Chapter 24: Love That Cannot Be

Zhou Zhengliang stepped into the office at a calm, unhurried pace. When the young woman saw him, a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes.

She subtly shifted her gaze, peeking behind him.

Empty. No one else followed.

Had she misheard just now?

Zhou Zhengliang ignored the girl’s fleeting expressions. Seeing her standing there in silence, he casually asked, “When did you arrive?”

Gu Yao snapped back to her senses.

A bit embarrassed, she pointed toward the corridor and replied, “About fifteen minutes ago. I ran into Secretary Xu outside the meeting room. He said you were busy and asked me to wait.”

As she spoke, she noticed the big boss’s eyes had landed on the steaming cup of Huangshan Maofeng tea.

Just as she was about to speak, Zhou Zhengliang was already making his way toward the tea table.

The reception area was fairly spacious.

But as he drew closer, the crisp, clean scent he carried—like a winter forest just after snow—filled the space around her.

It reminded Gu Yao of the scent of his administrative jacket back in the Coaster van.

Invisible and intangible, yet steady and composed.

And at the same time, disarmingly intense.

Involuntarily, her gaze was drawn to his hand, elegant and defined.

Zhou Zhengliang calmly lifted the tea, took a small sip, paused briefly, then slowly set the cup down again.

The girl in front of him stared without blinking, as though waiting for a compliment.

He lowered his eyes without any obvious expression, meeting her clear gaze at a half-step’s distance.

The room went still.

Realizing the atmosphere felt… off, Gu Yao stiffened for a moment, then blushed and quickly turned her head away. She picked up the kettle again, pretending to be busy.

A low chuckle escaped the man’s throat.

His emotions were unreadable, but it wasn’t hard to sense that he was in a good mood.

Gu Yao’s face turned even redder.

She sulked inwardly, convinced he was laughing at how clumsy she was—what a waste of good tea.

Looks like Secretary Xu’s suggestion wasn’t going to work.

As she brooded, she heard Zhou Zhengliang’s warm voice offer a verdict:
“Good method, proper water temperature. Doesn’t look like you’re new to this, Xiao Gu.”

So… she was too skilled at pleasing the boss?

Completely misunderstood.

Gu Yao’s brows knitted together slightly. She opened her mouth to explain, then thought better of it.

Dragging Secretary Xu into this just to protect herself—how could that be fair?

In the end, she swallowed her protest and said nothing.

Zhou Zhengliang read her hesitation with a subtle lift of his lips. It was a harmless little moment—not worth overanalyzing.

The tighter you pull, the further they drift.

Given their positions, she always maintained a layer of respectful distance from him.

They didn’t interact much on ordinary days. A slow, steady approach was her only option.

A short silence followed.

Seeing how crestfallen the girl looked, Zhou Zhengliang tilted his chin toward her and got to the point:
“It’s getting late. Let’s begin.”

The quality of the tea didn’t matter. Work was her strong suit.

Zhou Zhengliang, as a man of his position, wasn’t one to blur public and private matters for amusement.

As soon as he spoke, Gu Yao let out a breath and instantly bounced back.

She pulled out the prepared documents from her folder, handed them over politely, and gestured for Secretary Zhou to review them.

When he reached page eight, she began her explanation—concise and methodical.

As she spoke, Zhou Zhengliang focused on evaluating the contents of the report in hand.

It was 25 pages long, analyzing all 12 bidding companies, outlining the proposed system structure and core modules, and suggesting editable components to be added on top of the current framework. It emphasized how to optimize and reform the process to minimize the risk of rule violations.

She even accounted for many potential variables—like a policy shift leading to a trust crisis among enterprises. The overall logic was sound, the wording precise and thorough. Clearly, she had put great effort into it.

The final detail: the bidding would be scheduled for the end of July.

When she reached that part, Gu Yao added a follow-up question—would Secretary Zhou be available that day, and did he intend to personally oversee the proceedings?

Zhou Zhengliang closed the file and placed it on the table, expression unchanged as he volleyed the question right back:
“What do you think, Xiao Gu? Should I attend?”

Uh…

She was just a small fry.

Her opinion didn’t matter, did it?

After a moment’s thought, Gu Yao responded earnestly, “If I may be honest, I hope Secretary Zhou can attend. With you there, it would make my work go more smoothly.”

She had spoken plainly, without evasion or embellishment.

Zhou Zhengliang understood her concerns.

But even if that bidding meeting were to attract all manner of “goblins and demons,” the girl might still manage just fine without him there.

Her potential extended far beyond what she showed.

Yet by the end of their conversation, she still hadn’t gotten a clear answer from the top leader.

Whether he would attend remained uncertain.

At some point, Zhou Zhengliang stepped out to take a phone call, leaving her alone in the office for a few quiet minutes.

Just then, a message popped up on her phone.

Her boyfriend—whom she’d been in a cold war with for some time—suddenly reached out.

Cheng Mu:
Yao Yao, let’s meet this weekend.

The Second Young Master’s message was casual, as though nothing had happened between them.

Gu Yao replied:
And in what capacity would we be meeting—exes, or your backup plan?

That word—“backup”—stabbed Cheng Mu right in the eyes.

He knew he had said some reckless things the last time they fought. He hadn’t been able to control his temper.

[Sorry, but it wasn’t my fault.]

The message was typed out.

Then unsent.

Unfortunately, Gu Yao had already seen it.

Expression blank, she tugged up one corner of her lips.

Before he could edit a new reply, she quickly blocked his number and shut off her screen.

Out of sight, out of mind.

She was so focused, she didn’t even realize Zhou Zhengliang had already come back into the office.

He caught the shift in her expression.

Taking the seat across from her, he casually asked, “Something bothering you in your personal life?”

Relationship trouble.

But what could her boss possibly offer—advice?

Her skin was too thin. She didn’t dare open up so easily.

The words reached her lips, then shrank back. She ended up giving a vague answer:
“No matter how bad things get, if I keep pushing through, it’ll pass.”

If she truly believed that, she wouldn’t be wearing her heartbreak on her face.

The sound of pouring tea filled the air.

She looked up, startled.

And saw the man gently pouring a fresh cup, then sliding it toward her with practiced ease.

Her breath hitched.

Realizing what was happening, Gu Yao quickly nodded her thanks.

She lifted the cup and mimicked his earlier movements, taking a small sip.

She didn’t know much about tea, but this simple, gentlemanly gesture—so refined—somehow made her let down her guard. The distance between them subtly shrank.

Zhou Zhengliang didn’t look at her. His gaze fell on her phone as he spoke, voice calm and even:
“Sometimes, what lies ahead is better. Don’t get stuck in the present.”

A suggestion.

To try and move on.

The advice was simple enough.

But not everyone could manage it.

The girl had a stubborn streak. Once something got stuck in her head, she’d chase it down, unwilling to let go or admit defeat.

Whereas he, the so-called villain, was constantly thinking about stealing her away.

And yet, there she was—right in front of him.

That taste of love, yet never having it—it had seeped deep into his bones.

In all his thirty-some years, he never thought he’d fall for a young girl.

Who would believe it if he said it out loud?

The office was unusually still. Aside from the calls Gu Yao kept ignoring and the occasional hum of the air conditioner, there was silence.

A tiny, almost inaudible sniffle caught his attention.

He picked up the remote and turned up the temperature.

Then, in a gentle voice, he said, “From now on, the Friday reports will be done online. Coordinate the time with Xu Mo. If you don’t mind working late, it’ll probably be around 8 p.m.”

Eight p.m.

The prime hour of nightlife for people her age. A bit harsh, maybe.

But Gu Yao had no complaints.

In fact, she even volunteered, “If you’re really busy, anytime before midnight is fine too.”

What greeted her was a soft chuckle.

Zhou Zhengliang pointed at the air conditioner’s vent without saying a word.

Huh? What did that mean?

She didn’t get it.

Until he said,
“Exercise more. Stay up late less.”

“…”

Was he implying her body was too weak to handle a little cold air?

Oh.

Gu Yao sulked internally.
Middle-aged men aren’t in much better shape. We’re about the same.

What she didn’t know—

Was that in the not-so-distant future, she would pay a painful price for that one offhanded comment.