Chapter 59: Shifting Targets—Has He Set His Sights on My Trusted Aide?

She said it all in one breath, recalling his words from the other day; her heart still fluttered with unease, and whenever she thought of it, a faint suffocation would settle in her chest.

"Do you like him?" His words were urgent.

She was silent.

"I'm asking you, do you like him?" he pressed again.

She opened her eyes, gazing at the city lights as they flickered, about to be extinguished. It felt as if she were being drawn into the embrace of darkness, and the cold wind seemed to whistly past her in waves, sending a shiver down her spine. In a barely audible voice, she asked, "Can I refuse to answer personal questions?" Then she whispered, "Mr. Mo, you should get some rest. I'm going to hang up now."

Beep, beep, beep—

The busy tone droned on. She stared at her phone, and at the message she hadn’t yet replied to. With a sweep of her hand, Linglan closed the wooden balcony door. She didn't sleep at all that night.

***

Linglan worked tirelessly on the proposal for the exhibition business every day, but Lin Jia was never satisfied, requiring revision after revision. For days, Ye Linglan barely slept. Her relationship with Tang Pei seemed to be growing closer; Linglan knew she couldn’t afford to lose his support. Whenever she encountered problems with the materials, she would seek his advice. Eventually, after work, she simply moved into his office—eating takeout together, working overtime together.

Tang Pei once asked her why she worked so relentlessly, like a machine that never paused, always rushing ahead, always doing more. She paused for a moment, then told him, “Brother Tang, I just want everything I do to be perfect. That way I won’t have regrets in this life.”

A few days later, Mo Zhicheng returned from a banquet and headed straight to ‘Tiancheng’. Passing Tang Pei’s office, he noticed the door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light escaping through the gap. Glancing at his watch, he noted the time, then pushed the door open and walked in. What he saw was Linglan placing food from her own takeout box into Tang Pei’s. Tang Pei turned to look at her, and softly called her name, “Linglan.”

“Hmm?” She smiled lightly.

“On your face,” he gestured.

Linglan immediately understood, giving an awkward smile as she reached up to touch her cheek, but before she could brush it away, Tang Pei leaned in and whispered, “Don’t move.”

She froze, letting him do as he wished. “Thank you!” Her voice was soft, like the gentle ripples that spread across a still pond.

Mo Zhicheng watched, his slightly drunken eyes narrowing, a play of light and shadow flickering within them. He gave a quiet laugh, a playful curve twisting his lips.

He smiled faintly, amusement dancing at the corners of his mouth, but said nothing. Before leaving, he glanced once more at the pair, then turned and walked toward his own office.

Mo Zhicheng switched on his desk lamp, his body sinking into the leather swivel chair. He tore off his tie, and under the stark white light, he stared intently at it. This tie had been slipped into his overcoat pocket by that woman, given to him in silence. He’d worn it to the banquet tonight—not just because it was his favorite brand and style.

Taking his phone from his trouser pocket, he dialed a number and said simply, “Go to Shenghua and take care of something for me.”

Tang Pei’s expression shifted slightly when he received Mo Zhicheng’s call. Linglan looked at him, “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I have to go to Shenghua for something,” Tang Pei collected himself and smiled at her. “What about you? When will you be heading home?”

“I see,” Linglan glanced at her watch thoughtfully, “It’s just eight. I still have a bit to finish on the proposal. You go ahead.”

“It’s not good to go home too late.”

She smiled, “Don’t worry, I’ll catch the last bus.”

“All right, just be careful.” After tidying the files on his desk, Tang Pei left alone.

Linglan was the only one left in the office.