Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Walking out of the interrogation room, Shen Gali let out a long sigh.

Exhausted. The hour-long mental torment had left him disoriented, unable to tell north from south.

Although Nan Liujing, who had unwavering faith in Shen Gali's character, had remained calm and composed throughout the wait, his heart gave a dull pang when he saw the man emerge.

Shen Gali looked thinner, his face haggard, as if he had endured some inhuman torture inside.

Nan Liujing furrowed his brow, his face darkening, startling the young officer accompanying him.

"Mr. Nan, rest assured, it was a routine investigation and questioning. Nothing else happened."

Nan Liujing gave a low "hmm," pulling Shen Gali over to check his hands. Though he said nothing, to others it seemed he was convinced someone had bullied him!

Good heavens, who would dare? Even if he weren't Nan Liujing's spouse, regulations and discipline wouldn't allow it.

Word had it that Nan Liujing's spouse had been brought in, and the bureau chief and department head personally came to see them off, exchanging pleasantries knowingly, their tone neither humble nor arrogant, upholding the dignity of the police force.

After all, they had heard about the online mess. They couldn't control the mouths of netizens, so they could only offer their apologies through respectful farewells.

They had come in a police car but arranged for a driver to avoid more misunderstandings.

In the car, seeing Shen Gali looking listless, Nan Liujing couldn't bear it and said, "Take the afternoon off and rest. No need to come back."

For the first time, Shen Gali felt Nan Liujing wasn't so terrible, and asked, "If I go home, will my afternoon pay be deducted?"

Nan Liujing nodded heartlessly: "Per company policy, yes."

Shen Gali did the math: an afternoon off would cost him about 1,700 yuan.

"Help me up… I can still work."

Nan Liujing raised a hand to hide his smile, muttering "money-grubber" under his breath, then shifted his tone and said with mock seriousness: "But considering this is an unforeseeable event, I’ll give you paid time off."

Shen Gali's eyes lit up, and he pushed his luck: "Can the paid leave be extended?"

"How long?"

"Four years." After four years, he'd easily pocket four million, and immediately hire someone to design his final resting place.

"I know a faster way to make money," Nan Liujing gave an unrelated answer, his fingers casually stroking his knee, looking perfectly at ease.

"What?"

"Rob a bank."

Shen Gali just huffed.

Seeing Shen Gali ignore him, Nan Liujing stopped teasing: "Go home and get a good sleep. I'll cook you porridge tonight."

Shen Gali didn't have the energy to answer, slowly closed his eyes.

Meanwhile.

A large crowd of entertainment reporters had already gathered outside Jin Hai International Airport, as someone had leaked that Bai Wei, caught in the storm, would arrive in Jin Hai at five o'clock sharp.

For a scoop, the reporters had been staking out every corner of the airport for over an hour.

The online rumors continued to ferment, with endless voices of abuse and slander. This seemed to have become a strange internet phenomenon: regardless of whether people had any issue with the person before, what mattered was enjoying the spectacle. Afraid the topic would cool too quickly and rob them of entertainment, they kept stoking the fire, firmly believing:

A lie repeated a thousand times becomes the truth.

Among the trending topics, the most liked comment read: "Bai Wei, a cradle-robber, disregarding the law by hiring thugs to harm others; Shen Gali, with a wicked heart, boycott all his works, give us a clean space!"

This was another peculiar feature: there were many rational voices, but the top-liked comment was always negative. Thus, those spreading rumors became the heroes of justice in everyone's eyes. Explanations from those involved were useless—explaining was just making excuses.

At this point, if Bai Wei's team came out to clean up comments and reduce malicious spread, netizens would only think she had a guilty conscience and was trying to silence criticism.

At 5:30, Bai Wei, dressed discreetly in a baseball cap and sunglasses, finally appeared in the eagerly awaiting crowd. Despite her heavy disguise, the reporters, with noses as sharp as dogs’, instantly sniffed her out and swarmed around her.

Besides reporters, curious onlookers also joined the fray, raising their phones to take videos or stream live.

Some sighed that being a celebrity was tough—wherever you go, you're surrounded on all sides, never at peace.

But they didn't know it was all part of her plan.

For the latest exclusive, reporters fired questions one after another, their microphones nearly shoved into Bai Wei's mouth.

Bai Wei no longer hid. She took off her sunglasses and smiled with composure: "Everyone, gathering here will affect traffic. Since you have so many questions, why don't we find a quiet place to talk slowly?"

But the reporters couldn't wait. One shouted loudly, "The internet is buzzing that you're keeping a young hottie, giving him top-tier resources, and he’s the eldest son’s spouse of Huanhai Electronics. Surely you know he's gay and married?"

Bai Wei let out a soft laugh, her eyes crinkling into soft crescents: "I know."

"So you admit to the sugar-daddy relationship?"

Bai Wei just smiled: "Strange. Why would I admit to something that isn't true?"

"But someone took photos of Shen Gali entering your residence last night and staying overnight. How do you explain that?" The reporter pressed aggressively, his face twisted, as if he wouldn't stop until he'd dug up everything about her ancestors.

As the recorder swayed before her, Bai Wei smiled, snatched it, and held it squarely to her mouth. Her face bore a warm, composed smile:

"Mr. Reporter, and all the netizens watching this live broadcast, I hope everyone understands one thing: in this world, whoever shouts loudest isn't necessarily right. The purpose of discussion is to find the truth, not to impose one's own conclusions above the truth."

An impatient reporter snapped: "Please answer my question seriously and don't beat around the bush."

Bai Wei maintained a humble and polite smile and continued:

"I wasn't going to bring this up originally. Bringing it up would embarrass everyone. But some people always force a person into a corner. So let me speak frankly. Yes, Shen Gali stayed at my place last night."

"So you admit it!" The reporter's heart leaped, rejoicing at the silver about to roll in.

"There's nothing to deny. Not only Shen Gali, but also the CEO of Huanhai Electronics stayed at my place last night. If any reporters had been staking out, they would know that. They deliberately omitted parts and took things out of context, steering the matter in a strange direction."

Bai Wei looked at the reporters: "I still remember your paper's motto: 'Uncover the truth, be a media with conscience and heart.'"

The reporters exchanged glances. Perhaps some felt stung by those words, their faces reddening as they slowly lowered their microphones.

Bai Wei gave a soft laugh, returned the recorder to the reporter, and lowered her voice, gentle yet forceful: "If I recall, it was also journalists from your newspaper who, over twenty years ago, cornered me at the airport and publicized the loss of my beloved son loudly, accusing me of being an irresponsible mother."

"For twenty-two years, I never gave up searching for my son. I visited many orphanages, received hundreds or even thousands of calls saying they had news of my son, but every time, it ended in disappointment." As Bai Wei spoke, her nose stung, and the scene before her blurred.

Everyone could hear her voice break.

She forced herself to smile again, but her eyes held no trace of amusement: "Now that I've found him, you accuse me of being irresponsible. So I give him the best resources I have, and you say I'm complicit in wrongdoing. What exactly am I supposed to do?"

Hearing this, everyone was dumbfounded, their minds a tangle, unable to make sense of it.

"So you're saying that Shen Gali is actually the child you lost twenty-two years ago?" Finally, someone smart put two and two together.

"Yes, I originally didn't want to say it because I know the industry I'm in is a mixed bag—some people will stop at nothing to get ahead. I witnessed it more than twenty years ago, so I didn't dare to say it explicitly before because I was afraid he might get hurt. As a mother, I just want to protect my child. It's that simple."

Bai Wei looked into the camera, as if warning those who had spoken rudely in the live stream:

"I've read all the comments online. My assistant is already gathering evidence. I will sue anyone who slanders or defames me or my son to the fullest extent of the law. You need to understand that the internet is not a lawless place, and everyone must be responsible for their own words."

After saying this, she put on her sunglasses and got into the car under the escort of her bodyguards.

Leaving behind a crowd of entertainment reporters, seemingly still dazed by the shocking reversal, standing there foolishly, as if their souls had been drained.

The moment it happened, the person in charge of Weibo, eager to protect himself and avoid being blamed for poor management, quickly took down all trending topics related to Shen Gali and Bai Wei.

But there was one he didn't dare remove: the feedback from the Jin Hai Criminal Investigation Bureau regarding the investigation results.

The investigation confirmed that Shen Gali had nothing to do with the case. The police also apologized and compensated for the damage to his work and reputation, and issued a stern warning:

"The internet is not a lawless place. Please be cautious with your words."

"See? Those who insisted that Jiali was the murderer, show yourselves?"

"I'm dying laughing. Shen Gali is the murderer? Then I'm a future soldier. Just look at that lazy vibe of his (affectionate, dog face emoji)."

"So who's the real culprit? Seems like it's probably someone close to Shen Gali?"

"Old butler in his twilight years, or the husband in a wheelchair—take your pick."

"Haha, I don't care about all that. I'm just happy. Thank you, officers, for bringing justice and clearing Li Bao's name [rose]."

"Worried for the trolls. Open your door tomorrow and boom—such a massive cease-and-desist letter hitting your face."

The trolls weren't afraid. They thought that with so many people spreading rumors, the police wouldn't bother, and celebrities were too busy to sue everyone one by one. At worst, a lawyer's letter is just a scare tactic, not a court summons. Who's afraid of that?

But most people were intimidated by Bai Wei's toughness and quickly groveled with apologies.

The fans finally had their moment of pride, crying tears of joy:

"What kind of legendary crossover is this? Sister Weiwei is Li Bao's biological mom! I'm crying, fam!"

Sobbing, Sister Weiwei's words made me cry. A mother just wants to protect her child, but she was trashed by malicious people, and in such a disgusting way."

"Support Sister Wei in suing! She must sue!"

"Go ahead and sue. Just a reminder: you have to sue Weibo first to get their personal information. Do you think Weibo will care? Been a star too long and think you're the emperor of heaven? Sue your ass."

"Emmm. The one above? Zhang X Nan from Class 12 of Senior 2 at Hai Da Affiliated High School. Head teacher Wang X Guo. Already contacted your school. Let's see how they handle it."

"Holy crap, sis, you're awesome! How did you dig that up?"

"She wrote it in her own info..."

"Hahaha, another brainless netizen."

"Support Sister Wei in suing! Gotta teach these cyber mean girls a lesson!"

The sister who was just yelling for Bai Wei to sue immediately groveled, writing a thousand-character essay in tears, saying she knew she was wrong, that she was young and ignorant, and hoped Bai Wei would forgive her and not contact her school.

Bai Wei: "Youth is not a get-out-of-jail-free card. Don't drag all young people into the mud with you. Society still has more people with conscience and decency."

Not long after Bai Wei and Shen Gali fell off the trending list, they shot back up.

#Bai Wei Shen Gali Mom Love Me Again#

All celebrities, influencers, and children's homes forwarded the post to send blessings, moved by Bai Wei's twenty-plus-year struggle to find her child; finally, her perseverance paid off.

Lancer Jewelry also released their ad at the perfect time. The audience commented:

"Wow! So beautiful! I've finally seen someone more beautiful than Bai Wei! Shen Gali is amazing!"

"Mother-in-law, do you need a son-in-law? I'm young, promising, and have no bad habits. I'm willing to devote myself only to Li Li."

"Wife! Even if Nan Liujing beats me to death, I'll still say it—wife!"

"Wow wow wow! Shen Gali is way too good-looking. Those fingers, so slender and white, and his face is stunning. Even the gaudiest gold jewelry looks incredibly chic on him."

"Tonight, every entertainment company will be restless. Let's see which lucky company can sign Xiao Lizi."

"CEO Nan: Think too much. Do I need my wife to go out and earn money?"

"No matter how I think about it, it's a shame. Such a handsome guy married a... sigh, such is the disparity of life."

"No matter how I think about it, Nan Liujing doesn't deserve him."

The wealthy ladies who admired Bai Wei couldn't sit still. Buy, buy, buy—they bought everything! Let them show you the shopping power of rich wives.

Shen Gali's fangirls also couldn't stay calm. Grab, grab, grab—they had to snatch it up. Please, rich ladies, show mercy!

As soon as Lancer's new collection pre-sale opened, everything was sold out within hours, setting a record.

The completely overwhelmed brand had to put up a "Sold Out" sign: Didn't you say you'd boycott? Sure, netizens' mouths are full of lies.

When the police investigating Shen Gali's phone opened his Weibo, countless private messages flooded in. Major brands were extending olive branches, hoping Mr. Shen would do them the honor of checking out their products.

Such amazing sales ability—whoever gets it wins!

Although Nan Liujing didn't like to get involved in online disputes, he wasn't completely out of touch. He asked Special Assistant Lin to compile a list of rumor-mongers and handed it to the lawyer. The first to receive a lawyer's letter was the entitled brat of a medium-sized milk powder company.

The reason he insulted Bai Wei and Shen Gali was simple: Bai Wei had once questioned the quality of their milk powder, saying that after testing, the nutritional content was lower than what was listed on the label, selling inferior products under false pretenses. The originally agreed-upon endorsement was canceled just before signing, causing the company's business to plummet. The son, who used to blow through millions in monthly allowance abroad, suddenly faced severe cuts. Unable to date girls or drive luxury cars, he could only rant online. He was the first to spread the rumor that Bai Wei was keeping a younger lover.

The lawyer's letter was originally just a warning, asking him to delete all false statements and sincerely apologize. The wealthy son, unable to swallow his pride, escalated his insults and rumors instead.

The matter reached his poor father. Upon receiving the lawyer's letter, the father quickly called Nan Liujing, apologizing profusely, saying his child was young and didn't understand, hoping Nan Liujing would let it slide:

"If this blows up, it will cause serious psychological harm to the child. The child is young and ignorant. It's our failure as parents. CEO Nan, please cut him some slack. When you have time, I will definitely bring my son to apologize in person."

While the father was speaking, the background noise included the son's arrogant provocation:

"So what if I said it? I say what I want and I stand by it. Why are you bowing and scraping to apologize to him? He's just a cripple. Does he really think he's above everyone? Sue me? If you have the guts, go ahead!"

The father was at his wit's end. Even though Nan Liujing couldn't see him through the phone, he still bowed and scraped with extreme humility, repeatedly saying the child didn't understand, asking Nan Liujing to be magnanimous and not argue with a child.

Nan Liujing spun the pen in his hand, spinning it a full 360 degrees:

"Child? How old does your precious son need to be to grow up? My lover made millions right after graduating from college."

Of course, the money came from the same source (mine).

"As parents, if you don't know how to educate your own child, society will teach him when he steps out into the real world. I will file a lawsuit as soon as possible. You've been warned." With that, Nan Liujing hung up decisively.

In just half an hour, the arrogant young master publicly humbled himself, posting a 3,000-word apology letter on Weibo under his own name—though netizens dismissed it outright, mocking him for confusing the three homophonic particles “de” (得, 地, 的), implying all his years of schooling had been utterly wasted.

His father would cut off his financial support otherwise. Whether he accepted it or not, the apology had been issued, his dignity shattered—and the objective achieved.

The internet was ablaze with chatter, but Bai Wei’s home remained tranquil.

Chinese people traditionally eat dumplings and tangyuan during festive occasions—dumplings symbolizing “teaching children” (a pun on *jiaozi*), tangyuan signifying “reunion” (a pun on *tangyuan*). Bai Wei sat with the two young men to make dumplings.

But Shen Gali had no idea how to make them. His tie hung loosely over one shoulder; his suit was immaculately worn—even as he fumbled awkwardly with a dumpling wrapper, pinching it into a grotesquely lopsided shape, the filling oozing out messily.

He didn’t actually enjoy making dumplings—but he wanted to impress his mother by appearing clever and dexterous.

Nan Liujing rolled out a square piece of wrapper, glanced at Shen Gali’s outfit, and asked, “Why don’t you change? Didn’t you complain formal wear is too restrictive?”

“I’d just have to put it back on tomorrow morning. Too much trouble,” Shen Gali replied, eyes still fixed on his misshapen dumpling.

“So you plan to shower in your clothes?”

“Yeah—I’ll just sleep in the dryer tonight.”

Nan Liujing: …

Lazy people always find a way.

“Go change. You don’t need to wear formal wear tomorrow.” Nan Liujing caved, as always.

“Huh?” A single syllable—pure, unadulterated confusion.

“Because… tomorrow is the company’s Casual Day.” Nan Liujing paused, then improvised on the spot.

He couldn’t possibly let Shen Gali shower and sleep in his suit—he *knew*, without a doubt, that Shen Gali *would* do exactly that.

Shen Gali: ?

Nan Liujing wiped his hands, pulled out his phone, and messaged the PR manager:

“Notify all departments: formal wear is suspended tomorrow. As long as attire isn’t overly flashy or eccentric, anything goes.”

The moment the message sent, Yu Jinzhu erupted in protest.

“We meet high-profile clients daily—how can we skip formal wear? First campus recruitment, now *Casual Day*? President Nan has truly lost his mind!”

Damn it—he was already suffering cardiac palpitations over Shen Gali’s ‘blessing in disguise,’ and now this damn Casual Day?! Nan Liujing was a tyrant—a *tyrant*! If the tyrant didn’t perish, peace would never come to the world!

Yet no one in the employee group paid him any heed. Instead, they erupted in collective euphoria—as if injected with adrenaline—and immediately began debating what to wear tomorrow.

Men and women alike—who *doesn’t* love beautiful clothes? Being trapped in lifeless suits day after day was an eyesore for everyone. Thank you, President Nan, for this reprieve!

It must be thanks to President Nan’s wife. Favorability rating: UP! UP!

Shen Gali stared pensively at his suit: Should he sell it to pad his personal fund? It *did* look rather valuable.

Nan Liujing: You *dare*.

The next day, Shen Gali donned his coziest pullover sweater and jeans, waiting at the door for Nan Liujing—only to see him still wearing a suit.

*

Nan Liujing had no objection to casual wear, but after surveying his reflection, he concluded a suit still best showcased his handsomeness.

The two entered the office. Everywhere, color and vibrancy reigned. Employees were radiant, smiling broadly, more energetic than usual, cheerfully greeting them: “Good morning, President Nan!”

They *loved* Casual Day. Arriving at work in beautiful clothes, noticing how stunning their colleagues looked sans suits—it infused their workday with renewed vigor.

The two receptionists at the front desk—one wore a square-neck floral dress, the other a lantern-sleeve sweater paired with a pleated maxi skirt—were like two blossoming flowers, dazzling and captivating.

The moment Nan Feiyao stepped into the office, he froze at the unexpected sight—and instinctively glanced down at his own suit.

To assert authority, he pulled aside a random employee and declared sternly, “Company policy mandates formal wear. Which department are you from?”

“The Planning Department… but President Nan said… we don’t need formal wear today.” Scolded first thing in the morning—the employee’s cheerful mood evaporated instantly.

At the mention of Nan Liujing’s name, Nan Feiyao flared with fury: “Don’t you know we’re hosting important foreign guests *today*? President Nan forgot—but *you*, as a member of the Planning Department, failed to remind him?”

The employee stood speechless.

That was true. And he’d heard the foreign guest was a stone-faced devil. If he walked in to see a crowd dressed like they’d wandered in from a farmers’ market, he’d feel disrespected—and question the company’s professionalism. If this deal collapsed, who’d bear responsibility?

Nan Feiyao instantly deduced Shen Gali must have complained about formal wear being uncomfortable—and Nan Liujing, terrified of upsetting his husband, had granted this absurd reprieve.

A tyrant. A *tyrant*!

Wait—viewed another way, tyrants were easier to replace. If this deal fell through, who’d benefit most? *Him*. Nan Feiyao.

Tsk. Nan Liujing—my condolences. And I’ll take it from here.

He quickly drafted a text to his father:

“Dad, the Rosander family arrives today to discuss uranium procurement—but my brother, for some inexplicable reason, has allowed the entire company to wear casual clothes. It’s a riot of colors—utterly unprofessional. Shouldn’t we intervene?”

He expected his father to explode with rage and summon Nan Liujing for a scolding—yet his father replied:

“Quick—send me a photo of Gali in casual clothes. I want to see.”

Nan Feiyao: …

Not a single one of them is normal.

At noon in his office, Nan Liujing removed his glasses and glanced across at Shen Gali, seated at the adjacent desk.

Shen Gali was slightly bent forward, eyes fixed on documents. Above his dark-red turtleneck, a pale neck emerged—its stark contrast against the vivid red creating an arresting visual effect.

*

The soft, glossy ends of his hair brushed his ears, framing a jawline both gentle and sharply defined.

Nan Liujing rested his chin on one hand, gazing intently. Unnoticed, a quiet smile spread across his lips.

So cute.

He closed his laptop, checked his watch, and said to Shen Gali, “Lunchtime. Let’s go eat.”

Shen Gali kept his eyes on the documents, reached beside him for a lunchbox, and replied without looking up: “Leftover squid dumplings from last night.”

Nan Liujing laughed, incredulous: “You expect me to eat leftovers?”

“So you *can’t* eat them?” Shen Gali frowned, baffled. It was just leftovers—why did it sound like a matter of life and death?

Nan Liujing didn't know if never having eaten leftovers counted as a reason. He lifted the lid of the lunchbox and took a look—

Well… judging by the shape, he could tell this batch of dumplings were made by Shen Gali.

The dumplings were droopy and lifeless, lined up neatly like flat pieces of dough, visibly stuck together.

Nan Liujing let out a long sigh.

Since they were made by Shen Gali, he had to eat them; otherwise, Shen Gali would think he looked down on him.

He asked Secretary Yan to heat the dumplings in the microwave and, after hesitating for a long time, took a bite.

Fortunately, the filling was prepared by his mother-in-law, so it wasn't unpalatable.

Shen Gali snapped his folder shut with a smack, stood up, and said, "I'm going to the cafeteria for lunch."

Nan Liujing, with a dumpling gripped between his chopsticks: ?

"You didn't eat, so why bring them?" Nan Liujing asked.

"I didn't eat, so I can't bring them? Is that a company rule?" Shen Gali countered.

Nan Liujing: "...No."

With the definite answer, Shen Gali walked out languidly: "I'm going to eat."

Nan Liujing: ...

Only you, Shen Gali, the giant of bizarre logic.

Shen Gali: The leftovers are taken care of. Mom hates wasting food the most. I'm a well-behaved, likable kid.

*

The news that Huanhai Electronics had implemented a "No Formal Wear Day" soon reached Yu Huaisu's ears. Nan Feiyao embellished the story over the phone, claiming he had made a last-ditch effort but was outranked by higher-ups, making himself sound as wronged as possible.

Unable to sit still after hearing this, Yu Huaisu immediately went to Nan Feng to complain.

Nan Feng was unfazed and didn't take it seriously at all. Holding a golf club, he practiced his swing and said nonchalantly:

"It's just a no-formal-wear day. It's no big deal. Let the kid do what he wants. It's fine as long as it doesn't affect work."

Yu Huaisu's beautiful eyes widened: "Let him do what he wants? The Rosander family is personally visiting the company this afternoon. If they see a group of employees dressed in all sorts of flashy clothes without any discipline, won't they question our company's management system? Won't they question our products?"

Nan Feng was getting tired of hearing this. A hint of impatience crept into his tone: "Liu Jing has been managing the company for so long without a single mistake. Why don't you give him some trust? As long as he can take responsibility if something goes wrong, once the company is handed over to him, we have no right to interfere."

"By the time a mistake happens, it'll be too late to fix it. I've watched Liu Jing grow up. Yes, he's good at everything, but he's also stubborn. That stubborn nature is exactly like his biological mother's. You've seen what his biological mother was like. I'm not slandering Liu Jing, but he's a ticking time bomb. One day, he might end up just like his biological mother..."

"Enough!" Nan Feng cut her off with a cold shout.

Startled by the angry roar, Yu Huaisu's eyes snapped wide open.

"Day in and day out, it's always 'his biological mother this, his biological mother that.' Since you don't treat him as family, then my son's affairs are none of your concern. Don't bring this up again. It ends here." Nan Feng threw down his golf club, sighed heavily, and turned to leave.

Yu Huaisu stood frozen for a long time, her red lips trembling uncontrollably. She let out an incredulous "Ha."

What did he say?

My son's affairs? None of my concern?

So he's already drawing lines?

It seems that sudden change of mind the other day wasn't a coincidence; there were signs all along.

The tears of indignation in Yu Huaisu's eyes smudged the foundation around them, making her eye sockets look even redder and more morbid.

After a long silence, she called her driver and said she wanted to go to Huanhai headquarters immediately to handle the matter personally.

There was no way she was going to let the entire company be disgraced because of Nan Liujing's foolish decision.

...

During lunch break, the Huanhai headquarters building was quiet and peaceful.

After a tiring morning, Shen Gali intended to lie down as usual.

But Nan Liujing, as the employees said, was an indestructible workaholic. Even during lunch break, he was tirelessly glued to his computer.

In the spacious office, the sound of clicking keys was clearly audible—click-clack, click-clack.

Shen Gali, who had been curled up on the sofa and was just about to fall asleep, opened his eyes and complained as usual: "Your keyboard is too noisy."

Nan Liujing glanced at him: "So? You want me to move my computer and work in the hallway?"

Shen Gali: "That works."

Nan Liujing was both amused and exasperated: "Has anyone ever told you you're really unreasonable?"

Shen Gali: "No."

After a moment, he added, "No one wanted to talk to me before."

Nan Liujing's hands suddenly stopped typing.

He stared blankly at the words on the screen, unable to read a single one, his mind stuck on the scar on the left side of his heart.

Back in school, the school would require students to report major medical histories upon enrollment. Some homeroom teachers, afraid of responsibility, would openly announce a student's medical history during class meetings, telling other students to be extra careful and look after him.

From the moment those words were spoken, that student became the "odd one out" in the class.

Shen Gali, is that why you concealed your medical history on the premarital checkup report?

Nan Liujing let out a soft laugh: "Don't worry. From now on, someone will talk to you, and they'll stick to you every day, annoying you to death."

Shen Gali lifted his tired eyes slightly: "You?"

Nan Liujing: "Uncle Li."

Shen Gali: ...

Although he complained about how troublesome Shen Gali was, Nan Liujing's typing speed noticeably slowed down, and his keystrokes became much softer. Every now and then, he would glance over at Shen Gali to see if he was still asleep.

It was a strange feeling—in the midst of busy and tedious work, having someone by your side. Even though no words were exchanged, you could understand each other's difficulties.

But this peaceful tranquility didn't last long. A knock broke the silence.

Nan Liujing frowned and instinctively looked at Shen Gali on the sofa.

Still asleep, thankfully.

He said "Enter" in a low voice. Secretary Yan opened the door: "President Nan, the chairman's wife is here. She says she needs to see you."

Without a moment's hesitation, Nan Liujing replied coldly, "Not seeing her. Tell her someone is resting in my office."

"If Liujing says that, I'll be really heartbroken." A voice laced with laughter rang out, and a wealthy, bejeweled lady shoved past Secretary Yan and walked in on her own.