Chapter 81: Boss Chen’s Compassion

Chen Aijia had completely lost the will to restore the company that had been wrecked. After sending Vice President Su home to rest, she rubbed her aching eyes and descended the staircase, passing floor after floor where employees whispered in hushed circles. Not all of them were Wang Hu’s people, but with the company on the verge of upheaval, they had become invisible supporters of his cause.

Why suppress him? He never intended to be some sort of overlord.

Aijia felt a pang of resentment toward Vice President Su. She hadn’t stopped him out of consideration for his dignity. She knew clearly—if Yang Changfeng hadn’t left, she would have apologized later. But where did that temper come from? Why had he suddenly grown angry?

And Anya—what was wrong with her lately? What could Aijia do to make her feel less awkward?

Had she truly changed?

Or perhaps, when she needed them most, she had made some small adjustment. Now that things were turning for the better, she had reverted to old habits?

Just as she reached the ground floor, a Bodega Weilong pulled up, bearing license plates from the capital.

The window rolled down, and a man with a touch of weariness, sporting stubble, leaned out with a gentle smile and impeccable demeanor. “Aijia, what’s wrong? Are you unhappy?” he asked.

Aijia froze. She wanted to feel joy, but it wouldn’t come.

She stood there, dazed for several seconds before stammering, “Why—why are you here?”

He smiled, even more amiable. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“No, I mean—I thought you were coming to Jiangzhou tomorrow?” Aijia grew flustered, anxious lest anyone see this scene.

What if someone returned and caught them?

He chuckled softly, “I wasn’t feeling well, so I wanted to see you sooner. Actually, I was already on the highway when I called. Get in—I just visited the Eiffel Café, the ambiance is nice.”

Aijia hesitated, scanning her surroundings for any sign of those two figures.

With a sigh of resignation, she opened the rear door and slipped inside.

Perhaps it was best to clarify things now. She was no longer the naive girl she once was—many things weren’t hers to choose anymore. What must be done, must be done.

The company’s sudden upheaval had left her utterly exhausted, unable to consider anything beyond the immediate crisis.

Yang was elusive as a ghost, unpredictable and impossible to guard against. No one knew what he’d do next. Someone like him, the company couldn’t do without—and neither could she.

Her companion seemed startled by Aijia’s guarded demeanor, then smiled wryly at himself. “Seems I really shouldn’t have come to you now. You’ve grown so distant.”

Once, Aijia would have rushed to explain: this was the entrance to her company, and as the boss, she had to mind her reputation.

This time, she said nothing.

He felt his heart skip—a sudden realization that Aijia was no longer one he could control?

A shadow flickered across his face, but he shook it off, regaining composure and confidence.

What was his, none could escape.

Aijia tried calling twice more, but their phones remained off.

They had truly decided to leave.

The world spun faintly around her. Thinking of the trashed mess that was Vice President Su’s office, she wondered what tomorrow would bring.

Wang Hu, pushed to the brink, now demanded the three hundred million openly. He was mad, yet frighteningly lucid.

At this moment, if the company didn’t provide that sum, Wang Hu would threaten its very existence. He was using the company’s survival as leverage—the money meant survival; without it, the company would cease to exist.

Where could she find another Yang? He was one of a kind.

The Eiffel Café retained its elegance, and few customers dined there.

The waiter recognized Aijia, and since the owner wasn’t present, quickly summoned the new manager to escort her to her usual spot, awaiting their order. She was remembered here.

Her companion smiled, “I wonder if the coffee here is authentic. I recall there’s an Eiffel Café in Paris, and you loved their coffee and cakes. I wonder if this place offers the same.”

Seeing Aijia lost in thought, he smiled again.

When one’s mind is in turmoil, it’s easy to slip into memories. Aijia’s past, especially in such refined surroundings, always came flooding back.

“I remember you didn’t like—” he began, switching to fluent French.

Suddenly recalling her last meal at the Eiffel Café, Aijia felt inexplicably irritable and frowned. “Please, speak Mandarin, will you?”

So she no longer needed French to assert her status?

He smiled helplessly, indulgent. “Of course, whatever you say. Then, I’ll order to your taste…”

“No coffee. Just two steaks, and a glass of ice water. Thank you.” Her frustration mounted, understanding now his constant references to the past were some kind of ploy. She was annoyed, unwilling to revisit those messy so-called beautiful memories.

She added, with biting sarcasm, “That so-called romance back then—wasn’t it all orchestrated by you for others? Now you bring it up, is it to upset me, or to have me reenact it with you? Senior Zhang, I don’t want to reminisce about my youthful ignorance. I just want to eat. I’m starving, alright?”

The awkwardness was palpable.

He was caught off guard, stunned for a moment, then nodded quietly. “Alright. I think I can guess why you’re so… upset. May I?”

Aijia said nothing, her gaze falling on a young waitress whose eyes were red as she was led by a supervisor toward a table of four.

Everyone had troubles, it seemed.

Aijia felt a pang of empathy.

Her companion glanced over, seeing the young woman stifling tears, and chuckled. “I find such waiters unbearable. If you’re not suited to serve in a refined restaurant, don’t come. Look—another clumsy mistake.”

Once, Aijia would have agreed wholeheartedly.

She had always believed in strict social divisions.

But today, she was not the same as before. She empathized with the girl, young and bullied, much like herself.

“She’s just a newcomer. She needs time,” Aijia said, almost rising to intervene.

He quickly stopped her. “Don’t be foolish. Didn’t you see the tattoos on those customers’ wrists? People like us shouldn’t provoke trouble over trivialities. Leave it be. That’s how society is here—no money, no power, and you’re bound to be bullied. It’s inevitable. You can’t change it.”

Aijia’s eyes suddenly widened. So this was who he truly was?