Little Duan happily walked away with two art exhibition tickets in hand.
In the break room, the chatter among colleagues continued.
Unnoticed, the topic had subtly shifted to yesterday's investment conference.
"Did you see him yesterday? Feng Yan, the CEO of Feng Corporation—I caught a few glimpses, and wow, he's so handsome!"
"I saw him too! His profile is unreal—that nose is so sharp, he must be—"
"Ahem! Don't get carried away. I heard Director Wang mention that President Feng is married."
"Oh, come on, it's just appreciation. President Feng is drop-dead gorgeous, but he seems a bit cold and arrogant, like he’d be hard to approach."
"Speaking of which, I’d love to know what his wife is like. Seeing that face every day—she probably wakes up laughing in her sleep, huh?"
"Wait, let’s clarify—is it laughing in her sleep? Or is it—"
A colleague paused meaningfully,
"—doing something else that makes her laugh?"
"If we’re talking about this, count me in!"
All five colleagues were women, three of them married.
Their conversations were never restrained, and now they grew even bolder:
"It’s such a shame President Feng is mute. The heavens can be so cruel."
"True, but imagine—during that, if he doesn’t speak, just muffled groans… wouldn’t that be even hotter?"
"Hah, you’ve got a point there."
"Way more tantalizing."
"You get it."
Sang Lu, who had been sipping her coffee, suddenly choked and burst into a fit of coughing.
Her ears turned bright red.
"Hey, Sang Lu, you okay?"
She lowered her head and waved dismissively.
"I’m fine, I’m fine. You guys keep talking—I’ll head out first."
"Hah, Sang Lu’s blushing," a colleague teased. "She’s still newlywed and shy. Give her a few years, and she’ll loosen up enough to join our discussions."
With burning ears, Sang Lu hurried out of the break room.
Her mind was still replaying her colleagues’ words.
Against her will, her imagination wandered for a few seconds…
She wanted to pour dish soap straight into her brain to scrub the thoughts away.
Just then, her phone buzzed.
A message from the very man they’d been speculating about—the one whose muffled groans might be "hot."
[Feng: Doctor Ji is coming next Saturday.]
...
At the top floor of Feng Corporation, Feng Yan had just wrapped up an afternoon of meetings.
A trace of lingering coolness lingered between his brows as he stepped out of the elevator and headed to his office.
His message had barely been sent when Sang Lu replied.
A cute sticker popped up on his screen—a cartoon puppy holding up a wooden sign that read "Ok."
[Sang Lu: Got it~]
"President Feng."
Assistant Fang’s voice suddenly came from behind.
"The proposal for the Z1 land project has been sent to… your email."
The abrupt interruption made Feng Yan’s fingers slip slightly, accidentally tapping the screen.
And with that one tap…
A "pat" notification appeared in the chat.
Feng Yan froze.
For a fleeting moment, a hint of bewilderment flickered in his dark, sharp eyes.
This was the first time he’d accidentally triggered the "pat" function.
And the first time he’d realized someone would actually customize a message for it.
His brow furrowed.
On the screen, the words glared back at him:
[You patted Sang Lu’s skull and said: Hey, pretty solid~]
...
Sang Lu blinked.
One second, they were seriously discussing Doctor Ji’s visit—now, the mood had taken a bizarre turn.
Her screen displayed:
["Feng" patted my skull and said: Hey, pretty solid~]
After a few seconds of silence, she suddenly relaxed.
Maybe… this was just his way of being playful?
She didn’t understand why Feng Yan had suddenly done this, but she never liked to kill the mood. So she patted him back.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Several times in a row.
As expected, Feng Yan hadn’t set any custom message.
On the other end of the phone, Feng Yan had been typing "It was an accident."
But before he could send it, a rapid series of notifications flooded in.
["Sang Lu" patted you.]
["Sang Lu" patted you.]
["Sang Lu" patted you.]
Feng Yan: "…"
A faint, almost imperceptible resignation flickered in his dark, impassive eyes.
This was a form of communication he’d never encountered in his twenty-seven years of life.
For the first time, he felt… at a loss for how to respond.
After a brief silence, he inexplicably deleted the unsent "It was an accident."
Yile Residential Complex.
Unit 3.
"Mom, remember that ultra-luxury car we saw in the neighborhood the other day?"
Zhuang Xiao stormed into the house, throwing her bag onto the floor with a loud thud as she shouted inside.
Zhuang’s Mother poked her head out from the kitchen.
"What car? The white one?"
Zhuang Xiao crossed her arms on the couch, her face twisted in fury as she spat through gritted teeth:
"Yes. You weren’t mistaken. It was Sang Lu. The person in that car was definitely Sang Lu."
Ever since spotting the luxury car in the neighborhood, Zhuang Xiao hadn’t slept well for days.
The more she thought about it, the more it gnawed at her.
Since when did their shabby complex have a car like that? And she hadn’t even known?
What really grated on her was that the person inside had looked exactly like Sang Lu.
Then, from Zhuang’s Father, she learned that Sang Lu had left just before they returned that day.
The timing matched perfectly.
Something wasn’t right.
Before coming upstairs, she’d stopped by the security office.
Using the excuse of a lost pet cat, she checked the surveillance footage.
When the footage played, Zhuang Xiao’s eyes nearly bulged out of her skull.
There, in the video, was Sang Lu—glancing around furtively before quickly slipping into the car.
"You said Sang Lu still rides an e-scooter, didn’t you? Did she buy a car?" Zhuang’s Mother asked, puzzled.
"Pfft!" Zhuang Xiao scoffed. "She couldn’t afford one wheel of that car even if she sold herself. Who knows what shady deal she struck? Maybe she hooked up with some rich—"
She cut herself off mid-sentence.
A thought struck her.
If that car was a globally limited-edition luxury model, there might be gossip online about its owner.
The wealthy circles in the city weren’t that vast—someone must have talked about it.
Zhuang Xiao immediately began frantically searching.
Within minutes, she bolted upright, her hands trembling as she clutched her phone.
Her eyes were glued to the screen as she muttered in disbelief:
"No way…"
Zhuang’s Mother leaned in. "What is it?"
Zhuang Xiao’s face paled. "The owner of that car… seems to be surnamed… Feng."
"Feng? Who’s that?"
Zhuang Xiao’s voice dropped to a whisper. "The Feng family. The elite of the elite. Feng Corporation’s Feng family!"
