Transmigrated into the body of a tycoon's spoiled ex-girlfriend

Rong She leaned back in his chair, feeling like he was going a little crazy.

Instead of sleeping late at night, they suddenly called a meeting of management to discuss such unrealistic topics, and the key point is that he actually started to believe it.

But he had to do something; passively taking a beating wasn't his style.

He looked up at Fang Xu, who was a few years older than him. Fang Xu's eyes reflected tension and a long-suppressed eagerness.

That fervor wasn't feigned; it was an emotion that had been suppressed for many years and was finally being seen.

Rong She finally made a decision: "Go back and refine this plan, make a complete project application, and then send it to Secretary Yuan."

Fang Xu paused for a moment, then nodded vigorously, grinning like a college student who had just received his university acceptance letter.

Afterwards, Rong She took out his phone and dialed the number of the chairman of the investment committee.

I answered the phone after it rang twice.

"For Fang Xu's project, I will submit the application in my personal name without using Nebula's budget. Secretary Yuan can just submit it and get it stamped directly."

The person on the other end of the phone seemed surprised: "President Rong, I reviewed this project when it was first drafted, and the risks..."

"I've already made up my mind about this. Just do as I say."

Of course, this project is not so easy to implement.

At the Nebula headquarters meeting the following day, the project was rejected by everyone.

Before the project application materials were even ready, the investment committee issued a letter of opposition.

All the shareholders are saying that Nebula Biotechnology's research and development direction should be gene editing and anti-aging drugs, not this kind of mystical stuff.

Rong Liao called directly: "Rong She, are you crazy?"

"I'm not crazy," Rong She said calmly.

"Do you know how risky this project is? Nebula Biotechnology invests tens of billions in R&D every year; we're not letting you throw that money down the drain!"

"Dad, I'll take the risks myself and won't spend a single penny of Nebula's money."

Rong Liao laughed in anger, and finally warned, "Rong She, you'd better actually do something, or I won't be able to protect you at the shareholders' meeting!"

-

The capital city is much colder than Lingzhou.

Even though it's only the beginning of winter, the wind here feels like knives cutting my face, it hurts so much.

Fortunately, the equestrian competition was held in an indoor venue. When Ke Miantang came out of the venue after training, it was already dark, and the wind, carrying a dry and cold chill, was blowing into her collar from all directions.

I wrapped myself tightly in my creamy white down jacket, and even with the scarf wrapped around my neck three times, I still felt cold.

As Ke Miantang walked towards the hotel, she answered the phone. Xiao Manshu kept asking her questions on the other end of the line: How are you doing over there? Are you eating well? Are you sleeping well? Are you wearing enough clothes?

Ke Miantang answered each question, his breath dispersing into wisps of mist in the cold wind.

"That's enough, Mom, I'm wearing two sweaters." Her scarf was blown askew by the wind, and she couldn't fix it with her hands, so she could only press it down with her chin.

After hanging up the phone, she returned to her room.

She changed out of her down jacket and sat on the sofa, but her feet just wouldn't warm up.

She's always like this in winter; her hands and feet are always freezing, and no matter how many socks she wears, it doesn't help.

She had previously consulted a traditional Chinese medicine doctor in the real world. The doctor said she had insufficient qi and blood and prescribed several doses of medicine, which she drank for half a year, but there was no improvement, so she gave up.

She tucked her feet into the sofa, her two bare feet together, then took a picture and sent it to Rong She with only one sentence in the caption: "My feet are so cold."

She sent it and waited a few seconds, but there was no immediate reply.

He might be busy, or he might not have seen it.

She tossed her phone onto the sofa and was just about to get a glass of water when the screen lit up.

Rong She's message: "Open the door, bring warmth."

Ke Miantang stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

"Host, Rong She is indeed at the door."

She sprang up from the sofa, stepped barefoot onto the carpet, and ran to open the door.

Rong She stood at the door, his black coat with its shoulders straight and crisp, wearing only a thin black turtleneck underneath. His long legs were encased in dark trousers, the hems of which just touched his shoes.

His suitcase was at his feet, and his shoulders were still damp with the chill brought in from outside.

The wind was too strong today, and his black hair was blown into disarray. His bangs fell down, covering half of his brow bone, revealing a pair of peach blossom eyes, the corners of which were slightly red from the wind.

"Rong She".

Ke Miantang called his name, probably because the indoor heating was too strong and her eyes were a little dry.

Her body acted before her brain could; she threw herself into his arms and climbed onto him.

Rong She was pulled back half a step by her momentum, and the suitcase wheel rolled dully on the carpet.

The next second his hand was on her hip, one hand firmly holding her buttocks, the other hand carrying the suitcase steadily into the room.

"The competition is tomorrow," she said in a soft, almost cloying voice, tilting her head up to kiss his chin, her lips trailing behind him. "I thought you weren't coming."

He tilted his head slightly to avoid it, but didn't actually dodge, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly: "How could I? I promised my darling, I wouldn't dare go back on my word."

When they put her on the sofa, Ke Miantang still wouldn't let go.

He simply sat down, taking advantage of the force of her arms around his neck, and let her straddle his lap.

The hotel sofa was very soft; when two people pressed down on it, it created an ambiguous curve.

Ke Miantang cupped his face in her hands.

His bone structure was so beautiful; she pressed her palm against his slightly cool jawline and kissed him earnestly.

First, her gaze lingered on his brow, then his bridge of the nose, and finally his left eyelid. His eyes were half-closed, and his eyelashes trembled gently beneath her lips.

She kissed his right eyelid again, and finally landed on the corner of his lips, gently biting it.

Throughout the entire process, Rong She just stared at her.

His peach blossom eyes drooped slightly, and the light in his eyes was dark and dangerous.

His hand rested on her waist, the veins on the back of his hand slightly bulging, hinting at a kind of restrained forbearance.

When she had finished kissing him, she tilted her head slightly to kiss the other cheek.

Rong She's hand suddenly tightened.

The world spun around.

Ke Miantang was pressed down on the sofa, the back of her head sinking into the cushion.

Rong She leaned closer, one hand supporting her ear, the other holding her chin, his thumb pressing against her lower lip, gently pushing it down.

When he lowered his head to kiss me, all my restraint shattered.

It wasn't the gentle, delicate pecking kiss she had given earlier; instead, her tongue pried open her lips and teeth, hooking and entwining with her, and the kiss became heavy.

When he finally loosened his grip, the air between them became sticky and scalding.

He pressed his forehead against hers, his voice low and husky: "Do you miss your husband?"

Ke Miantang's heart skipped a beat. She turned her head away, reached out and pinched his cheek, deforming his cold and aloof face: "I told you not to shout like that."

Rong She wasn't annoyed. He tilted his head to the side, rubbed his cheek against her palm, and gave a half-smile.

"That's outrageous," he said slowly. "They've already taken the money, and now they're denying it."

Ke Miantang's heart was pounding so hard it hurt. She buried her face in his chest and nuzzled him with her head.

Like a timid little quail.

Rong She chuckled softly as he was nudged, then lazily pulled the person into his arms.