“President Qin.”
“President Qin?”
“President Qin!”
A business associate suddenly called out to Qin Yuhe, three times, before he snapped back to reality.
The associate, President Li, had a voluptuous beauty nestled in his arms and asked, “President Qin, what good thing are you looking at, so absorbed?”
Qin Yuhe’s gaze swept across the photo on his screen—Han Jingyi wiping Song Xinya’s mouth—and replied, “Nothing.”
“You don’t look too good,” President Li teased. “Don’t tell me your wife is sneaking around with another man behind your back?”
Qin Yuhe shot back, “The fact that’s the first thing that came to your mind says a lot about how often your wife has cheated on you.”
President Li was momentarily stunned.
Laughter erupted around them.
President Li’s face turned bright red.
He cleared his throat, trying to save face, and said, “My wife is virtuous and kind, and treats me wonderfully. How could she ever cheat on me? President Qin, that was out of line.”
Qin Yuhe replied dryly, “If your wife is so good to you, and you’re still messing around with other women behind her back, then your conscience has been eaten by dogs.”
President Li’s face grew even redder.
More laughter filled the room.
Someone couldn’t help but tease him.
“President Li, you really are stubborn and too proud for your own good. Why pick a fight with President Qin? Now you’re the one suffering.”
“Everyone here has a beauty by their side, but President Qin is sitting alone. Don’t you get it, President Li? He’s staying loyal to his wife.”
“President Qin and his wife have such a great relationship. How could you be so foolish as to joke about their marriage? No wonder he scolded you.”
Determined not to lose face, President Li shot back, “My wife and I have a great relationship too.”
The group echoed Qin Yuhe’s earlier words: “If your relationship is so good, why are you messing around with other women behind her back? Has your conscience been eaten by dogs?”
President Li fell silent and said nothing more.
Qin Yuhe ignored the others, his gaze fixed on the photo Zhao Yinian had posted as a WeChat Moments status.
He tapped it, and the photo filled his phone screen.
He double-tapped to zoom in.
From the photo’s angle, Qin Yuhe couldn’t see Song Xinya’s expression.
But he could clearly see the man wiping her mouth.
The man had an instantly recognizable face—neither overly soft nor rugged, with flawless features, balanced contours, and a handsome appearance.
The man’s eyes were fixed on his wife’s lips as he pressed the tissue to the corner of her mouth.
Qin Yuhe ran his tongue over his back teeth.
Instead of confronting his wife, he called Zhao Yinian: “Delete the latest photo from your Moments.”
He wasn’t worried about others gossiping about him—he was worried that others might see the photo and point fingers at her.
He was doing everything in his power to limit the impact of any rumors on her.
Zhao Yinian was thrilled to receive Qin Yuhe’s call, her voice dripping with affectation: “President Qin, I was just sharing my daily life casually.”
Qin Yuhe said coldly, “I think you’re asking for trouble.”
His tone was icy, his words ruthless, leaving no room for negotiation.
Zhao Yinian stammered, “President Qin, I’ll delete it right now.”
Qin Yuhe’s voice cut like a knife: “Zhao Yinian, the only reason I haven’t fired you yet is because you once saved my grandmother’s life. But favors don’t last forever. With every reckless move you make, that debt will eventually run out.”
“Stop pulling these petty stunts. They’re stupid, cheap, and laughable. All they prove is that you’re missing a few screws—nothing else.”
Zhao Yinian sounded aggrieved: “President Qin, I really didn’t mean to. I was just focused on myself and didn’t notice that another man was wiping Song Xinya’s mouth in the background.”
Qin Yuhe retorted, “Other people play dumb to gain sympathy, but you’re playing dumb to sell cheap tricks. Is your brain on vacation or just rusted? Thinking everyone else is as clueless as you are? You’re truly an idiot.”
He hung up without ceremony.
A business associate nearby asked, “Who were you scolding just now, President Qin?”
Qin Yuhe replied flatly, “A clueless employee.”
Some rich kid piped up with a tease: “Don’t you all see that President Qin’s in a bad mood? You beauties better seize the chance to cheer him up.”
The room was full of gorgeous women who had long coveted Qin Yuhe.
The men seated in that room were all wealthy and influential, but Qin Yuhe stood out the most.
He was stunningly handsome, too.
Who wouldn’t want to make this untouchable flower kneel before them?
But his icy, standoffish demeanor kept every woman from daring to approach him.
Now, with that rich kid’s provocation, the women’s secret desires to conquer the unattainable surged again.
Among them, the most beautiful one—dressed in a qipao, with captivating eyes, petal-like lips, a slim waist, long legs, and a full, graceful bust—was strikingly gorgeous.
She had been eyeing Qin Yuhe all along, her gaze lingering on his body and face.
Using the opportunity, she picked up a cup of honeysuckle and chrysanthemum tea, walked to the single sofa where Qin Yuhe sat, and knelt on the carpet. Her fair thigh peeked through the slit of her dress. With delicate, jade-like fingers, she offered the tea to him, her voice soft and sweet: “President Qin, please have some tea.”
Qin Yuhe shot her a cold glance. “Why are there so many clueless people around?”
The woman’s confident expression crumpled into embarrassment at the rejection.
Her eyes reddened, and she sniffled, her beautiful face pitifully charming as she said, “President Qin, I just wanted to bring you some tea to make you happy.”
Qin Yuhe replied, “You know I’m a married man, yet you still throw yourself at me. How innocent are you, really?”
Her usual act of playing innocent and pitiful had worked on countless men, but today it failed for the first time.
Realizing Qin Yuhe wasn’t buying it, she set the tea on the table and retreated.
Another man reached out, pulled her into his arms, caressed her, and said, “If President Qin doesn’t appreciate you, President Wang does. Come on, sweetheart, give your Wang big brother a kiss.”
Qin Yuhe tuned it all out, checking Zhao Yinian’s Moments again. The photo was gone.
He swiped across the screen, opened his WeChat step tracker, and saw that Song Xinya’s step count had gone up.
He tapped into the surveillance camera app: the bedroom was empty.
The room was filled with the heavy breathing of men and the soft gasps of women.
Qin Yuhe found the whole scene utterly pointless.
He stood up and walked out of the private room.
His assistant, who had been waiting outside, approached him: “President Qin, is the deal done?”
Qin Yuhe: “No.”
Assistant: “Then why did you come out?”
Qin Yuhe: “Should I stay in there and watch?”
Assistant: “Watch what? Are they watching a war movie in there?”
Qin Yuhe gave him a look and said nothing.
After Qin Yuhe walked off, the driver said to the assistant, “Do you know what that look from President Qin just now meant?”
Assistant: “What look?”
Driver: “The look you give an idiot.”
Assistant: “…”
“Hey, why are you cursing me out of nowhere?”
Driver: “I’m teaching you.”
Assistant: "Teach me how to insult people?"
Driver: "What President Qin meant by 'watching the action' earlier is that there's a live show going on in the private room—men and women going at it, the kind of full-on combat. Get it now?"
If he still didn't understand, he was truly an idiot.
The assistant had been slow on the uptake at first, purely because this went against everything he believed—he found it utterly unbelievable. "With all those people in the room, they just started going at it?"
Driver: "Some men are perverts. The more people watching, the more they get off on it—they find it thrilling."
Assistant clicked his tongue. "These bastards are seriously twisted."
Driver: "You should take some time to get a girlfriend and learn a thing or two about men and women. You’re clueless every time, reacting like a damn fool."
Assistant: "I’m not interested. It’s boring. I’d rather focus on work."
Driver: "That’s exactly what President Qin used to say. Look at him now—since he got a wife, his head’s full of nothing but her."
Assistant: "How do you know President Qin’s thinking about his wife?"
Driver: "Why do you think he’s so distracted right now? Because of his wife."
Assistant glanced at Qin Yuhe, who was standing at the end of the hallway, and muttered, "Is that so?"
Crystal chandeliers cast delicate shards of light, warm golden illumination spilling over the man. He faced the window at the end of the corridor, gazing down at the traffic below.
The phone in his hand, which he’d been holding the whole time, suddenly rang. A woman’s bright voice came through.
"Hello, hello. Calling for my brother Qin Yuhe."
