MG CH16

As Fu Weishan’s theoretical “admirer,” this was likely the result Yan Zishu wanted.

However, he still made a symbolic attempt to persuade Ji Chen to stay: “I think you should reconsider, after all, if I may be frank, your family situation doesn’t seem too good. You yourself said before that you couldn’t lose this job—”

These words, predictably, had the opposite effect. Ji Chen seemed insulted: “Don’t worry, I will pay back the money!”

Originally hesitant, he now became determined to leave.

The matter of his resignation reached Fu Weishan’s ears, and Fu Weishan insisted on keeping him: “Don’t refuse impulsively for now. Let’s have a buffer period for you, me, and all of us to consider. Everything is separate. The company will investigate what needs to be investigated, and you also have your final exams coming up. Let’s treat this as a holiday, and you can come back to work in the summer, how does that sound?”

Yes, if Ji Chen were allowed to leave just like that, all previous efforts to pursue him would become sunk costs.

Fu Weishan, of course, wouldn’t let go without even a taste.

Moreover, for a CEO accustomed to flattery and deference, the “rejection,” a truly rare life experience, touched upon his pride and self-esteem—and perhaps this is precisely why clichéd love stories in novels often begin this way.

Since he was only an intern, taking a leave of absence without pay was easy enough, and Ji Chen temporarily avoided the gossip within Yinghan.

The bad news, however, was that he ran into trouble with living expenses—due to a contract error in his previous work, his internship salary for the month was almost entirely withheld, with only a few hundred yuan deposited into his card by finance.

And to make matters worse, after Ji Chen returned to school, the class announced the list for this semester’s scholarships and bursaries. He used to receive financial aid for impoverished students, but found that the slot had been given to another classmate.

Ji Chen was a little incredulous and went to ask his class advisor. The advisor checked and said: “You didn’t submit an application form last semester.”

It was then that Ji Chen remembered a male student asking him if he wanted to submit an application form and offering to help him deliver it. He had then given the filled-out form to that student.

He now vaguely realized that he might have been undermined by that student.

However, that student also denied it, insisting that all application forms had been given to the class committee. When asked, the class committee had no recollection and didn’t remember how many forms had been submitted, making it impossible to verify, and thus it was unclear who had lost it.

Such an incident in class indeed created a bad impression, but the class advisor didn’t want to blow it out of proportion, so he feigned ignorance, saying: “Since this semester’s list is already out, there’s nothing that can be done to change it. You can only submit an application for next semester. Be careful not to lose it again.”

Ji Chen couldn’t very well get into another fight, and so, resigned to his bad luck.

Yan Zishu, seated far away in the high-level CEO’s office at Yinghan Group, was well aware of all these misfortunes befalling Ji Chen.

This was because the people previously tasked with keeping an eye on Yuan Mu were now assigned to monitor Ji Chen’s movements and report back.

The orders these people received remained: “Watch.”

Although they didn’t understand why they had to use all their skills to watch a normal male university student who was good-looking but clumsy, they were paid by the employer, so they just followed instructions.

In fact, Yan Zishu was merely monitoring the plot’s progression in real-time.

However, in his understanding, “poor children learn early,” but it seemed that Ji Chen, uniquely, did not embody this saying.

As the protagonist uke, he always lived in a muddle. If you were to ask if he committed unforgivable mistakes, he actually hadn’t. Yet, perhaps throughout his growth, he was always protected in a glass bubble, like a delicate white flower, lacking the ability to survive in hardship.

Of course, being pitifully vulnerable was also a form of protective coloring, so Ji Chen, in his upbringing, often received preferential treatment from elders, neighbors, and teachers due to his appearance, born out of affection, and hadn’t suffered too greatly.

According to the intelligence gathered, although Ji Chen’s family was not wealthy since childhood and his mother had poor health, she still tried her best to spoil him within her means. For example, even when living expenses were tight, she would still find a way to buy him the Transformers he wanted, or give him all the fish meat and tell him, “Mommy loves fish heads,” which Ji Chen still believes to this day.

Perhaps the original sin of kindness is foolishness.

Unfortunately, even such a dedicated mother couldn’t shield her son from all hardships forever. Especially in recent years, Ji Chen’s mother’s health worsened, making it increasingly difficult for her to support the entire family, requiring Ji Chen to begin stumbling as he faced life’s heavy burdens.

Having temporarily lost his internship, Ji Chen, while reviewing for exams, had to look for other part-time jobs at the work-study center.

However, everyone wanted high-paying jobs, making them very difficult to secure. The only jobs consistently left were low-wage, exhausting manual labor like distributing flyers or wearing mascot costumes, which no one wanted to take.

One day, the student in charge asked in the group: “There’s a temporary banquet hall server job. It’s quite tiring, standing all day. Limited to male students, daily pay. Anyone interested?” and attached the pay standard.

Ji Chen’s heart stirred, and he privately messaged the person in charge to sign up.

He was currently in a tight financial spot, with few good jobs available, and not much room for choice.

Subsequently, some other male students also applied, but after a simple interview, Ji Chen secured the part-time job.

On the day of the banquet, Ji Chen put on his white shirt and black vest uniform, tied a small black bow tie, and, following the training etiquette, carried a tray, moving through the elegantly dressed crowd with his colleagues.

The giant crystal chandeliers, with every glass pendant, refracted dazzling light. On the expensive hand-woven floral carpet, high-end men’s leather shoes and women’s high heels stepped continuously. Men in suits and elegant ladies held wine glasses, chatting animatedly.

He hadn’t expected to run into Fu Weishan here.

Wave after wave of people surrounded Fu Weishan, usually three or four at a time, raising their glasses, conversing, and then being replaced by the next group.

Upon seeing that face with sword-like eyebrows and star-like eyes, Ji Chen’s heart immediately began to pound uncontrollably, and he quickly hid behind a circular pillar.

Fu Weishan’s reason for giving him time off was to prepare for final exams, but he had taken the opportunity to take on another part-time job. It seemed inappropriate if he were discovered.

But Ji Chen couldn’t stay hidden forever. The supervisor thought he was slacking off: “Everyone else is busy off their feet, what are you doing shrinking here? Come on, you’re here to help, not to act like a VIP!”

Ji Chen had no choice but to cautiously step out, trying to keep his back to avoid the area where Fu Weishan was.

However, he couldn’t help but repeatedly steal glances in that direction. Although he wasn’t discovered by Fu Weishan, he made direct eye contact with Yan Zishu.

Ji Chen was so nervous he almost stumbled, instinctively opening his mouth, seemingly wanting to explain.

But the other person was across half the venue from him; there was no way they could hear him.

Yan Zishu quickly turned his head away indifferently, feigning unfamiliarity, as if he had noticed a speck of dust on the window, unworthy of special attention.

Ji Chen bit his lip until the supervisor whispered to him again: “What are you staring blankly for? Didn’t you see the guest over there raising their hand?”

Looking over, the guest raising their hand happened to be among the group talking to Fu Weishan.

Under the supervisor’s urging, Ji Chen shuffled his feet, hesitating whether to brave it and go over.

As he struggled with his decision and turned around, his tray almost collided with a male guest.

Fortunately, no glasses were knocked over. If wine had spilled and stained clothes, the cost would likely be unpayable.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” Without thinking, Ji Chen quickly apologized.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” the guest said courteously. “But, could you do me a favor and come over here?”

Ji Chen felt as if he had been granted a great pardon and looked at his supervisor.

The supervisor, as expected, said: “Alright, give the wine to Xiao Wu, and have him deliver it.”

The guest also took a glass of wine from Ji Chen’s hand, and then watched him hand the tray to his colleague.

It was nearing midsummer. The night outside was steaming with heat, yet the air conditioning inside was so strong that wearing too little would make one’s hands and feet numb.

The guest led Ji Chen to a semi-circular balcony, away from the gaze of the crowd.

Behind them were floor-to-ceiling windows leading indoors, covered by thick curtains, providing a definite sense of security.

Ji Chen looked up, feeling that the other person was very tall, almost a head taller than him. He wore a deep blue Italian suit that was slim-fitting and cinched at the waist, exquisitely tailored with a double-breasted, four-button design, appearing both subtly fashionable and effortlessly elegant.

He opened his mouth hesitantly: “May I ask how I can help you?”

The guest took a sip of sparkling champagne and said nonchalantly: “It’s nothing. I just noticed you seemed troubled. What, did you run into someone you know? Don’t want to be seen?”

This was a very thoughtful guess—people in the service industry, especially newcomers not yet accustomed to their role, sometimes encounter familiar faces, or even rivals with whom they have a history, which can indeed create an awkward feeling of being inferior.

Ji Chen didn’t know how to explain, so he simply tacitly agreed with his statement, though he still felt grateful.

Subsequently, the guest very kindly initiated a conversation with him: “Have you just started working here recently?”

“No, I’m a student at Nanhua University and I’m working part-time here,” Ji Chen shook his head.

“No wonder then. A prodigy from a prestigious school, it’s normal to have a bit of pride.”

“No, no, it’s not related to that.” Ji Chen blushed. “I just… I really did run into someone I know.”

The guest smiled upon hearing this: “You students always stay in an ivory tower, so it’s understandable that your self-esteem might be stronger. But once you enter society, you’ll realize it’s all about making a living; there’s nothing shameful about it. Without this uniform, everyone is the same.”

The same? Ji Chen looked at the glamour inside the banquet hall through a gap in the curtains, a hint of loss lingering in his heart.

Given his background, no matter how hard he tried, he probably couldn’t become one of them.

Forget about Fu Weishan’s exceptional appearance; even Assistant Yan’s elite competence was beyond his reach.

Ji Chen forced a relaxed smile and replied with a popular internet phrase: “Some people are born in Rome, while others are born as oxen and horses. Children from ordinary families like us are the latter; we have to strive at least twenty years more than others.”

The guest, however, said gently and maturely: “Well, you might not believe it, but I, too, was born into the ‘oxen and horses’ category.”