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"CEO Wen? CEO Wen!"
The champagne-colored Bentley sped down the motorway, its sheer price tag forcing the surrounding traffic to give way like a parting sea.
Secretary Zhao glanced at the dashboard. Seeing that the driver was strictly adhering to the speed limit despite the urgency, she finally felt a small sense of relief.
In times like these, she realized that loving yourself was far more practical than loving others. After all, she still had a family to support!
But.
Secretary Zhao carefully unscrewed a bottle of water and handed it toward CEO Wen.
"CEO Wen, I've already contacted the medical team. They will arrive at the school shortly. However, Lu Xing still hasn't answered any calls or messages."
She was being honest.
This was the first time she had ever seen Wen Lingxiu look so utterly panicked.
Back when the Wen family suffered their tragic accident, the business world was like a pack of wolves.
Everyone was watching, waiting for the family to collapse so they could tear off a piece of the cake for themselves.
But.
Just as morale was crumbling from within, it was Wen Lingxiu, the artist who had spent her life immersed in the "four arts", who stood up to lead.
(TL: Four Arts (四艺 - Sìyì): Refers to the four traditional academic and artistic accomplishments of a scholar: Qin (music), Qi (strategy/Go), Shu (calligraphy), and Hua (painting).)
To defend against the wolves outside, she first had to pacify the chaos inside.
The employees were all watching her. If she had shown even a flicker of weakness, the entire Wen family empire would have disintegrated.
At the time, Secretary Zhao had thought this soft, refined young lady would be knocked down with a single punch. She had even considered packing her things to jump ship.
She gave her three days. At most, three days before this art-loving girl would be forced to walk away in tears.
But in the days that followed...
Secretary Zhao watched with her own eyes as Wen Lingxiu silently and stoically managed the funerals, handed over projects, and settled every lingering debt.
She was rational, calm, and didn't falter for a second.
Secretary Zhao realized she had guessed wrong.
Wen Lingxiu was far more resilient than anyone had imagined.
After surviving that harrowing period through sheer, desperate willpower, Wen Lingxiu finally granted herself a single day off.
Secretary Zhao assumed her boss’s artistic side was finally surfacing—that she was going to seek out a sunny beach or visit a high-end gallery to heal.
She didn't.
In the final hour of that one-day holiday, Secretary Zhao picked her up at the entrance of a cemetery.
That day, Wen Lingxiu was dressed entirely in black, her expression a mask of profound loneliness, with a single white chrysanthemum tucked in her pocket.
She had asked, voice blank: "Who am I?"
Secretary Zhao replied: "You are CEO Wen. The pillar of the Wen family."
She shook her head. "I am not."
Finally.
Before stepping into the car, she looked back at the rows of gravestones and whispered.
"I have no home."
That was the only moment of vulnerability Secretary Zhao had ever seen.
From then on, Wen Lingxiu abandoned her refined sensibilities and became the kind of "philistine merchant" that artists despised.
She soberly calculated the profit of every project, rationally analyzed the value of every employee, and coldly dismantled every malicious competitor.
Secretary Zhao had assumed that after years of such trials, Wen Lingxiu’s heart had become an unbreakable fortress.
But looking at her now, at the way she gripped the water bottle so tightly her hands wouldn't stop shaking...
Watching the violent tremors rippling across the surface of the water inside that bottle...
Secretary Zhao realized she had guessed wrong again.
Wen Lingxiu was far more fragile than she had imagined.
...
A certain high-end residential complex.
"Little Xia, you've improved so much lately. Tell me, are you in a relationship?"
Song Li propped up her chin, her eyes sparkling with interest as she gossiped.
She had only taken Xia Yeshuang as her apprentice as a favor to Old Man Xia, but she hadn't expected the girl to be such a natural talent.
At her age, Song Li didn't need more money. What she craved was an heir to her legacy.
A student who was wealthy, beautiful, and gifted? Everyone would love her.
Song Li was no exception.
Xia Yeshuang, who had been in the middle of a vocal exercise, stopped abruptly. She began to stammer, "No, teacher... you're teasing me again."
Song Li grinned. "What's wrong with that? The ultimate goal of art is to forge an emotional connection with the audience."
"Whether it's painting, writing, or singing, it all requires a piece of the author's soul."
"Before, your singing was all technique and no heart. But now, when I listen to you... it finally has that flavor."
Xia Yeshuang was a bit dazed. She turned to Zhao Yeye for confirmation.
"Does it?"
Zhao Yeye, sitting nearby, maintained an air of professional composure.
"Your intonation is off, your breath is shallow, you're over-relying on your throat for power, and your chest isn't open enough..."
Xia Yeshuang was dumbfounded.
"Are those all my problems?"
"Your main task right now, my dear young lady, is to take a break, drink some water, and protect that throat of yours."
Zhao Yeye’s elaborate, dramatic way of speaking made both her and Song Li burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"I'll be recuperating in the countryside for a while," Song Li added. "If you two want to visit, you are more than welcome. Yeye, your own teacher is returning to the country soon, too. Remember to go and pay your respects."
Zhao Yeye nodded. "Thank you, Teacher Song. I will."
In the world of famous singers, everyone crossed paths at various events. They were all quite familiar with one another.
"By the way, Little Xia, an international cultural exchange event has invited me to perform. I want to take you along. You should prepare a few pieces to sing on stage. Let those old fossils see that my apprentice is far better than their 'crooked melons and split dates.'"
(TL: Crooked melons and split dates (歪瓜裂枣 - Wāiguā lièzǎo): A common idiom used to describe people who are ugly, untalented, or "unripe" compared to the best. Here, Song Li is calling her rivals' students mediocre.)
Ever since she took Xia Yeshuang under her wing, Song Li had been relentlessly showing off to other instructors.
'Heh!'
A voice like that, one where Heaven itself is chasing her down to feed her talent, and I’m the one who found her!
This was an incredible opportunity for exposure. Even Zhao Yeye felt that Teacher Song was being exceptionally generous. But Xia Yeshuang asked hesitantly:
"Teacher Song... how long would we be gone?"
'Huh?'
Song Li hadn't expected her student to hesitate for even a second.
"Half a month. At most, no more than a month."
'That long.'
Xia Yeshuang was genuinely troubled.
She hadn't seen Lu Xing for just a few days and already felt a hollow ache in her chest. If she went abroad for an entire month...
Zhao Yeye saw exactly what was going through her friend’s head and shook her shoulders in desperation.
"Sister! You cannot be a love-struck fool right now!!!"
Xia Yeshuang bit her lip and tried to explain herself.
"It's not about him. I'm just worried I won't be able to acclimate to the environment over there, okay?"
Zhao Yeye: ...
Song Li: ...
A girl who had crossed Northern Europe to see the Northern Lights in Iceland at ten years old, and now she's claiming she can't "acclimate" to a trip abroad?
Song Li didn't want to meddle in her student's love life.
She simply said, "Think it over. This is a rare opportunity. Tell me when you've made up your mind."
Zhao Yeye rolled her eyes so hard they nearly stayed that way.
'Damn it.'
She felt like the "clown" friend who tries so hard to talk her best friend out of a bad relationship, only to end up being the bridesmaid at the wedding.
"By the way, someone messaged you while you were singing."
"I saw it wasn't a call, so I figured it wasn't an emergency. I didn't want to interrupt your flow. You should check it."
Zhao Yeye huffily handed over the phone, wondering who on earth could have tamed a ferocious, golden-haired lion like Xia Yeshuang into such an obedient kitten.
'F*ck!'
What a god!
Xia Yeshuang opened WeChat. At the first glance of the message, her expression froze.
The next second.
She grabbed her bag and sprinted toward the door, leaving only a shout behind.
"Teacher, emergency! I have to go!"
Bang!
The door slammed shut.
Song Li was left in a daze. "Is her father getting married again?"
Zhao Yeye was equally stunned. "If that were the case, she would have grabbed a baseball bat on her way out."
...
...