Chapter24:

Mu Jinpei spent the entire afternoon with Ji Xingyao at the estate and only returned to their residence in the evening. As Ji Xingyao took off her down jacket, she looked exhausted. She had pushed through the day to keep up with Grandpa and Grandma Mu, but now she was utterly worn out.

“Are you tired?” she asked Mu Jinpei.

“I’m okay.” He took her coat and said, “You’ll stay on the third floor tonight.” His room had already been prepared by the housekeeper with fresh linens.

Ji Xingyao didn’t stand on ceremony and headed upstairs to sleep.

Mu Jinpei went to his study, where Chu Zheng was waiting to report on both business and personal matters.

Chu Zheng had returned to the company earlier that day and brought along a stack of documents for Mu Jinpei to sign, as well as several project proposals. Some were spread across the desk, and others piled in the corner.

The computer was already on, and coffee had been prepared just three minutes earlier.

Mu Jinpei took off his watch and set it aside. He rubbed his forehead before picking up the documents to read.

Chu Zheng noticed that Mu Jinpei didn’t look great—visibly tired. It was rare to see him this unfocused at work. Perhaps he was still jet-lagged.

“President Mu, maybe you should rest first. We can go over these tomorrow morning.”

“I’m fine.” After a short pause, he added, “I took a helicopter ride today.” Just the mention triggered a reflexive physical response—his mind rejected the experience, and he hadn’t been able to shake it off even now.

Chu Zheng was stunned. Helicopters were more of a nightmare to his boss than Ji Changsheng ever was. He actually rode one today—it must have been an attempt to overcome the trauma.

He offered a suggestion:
“Next time before takeoff, maybe you could just sit in the helicopter for a while to get used to it. That might help during the flight.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Mu Jinpei replied as he casually flipped through documents. “I just took Xingyao around for a bit today.”

Chu Zheng: “……”

So his boss willingly went through a traumatic experience—was it driven by deep resentment, or… love?

Some things were above a subordinate’s pay grade to comment on, so he said nothing more.

Two and a half hours later, they finished all the documents—except the project proposals. Mu Jinpei poured another cup of coffee and stepped out to the terrace for a quick mental break.

The light in the third-floor bedroom was still on. He glanced at his watch—it was already 10:30 PM. He sent Ji Xingyao a message:
[Still awake?]

Ji Xingyao replied:
[Almost asleep, I think.]
She was exhausted, yet still couldn’t fall asleep.

Mu Jinpei returned to the study. Chu Zheng was reviewing the project proposal.

“I’m heading upstairs,” he told Chu Zheng. “List any questions you have about the proposal.”

He picked up another copy of the project file and left.

There was a knock on the door, but before Ji Xingyao could answer, the door across the hallway opened—it was Uncle Zhang.

Mu Jinpei explained, “Xingyao can’t sleep.”

Uncle Zhang nodded. Once Ji Xingyao came to the door, he closed his own.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet?” she asked drowsily.

“Working overtime.” Mu Jinpei left the door ajar. “Didn’t you say you were tired? How come you can’t sleep?”

“It’s just how I am. It takes days to adjust to jet lag. I’m fine.” Ji Xingyao lay back in bed and looked at him. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m used to it.” He dimmed the floor lamp. “Get some rest.” He pulled up a chair and sat by the bed to read the proposal.

With him sitting there, Ji Xingyao became even less sleepy. But her mind wasn’t foggy or irritated. She pulled the pillow closer and lay on her side.
“I just made a decision.”

Mu Jinpei looked up slightly to signal her to continue.

“I want to get a pilot’s license. Once I learn to fly, I’ll take you out in a helicopter.”

Mu Jinpei raised his eyes to remind her,
“Didn’t you forget the clause in your contract with M.K.?”

“Which clause?”

“No less than six completed works per year. Where will you find the time to train for a license?”
He wasn’t against her getting a license—he just didn’t want to ride in a helicopter. So he had to come up with an excuse to make her give up the idea for now.

Ji Xingyao smiled brightly.
“Don’t worry, President Mu. I won’t breach the contract and make you lose face. Good news—I’ve already sketched out three pieces these past few days. Once I get back, I’ll start painting. I’ll finish them in two months. I also have Xingyao 3 and Xingyao 4 to fill the quota. That’s five.”

She rested her head on her hand and grinned with meaning.
“Remember I said I’d give you a painting? That Holding Hands one? I changed my mind. I’ll use that to turn in as homework. That makes six. Which means I’ll have ten months left this year to do whatever I want—including flight school.”

Mu Jinpei:
“…How did you suddenly come up with ideas for three new pieces?”

“Being with you gives me endless inspiration,” she said seriously. “And I really mean that. Thank you.”

Mu Jinpei looked into her eyes. She wasn’t just saying that to flatter him—she meant every word.

She was a strange and wonderful presence in his life. Ever since they got together, he hadn’t had a single headache. Just before Christmas, he had such bad migraines he had to get a CT scan. Now, they were completely gone.

Ji Xingyao was more determined than ever to get her pilot’s license.
“You’re afraid of helicopters, right? I used to have social anxiety—I’d avoid people as much as possible. I was satisfied living in my own world. I thought no one could understand my joy, and I didn’t need them to. But after going out with you a few times, and then coming here, I realized… there’s a joy in being part of the world. I was just rejecting it.”

“Helicopter height is something I really like. Planes don’t do it for me,” she said. “Uncle Zhang knows how to fly too. When I lost inspiration for painting, he used to take me out on little flights. But back then I didn’t want to learn myself—it felt like a hassle. Getting a license meant dealing with instructors, and I didn’t want to interact with anyone.”

Now she’d changed her mind. She imagined aloud:
“When I get my license, I’ll take you flying over the Mississippi River, then to the Gulf of Mexico. We’ll see some snow-capped mountains, and when we return to China, I’ll fly us over the great rivers and mountains.”

Mu Jinpei was silent, eyes fixed on her face.

Ji Xingyao didn’t expect to convince him all at once. Given her personality, she didn’t need anyone’s permission to pursue her goals. But since her reason for learning to fly was to take him with her, she would respect his feelings and try to win his support.

If he didn’t support her, she would understand. Fear was both psychological and physiological. Just like how her parents had tried countless ways to get her out of the house—but none of it worked.

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t do it. Really.”

Mu Jinpei didn’t believe for a second she’d be that obedient. She wasn’t the type to lack conviction. She and Pei Yu were exactly the same—always retreating to advance, always tossing the hot potato to someone else and acting righteous about it:
I was saving it for you because I didn’t want to eat it myself.

Ji Xingyao knew when to stop. She lay down.
“Go back to work. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Even in bed, she still couldn’t fall asleep. She reached out a hand.

Mu Jinpei understood. He shifted the project file to his left hand and gave her his right. Ji Xingyao grasped it, and within half an hour, she had fallen asleep.

Mu Jinpei had only read a third of the project file. He gently pulled his hand away, tucked hers under the blanket, turned off the light, and left the room.

At the end of the hallway, Uncle Zhang stood by the window, drinking coffee.

It was possible he had been there since Mu Jinpei entered Ji Xingyao’s room.

Their eyes met. Uncle Zhang nodded at him, and Mu Jinpei nodded back. Maybe it was his imagination, but Uncle Zhang seemed different—quieter, more unreadable, like his thoughts were now too deep to grasp.

By the time all the company matters were finally handled, it was nearly dawn.

Chu Zheng moved to refill Mu Jinpei’s coffee, but he waved him off.

“No more.”

Chu Zheng reported on the progress of several domestic projects. There was still no movement from the Ji Group. Ji Changsheng was likely waiting to meet with Xie Junyi over the Lunar New Year before making a decision.

Mu Jinpei pondered for a moment but said little. He then asked, “What’s going on with my aunt?”

Chu Zheng replied, “She hasn’t contacted me yet.”

Mu Jinpei nodded. “Go get some rest.”

Chu Zheng gathered up all the documents and left, closing the study door behind him.

Mu Jinpei picked up a cigarette and walked to the terrace. It was late at night, everything quiet and still. The yard lights were still on, and the helicopter on the helipad stood out harshly against the darkness.

And yet Ji Xingyao wanted to get a pilot’s license.

Women are trouble—nothing could be more true.

…

Two days later, Mu Wenya finally reached out to Mu Jinpei again. Her reason for meeting him was perfectly respectable—she’d bought a gift for Ji Xingyao and just happened to be passing by the M.K. building, so she thought she’d drop it off.

Mu Jinpei naturally played along. “You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble, Aunt.”

After the call ended, Chu Zheng asked, “Madam Xie is coming over?”

“Yes, in about twenty minutes.” Mu Jinpei fastened his watch.

Chu Zheng instinctively glanced toward the lounge—Ji Xingyao was inside napping. These days, whenever the boss came to the office, he always brought her along.

He asked, “Shall we go to the meeting room?”

Mu Jinpei nodded. He took his laptop and water cup and went next door to the conference room.

Soon, Mu Wenya arrived on the same floor as Mu Jinpei’s office. She wordlessly handed her phone and handbag to Chu Zheng.

“Sorry to trouble you, Assistant Chu.”

Chu Zheng replied politely but firmly, “You’re too kind—it’s no trouble at all.”

Mu Wenya withdrew her gaze coolly and carried the gift into the meeting room. Someone opened the door for her. As she stepped in, no alarm went off—she passed security without issue.

She had come prepared. Mu Jinpei had invited her to his office for a reason—so she wouldn’t dare record anything. She was smart enough not to bring anything incriminating.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Mu Wenya presented the gift and sat across from Mu Jinpei. Even though they both knew this was just a performance, neither of them made a move to drop the façade.

She spoke in a cordial tone, “Always so busy with work—doesn’t your girlfriend mind?”

Mu Jinpei replied, “Xingyao’s a workaholic like me. She was up all night working on her art last night. She’s napping in my office now.”

Mu Wenya’s hand froze for a split second on the coffee cup. She looked stunned—Mu Jinpei had always kept work and personal life strictly separate, yet now he was bringing his girlfriend into the office during work hours.

She took a few sips of coffee and casually asked, “Are you planning to settle down and get married?”

Mu Jinpei closed his laptop and replied, completely off-topic, “There are still a lot of unresolved issues.”

Mu Wenya looked at him—this was likely the real reason he had asked her to come. She offered a polite pretense: “If there’s anything I can help with, just let me know.”

“Actually, there is,” Mu Jinpei said.

Mu Wenya gave a perfunctory smile. “Just say what you need, no need to stand on ceremony with your aunt.”

“Then I won’t be polite,” Mu Jinpei said directly. “Chairman Ji somehow heard that I’m not biologically part of the Mu family.”
He stopped there—Mu Wenya didn’t know about the past grievances with the Ji family, or even the situation with his birth parents. Saying too much would be a mistake.

Mu Wenya’s expression slowly went blank, no longer even pretending.
“Mu Jinpei, what’s that supposed to mean? Are you accusing me of spreading that?”

She would own up to things she had done, but she wouldn’t let anyone dump blame on her without proof.

Mu Jinpei remained calm and unhurried.
“Aunt, you’ve misunderstood. I’m actually asking for your help. Aren’t you and Uncle heading to Beijing for the New Year?” He stopped there.

Mu Wenya understood immediately. Mu Jinpei wanted her to help cover the lie when speaking with Ji Changsheng. Ji was probably worried that if Mu Jinpei wasn’t a true Mu by blood, he might eventually be edged out of M.K., and thus unfit to marry his daughter.

It wasn’t a huge favor, but in some sense, it involved the Mu family’s reputation. After all, the old master still cared about what outsiders said about his son. If word got out that Mu Jinpei was adopted, people’s first assumption would be that her older brother was infertile.

But the humiliation she’d endured over the years had left her unwilling to help Mu Jinpei with a calm heart. After all, he was the child Pei Yu had raised.

It was because of him that Xie Yuncheng was denied the right to inherit M.K.

Mu Wenya quickly composed herself and smiled:
“Of course I’ll help. We’re all family, after all. But you know, I’m over fifty now. My memory’s getting worse, and my reactions are slower. If I slip up and don’t cover the lie properly, I hope you won’t blame me.”

A smile laced with barbs—every word a veiled threat.

Mu Jinpei remained unfazed. “Just do your best.”

Then he added, changing the tone:
“I’ve heard that for memory issues, aversion therapy works well. Helps with sluggish reflexes, too. For example, if one day the entire M.K. Group bears only the surname Mu and there’s no room left for the Xie name, your memory problem might just cure itself.”

Mu Wenya clenched her cup tightly. The fake smile she wore finally cracked.

“Are you threatening me?”

Mu Jinpei nodded. “You guessed right.”

Mu Wenya: “……”

She was so angry she could barely breathe.

“Mu Jinpei, don’t forget the Mu family still has my father and my brother. Don’t get too cocky.”

Mu Jinpei unscrewed his water bottle, took a few slow sips, and then said,
“Whether I’m cocky or not, and to what degree, entirely depends on your level of cooperation, Aunt.”