{Shen Qi, do you have the right to say that? 2}

Finally, Zhao Buhui was about to leave, but for some reason, the chandelier in the meeting room suddenly began to sway as if it might fall at any moment. Perhaps it was due to the construction in the upstairs bathroom, or maybe the lights of Zhao Tian Group had simply aged and had not been updated in a long time.

In any case, the dazzling European-style chandelier, which fit the aesthetic of its era, showed signs of falling.

The man who was about to leave turned back.

Zhao Buhui knew he shouldn’t waste his leisure time on someone irrelevant, but for some reason—perhaps his upbringing or his sense of etiquette—he didn’t want to leave Qian Xu alone to face the risk of the chandelier falling.

He hurriedly turned around and tried to pull the woman out of the way, but she was walking in the opposite direction. His attempt to pull her back only hindered her from avoiding this unexpected disaster.

It was obvious that the woman deeply resented him, her anger seemingly no less than what she felt toward Shen Qi.

Why was he trying to pull her?

Hadn’t he just delivered his warning moments ago? Why was he now being kind and returning, as if to display some sort of gentlemanly gesture by rescuing her?

But what era was this? She wasn’t some delicate woman incapable of basic judgment about her environment. Couldn’t she figure out how to avoid danger on her own?

“Let go.”

However, it was too late to say that. The two had already moved to opposite sides of the room, and if the chandelier fell, it wouldn’t have hit either of them.

But because of his approach and tugging, they ended up directly beneath the grand chandelier. Qian Xu began to feel a bitter frustration, not the kind caused by emotional betrayal, but the kind of helplessness one feels when dealing with a fool.

She couldn’t understand how Pennsylvania had accepted such a person—had Zhao Buhui, like others, donated large sums of money?

She didn’t understand the entry requirements for the wealthy, and now it was too late to escape.

Let the downpour fall—

No, let the chandelier fall. After all, it should hit Zhao Buhui, the “prince charming” who had rushed to the rescue, not her.

But Qian Xu quickly realized something else: the man who might shield her from the falling chandelier could end up collapsing on top of her, possibly leading to some inappropriate “intimate” contact between them.

In the world of romance novels, such accidental closeness, even a stolen kiss, was quite common.

Breaking this clichéd scenario wasn’t difficult.

As the chandelier fell and Zhao Buhui moved closer to her, Qian Xu instinctively extended her hand at the same moment—proving that people can summon extraordinary strength in times of crisis.

She hadn’t expected that her action would push him out of harm’s way, with the chandelier falling squarely on his back, while she remained unharmed.

However, her shove seemed a bit too forceful.

The place she pushed was right on his cheek, creating an impression that Zhao Buhui had come to her rescue, only to be rewarded with a slap.

Qian Xu stood up, fully aware of what had happened, trying to brush off the recent mishap. “Thank you.”

“Miss Qian, you have a rather unique way of showing gratitude.”

Zhao Buhui had initially intended to get up with grace, but the sting on his face prevented him from doing so. He had no choice but to cover his face.

The playful look in his eyes was gone.

“Zhao Buhui, I’m sorry, but we could have both avoided this in the first place. You insisted on playing the hero, and with gravity involved, we might have ended up in an unnecessary physical situation, which I’m sure you’d find uncomfortable as well. I just didn’t know how to handle it in the moment…”

Qian Xu regretted opening her mouth, realizing that whatever she said would only make things worse.

She was in the wrong. Zhao Buhui had tried to help, and she had ended up smacking him in the face.

There was no reasonable explanation for her actions.

Feeling awkward and unable to justify herself, Qian Xu wanted to leave immediately, but the commotion had already alerted the company’s big boss—Zhao Buhui’s father, Zhao Tian.

Without a word, Zhao Tian scolded his son, “Your wings are growing strong, huh? You can mess around outside, and I won’t care, but if you come into my company to give Miss Qian a hard time, I won’t stand by and watch!”

Qian Xu had thought about explaining, but given the father-son dynamic, there was no room for her to speak.

“Old man, sometimes I really admire your comprehension skills. The fact that you’re the boss is truly surprising,” Zhao Buhui said, exasperated.

It seemed he cared more about saving face than getting his father’s understanding. Without offering further explanation, he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and walked out.

As he left, his face was still red and swollen, with faint marks from her fingers.

Qian Xu couldn’t bear to look directly at the scene, but Zhao Buhui’s father sighed beside her, “Miss Qian, Buhui is just immature. Don’t take it to heart.”