Having been there once before, she made her way to the Art Department with ease, and together with her colleagues, she discussed the designs and styles of the props based on the gameplay in the plan.
“...This one, should we still ask President Pei?” said Sister Zhu. “Our dungeon added several new side quest lines, and the Planning Department is short-staffed, so President Pei drafted all the side quest outlines himself.”
“Alright, give him a call and ask,” Qiuyun nodded.
“No need for that. President Pei has been in his office all morning, so I’ll just have Meimei go over and call him over.”
Three minutes later, Pei Cizhou strolled over in a white t-shirt and jeans, his grumpy expression looking as arrogant as if he owned the place.
Qiuyun: ?
Who pissed him off this time?
By the time they all ironed out the current workflow and moved things forward, it was just about lunchtime.
“Chief Artist Qiu.” Pei Cizhou called out to her.
Qiuyun grabbed a boxed lunch from the warmer: “What’s up?”
“Come eat in my office. I have something to discuss with you.”
“Okay.”
Qiuyun picked up her chopsticks and went in. The two sat on opposite sides of the desk, and Pei Cizhou slid a milk tea over to her.
“Huh? Never had this brand before.”
She stuck the straw in and opened her lunch box lid at the same time. “What’s the matter? Something that needs to be said in the office?”
Pei Cizhou gave a light snort and opened his own lunch alongside hers: “How could I ask to borrow money from you in front of all those employees?”
“Cough, cough.” Qiuyun immediately shoved the milk tea back. “I was wondering why you were suddenly being so nice for no reason. Here’s your milk tea back—I haven’t touched a single sip.”
Pei Cizhou: “...”
“We’ve known each other for this long, and you reject me without even hearing the amount?” he said through gritted teeth. “Besides, can a cup of milk tea buy you out? Could it possibly sway your decision?”
Qiuyun silently nodded to herself, then looked up, smiled, and pulled the milk tea back, taking a small sip. Not bad.
“Fair enough. Thanks, but no borrowing.”
“...”
Really.
When she put on that fake act, she was insufferable, but when she dropped the act, she was infuriating!
Pei Cizhou took a deep breath, calmly snapped his chopsticks apart, and said, “Fine, don’t lend it then. Without money to keep the company running, the game won’t be able to launch, and that grand dynasty vision in Miss Qiu’s head... tsk, tsk. What a shame, what a shame.”
“...”
Qiuyun choked on her milk tea.
Little brat.
Not old at all, yet he wielded that whole “holding the child hostage to threaten the mother” trick like a pro.
Seeing the look on her face like she’d swallowed a fly, Pei Cizhou felt he’d won that round. The corners of his mouth curled up in a smile he couldn’t suppress as he lowered his brows and coaxed: “Miss Qiu, I’m not asking for a free loan. I’d pay interest higher than the bank rate, no problem. Or we could convert it to equity later. Anything is negotiable.”
Qiuyun narrowed her eyes: “President Pei, as the son of a mayor and a child of a high-ranking family, you can’t find anyone to borrow from in Beijing’s social circle?”
Pei Cizhou, without a hint of guilt, replied: “Yeah, surprisingly, I really can’t.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said bluntly.
“How sad. Now Miss Qiu won’t even bother with pleasantries with me.”
“Well, when dealing with a sharp character like Young Master Pei, it’s better to be straightforward.”
The sparsely furnished office felt empty and vast, but the midday sunlight streaming in filled that emptiness.
“Sigh.”
Pei Cizhou set down his chopsticks with a sigh, a hint of pitifulness in his voice: “I’m not lying to you. I really can’t borrow any.”
Qiuyun didn’t respond, only raising an eyebrow slightly to signal him to continue.
“Do you know,” Pei Cizhou tilted his head back slightly, the sunlight landing on his exquisite, sharply defined face like a golden satin draping down along his clear features, casting a soft glow that even made his eyelashes shimmer faintly gold, “that I have an older brother?”
Qiuyun was stunned for two seconds, then calmly looked away.
Fine.
She admitted it.
If anyone else had bickered with her like a grade-schooler, said rude things, or done such shameless things, she would have smiled, kept her distance, and then found a chance to knock them down a peg for a good fall.
But with Pei Cizhou, sometimes when she wanted to get mad, you’d just look at his face. Eh!
Suddenly, you’d feel like he didn’t really have any bad intentions after all.
It’s just that he was young, his family situation being what it was, and he was this good-looking. And from interacting with him, besides being sharp-tongued and loving to watch the world burn, he was actually pretty decent.
After all, she was taking thirty percent without cutting a single profit point!
“...So they rarely played with me. I could only wander around the park by myself. That’s where I met Old Yang, my calligraphy teacher.”
Pei Cizhou pursed his lips, a bit of a proud tone creeping in: “But don’t think I’m trying to play the victim here. I never wanted to hang with those sycophantic second-generation types anyway. Even A Zhi, who’s closest to me, didn’t know who I was at first... Are you spacing out!?”
“Huh?” Qiuyun snapped back.
She’d actually zoned out at a time like this!
Pei Cizhou was so angry he stammered: “I-I mean it! Do you have any idea I’ve never—! ...Forget it! I can’t even talk to you!”
Fine, so she took such good care of that little kid Little Seven, remembered everything and kept it all close to her heart!
Now, when he was sharing things with her, she couldn’t even listen!
Was he just some unimportant person to her?!
“Sorry, sorry!” Qiuyun said, embarrassed.
Mainly, it was the expression and tone he was using—none of that usual smug, rebellious, defiant teenager vibe.
I mean, a good-looking young guy like this, in a white t-shirt and jeans, with his bangs falling messily over his forehead, telling you his troubles in a deliberately brave sort of voice in the sunlight—it had this built-in broken quality to it.
So the more she listened, the less her brain could take in what he was actually saying.
Qiuyun hastily tried to soothe him: “I know the company is still in its early stages and things are tough. I was just playing hard to get earlier—I never said I wouldn’t lend it. Right now, I’ve got about 900,000 saved up. Think that’ll cover it, President Pei?”
That included over 300,000 in savings, her end-of-month salary of 80,000, and the 500,000 that had just come in.
“Not borrowing anymore!”
Pei Cizhou turned away, seething.
The more angry he got, the more she was now willing to lend it just to soothe him!
Did she think he was the kind of man who could be bought with money?!
Seeing this, Qiuyun’s head ached.
Demon Boy.
Here we go again.
“Young Master Pei. Lead Designer Pei. President Pei.” Qiuyun walked around to his side, leaning one hand on the back of his chair and speaking gently: “Honestly, your story reminded me of my own childhood. I just felt an empathy, a kindred sorrow.”
Hearing that, Pei Cizhou’s expression softened a little: “When you were a kid, it was also because of your parents that no kids would play with you?”
So it was because of her parents.
Seeing that she was getting through to him, Qiuyun immediately nodded, her brow tinged with a faint, sorrowful look: “Yeah. I have a younger brother, and my family was extremely into favoring boys over girls.”
What?
It was the twenty-first century, and there was still such outdated superstitious nonsense!
Pei Cizhou’s emotions came and went quickly: “If they favored boys over girls, it’s only because they think a daughter won’t support them in old age. In that case, just do as they expect—don’t support them when they’re old. Problem solved, right?”
That was exactly what Qiuyun had been planning. She humored him: “President Pei makes a good point. From now on, whatever the court orders, I’ll pay that much and not a cent more.”
