Chapter 40

The private room was silent for several long seconds.

Though President Peng appeared to be a figure of high status, in the face of Rong Qi’s words, no one dared to step in and smooth things over.

Finally, Peng broke the silence himself, letting out an awkward chuckle. “President Rong, you must be joking.”

Drinking an entire bottle of liquor?

Even for a younger man in his prime, it would be a daunting challenge, let alone someone like Peng, who was nearing his fifties.

The others at the table observed Rong Qi’s expression carefully. Some chuckled along, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes, President Rong, you do have a way with humor.”

However, the people at the table weren’t fools. Soon, someone started piecing things together.

Wait a second… Doesn’t this sound an awful lot like what Peng had said earlier to President Cheng from FanHai?

At the time, they’d all been amused bystanders.

Now, some began sneaking glances at Rong Qi and Cheng Li.

Rong Qi’s sudden arrival at this dinner had seemed like he was simply there for Jiang Zhe, but now it felt more like he was intentionally targeting Peng.

The peculiar thing was that, although Rong Qi and Cheng Li were seated near each other, there was still a noticeable gap between them.

The two hadn’t exchanged a single word since Rong Qi arrived, making it hard to discern any connection between them.

Just as the self-proclaimed clever ones were struggling to figure it out, Rong Qi tapped the glass table with the rim of his wine glass.

The crisp sound echoed in everyone’s ears.

He swept his gaze across the room, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Indeed, just a joke.”

The stifling atmosphere that had enveloped the room relaxed significantly.

Everyone’s faces lit up with relief, eager to return to the jovial atmosphere from earlier.

“But forcing others to drink against their will is a tasteless and dull act,” Rong Qi continued in an unhurried tone. Despite his calm demeanor, there was an undeniable pressure in his voice. “I believe everyone here is educated and respectable, above such behavior.”

Cheng Li pressed her lips tightly together to stifle her laugh.

It was the first time she realized how masterfully Rong Qi could call someone out indirectly.

He managed to chastise others so thoroughly without uttering a single rude word.

The group offered awkward chuckles, unsure how to respond.

They thought this would be the end of it—but to their dismay, it was merely the beginning.

Rong Qi leaned back, propping his elbow on the armrest of his chair. Resting his chin lightly on his fingers, he struck a pose reminiscent of his usual demeanor during company meetings. His expression carried a faint smirk as he casually remarked, “After all, we’re in an age promoting a civilized drinking culture. As leaders of major companies, we should lead by example. The mistakes of others serve as constant reminders for us all. Take Google, for instance—back in 2017, they terminated 48 employees, including several senior executives.”

Jiang Zhe nearly buried his face in his hands.

He had never expected Rong Qi to turn this dinner into a corporate ethics seminar.

However, Rong Qi soon let out a soft laugh. “Of course, I’m not referring to anyone here. It’s just something that came to mind given the events of tonight.”

“Right, right. Civilized drinking culture—it’s essential.”

“Exactly. My wife always reminds me how bad drinking is for my health.”

“Same here. I’ve been struggling with high cholesterol for years, and my doctor constantly warns me about it during checkups.”

“My apologies for going on a bit too much tonight.” Rong Qi raised his teacup. “Allow me to toast everyone with tea.”

The tension finally dissolved, and everyone followed suit, lifting their glasses and taking a sip.

It was then that Cheng Li realized Rong Qi’s brilliance.

He wasn’t just about exerting dominance—he left room for others to breathe.

When he wanted to, he could easily shift into a more amicable role, seamlessly adapting to his surroundings.

Now, as Rong Qi spoke, all attention was drawn to him. His insights were sharp and influential, eliciting agreement from everyone at the table.

It wasn’t just flattery; his perspective on the market carried weight.

After all, dinners like this weren’t just for camaraderie—they were also about exchanging valuable information.

Soon, almost everyone had engaged in a conversation with Rong Qi.

Except for Peng.

Under Rong Qi’s subtle neglect, Peng seemed almost forgotten for the rest of the evening.

Finally, Rong Qi turned to Cheng Li and smiled faintly. “I haven’t had the chance to ask—what’s your name?”

“Cheng Li. I’m with FanHai Intelligent Systems. We specialize in autonomous driving.”

Cheng Li responded crisply, catching on to his cue.

Rong Qi raised his brows in mild surprise. “You’re from FanHai? I’ve heard about your company. Your automated parking system is highly competitive, particularly the sensor technology—it’s among the best in the country.”

Cheng Li widened her eyes slightly, astonished that he would seriously endorse FanHai so publicly.

Unable to resist, she murmured softly, “You flatter us. It’s an honor for FanHai to receive such praise from you.”

“It’s nothing,” Rong Qi replied, his tone light. “In our line of work, marketing can be flashy, but good technology speaks for itself. Your company may be facing some challenges, but they’re nothing insurmountable.”

Hearing this, someone at the table couldn’t help but ask, “President Rong, do you have a high opinion of FanHai?”

Rong Qi looked up and smiled. “I think most of you are aware of Qiyu’s car manufacturing plans. Since we’ve entered this industry, we naturally pay attention to companies within the sector. FanHai may not have been around for long, but they have strong technical foundations and a team of top-tier researchers from prestigious universities.”

“President Rong, does that mean you’re considering FanHai?” someone asked boldly.

Rong Qi raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer directly.

Everyone understood—it wasn’t the kind of information he’d casually reveal over dinner.

Suddenly, everyone realized that Rong Qi seemed to have taken an interest in FanHai.

In an instant, their perception of FanHai shifted subtly.

Investing in a tech company like this was always akin to gambling—betting on whether one could successfully identify an emerging unicorn.

All eyes instinctively turned to Rong Qi and Jiang Zhe.

Jiang Zhe, not even thirty years old, held remarkable influence in the venture capital world. His reputation stemmed from his early success, capturing the unicorn QiYu Technology immediately after graduating.

He was the angel investor for QiYu Technology.

Reportedly, his initial investment in QiYu alone had already appreciated over 100 times.

With QiYu still growing rapidly, achieving a thousand-fold return on his investment seemed only a matter of time.

Listening to Rong Qi’s remarks, Jiang Zhe also struggled to maintain composure.

He barely managed to keep a look of alarm from creeping onto his face.

It was the first time he truly understood how terrifyingly convincing someone’s acting could be.

If he hadn’t known that Rong Qi was there because of Cheng Li, he might have believed, like everyone else at the table, that Rong Qi’s words were merely a reflection of his admiration for FanHai Intelligent.

Looking at the eager expressions of the investors around the table, who seemed genuinely swayed by Rong Qi’s words and were now showing interest in FanHai Intelligent, Jiang Zhe couldn’t help but think: Could these two be some kind of duo of master swindlers?

Were they planning to ensnare everyone at the table?

As the only one privy to the truth, Jiang Zhe suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

By the end of the dinner, except for President Peng, everyone seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

When the gathering dispersed, the group walked to the entrance of the clubhouse to bid farewell.

This time, no one insisted on offering Cheng Li a ride home.

That made Cheng Li feel much more at ease.

After everyone had left, Liu Mingyi stood to the side and said quietly, “Ms. Cheng, I brought my car. I can call a driver and take you home first?”

“No need, you go ahead,” Cheng Li replied with a smile.

Liu Mingyi glanced at her, then at Rong Qi and Jiang Zhe, who were still standing nearby.

“Alright, I’ll leave then. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”

Without further insistence, Liu Mingyi called a driver and left.

When Cheng Li turned her head, she saw Rong Qi standing there alone.

“Where’s your friend?” Cheng Li asked curiously.

“He has another dinner to attend. Someone’s urging him to hurry over,” Rong Qi replied.

Cheng Li nodded. “When will your driver be here?”

But Rong Qi didn’t answer her question. After a moment’s silence, he suddenly said, “Why didn’t you ask why I didn’t introduce you as my wife earlier?”

“You must have your reasons,” Cheng Li said calmly.

Rong Qi looked straight at her and asked, “You’re not upset?”

Cheng Li shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

Though deep down, she did feel a trace of disappointment.

“President Peng doesn’t have a good reputation in the industry—he’s as petty as they come,” Rong Qi said indifferently. Cheng Li chuckled at his words, and he continued, “If I slighted him, he wouldn’t dare hold it against me. But if he found out I did it because of you, he might well bear a grudge against you.”

It’s better to offend ten gentlemen than to offend one petty person.

Cheng Li nodded understandingly. “I see.”

He had done it for her.

“But more importantly,” Rong Qi turned his head, his jet-black eyes reflecting the light above, while a gust of wind ruffled his neatly cropped hair. “Cheng Li, I don’t want you to lose your name because of me.”

This time, Cheng Li was genuinely stunned, frozen in place.

“If we disclose our relationship in the workplace, Cheng Li, you will no longer be just Cheng Li. More people will know you as Mrs. Rong Qi.”

Mrs. Rong Qi.

Not Cheng Li.

Cheng Li suddenly thought of Mrs. Gao. Even though Gao Zhihe was merely the founder of a small company, whenever people mentioned their scandal, it was always about Gao Zhihe and Mrs. Gao.

The scoundrel still had his name.

But Mrs. Gao was only ever referred to as such—no one cared what her real name was.

“You should be Cheng Li, the Chief Architect of FanHai.”

Rong Qi’s voice was earnest and sincere.

For the first time, Cheng Li felt a lump in her throat. He had thought of things she hadn’t even considered.

Cheng Li said nothing.

But her silence didn’t mean she was calm inside. That entire evening had felt like an emotional rollercoaster.

In truth, Cheng Li had always been slow to warm up to emotions. Her single romantic experience in 28 years attested to that.

Back in school, although her mother often reminded her about relationships, she never took much interest in adolescent love.

In university, she stayed busy—with studies and adapting to her new life—but never with romance.

Because of her appearance, Cheng Li remained well-known on campus despite her low profile. At student council events, her presence always drew the attention of male students who orchestrated “accidental” encounters.

Her suitors were as numerous as the fish crossing a river, never ceasing.

But Cheng Li felt nothing for any of them. None sparked her interest.

Even Meng Yuange found it strange.

If she had come from a troubled family or had been hurt by her parents’ failed marriage, it might make sense. But her parents’ relationship was excellent, and her loving upbringing shielded her from any pain.

In the end, Meng Yuange was baffled, concluding that Cheng Li might simply be emotionally indifferent.

Graduate school and work passed by uneventfully for Cheng Li.

Xu Jiheng’s appearance was probably just a catalyst.

At that time, Cheng Li had already stepped into society and joined a startup company. It was the peak of her career stress. Xu Jiheng’s persistent pursuit finally prompted her to tentatively open up her emotionally closed-off world.

But it was only tentative, just a little bit.

As Xu Jiheng once complained, she was different from other girls; she never flaunted their relationship on social media.

Later, Cheng Li compromised and occasionally posted photos related to him and their life together.

Yet, this compromise never changed the essence of their relationship—she did not like Xu Jiheng enough.

Just as he said to her that night, even if he hadn’t cheated, there would come a day when Cheng Li would wake up from this begrudgingly maintained relationship and leave without hesitation.

In hindsight, those words were not entirely an attempt to shift the blame.

At the very least, Cheng Li had never felt the emotions she was experiencing tonight when she was with Xu Jiheng.

When Rong Qi appeared at the door of the private room, her heart raced to an almost unbearable extreme, a feeling so unfamiliar that it left her in awe. She had never realized that a person’s heart could pound so wildly just because of someone else.

In that instant, her ears were filled with the deafening sound of her heartbeat, a feeling so intense and unprecedented that it surged violently in her chest.

This must be what they call liking someone.

In truth, this emotion did not suddenly appear tonight.

Like a volcanic eruption, it had been quietly building over time—a faint, shallow expectation, gradually compressed and accumulated, finally erupting in one decisive moment.

In the past, Cheng Li had always been passive in relationships—pursued, liked, but never once, not even once, had she wanted to take the initiative.

Yet, at that moment, a thought rose in her mind, strong and fervent.

This time, she wanted to like someone.

To take the initiative to like someone.

Cheng Li turned her gaze to Rong Qi beside her. He stood in the hallway under the bright lights, the glow outlining him with a gentle halo.

A cold winter breeze swept past her face.

The thought in her mind was not extinguished.

Instead, it was as if a bucket of boiling oil had been poured onto it, spreading like wildfire, burning away every other thought, leaving only this one—rooted deeply like wild grass.

She wanted to be in a relationship with Rong Qi.

She wanted to do all the things couples did: hold hands while strolling at sunset, shop for groceries together, ride bicycles along the coastline. Every beautiful scene she could imagine, she wanted to experience them with him.

“Rong Qi,” Cheng Li called out to him softly.

Rong Qi, who had been standing a few steps away, slowly walked over. As he approached, he unexpectedly leaned his body lightly against her shoulder.

Cheng Li froze.

She… She hadn’t even said what she wanted to say.

Why was he leaning on her already?

“Don’t move,” Rong Qi said, his chin lightly resting on her head. His voice was low and slightly hoarse.

“What’s wrong?” Cheng Li asked.

“My stomach hurts a little,” he replied quietly, a hint of helplessness in his tone. “Maybe from drinking.”

Cheng Li thought for a moment and softly reminded him, “But you didn’t drink a drop tonight.”

“…”

Ever since Rong Qi had appeared, no one at the table had drunk any alcohol. Everyone had replaced it with tea.

The “Supervisor Rong” initiative for a civilized drinking culture had been thoroughly implemented.

“Last night,” Rong Qi explained lazily, showing no embarrassment at being caught in a lie.

Cheng Li nodded and then asked with concern, “Should I buy some medicine for you on the way home?”

“No need,” Rong Qi chuckled faintly. “Just let me lean here for a bit, and I’ll be fine.”

Lean he did.

With his tall frame of over 1.85 meters, even though he was lean and well-proportioned from regular workouts, he was no lightweight.

Cheng Li struggled to hold him up.

“Am I heavy?” His languid voice came from above her head.

Cheng Li immediately denied it. “No, not heavy.”

But then she paused.

After a moment of silence, she admitted softly, “Actually, you are a little heavy.”

“Then I’ll move,” Rong Qi said, starting to shift his weight away.

“Don’t,” Cheng Li stopped him.

Inside her, it felt like molten lava flowing, with bubbles of thought about him constantly bursting and filling her heart. At this moment, her thought was: “Why don’t I just hold you for a bit? That way, it’ll be less tiring for me.”

They stood at the entrance, waiting for the driver.

Cheng Li didn’t know where the driver was or why it was taking so long.

But maybe this was her chance to steal a small moment—a brief hug.

Rong Qi, who had been resting against her with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them. His brows twitched slightly as he asked, “You want to hug me?”

“It’ll be easier this way,” Cheng Li explained clumsily, adding quietly, “Is that okay?”

“It’s okay…”

Before he could finish, she wrapped her arms gently around his waist.

The cold winter wind swept through the hallway outside the clubhouse.

But the two of them held each other tightly, leaving no room even for the wind to pass through.

Cheng Li realized for the first time just how warm his body could be—a warmth that traveled through her and settled in her heart, blazing hot and intense.

“It’s not—” Jiang Zhe had finally managed to slip away from the dinner gathering when he saw, not just two people standing at the entrance, but hugging.

Weren’t they pretending not to know each other at the dinner?

How did it escalate to hugging at the door?

Cheng Li also heard footsteps and turned her head, only to see Jiang Zhe’s dumbfounded face.

It was then that she realized they were at the entrance of the clubhouse.

Thankfully, this was a private venue, usually quiet, and there weren’t many people around at this hour.

Rong Qi, noticing her slight push, opened his eyes and saw Jiang Zhe, who had returned.

“Someone’s here,” Cheng Li whispered, trying to get him to stand properly and be mindful of appearances.

Rong Qi glanced lazily at Jiang Zhe, drawling, “It’s fine. He doesn’t count as someone.”

Jiang Zhe: “…”

Right, he doesn’t count as someone.

He’s just a single guy who rushed back only to feast on other people’s public displays of affection.

“What are you doing back here again?” Rong Qi asked coolly, though he did stand upright. His hands slid into the pockets of his coat as he asked with indifference.

Jiang Zhe’s gaze darted back and forth between the two, scrutinizing them for a while before finally blurting out, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Jiang Zhe,” Rong Qi said, lifting his chin slightly toward him, his tone both smug and casual. “He was in the gifted youth program with me. But he’s not that important.”

This was the first time Cheng Li had met one of Rong Qi’s friends.

It was also then that she remembered why Jiang Zhe had seemed familiar earlier when Rong Qi had appeared.

He was the same man who had been sitting next to Rong Qi at the bar the first time they reunited.

Jiang Zhe couldn’t hold back anymore and scoffed, addressing Cheng Li, “Just to clarify, I actually graduated from the gifted youth program. With a diploma and all. As for him, at most, he dropped out.”

Rong Qi, utterly unbothered, calmly added, “It was expulsion.”

Cheng Li noticed how relaxed and at ease Rong Qi appeared when he was with Jiang Zhe. This must be his best friend.

After their exchange, Rong Qi turned to look at Cheng Li.

Suddenly, he raised his hand and ruffled her hair playfully.

Then, he looked back at Jiang Zhe and said in a soft voice, “This is my wife, Cheng Li.”