Chapter 9: Emergency Notice  

She walked into the living room, her gaze involuntarily sweeping over this “home” she had lived in for nearly two months.  

Her eyes first landed on the enormous beige fabric sofa in the living room. She had always thought it was exceptionally comfortable to sit on, with just the right balance of support and coziness. Now, as if possessed, she crouched down, lifted a corner of the draped sofa cover, and peered at the inconspicuous spot beneath—where the brand label was usually placed.  

A small, gold-embossed metal plaque came into view. It bore a few minimalist English letters: B&B Italia. Next to it was a line of tiny text: Made in Italy.  

Made in Italy? B&B Italia? She vaguely remembered seeing this brand in some design magazine—an internationally renowned top-tier furniture design brand, where even a single armchair could fetch an astronomical price! She had initially thought Zhao Chen had rented a place with great taste in furniture, that the landlord was generous with their spending. But now, it seemed this was far beyond mere generosity!  

She stood up and turned her attention to the sleek white round coffee table. Its surface was smooth as a mirror, with a warm, polished texture. She reached out and touched it—cool and refined, with a jade-like quality. Could this be marble? She crouched again to inspect the joint where the legs met the tabletop—another discreet metal plaque: Cassina. Yet another top-tier Italian furniture brand!  

Yu Ling felt her understanding of this place being violently upended. As if under a spell, she began “treasure hunting” around the house.  

The white enameled cast-iron pot she used daily on the kitchen island had an elegant crown emblem engraved inside the lid—Le Creuset! A premium French cookware brand! She had always thought the pot made stewed meat especially fragrant and retained moisture well—apparently, it wasn’t just her imagination!  

The seemingly ordinary set of white bone china dishes in the cabinet had a delicate blue crown mark on the bottom—Bernardaud! A French national treasure of porcelain! She had previously thought the bowls made meals look particularly appetizing…  

Opening the fridge, she found neatly arranged organic vegetables, imported fruits, premium Wagyu beef, and mineral water with foreign labels (Voss? Evian?). She had simply assumed Zhao Chen valued quality of life, but this was taking “quality” to an entirely different level!  

Her gaze swept over the frosted glass vase holding fresh tulips on the entryway cabinet—its fluid, minimalist design bore no logo, but its texture and craftsmanship were unmistakably high-end. Then there was the floor lamp with its linen shade, the abstract line art on the wall she had mistaken for mere decoration… the warm, smooth hardwood floors beneath her feet…  

The more she looked, the more shocked she became, and the deeper her suspicions grew! Everything in this house, from toiletries to kitchenware, from sofas to the slippers on her feet—even the water she drank daily—seemed to exude an air of “understated luxury”! Zhao Chen had seamlessly integrated them into their daily lives with effortless nonchalance, brushing them off with excuses like “left by the landlord,” “gifts from friends,” or “bargain finds.” All while she, his “ordinary office-worker” wife, unknowingly indulged in a lifestyle of the highest material standards!

This was absolutely not a cozy little rented apartment! This was clearly a luxurious fortress built with top-tier brands, disguised under the veneer of “ordinary”!  

And the master of that fortress…  

Yu Ling spun around, her gaze landing on the open kitchen. Zhao Chen stood with his back to her, wearing that deep blue Little Whale Apron, humming an off-key tune as he skillfully and gracefully… sliced a crisp cucumber with a gleaming chef’s knife that looked obscenely expensive. The cutting board in front of him was a solid slab of dark wood, its grain so beautiful it resembled a work of art (Yu Ling would later learn it was a handcrafted premium walnut board, worth half her wardrobe). Next to him sat a bottle of olive oil, its label adorned with Italian script and an estate illustration she couldn’t decipher…  

“Lingling? What’s got you so lost in thought?” Zhao Chen seemed to sense her stare and turned around, still holding that sharp knife, his face wearing a gentle, harmless smile. His clear amber eyes looked especially innocent under the morning light. “Hungry? What do you want for breakfast? A fried egg sandwich? Or should I make you a soft-boiled egg?”  

His tone was natural and intimate, like any ordinary husband casually asking his wife about her breakfast preference. Sunlight bathed his tall frame, casting a soft golden halo around him. There he stood—wearing a cartoon apron, wielding a top-tier chef’s knife, in a kitchen worth a fortune—asking if she wanted a fried egg or a soft-boiled one…  

The sheer absurdity of the contrast was overwhelming!  

Yu Ling’s heart pounded violently in her chest. The enormous suspicion she had forcibly suppressed now erupted like an awakened volcano! She couldn’t hold back any longer—she *had* to ask!  

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady, but the faint tremor at the end betrayed the storm inside her. Pointing toward the bathroom, she cut straight to the chase:  

“Zhao Chen, those… La Mer, La Prairie… in the bathroom cabinet. And this sofa in the living room—B&B Italia? That pot in the kitchen—Le Creuset? Are these… really left behind by the landlord? Or… gifts from friends?”  

Zhao Chen’s knife paused mid-slice. He set it down and turned to face her fully. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating his calm expression. His amber eyes reflected Yu Ling’s undisguised shock, doubt, and scrutiny with perfect clarity.  

He didn’t answer immediately, simply watching her in silence, his gaze steady and unreadable, as if he had long anticipated this moment. Those few seconds of quiet stretched unbearably in the air thick with the aroma of food.  

Just as the suffocating silence reached its peak, Yu Ling’s phone suddenly rang! The sharp tone shattered the tension.  

Startled, she instinctively pulled out her phone. It was an urgent @everyone notification from the company’s project group chat!  

**[Director Chen Ming]:** @everyone Emergency notice! In half an hour, an impromptu expanded meeting for the “Star Ocean Project” team will be held in the 17th-floor conference room! All members from the marketing department, along with core leads from product and tech, must attend! No exceptions! This is critical!  

A bold, red exclamation point followed the message.

Yu Ling’s heart sank! Something happened with the project?! An emergency expanded meeting called at this hour definitely meant bad news! She had no time to dwell on the origins of Zhao Chen’s luxury items anymore—her professional instincts instantly switched her into battle mode!

“Company emergency! I need to go now!” She spoke rapidly to Zhao Chen, then turned and rushed toward the bedroom to change.

“Wait!” Zhao Chen’s voice came from behind, carrying a barely detectable urgency.

Yu Ling halted mid-step and turned back in confusion.

She saw Zhao Chen stride quickly to the entryway cabinet—the same drawer where the Maserati key had been casually tossed—and pull out another car key, this one bearing a winged shield emblem (Bentley). Without even glancing at it, he shoved the key into Yu Ling’s hand, his tone unprecedentedly stern and brooking no argument:

“Take my car. At this hour, taxis will be stuck in traffic, and the subway won’t get you there in time.” His words were rapid-fire, his sharp gaze locked onto her. “The key’s yours—the car’s parked downstairs in reserved spot B-18, a black sedan. Drive safe! Call me immediately if anything comes up!”

Yu Ling stared at the heavy, intricately designed Bentley key in her palm, then back at Zhao Chen’s unyieldingly serious expression. Her mind reeled! A Bentley?! Drive a Bentley to work?! This was a hundred times more shocking than those luxury daily-use items!

“I… I can’t drive this…” Yu Ling instinctively tried to refuse, her voice cracking. Drive a car worth millions? She wouldn’t dare touch it!

“Automatic transmission—drives like any regular car!” Zhao Chen cut her off, his tone ironclad, carrying the commanding pressure of someone used to giving orders—nothing like the mild, unassuming “ordinary employee” he usually appeared as. “No delays! Go now! Every minute counts!” He yanked open the front door and gently pushed the still-stunned Yu Ling out.

The door slammed shut behind her.

Standing alone in the silent hallway, Yu Ling clutched the Bentley key—this symbol of staggering wealth and deeper mysteries—its cold metal edges digging painfully into her palm. Downstairs, that understated yet luxurious black Bentley Mulsanne waited silently in reserved parking spot B-18.

The company’s unknown emergency loomed like storm clouds overhead.

The Bentley key burned in her hand like a red-hot brand.

And behind that closed door, the man who wore the Little Whale Apron—the iceberg hidden beneath his gentle facade—had finally revealed a staggering glimpse of its true magnitude.

Yu Ling took a deep breath, the hallway’s cold air filling her lungs. She glanced at the glaring meeting notification on her phone, then down at the weighty key in her palm.

No time for hesitation!

Gritting her teeth as if marching to battle, she turned and sprinted toward the elevator! The sharp clicks of her heels echoed through the empty corridor—urgent and resolute.