The pushover offended a top-tier boss

The news spread faster than a virus.

That evening, Vice President Liu Jian personally called her:

"Xiao Ye, I heard you were singled out by Secretary Zhou today? What happened?"

Ye Zhenzhen was at a loss for words: "Dean Liu, I just... I was just called on to answer a question..."

"I couldn't answer that, and my supervisor asked me to compile the city's graduate employment data..."

Liu Jian was also somewhat confused. He didn't know if Ye Zhenzhen had offended the leader, or if the leader had ulterior motives.

He didn't criticize her for the time being, but only told her to do a good job.

Ye Zhenzhen was slightly dead.

She was responsible for collecting data from dozens of universities all by herself.

They didn't say how to submit it after I finished.

She didn't have his WeChat, his phone number, or even his secretary's contact information.

How exactly do I pay?

Or was he doing it on purpose?

Did you deliberately embarrass her?

Is she going to be punished again?

Ye Zhenzhen started to feel anxious again.

This anxiety lasted for three days.

For three days, she worked overtime after get off work every day to organize data, checking each table one by one and comparing each number one by one. Her eyes were tired, her fingers ached from typing on the keyboard, and she even dreamed about making spreadsheets.

Fortunately, three days passed and things calmed down.

She comforted herself: no news is good news. That's such a high-ranking leader, so busy with countless affairs, how could he have time to worry about a mere counselor like her?

Being anxious in advance is like taking out a loan and ending up with nothing.

She decided to stop thinking about it.

Meanwhile, at a private club.

The lights in the private room were adjusted to the perfect level. A faint scent of sandalwood wafted in the air, mingling with the white steam rising from the teacups.

Zhou Huaijin sat in the main seat, his black shirt impeccably tailored.

Several business leaders sat on either side of him, taking turns reporting on the progress of urban construction projects. He listened, occasionally nodding, occasionally asking a question, his voice neither too loud nor too soft, yet it made the speakers unconsciously straighten their backs even more.

Zhang Wei, chairman of Tiansheng Group, sat to his right. He was in his forties and had a big smile on his face.

"Sir, knowing you don't drink alcohol, I specially prepared tea for you," he said solicitously, picking up the teapot and pouring a cup with both hands. The tea was golden and clear. "You work tirelessly day and night for the people's livelihood. This tea is a specialty of Changbai Mountain, brewed for several hours. It's good for strengthening your body and improving your health..."

Zhou Huaijin picked up his teacup and took a sip.

The tea was excellent, sweet and mellow with an indescribable medicinal aroma. He didn't speak, but placed the teacup back on the table and gently twirled his finger along the rim.

Zhang Wei's gaze remained fixed on his face, and seeing that he did not refuse, the smile on his face deepened.

Halfway through the meal, the door opened.

Several young women filed in, dressed in matching cheongsams with high slits, their makeup exquisite, and their hair meticulously styled. The one at the front carried a pot of tea, a perfectly measured smile on her face, but her eyes were fixed on the person in the head seat.

The air in the private room suddenly smelled different.

Zhou Huaijin put down his chopsticks, which made a soft sound as they touched the table.

The girls paused for a moment, their smiles freezing for half a second.

Secretary Lin Rui immediately stood up, his face darkening: "Manager Li, don't you know the rules for the leadership? What are you doing?"

Zhang Wei was stunned for a moment, then hurriedly explained, "No, no, Secretary Lin misunderstood..."

"Sir, I just wanted to have a few ladies keep you company for a cup of tea to liven things up, that's all..."

His voice trailed off as Zhou Huaijin stood up.

The man was tall and had long legs; his mere presence seemed to lower the atmosphere of the entire private room.

He picked up his coat from the back of the chair, his movements unhurried, his gaze sweeping over Zhang Wei.

"Focus your energy on the right things."

A few words, neither too light nor too heavy, made Zhang Wei's face turn a shade pale.

Zhou Huaijin left without looking back.

Lin Rui quickly followed behind.

The black Hongqi drove out of the clubhouse.

The night was thick, and streetlights slid past the car window one after another, casting flickering light and shadow on his face.

Zhou Huaijin leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and raised his hand to rub his temples.

These past few days have been filled with meetings, research trips, and social engagements, with only four or five hours of sleep each night. Even the strongest person couldn't withstand this kind of abuse.

"Boss, we've arrived." Driver Chen Zheng stopped the car.

He opened his eyes, glanced out the window, got out of the car, and went upstairs.

I took off my coat, unbuttoned it, and went into the bathroom.

When the hot water was poured down, he stood under the showerhead, closed his eyes, and let the water flow over his shoulders and neck.

After he finished showering, he stood by the window in a bathrobe, his hair still dripping wet.

Logically speaking, someone this exhausted should just collapse and go to sleep.

But when he lay down on the bed, he turned over and couldn't fall asleep at all.

I feel a bit hot.

It wasn't the kind of heat that comes from extreme exhaustion; it was a kind of inexplicable heat that seemed to seep out from deep within the bones.

He remembered the lousy tea Zhang Wei had mentioned. Strengthening the body and boosting vitality? It probably had some weird stuff added to it.

He has always been abstinent, and although many women have thrown themselves at him over the years, he has never had any interest in them.

Available today.

A figure suddenly popped into my mind.

A red cheongsam, a loose collar, and reddened eyes.

The slender, white skin of my wrist, nestled in my palm, was delicate and cool, like a piece of jade.

And then there was her scent. Not perfume, but a faint, post-shower fragrance, like gardenias mixed with milk.

That day in the lounge, that smell lingered in my nose and wouldn't go away no matter what I did.

He frowned.

I sat up in bed, went to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of ice water, unscrewed the cap, and tilted my head back to gulp down half of it.

The icy water slid down my throat, and the coolness spread.

He stood there for a while to catch his breath.

It's no use. I still feel restless.

The heat didn't come from the outside; it was burning from within. It made him restless and agitated.

He put down the water bottle and went to the restroom again.

He turned on the tap, and cold water splashed on his face. He leaned against the sink, head down, and stood there for a while.

He took a deep breath and took care of it himself.

Afterwards, he drank half a bottle of ice water, leaned back on the sofa, and looked up at the ceiling.

The living room was quiet, with only the clock ticking away.

The sofa was soft, the lighting was dim, and everything was very comfortable.

But that's just how he felt.

In a limbo, neither here nor there.

Not satisfied.

It feels like something is stuck in my throat, I can't swallow it down or spit it out.

Weird.

He sat up and went to the study.

The study light shone a warm white, illuminating the solid wood bookshelves and the large desk. He walked to the bookshelves, his gaze sweeping over the rows of spines, and pulled out a copy of Hegel's "Elements of the Philosophy of Right".

He sat down in the chair and opened the book.

Page 1. Page 2. Page 3.

My gaze fell on the words, but none of them registered in my mind.

He turned back to the first page and read it again.

I still can't get into it.

He threw the book onto the table with a loud "thud" that was particularly loud in the quiet room.

He pulled out a few more documents, including approval reports for urban construction projects, which would be needed at tomorrow's meeting. He picked up a pen, trying to suppress those chaotic thoughts by focusing on work.

Two were approved.

On the footer of the third document, he signed his name as "Ye," but stopped halfway through writing.

Ye Zhenzhen.

The three words jumped clearly into my mind, as if they had grown legs.

He slammed the pen on the table.

I was so angry.

He didn't even know what he was angry about. Was he angry at that lousy cup of tea? Angry at his own lapse in judgment? Or angry at that woman he'd scolded until she cried, the one with impure thoughts who kept popping into his head?

He stood up and took a few steps around the study.

He sat down again.

He stood up again.

Finally, he picked up his phone and dialed Lin Rui's number.

"Lin Rui, look up the information on Ye Zhenzhen, the counselor at the School of Pharmacy, and hand it in to me tomorrow."

Having been in politics for many years, he has seen too many people fall because of lust.

Those once spirited faces have all been reduced to cold words like "improper lifestyle" and "engaging in power-for-sex transactions" in news reports.

Someone with ulterior motives will cultivate girls according to your preferences, create chance encounters, and arrange contact. Once you develop feelings for them, they've got you figured out your weaknesses.

This was a case he had personally handled, and an abyss he had witnessed firsthand.

So over the years, he has kept himself very private. He doesn't attend private banquets, doesn't accept gifts, and even at social occasions, he only drinks tea poured by his own people.

But today, he was indeed restless.

After hanging up the phone, he placed it face down on the table, as if burying some unspeakable thoughts.

Outside the window, the city lights went out one by one. He stood there, motionless for a long time.