If anyone claimed that Zheng Gongdong no longer loved Zhou Qing, he certainly didn’t believe it. After all, a grown man who had even helped him wash his underwear wasn’t someone who could just turn around and say he didn’t love him anymore.

Still, he couldn’t hold in his anger. His mother’s death, caused by his father’s affair, had always stuck with him. Zhou Qing lost her when he was only twelve or thirteen, and the memory stayed with him. From then on, he believed that if someone wronged him, they had to pay for it. Unlike his mother, who couldn’t handle the betrayal and let it destroy her, Zhou Qing believed in getting revenge—if there was a grudge, it needed to be settled.

He had told Zheng Gongdong the same thing back then—if we’re going to part ways, let’s do it cleanly. Just say the word, and it’s done. If Zhou Qing had begged or tried to hold on, then he wouldn’t be a man. But if anyone dared to embarrass him, for the sake of the love he once had, he wouldn’t just let it slide. He’d make sure they got it back, double.

Now that this person dared to cause trouble, Zhou Qing would make sure to tighten the screws and wait for them to regret it.

As for whether there was love left or not, it didn’t matter anymore. The other person didn’t care, so why should he?

Zhou Qing was a man of his word. After resting for a few days, he felt recharged and went straight to find Zhang Shirui.

Zhang Shirui, already desperate to find more legs just to be with him, almost teared up when he saw Zhou Qing appear. Stumbling over his own feet, he rushed over, his face bruised and swollen like a pig’s, nervously rubbing his hands. “How’ve you been sleeping these past few days? How’s breakfast? Anything uncomfortable? Do you need me to help with a massage?”

His eyes were fixed on Zhou Qing’s crotch, and within a few seconds, he swallowed audibly, his voice loud enough for the bodyguards behind him to glance away, pretending they hadn’t heard a thing.

Zhou Qing couldn’t be bothered to spare him another glance. He sat down on the sofa in the office, and as soon as he did, Zhang Shirui immediately rushed toward the door, then paused, turning back to force a smile through his swollen, bruised face. “Just sit, just sit for a bit. I’ll get you some water, I’ll be right back.”

With that, he rushed off toward the breakroom, and even without listening closely, the sound of his hurried footsteps down the hallway was impossible to ignore.

Zhang Shirui wasn’t particularly skilled in anything, but he had a talent for maintaining good relationships with his subordinates. While he might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, with clever and loyal people around him, he was at least able to keep things afloat.

So, when the boss wasn’t much help, his subordinates stepped up. While the boss was busy making tea, He Shou approached with a big, friendly smile and said, “Master Zhou, look at this—our boss is at your service. Whatever you want, he’ll give, even his life if needed… What do you think?”

What was there to see? Zhou Qing couldn’t help but chuckle, casting a sidelong glance at He Shou, his smile lingering as if unsure whether to stop or keep laughing.

He Shou saw an opportunity and bent even lower, speaking in a submissive tone, “Don’t be fooled by our boss not being the brightest, but he’s a man of integrity and loyalty. As long as he has food, he won’t let those he cares about go hungry… Look, take a look…”

Zhou Qing couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. Was He Shou trying to poach him? Trying to get him to join Zhang Shirui’s company? Damn, this Zhang’s subordinates were definitely sharper than the boss himself…