Chapter 27: Rank Three Official 

It took nearly half an hour to get from Xicheng District back to her rented apartment.

On the way home, her cousin called again, still not done gossiping.

Gu Yao sighed helplessly. “Alright, that’s enough. A man his age is obviously married.”

…
Married?
What a pity.

After a pause, Wen Jing asked, “Did you see his wife today at Yufeng Pavilion?”

“No,” Gu Yao replied.
“Our boss is originally from Beijing, so I assume his wife mostly lives there too.”
She pulled out her Bluetooth earphones, connected them, slipped her phone into her bag, and planned to get off a stop early to swing by the supermarket.

“By the way, what rank is your boss anyway?” Wen Jing asked, clearly intrigued. “To be transferred from the capital like that, he must have some serious backing.”

Secretary Zhou’s background was a mystery.

But according to what Sister Lan had hinted at earlier, this high-ranking official indeed had an unusual background.

As for his actual level—

Gu Yao thought for a moment, then offered a rough equivalent: “Probably… about the same as a senior third-rank official in ancient times.”

Senior third-rank…?

Wen Jing’s mind turned it over, but she couldn’t quite match it with anything in today’s world.

Forget it—she was veering off-topic. Time to get to the point.

“I saw Second Young Master drinking alone at the club last night,” Wen Jing said. “So… what’s going on between you two?”

Wen Jing wasn’t worried about anything else—just that her cousin might be indecisive and get herself caught in a messy situation.

When it came to relationships, girls were often at a disadvantage.
And since Gu Yao had no other family in Qionghai, Wen Jing felt she had to look out for her.

But Gu Yao’s reaction was surprisingly calm.

“I broke up with him,” she said. “He didn’t agree.”

So?

There was no follow-up.
Apparently, she had simply cut contact on her end—deleted, blocked, the whole package.

It looked cold and ruthless, but Wen Jing knew her cousin too well to be fooled.

Even if Gu Yao wanted to end things, she wouldn’t usually do it so emotionlessly.

Thinking of this, Wen Jing frowned.
“What exactly happened that night at the Hongmen Banquet?”

She didn’t know the specifics, but it was clear from her cousin’s demeanor that something had gone very wrong between her and the Cheng family.

Over the phone, Gu Yao gave a cold laugh.
“Right before I left, Mrs. Cheng pulled out a prenuptial agreement. I gave it right back to her. And then Cheng Mu tried to smooth things over—said I was overreacting.”

Looking back on it now, Gu Yao still found it ironic.

That agreement, on the surface, was full of clauses that seemed favorable to the Gu family, all phrased as though it was ‘for her own good.’

But really, it was offensive.

Gu Yao gave a faint, dismissive smile. “If I were some naive, love-struck airhead, I probably would’ve cried from being ‘touched.’”

That was Mrs. Cheng’s specialty.

She didn’t approve of their relationship but never said so directly.
Instead, she took a detour—pretending to be kind and generous, using her own son as a tool.

As for Cheng Mu—he lacked a brain.

Gu Yao didn’t bother to point that out. There was no need.

They were still just dating. If even that stage was filled with mind games and hidden motives, how exhausting would the rest of life be?

Besides, Gu Yao always carried a measure in her heart.

What kind of person was worth marrying and staying with?
Was love the most important thing? Or shared values?
Or maybe it was family compatibility, social standing, and all those other variables—only time could tell.

As for Cheng Mu…

He gave her a passionate, dramatic beginning.

She’d repay him with a calm, peaceful end.

By the end of July, Yang Lan was about to begin maternity leave.
All work had to be handed over before Friday, and almost the entire core workload fell onto Gu Yao’s shoulders.

That day after work, her colleagues clocked out one by one.

Soon, only Gu Yao remained, sorting through bidding documents at her desk.

Around six o’clock, Yang Lan walked into the office carrying two takeout bags.
Seeing the surprise on the younger woman’s face, she chuckled,
“I got us some crayfish. Thought I’d keep you company while you work late tonight.”

Gu Yao naturally declined the offer, worried that staying too late would be too exhausting for her and might take a toll on her health.

But Yang Lan whispered conspiratorially, “My husband is super strict. He won’t let me eat anything with strong flavors during pregnancy—everything is off-limits. Just let me indulge a little, okay?”

Gu Yao couldn’t help but laugh.
So even Sister Lan had someone she was afraid of.

When they opened the food containers, the rich, spicy aroma filled the room. The two of them put on gloves and chatted while devouring the food.

With a system update approaching, data verification and backups had become top priorities. Not a single mistake could be afforded. The crayfish had arrived just in time—a perfect mental refresher.

Watching the girl peel shells without taking her eyes off the screen, Yang Lan asked casually, “I heard the resort project slated for early August is already in the proposal review stage. Have you gotten any updates?”

Gu Yao shook her head.
“For major projects like this, Director Meng usually handles them personally. It’s rare for them to be pushed down to junior-level accounts.”

Which made sense—three billion was no small sum.

On that note, Yang Lan’s expression turned serious. “Even if it does get assigned to you, you’ll probably have to recuse yourself.”

Why?

The reason was obvious.

The second young master of Hengyuan Group was Gu Yao’s boyfriend, and everyone in their department knew it. Just in case—whether they were still together or not—Gu Yao should avoid any involvement.

She understood that this was Sister Lan’s kind reminder.

After they finished eating and sat for a moment, Gu Yao quickly wrapped up her work and ordered a ride via app.

When she returned from the restroom, she saw the girl tidying up, saying the driver had already arrived outside the office building.

Yang Lan sighed. “It’s just a takeout meal—no need to be so polite.”

In response, Comrade Xiao Gu walked up and gave her a hug.

“When the baby’s born, be sure to let us know in the group chat. We’ll be waiting for you to come back,” Gu Yao said. She wasn’t usually sentimental, but since joining the office, Sister Lan had looked after her often—they were closer than she was with others.

She really was reluctant to see her go.

Yang Lan rubbed the girl’s head and sighed gently, “You’ve worked hard these past few months. If you have any issues, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m on call 24/7—except on delivery day.”

But Gu Yao didn’t quite agree. She leaned in and whispered,
“Come on, you have to set a good example. Enjoy your maternity leave properly, or the women who come after you won’t dare take time off.”

Working through maternity leave? That was just setting a bad precedent.

Yang Lan laughed and shook her head at Gu Yao’s serious tone.

Alright.

They said goodbye there.

Before she got into the car, Yang Lan gave her one final reminder:
“On the day of the bidding meeting, make sure Director Meng attends. If you’re unsure about anything, go upstairs and consult him. Major decisions require leadership signatures before being implemented. Better to play dumb than to show off.”

Gu Yao was a smart girl—she understood instantly.

Sister Lan was looking out for her.

As for the bidding meeting—Director Meng had no choice but to attend.

Secretary Zhou had already given instructions the week before, requiring him to be present the entire time and to document everything in detail.

Which saved Comrade Xiao Gu an extra trip.

After checking the attendance sheet and confirming that all bidding companies and evaluators were present, Gu Yao nodded at her colleague from administration, signaling that it was time to begin.

A total of twelve companies were participating, most of them mid-to-large tech firms with solid capabilities. Their project cases and system demos were polished and smooth, each more refined than the last.

Except for one small team sitting in a corner, whose leader was still hunched over a laptop, furiously typing away right up to their turn.

It looked like they hadn’t come fully prepared.

One of the judges suggested, “Time is tight—let’s just move on to the next one.”

Just then, a noise came from the back of the room.

The team leader stood up with his laptop in hand and, under everyone’s gaze, strode confidently toward the presentation platform.

YaoKe Technology.

Gu Yao remembered this company vividly.