on her heel. His throat worked; he wanted to call her back, but the words stuck.

The more she thought, the angrier she grew. After only a few steps, she spun back, slamming a palm on his desk.

“Meng Yanchen, are you sick?”

His pupils are constricted.

“Aren’t you the one who meditates with incense all day? What, did all that cultivation get shoved down a dog’s stomach? Thank God you’re rich, or who would tolerate this mood swing of yours?”

The office fell into stunned silence.

Behind his glasses, his eyes widened. He hadn’t expected her to scold him so directly.

He knew he wasn’t in the right, yet stubbornly spat out four words:

“I don’t need to.”

“…What?”

“I don’t need to accommodate anyone. Because I’m rich.” His words were slow, his face serious.

Fan Shengmei was speechless. She braced her hands on his desk, laughing in exasperation.

He adjusted his glasses, tone softening slightly.

“So—you came here because of the energy roadshow?”

She sighed, pulling out her phone again to show the photo.

“Yang Chengdong. He used to be a risk control manager at our company. Fired for feeding bids to competitors. I processed the paperwork myself. By rights, he should still be under a two-year industry ban.”

She tapped the desk. “And you’re telling me you’re comfortable handing a core project to someone with that kind of stain on his record?”

Meng Yanchen stilled. “So… that’s why you came?”

“Of course. What else did you think?”

Her tone was matter of fact. “I thought about it on the way here. If he got into your company, it’s not just about a falsified résumé. Someone inside had to let him through.”

Her voice was crisp, her logic sharp. His eyes flickered behind the lenses.

Strangely, a faint rush of satisfaction stirred in his chest.

She wasn’t here for Chen Jiakang—she was here for this.

“I see.”

His tone was calm, though his fingers absently brushed the desk surface. “I’ll handle it. Thank you.”

Just then, the phone rang again.

This time, it was Zhan Xiaorao.

“Hello.”

“Meng Yanchen!” Her voice was urgent. “Qin Qin’s drunk. You need to—”

“Have Xiao Yixiao call Song Yan.”

He cut her off cleanly and ended the call.

Fan Shengmei stood. “Alright then. Since you’re aware, I won’t disturb you further. Looks like you’ve got a busy night ahead.”

“I’ll see you off.”

He rose abruptly, striding toward the elevator without waiting for her response. His thumb pressed down on the power button of his phone—shutting it off.

—

At the bar—

Zhan Xiaorao lowered her phone, shaking her head at Xu Qin across the room.

Opposite Xu Qin, Leaf’s lips curved in smug triumph.

“Told you. He’s not coming.”