Ch.4 Is the conversation a bit too much

Chapter 4

The moment she sent the message, Sang Lu regretted it.

Was she being too chatty?

Although he’d said he didn’t mind her talkativeness, still… it wasn’t great to reveal her chatterbox tendencies right after deciding to get along better.

Cold indifference was detestable, but excessive enthusiasm could be just as unbearable.

Sang Lu spent a few seconds reflecting on this.

On the other end of the phone,

a man with sharp, cold features stared at his screen,

also lost in thought for a long while.

Only after some time did he finally type a reply.

Downstairs, the real estate division had just finished their presentation. Seeing that the CEO hadn’t dismissed them, no one dared to move.

And so, the entire room held their breath, not daring to make a sound.

……

Sang Lu had acted on impulse, not holding much hope.

When she saw Feng Yan’s reply, her eyes dimmed slightly.

【Feng: Working late today.】

Well then.

Rejected.

In the next instant, she adjusted her mindset.

No big deal. After all, he was the "Ice Block Guy"—it’d be weird if he were easy to get along with.

As long as she planted the seed in his mind that she was cheerful and easygoing, that was enough. As for dinner, of course, it’d be more fun to go with colleagues!

They could even go shopping afterward.

Nice!

Having just reflected on her chatterbox tendencies,

this time, Sang Lu decided to end the conversation on her side.

She wouldn’t reply further,

lest Ice Block Guy couldn’t handle her "enthusiasm overload."

Thinking this, she felt touched by her own consideration.

She was just too thoughtful, wasn’t she?

……

Feng Yan stared at the chat window, waiting for a while.

No new messages appeared.

He lowered his gaze and turned off his phone,

then tilted his chin toward Fang Assistant.

Having worked by Feng Yan’s side for years, Fang Assistant could—without exaggeration—score full marks if there were a subject called "Deciphering Feng Yan’s Microexpressions."

For example, right now, Feng Yan’s gesture meant: dismiss the real estate team.

As the crowd dispersed,

Fang Assistant followed Feng Yan into the private elevator back to the top floor.

When the elevator doors dinged open, he noticed Feng Yan checking his phone again.

A few seconds later, it was pocketed once more.

Even Feng Yan himself didn’t realize it,

but his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

It was the frustration of a man accustomed to controlling everything,

now unsettled by an unexpected miscalculation.

Fang Assistant, ever observant, immediately sharpened his focus.

He scanned the surroundings,

trying to pinpoint what had triggered his boss’s frown.

Suddenly, a cloyingly sweet fragrance invaded his nostrils.

Feng Yan hated strong scents—his office and car were always fragrance-free. Who had the audacity to wear such overpowering perfume?

Following the scent, Fang Assistant glared in its direction.

Near the secretary’s office, a female employee was staring at Feng Yan’s retreating figure. When she met Fang Assistant’s gaze, she quickly looked away, flustered.

Before leaving for the day, Fang Assistant paid a visit to the secretary’s department.

He issued a stern reminder:

"The secretary’s office is on the same floor as the CEO’s for efficiency, not for you to gawk at the boss. Focus on your own work."

"And from now on, refrain from wearing perfume. The CEO dislikes strong odors in the workplace."

The staff exchanged glances,

until their eyes eventually settled on Guan Shiqing in the corner.

Guan Shiqing lowered her head in embarrassment.

……

That afternoon, Sang Lu had asked around, but as luck would have it, all her colleagues had weekend plans.

In the end, she headed to the barbecue restaurant alone after work.

She loved lively gatherings, surrounded by friends.

But even solo, she knew how to enjoy herself.

As an assistant director, she was used to irregular hours and often ate alone.

The restaurant was busy during dinner hours. Sang Lu found a small table.

Just as she sat down, someone called out to her.

"Oh, Sang Lu? You’re eating barbecue alone?"

Turning, she saw her cousin Zhuang Xiao clinging to a man’s arm, walking toward her with exaggerated excitement.

Sang Lu’s heart sank.

Oh no.

She couldn’t stand this distant cousin. Unfortunately, Zhuang Xiao’s family lived in the same neighborhood as her parents and frequently dropped by uninvited, claiming it was "keeping family ties strong"—but really, they were just freeloading meals.

During the New Year holiday, Sang Lu’s mom had mentioned that Zhuang Xiao had a new boyfriend.

This must be him—a man in his forties with a receding hairline.

"What a coincidence! Let’s eat together," Zhuang Xiao said, plopping into the seat across from her before Sang Lu could respond.

Sang Lu: ?

Excuse you?

The balding man sat down without hesitation.

Zhuang Xiao, the same age as Sang Lu at twenty-five, had always treated her as a rival—flaunting new Barbie dolls as kids, then jobs and relationships as adults.

Sang Lu had repeatedly warned her parents not to discuss her life in front of Zhuang Xiao’s family to avoid unnecessary drama.

So Zhuang Xiao had no idea Sang Lu had gotten married three months ago.

Sang Lu nearly rolled her eyes into the back of her skull.

But the couple was too busy cooing over the menu to notice.

Knowing how persistent Zhuang Xiao could be, Sang Lu decided to treat this as an unwanted shared table. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could leave.

After ordering, Zhuang Xiao suddenly gasped dramatically, as if making a grand discovery.

"Oh my, Sang Lu! You’re still carrying that little crossbody bag?"

Sang Lu glanced at her bag. "…?"

"You’ve had this since college, right? Never upgraded?"

Zhuang Xiao twisted to show off her own bag.

"Pretty, isn’t it? MiUmiU. My baby insisted on buying it for me during our Italy trip. I kept saying no, but he just wouldn’t listen—said his six-figure salary meant he had to spoil me."

She shot her boyfriend a saccharine smile, then added:

"Oh, speaking of Italy, you’ve never been abroad, have you, Sang Lu? You really should travel more. It broadens your horizons."

Sang Lu: "…"

Here we go.

The classic Zhuang Xiao performance had begun.

The waiter brought the grill and ingredients, starting to cook for them.

Zhuang Xiao leaned into her boyfriend, whining:

"Darling, I can’t eat this much. You’ve already been feeding me too well—I’ve gained so much weight! Just give me a tiny portion, okay?"

She then turned to Sang Lu with faux envy.

"Sang Lu, you’re still the same—such a big appetite. Must be nice not having a boyfriend to impress with your figure."

Sang Lu suppressed a shudder.

She regretted looking up.

That single glance would haunt her forever.

She grabbed a piece of meat, ignoring how hot it was, and ate faster.

"Fast metabolism," she muttered.

Zhuang Xiao, oblivious to her irritation, prattled on about her boyfriend’s success and devotion.

Sang Lu tuned her out.

Every word she spared would prolong this torture.

Honestly, Sang Lu had to admire two things about her cousin:

First, her ability to call a middle-aged man "baby" with a straight face.

Second, her mastery of performative eating—every bite accompanied by a dozen unnecessary gestures, flashing her rings and bracelets.

The meal dragged on, each second an eternity.

Finally, as the last plate of vegetables finished grilling, Zhuang Xiao nudged her boyfriend.

"Baby, you go ahead and pay the bill. You know my cousin doesn’t earn much—being a TV producer is exhausting and the pay isn’t great. Let’s cover it."

"No, I’ll pay my share," Sang Lu quickly insisted.

She couldn’t owe her cousin even a penny’s worth of favor.

Otherwise, it would inevitably become gossip at family gatherings, blown out of proportion as if she’d taken some huge advantage.

Sang Lu swiftly calculated the cost and sent a WeChat transfer for a third of the meal.

She didn’t notice…

At that moment, a young man seated across the aisle of the barbecue restaurant had been watching her intently.

Only when the door closed did he finally look away.

"Feng Yi, what’s got your attention?"

A companion called out to the young man.

Feng Yi raised an eyebrow impatiently.

"Nothing. Just someone I know."

"Who? Why didn’t you say hello?"

"My sister-in-law. We’re not close."

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