Chapter 19

Chapter 19

*

The moment she saw the message, Jin Mo, who had just lain down, was suddenly wide awake.

Although Yin Jihong was a smooth operator, he was also famous for being hot-and-cold. This Young Master of the Yin Family, if he was in a bad mood on any given day, wouldn't do anyone any favors—even if it cost him a fortune. He really did whatever he wanted, no matter what.

But when it came to her, he never flaked or changed his mind at the last minute.

In all these years, he'd never once done it.

She sat up in bed, phone in hand, and thought for a second before sending him a voice message: "Is it that the A+ deal can't be wrapped up?"

Knowing Yin Jihong, in a situation like this, he'd normally hit her with a voice call within seconds—since a lot of things could only be properly talked through on a call.

But this time, he neither called nor sent a voice message. He just texted back, in a tone so calm it was almost cold: "Yes. Their proposal this time finally has some substance to it, but we're still hammering out the details. There's no way we can finish tonight."

"The whole team gave up their New Year to come back and slug it out with me. At this critical point, there's no way I can just ditch everyone and walk away."

"Momo, I'm sorry. This one's on me. Whatever you want to do to punish me or make it up to you, I'm game."

With him putting it that way, the Xinjiang trip was clearly off the table.

For this trip to Xinjiang, Yin Jihong had specially booked her a backcountry ski spot at Jikepulin, so she could finally ski the powder she'd been dying to try. He'd even booked the hotel suite and top-notch meals ahead of time, all just to make sure she had a great New Year.

And he'd also gotten himself brand-new ski gear and a snowboard. He'd been just as excited about it as she was—maybe even more.

She figured the trip falling apart had to be hitting him even harder than it hit her.

"It's fine," Jin Mo took a deep breath and typed slowly. "We'll have other chances."

With her hair down, she sat there quietly staring at their chat screen. Then a thought hit her, and she sent another voice message: "Brother Ji, can you not cancel all the plans over there? I want to go on my own."

Yin Jihong clearly hadn't expected her to say that: "You're going alone? No way. It's too dangerous without anyone with you."

"There's nothing dangerous about it," she said, soft but firm, trying to coax him. "You made all these arrangements for me in advance. What could possibly go wrong? Besides, skiing is a solo sport by nature. Remember when we went together before and you had urgent work? Didn't I hit the slopes alone then?"

She wasn't lying. Skiing isn't a group activity; it's more like a solo retreat, a kind of meditation between heaven and earth. Without anyone bothering you, you can enjoy it even more.

"No, it's too unsafe," Yin Jihong said, leaving no room for argument. "Backcountry terrain is way more complicated than regular slopes. You going alone—there's no way I can relax."

Jin Mo bit her lip: "Don't you want to make it up to me? Let me go on this trip alone, and I'll forgive you five percent."

She usually seemed gentle and easygoing, but when she really dug in her heels, even someone as domineering as Yin Jihong sometimes didn't know what to do with her.

Jin Mo knew that with how carefully Yin Jihong watched over her, like she was the apple of his eye, getting him to agree to let her go to Xinjiang for backcountry skiing alone was basically a pipe dream.

But in those few seconds, she'd made up her mind. She wanted to be selfish this once.

Not for any other reason—she just wanted to find a real outlet to unwind during this stifling, depressing Spring Festival.

After she sent that message, there was no reply for a long time.

She followed up with a few more messages, telling him she'd made all the preparations, every word showing she was set on going alone.

Her messages went into the void, but she believed he must have seen them all.

Before bed, she typed one last message and hit send:

"Like you said, you can't be by my side every single moment. I need to learn to accept and get used to these times without you. I have to walk this road alone."

-

The next morning, Yan Qinxuan's flashy pure white Cayenne pulled up right on time at the Jin family villa.

Jin Ping and Jiang Ting walked Jin Mo to the door, reminding her over and over to be careful on the trip.

To keep Jin Ping and the others from getting suspicious, Yan Qinxuan deliberately got out of the car, chatted and laughed with the two elders, and laid out a detailed itinerary for their "Boracay" trip.

Which day they'd hit the beach, which restaurant had the best seafood, even the hotel's location—she rattled it all off without missing a beat.

Once the driver pulled away from the villa, Jin Mo finally couldn't help but laugh as she glanced at Yan Qinxuan: "You're getting way too good at this. Listening to you, I almost believed we were really going to Boracay."

"Hey, in the business world, you've got to know how to spin both the truth and the lies," the Yan family's eldest daughter, who could carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, winked at her. "But seriously, Tianli and I were already planning to hit Boracay sometime. I've done my homework, so I can talk about it in detail."

After a pause, Yan Qinxuan added: "Oh, and tomorrow I'll have someone Photoshop a couple of pics of us and send them to you. You can just forward them to Uncle Jin and Aunt Jiang to cover your tracks."

"When you get back from Xinjiang, I'll pick you up at the airport."

Hearing this, Jin Mo quietly looked at Yan Qinxuan for a few seconds, then couldn't help but lean over and press against her: "Thank you, Xuan Xuan."

Her best friend, to help cover her real whereabouts, had not only gotten up early during the New Year holiday to drive her to the airport herself, but was also handling all the little details to keep the story straight, quietly protecting her from getting caught.

It's because there are warm, thoughtful girls like Yan Qinxuan in this world that you can really believe sincere, passionate friendship actually exists.

They chatted nonstop on the way to the airport, but Jin Mo never once mentioned that Yin Jihong couldn't come with her to Xinjiang. She knew Yan Qinxuan too well—if she found out, she'd probably react even more strongly than Yin Jihong.

She didn't want anyone else worrying about her.

When they got to the airport, Jin Mo waved goodbye to Yan Qinxuan and headed into the terminal.

They'd agreed to meet at the check-in counter. But he hadn't replied to any of her messages all night. Clutching her phone, Jin Mo couldn't help feeling anxious—she had no idea if he'd actually send someone to drop off her ski gear.

As boarding time got closer, Jin Mo took a deep breath and decided to check in.

If Yin Jihong didn't end up sending her ski gear, she could figure something out once she got to Xinjiang—she could buy it at a mall or rent it near the resort. It wasn't a big deal.

Just as she put her suitcase on the conveyor belt, a familiar pale pink leather case was set down behind hers by a hand with well-defined fingers.

"This is hers too. Please check them in together."

Jin Mo froze. She noticed the girl at the check-in counter staring behind her with barely contained excitement.

She turned around and froze.

Chen Yuanshan stood right behind her, a khaki overcoat making his tall, straight frame look even sharper, with a white turtleneck underneath. He looked refined and warm, and there was a black suitcase beside him.

Chen Yuanshan gave her a slight nod and said softly, "Momo."

Jin Mo really hadn't expected to see Chen Yuanshan here. She stood frozen for a good ten seconds before managing, with disbelief, "...Brother Yuanshan? What are you doing here?"

Chen Yuanshan set his documents on the counter and smiled at her: "Someone sent me to be your messenger and bodyguard."

……

Meanwhile, in the top-floor conference room of the Yin Corporation building, the atmosphere was so tense you could barely breathe.

Yin Jihong sat at the head of the round table, with a cup of long-cold coffee on his left and an untouched cup of cold medicine on his right. He had on a face mask, a cooling patch on his forehead, and was wrapped in a cashmere blanket.

He looked pathetic and kind of funny at the same time.

On the left side of the long table sat the A+ reps—a bunch of blonde, blue-eyed foreigners who, even in the dead of winter, were dressed in shirts and dress pants. Looking closely, you could see beads of sweat on each of their foreheads—not only was the meeting room's heat blasting, but because Yin Jihong had a fever and was sensitive to the cold, he'd had the temperature cranked up extra high.

On the right side of the long table sat Yin Jihong's executive team. These elites all had grim faces, stubble covering their jaws, and bloodshot eyes, looking as if they hadn't slept in days.

Ever since Yin Jihong came to the company after arguing with Jin Ping that day, he'd discovered he had a fever. He'd called his private doctor over to run tests for various viruses, only to find he hadn't caught any of them—it was just a plain cold with a fever.

But he rarely got sick, and when he did, it hit him like a freight train. That very night, his temperature shot up to 104°F, and his throat felt like sandpaper—every word he spoke was agonizing.

On top of being seriously ill, he still had to deal with those sharks from A+.

Originally, he'd figured that as long as he could close the deal with A+ in time, he'd die on the plane to Xinjiang if he had to. Unfortunately, the A+ people weren't easy marks. The new proposal looked better on the surface, but every clause had a landmine buried in it.

After going through the proposal overnight with his strategy and legal teams, they concluded that this version was even worse than the last one.

Yin Jihong was about to have Cheng Shu send them packing right then and there.

The A+ people clearly knew how to push over the soft and cower before the hard. Seeing he was genuinely angry, they started softening their stance, repeatedly insisting the proposal could still be negotiated.

Yin Jihong's patience was exhausted. He decided to let them stew, saying they could talk after the Spring Festival, and insisted on showing them out.

Then, just as Cheng Shu had loaded his luggage and ski gear for Xinjiang into the car and returned to the office, he found their oh-so-esteemed, insufferable, almighty Young Master sprawled out flat on the floor, looking like he'd passed out cold.

Cheng Shu's heart nearly stopped, and he sprinted over and hauled him up.

Yin Jihong had barely risen from his chair when his vision went black and he broke out in a cold sweat all over. His body gave out and he hit the floor.

He slumped against the sofa for ages, barely prying his eyes open. Pale-faced, he looked at Cheng Shu, and the first thing out of his mouth was still a threat: "If you dare tell anyone what just happened—especially Momo—you can go back to herding cows in the boonies. I'll haunt you from the grave."

Cheng Shu's shoulders shook as he stifled a laugh, nodding like his life depended on it: "...Mr. Yin, don't worry. I didn't see anything."

So, by now, no matter how unwilling Yin Jihong was, he could only send Jin Mo his first time flaking on a promise to her.

Forget going to Xinjiang—he couldn't even drag himself out of his own office. If he dragged himself to the airport, he'd probably croak mid-flight.

But he flat-out refused to tell Jin Mo he was running a fever. First, he didn't want to worry her; second, it was plain embarrassing.

He wanted Jin Mo to always see him as this invincible, larger-than-life figure.

Not as some pathetic loser who couldn't even follow through on a trip he'd been hyped about because of a stupid cold.

Just then, Cheng Shu crept up behind Yin Jihong and held up his phone to show him a new message.

Momo: "Why's Brother Yuanshan here?"

The fever had him shaking and drained, too weak to even lift an arm. Every message he'd sent her last night had been typed out by Cheng Shu.

Cheng Shu was his polar opposite in personality, so their texting styles were night and day. Any sweet words that went through Cheng Shu came out cold and clinical, with zero emotional warmth. Though he could convey the meaning, it never landed right.

Sending cold, clipped messages for work was one thing, but sending Jin Mo such stiff texts made him itch with annoyance.

So, later last night, he just stopped making Cheng Shu text back for him.

He could tell Jin Mo was disappointed, and he could see she really wanted to go skiing by herself.

No way was he letting her go to Xinjiang alone. Even though he'd already arranged everything on that end, as long as he wasn't by her side, he couldn't rest easy.

But he couldn't bear to go against her wishes either. She was always so gentle and considerate, always accommodating others. This was a rare moment of willfulness, and he couldn't bring himself to refuse.

He couldn't stand either choice—so how the hell do you fix that?

And so, the Young Master of the Yin Family, wrapped in a blanket and slumped on the office sofa, racked his fever-fogged brain till 3 a.m., then made a call to Chen Yuanshan.

Chen Yuanshan picked up quickly, his voice startlingly clear: "What's up?"

"You're still awake?" Yin Jihong forced out a joke in a voice so hoarse it was barely audible. "Don't tell me you're using a blow-up doll too?"

"'Too'?" Chen Yuanshan caught the keyword, his tone laced with amusement. "Who's using one?"

"Guozi."

"Given how that one at Guozi's place is, if she found out you called her a blow-up doll, she'd blow up your entire Yin Tower."

"So Guozi really does have someone? I thought he was making it up."

Chen Yuanshan chuckled, ruthlessly calling him out: "Yin Jihong, you're so jealous."

Yin Jihong had no patience for banter and got straight to the point: "Can you come over to my office right now?"

Chen Yuanshan sounded like he was laughing in exasperation: "I just got off the phone with Ke Qingteng, and now you're calling? You two are really something—my dear brothers, keeping me up all night and dragging me out. And... what's wrong with your voice?"

"Just come over first." Yin Jihong didn't have the energy to explain, hanging up quickly. "Gotta go. I need to save my breath."

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Author's note:

Red envelopes continue to drop randomly! Keep hitting me with bookmarks, comments, and nutrient solution—I love you all! Also, don't forget to follow my column! Feel free to check out my next new novel, "The Crane," a Beijing circle story (might also switch to a Beijing circle ensemble piece), full of mature, spicy characters—it's a blast, haha.

I can't with this chapter—I'm literally dying laughing!!! Who would've guessed?? The little dog actually sent Shanmei to Xinjiang with Momo!! I won't spoil how amazing the plot gets from here—you'll have to guess yourselves, hahaha!!

Chen Yuanshan: Am I a brick? Just move me wherever needed??? You're out of steam and you think you can boss me around??

Yin Jihong: Whatever, you're single anyway. You've got nothing but time.

Chen Yuanshan: Then go boss around Guozi and his blow-up doll.

Guozi: ?

"Blow-up doll": I'll have the male lead blow up your house! See if you're still laughing then!!!

Tomorrow's even better—come leave passionate comments!