Chapter 13: Can’t Help It, They’re Just Country Bumpkins Like That

Chapter 13: What Can You Do? That's Just How Us Country Bumpkins Are

By the time Song Jiang arrived at the hotel, he felt a bit relieved that he had worn a suit. Otherwise, with a tank top, shorts, and flip-flops, he wouldn’t have dared to walk in.

Damn, this place was truly high-end.

It was under the Chu Group.

This was Song Jiang’s first time at a place like this.

Take a look at this splendor—the kind that could blind a dog.

And those ostentatious decorations, as if they were afraid people wouldn’t know how wealthy this place was.

Everyone coming and going was either rich or noble.

And as for him, just a workhorse, he was only able to get in thanks to the tycoon boss.

Did he really come in here as a butler and part-time driver? Just to embarrass himself?

Others were all in custom-tailored, perfectly fitted suits, while his outfit, costing just a few hundred RMB, was completely out of place for such an occasion.

Sigh.

He felt inferior.

Just as Song Jiang was sighing to himself.

"Steward Song, could you please stop acting like you’ve never seen the world before?"

Damn, did the tycoon boss have a surveillance camera on him?

Song Jiang stealthily glanced at Mei Moyu standing beside him.

Hmm, he wasn’t the only country bumpkin.

What can you do? That’s just how us country bumpkins are.

At that moment, Mei Moyu was quietly touching the gold-trimmed table.

As the tycoon boss’s secretary, Mei Moyu naturally had to attend this kind of event.

Look, the tycoon boss had barely entered when many people came up to greet him.

Mei Moyu stood beside Song Jiang and said in a voice only the two could hear, "Oh no, I can’t remember which company this CEO is from!"

"Think, damn brain, think!"

"Mr. Fu, it’s an honor to finally meet you in person—I’ve heard so much about you."

An elderly man with graying hair, who looked at least fifty, stroked his beard and smiled, "Mr. Fu, do you remember me? I held you when you were a child."

That was truly a classic way to strike up a conversation—throwing out the "I held you when you were little."

Mei Moyu, true to his role as secretary, managed to keep calm even when he couldn’t remember who they were. He shook hands with them and exchanged corporate pleasantries.

Don’t ask why—the tycoon boss had a cleanliness obsession and never shook hands with anyone. If someone touched him, he had to disinfect ten times.

So this kind of thing was always done by Secretary Mei Moyu.

It was a good thing the tycoon boss was rich and powerful; otherwise, who would put up with such a weird cleanliness obsession?

And as for him, he was just the tycoon boss’s little butler. He didn’t need to say pleasantries, he didn’t understand business operations, and if anyone asked him anything, he would be completely clueless.

All he had to do was stand silently behind the tycoon boss like a pillar.

That was how Song Jiang always defined himself.

"Oh?"

"And who do we have here?"

"It’s my wheelchair-bound cousin. You finally made it."

The speaker’s tone was sarcastic and flippant.

Especially the word "wheelchair," which he emphasized.

Anyone with half a brain could tell he was deliberately mocking the tycoon boss.

This person was named Fan Jian, and his father was Fan Bin.

Yes, you heard that right—that was the villain’s name.

One was "Fan Jian" (asking for trouble), and the other "Fan Bin" (acting crazy).

Fan Bin was a big shot on the board of the Fu Group.

He was said to have built the company together with Fu Zhichen’s parents from the start and worked his way up with them; he counted as a company veteran.

As for Fan Jian, he was much like Chu Yan—a playboy.

The difference between the two might be that Chu Yan never got entangled with any woman; he only teased but never got serious.

Fan Jian, on the other hand, relying on his father’s money, changed partners every few days—a pure scumbag when it came to relationships.

Fan Bin was Fu Zhichen’s uncle, and Fan Jian and Fu Zhichen were the same age.

Thus, people often compared Fan Jian to the tycoon boss.

Fan Jian knew he couldn’t measure up, so he always held a grudge against Fu Zhichen.

Fan Jian’s words didn’t affect Fu Zhichen at all. Even sitting in a wheelchair, the tycoon boss’s aura still crushed him.

"Secretary Mei, please go ask Chu Yan why his party allows random cats and dogs in."

Mei Moyu stifled a laugh: "Yes, Mr. Fu."

Fan Jian was furious: "Cousin, what do you mean by that?"

Fu Zhichen casually swirled a glass of wine, took a sip, and said flatly, "Exactly what I said."

Ha—he walked right into it. Whoever responded was the one being called out.

Fan Jian’s face turned pale with anger, and he was about to argue.

Just then, a voice came from the microphone on the stage.

"Thank you all for making time in your busy schedules to attend this cocktail party."

"I am Chu Hong, Chairman of the Chu Group. Today, I have gathered everyone here to announce something."

"I'm getting old, and my health is not what it used to be. The Chu Group will eventually be managed by the younger generation..."

Song Jiang didn't listen carefully to the rest.

Um... The gist was probably telling everyone that Chu Yan would be his successor.

Song Jiang's attention was drawn to something else.

On the neighboring table, on an exquisite little tray, were some mousse cakes he had never seen before.

Tsk, he wanted some.

Sure, Song Jiang was a full-grown man, but that didn't stop him from loving mousse cakes.

He and Fu Zhichen were seated at center stage here, surrounded by industry big shots.

Fu Zhichen was deep in conversation with someone, discussing professional jargon.

With Song Jiang's bachelor's degree, well, he couldn't really understand it.

At times like this, sneaking over to grab a few to eat shouldn't be a problem, right?

Well, after an inner debate, Song Jiang decided it was okay.

As long as he was quick enough not to let the big boss catch him, it would definitely be okay.

Song Jiang had already quietly edged backward, his eyes on the big boss, while his body had moved to the edge of the neighboring table, within reach of the mousse cakes he'd been craving.

But just then, he bumped into something.

"Ah!"

This shout nearly scared the life out of Song Jiang, who was already on edge.

After turning around and seeing who he had bumped into, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Miss Tian, what are you doing here?"

"Butler Song, I should be the one asking you! What are you doing here?"

"I came with Mr. Fu."

Tian Tian lifted her chin and asked with a tsundere air, "How do I look today? Do I match the 'Little White Flower' image you mentioned last time?"

Um...

Song Jiang gave Tian Tian a once-over.

Tian Tian was wearing a long white dress, her hair loosely pinned up, with a few strands of wavy hair hanging down on each side of her face. Her skin was fair, and she looked innocent and captivating.

Her outfit was indeed quite nice.

But how should he tell Tian Tian?

That the big boss already had his own Little White Flower.

And that she had even infiltrated the big boss's inner circle, with a skill level far beyond Tian Tian's.

Song Jiang was troubled for a moment, then decided to give an honest assessment.

"Miss Tian, you look great like this."

Tian Tian blushed at the compliment. "Hmph, of course. I specifically hired a stylist. When will Brother Zhichen be free? I came all the way here today just to talk to him."

"Miss Tian, I'm not sure about that."

"How can you not know anything? Aren't you Brother Zhichen's butler? What use are you!"

"..."

Song Jiang didn't want to argue with Tian Tian here. He just wanted to enjoy his mousse cake without disturbance.

It was so delicious, boohoo, so good Song Jiang felt like crying.

Ever since he transmigrated into this book, in order to save money to go home, he hadn't had a single mousse cake.

God knows how much he'd been craving this.

Song Jiang stuffed one into his mouth in just a couple of bites, his cheeks puffed out.

He was completely unaware that, where he wasn't looking, someone was watching his every move.

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