Chapter 34 Which Mr. Chen

Chapter 34 Which Mr. Chen

Chen Wan thanked the second assistant for her thoughtful reminder over the phone, but in his heart, he had no intention of actually trying it.

This was the number Zhao Shengge had left him for emergencies, to be used only when something unusual was detected, not for personal gain.

That string of numbers felt like a password or an incantation, capable of flipping a switch in Chen Wan's emotions. Even though he had silently repeated it countless times in his mind and on his lips, he never really thought he would actually dial it.

Besides the phone, Chen Wan and Zhao Shengge were also part of a group chat, which was created by Tan Youming, but he and Zhao Shengge were not friends.

Many late nights, Chen Wan had visited Zhao Shengge's profile, but he never thought of adding him as a friend.

The party was scheduled for Sunday, and by Friday, Chen Wan still hadn't received any reply from Zhao Shengge's second assistant. From eagerly checking his emails and messages daily, he had almost resigned himself to the idea that Zhao Shengge wouldn't come.

Zhao Shengge's time was precious, counted in minutes and seconds. Even Tan Youming and Shen Zongnian couldn't always get him to attend, let alone Chen Wan.

This was likely the first time Chen Wan had invited Zhao Shengge in his own name, and he couldn't help but feel a bit regretful. He wasn't aiming for anything special, but since Zhao Shengge had arranged security and a housekeeper for him, it was only polite to thank him face-to-face.

Sunday was approaching, and there was still no word from Zhao Shengge's assistant.

By convention, whether he was coming or not, there should have been a clear response.

Chen Wan pondered it and couldn't resist calling again.

This time, it wasn't the kind and friendly second assistant who answered, but the supposedly more distant special assistant.

But Chen Wan felt that the other party's attitude was still respectful and polite.

He tactfully asked about the invitation for the following day, and the other party said that the second assistant usually handled Zhao Shengge's schedule, but she was on a business trip recently. He needed to verify before he could give Chen Wan a reply, and he apologized.

Chen Wan sensed something was amiss, but since the other party's tone and wording were very professional and serious, he didn't dwell on it.

"But Mr. Chen," the special assistant finally said, "the weekend is Zhao Shengge's personal time, and often we can't even guarantee we can reach him. If you have something urgent, it might be more efficient to call him directly."

Chen Wan was startled, as the second assistant had suggested the same thing.

The second assistant had advised him to call the private number directly, and now the special assistant was also suggesting he contact Zhao Shengge personally. Chen Wan couldn't help but marvel at how challenging it was even for insiders to contact Zhao Shengge. Everyone had it tough.

Chen Wan had never seriously considered calling Zhao Shengge's private number directly, but with both "close confidants" suggesting the same thing, he began to hesitate: "Would calling directly bother Mr. Zhao?"

"It shouldn't, Mr. Chen," the special assistant said casually. "If Zhao Shengge doesn't want to be reached, you won't be able to bother him."

"..." That made sense. The other party must have had ample experience with missed connections. Chen Wan thanked him, "Alright, I'll try it then. Thank you, Assistant He."

"You're welcome."

After the call ended, Chen Wan held his phone still, carefully composing his words in his mind and mentally preparing himself for a while.

When the special assistant brought in some documents, Zhao Shengge was in the middle of a video conference.

He saw his boss glance at his phone but promptly put it back in the drawer.

By the time work ended, the special assistant went in again to collect the documents Zhao Shengge had approved, and the private phone was back on the desk.

Zhao Shengge remained in his office until ten o'clock. The CBD district of Haishi was a city that never slept, its skyscrapers aglow.

He took the private phone, which had been silent but was now at 5% battery, and walked out the door.

In the hallway, he bumped into the assistant who had gone to the pantry—the second assistant who the special assistant had said was on a business trip.

The assistant respectfully asked, "Mr. Zhao Shengge, should I reserve your time for tomorrow evening?"

Zhao Shengge's time is calculated by the hour, and his usual schedule is managed by her. She had already prepared the schedule for the upcoming week, with only tomorrow evening still blank.

Since Zhao Shengge hadn’t confirmed with her yet.

The fluorescent lights in the corridor were very bright at night, making Zhao Shengge’s face appear stern. The assistant instinctively knew it wasn’t the right time to ask this question, but it was her job.

Fortunately, Zhao Shengge's phone vibrated at that moment, and he quickly glanced at the screen.

Because his gaze was so direct and swift, the assistant couldn't help but instinctively lower her head as well.

But the caller ID wasn't a name; it was a symbol or pattern of some sort, which she didn't see clearly.

Zhao Shengge didn't answer the call immediately. He gestured for the assistant to leave first, then walked toward the elevator with his phone, only picking up just before the call was about to disconnect.

Even after answering, he didn't speak right away.

Chen Wan listened to the static on the other end, his heart racing, but he maintained a calm and composed voice: "Hello, is this Mr. Zhao?"

Zhao Shengge still didn't speak, not until the very last second before Chen Wan's heart was about to stop beating, and then he directly called out his name: "Chen Wan."

Chen Wan’s ears rang. Zhao Shengge seemed to be in some vast, empty space, his voice low, carrying a faint echo.

Chen Wan clutched his phone tightly, his voice still steady, in a calm, deferential tone: "Yes, it's me, Mr. Zhao."

Zhao Shengge didn't take the elevator down but instead pushed open the door to the stairwell. He was alone on this floor.

After the motion-sensor light turned off, it was pitch black. He leaned against the wall, one hand in his pocket, head lowered, appearing completely at ease, and asked in a light tone, "What is it?"

Chen Wan delivered the lines he’d rehearsed all day: "Well, I was hospitalized a few days ago, and everyone came to visit me. Now that I'm out of the hospital, I'd like to invite everyone to dinner. It's set for Sunday evening at seven. I was hoping you might be free."

After a few seconds, Zhao Shengge asked softly, "You’re inviting me?"

Chen Wan's heart pounded: "Yes, I'd like to invite you. Are you available?"

Zhao Shengge didn't say whether he was available or not. Instead, he slowly walked downstairs while glancing at his watch, his tone flat and unreadable: "Scheduled for Sunday at seven, and it’s already Saturday at ten."

"..." Hearing this, Chen Wan also felt that he was being abrupt and insincere. Inviting someone to dinner should be done at least a few days in advance, especially for someone as busy as Zhao Shengge.

This wasn’t proper etiquette.

He had made a mistake by not following the assistant's advice to personally call and invite him earlier, needlessly wasting time.

It was very rude.

Chen Wan grew anxious, afraid Zhao Shengge wouldn’t sense his sincerity, and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Zhao, I didn’t plan this well."

He didn't mention that he had already called his assistant twice and had sent the invitation a week ago, only saying, "I should have invited you earlier. So... are you still free this Sunday evening?"

Zhao Shengge didn't expect Chen Wan to take full responsibility for this without mentioning that he had already sent the invitation through the assistant a week ago. After a moment of silence, he said, "Did you call my assistant on Tuesday?"

Chen Wan was startled. So the assistant had conveyed the message after all. Why did Zhao Shengge only find out tonight?

Zhao Shengge remained calm and composed: "She said Mr. Chen invited me, but I didn't know which Mr. Chen it was."

"..." Chen Wan didn't know if he was telling the truth, but he took the blame graciously, "I must have forgotten to leave my name. Since I didn't get a response, I could only take the liberty of trying to call your private number. I hope you don’t think it’s too forward."

Chen Wan always overthought things. This number was given to him by Zhao Shengge for emergencies, and he was using it to invite him to dinner. He wondered if Zhao Shengge would think he was being presumptuous or greedy.

Zhao Shengge said with an ambiguous tone, "So I actually left you my private number."

"..."

This could be taken as Zhao Shengge sarcastically hinting that Chen Wan hadn’t personally called to invite him promptly, or it could be understood that Zhao Shengge genuinely forgot he had given Chen Wan his number.

Either way, it was open to too many interpretations, so Chen Wan cautiously explained, "You did, that night I was in the hospital, remember?"

Chen Wan instantly regretted it—it came off sounding like a complaint or reproach, which was not his intention at all. He only meant to confirm and jog Zhao Shengge’s memory about it.

But no matter how he put it, it felt wrong. Chen Wan hoped he could return to normal as soon as possible.

Zhao Shengge didn’t seem to pick up on anything odd. He just said "Oh," then casually added, "Now I remember."

"..."