Night Rose

Wu Ting was very well-mannered and did not express any disdain for his fifty-dollar T-shirt.

The shop assistant stared intently at Zhou Zheng's clothes. From a distance, the handsome guy looked like he was wearing a designer brand, but upon closer inspection, it turned out that the clothes had been washed too many times and were pilling in some places.

A fifty-yuan short-sleeved shirt, and she comes to their store to buy a suit? Are these two people just there to amuse her?

But Wu Ting's clothes looked like high-end items, so the shop assistant decided to subtly inquire about the couple's budget.

The shop assistant, feigning ingratiation, followed Wu Ting's searching gaze and asked in a high-pitched voice, "Sir, you have excellent taste! This is the best shop in town; I guarantee you won't find anything better here."

"A frog in a well." Wu Ting didn't look at the shop assistant, but just snorted.

"Huh?" The shop assistant was dumbfounded.

Zhou Zheng chuckled, "He said you have terrible taste, that he doesn't even like the clothes you have here. If it weren't for the emergency, he wouldn't have come to your store at all. Don't worry about what he says, he's just a shopper."

The shop assistant's lips trembled, and she couldn't utter a word for a long time. She was so angry that she left the shop and asked a colleague to take over.

"That's too emotional. I'm not targeting him, I'm just stating the facts," Wu Ting said.

My colleague was drenched in sweat and didn't dare to respond, only nodding.

Zhou Zheng casually flipped through a row of shirts, not noticing any differences or distinctions.

"Alright, let them off the hook. Every working person has it tough. They're just earning a wage to sell goods; they don't need your valuable opinion."

"Give these two to him to try," Wu Ting casually pointed to two items.

Before the poor worker could even figure out what he was referring to, Wu Ting turned to look at something else.

Zhou Zheng didn't make things difficult for the shop assistant and took two sets of clothes into the changing room himself.

He already had a lot on his mind with nowhere to vent, and when he tried on a shirt that was the wrong size, he ended up tearing it.

He didn't care, took it out and threw it on the sofa, "I'll have him settle the bill later."

The shop assistant, feeling extremely cautious, handed him a shirt that was a size too big.

When Zhou Zheng came out after changing his clothes, the shop assistants couldn't help but take a second look.

He looks so handsome! This dark charcoal gray suit seems tailor-made for him. The black shirt underneath perfectly accentuates his waist and shoulder line, elevating his mature aura to a whole new level.

Zhou Zheng is a clothes hanger; he doesn't look flat in a suit, but rather the tailored cut of the suit accentuates his masculinity.

Zhou Zheng looked at himself in the mirror from left to right, and was barely satisfied. He took a picture and wanted to send it to Su Jin, but he was afraid she would ask too many questions, so he had to save it for later.

Wu Ting stood not far away, scrutinizing his outfit. "Not as good as the custom-made one, but it's passable. Try the other one too."

"I'm not trying it on." Zhou Zheng adjusted his cufflinks, then looked up at Wu Ting. "Hey, that mean-spirited guy, pay the bill, put that shirt on the tab too."

Wu Ting didn't argue with him, walked over and swiped her card, "Take the other set, make sure it's the right size."

"Okay, sir! That'll be five thousand six hundred dollars in total," the clerk whispered.

Wu Ting said calmly, "It's only a little over five thousand yuan, just wear it once, young master."

The shop assistant didn't dare to say anything and quickly packed another set of black suits for them. There were also short-sleeved shirts and trousers that they had just taken off in the changing room. The shop assistant was unsure what to do.

"Sir, would you like to throw away the clothes you took off, or...?"

"Of course I'll take it. Fifty yuan is my money, and five thousand yuan is his money." Zhou Zheng took the paper bag from her hand and threw his clothes inside.

The once neatly arranged paper bag suddenly bulged out, losing its aesthetic appeal.

"Finished paying the bill? Nothing else to do, right?" Zhou Zheng walked towards Wu Ting with the paper bag in hand, then suddenly tossed it to him.

Wu Ting didn't react at first, until the paper bag hit him and he cried out in pain before he reached out to catch it.

"That's all..."

"Then let's hurry up and go, why are you making so many rules?" Zhou Zheng, wearing a suit, walked ahead.

He walked with a leisurely yet graceful demeanor.

With a buzz cut, a new suit, and Cheng Liang's leather shoes, his demeanor was completely different from those around him.

While others look like insurance salesmen in suits, he exudes CEO aura, strolling leisurely through high-end shopping malls and casually signing orders worth hundreds of millions.

Wu Ting had to admit that Zhou Zheng's temperament was far superior to that of the pampered second young master in the family. No wonder President Zhou insisted on recognizing him despite his wife's objections.

Even if it means slapping myself in the face, even if I've been turned away many times by my eldest son.

He also had to admit that Zhou Zheng was the good son who inherited his excellent genes.

While Wu Ting was still lost in his fantasy about the young CEO, he heard the man say, "Hey you, I'm hungry, go buy a jianbing guozi."

……

The filter shattered on the ground.

Wu Ting shook his head firmly and advised him, "Jianbing guozi has a strong smell and there's a risk of it getting oily."

"Well, I'm hungry anyway," Zhou Zheng said, ignoring the fact that he was hungry.

Wu Ting and he stood there in a stalemate for a while. People around them looked at the two men in thick suits in the middle of summer with curiosity and whispered that they were there to do something.

Under everyone's gaze, Wu Ting finally gave in and bought him a jianbing guozi (Chinese crepe).

On the way back, the Bentley was filled with the aroma of jianbing guozi (Chinese crepes) and the sound of Zhou Zheng chewing loudly.

"Secretary Wu, there's a smell in the car. What are we going to say if the boss asks?" The driver wiped away his cold sweat.

These big shots don't care about anything and dare to eat anything. What will happen to him if he lives or dies?

This was the first time the driver had ever seen someone dare to eat jianbing guozi (a type of Chinese crepe) in the boss's car.

The jianbing guozi in Bentley's hand was so surreal, it was as if he had wandered onto the wrong movie set.

But the man sitting behind him had the look of a big boss in him, and the driver probably realized who he was.

"The car has been sent for cleaning. I'll explain to Mr. Zhou, Uncle Song, don't worry," Wu Ting said.

Uncle Song finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove the car safely into the villa area.

Zhou Ruian still lived in the villa area he had bought before. As the car drove forward, Zhou Zheng saw the familiar house appear and felt a nameless pain welling up in his heart.

That was a villa that Zhou Ruian and his mother bought together, and the house was registered in his mother's name.

Zhou Ruian still occasionally comes back to stay here, just to have a good excuse to remember his deceased wife.

The green environment here is famously good; there are no annoying cicadas chirping in the middle of summer. Whenever there are cicadas chirping, the property management has taken them away.

Zhou Zheng's heart grew colder and colder as he stared intently at the open door.

His mother used to stand there waiting for him to come home from school. She liked to wear a silk dress, with her hair in a loose side braid, and gently call his name.

"Xiao Zheng, what did you learn at school today?"

"After dinner, how about Mom takes you to horseback riding lessons? Or what do you want to learn? You can tell Mom, and Mom will hire a teacher for you."

"You like racing? Great! Mommy will take you go-karting, and when you're older, we'll go racing, okay?"

"Little Zheng, grow up quickly and don't be a picky eater!"

"Xiao Zheng..."

A man's authoritative call overlapped with the call Zhou Zheng had imagined.

He looked up and met the man's gaze; his eyes were filled with nothing but hatred.