Although the conclusion was far from pleasant, Jiang Tong felt a sense of closure after his phone call with Xiao Fengtai. Upon returning to the office, he steeled himself and called a meeting with the department heads. His subordinates entered with expressions of practiced gravity, yet the moment Jiang Tong turned to close the door, he noticed several of them exchanging furtive glances, their faces alight with the excitement of a brewing scandal.
"I’ve called you all here for one reason," he cleared his throat, feigning ignorance of the undercurrents swirling in the conference room. "I believe many of you have seen the video circulating online today. I’ll clarify it once and for all: your eyes didn't deceive you. I did indeed attend a performance with Mr. Xiao of Huayu. If I’d known someone was filming, I would have ironed my shirt more carefully before leaving the house."
He intentionally cracked a joke and was satisfied to hear a ripple of well-meaning laughter through the room. The atmosphere lightened, and one subordinate grew bold enough to ask, "President Jiang, did Mr. Xiao invite you, or did you invite him?"
"I invited Mr. Xiao; a friend gave me the tickets," Jiang Tong confessed candidly. "After extensive due diligence and communication between both parties, Huayu led our Series B round, pulling us through Huaqing’s most difficult period. I actually have a good personal relationship with both Mr. Xiao and their Director, Mr. Fang. Since I hadn't seen Mr. Xiao in a while, we met for dinner and a show to exchange views on the market and the industry."
"I’ve seen the video and spoken with Mr. Xiao. Neither of us thinks much of it. However, since Huaqing just completed its Series C round and public attention is high, Mr. Xiao and I agreed it was necessary to provide an explanation, at least internally. In twenty-first-century modern China, we can't allow girls to wander the streets together while forbidding two men from stepping out for some musical enrichment."
Regardless of the turmoil in Jiang Tong’s heart, he appeared composed, candid, and graceful on the surface. His explanation was brief, yet logical and humorous, possessing a subtle, persuasive power. Only Fang Zhixing, had he heard it, would have likely cursed them in his head: *You two and your messy entanglement—why drag me in as a shield?*
Since the parties involved didn't seem to care, the crowd's enthusiasm for the gossip dampened. As they filed out of the conference room, the focus of the employees' conversation had already shifted from the boss’s scandal to whether they should organize a group trip to a farmhouse this weekend for fish head pancakes.
Jiang Tong walked at the rear, watching his subordinates' retreating backs with a bitter smile.
The storm seemed to have vanished into thin air, yet the damage was already done. The fragile trust they had just begun to rebuild had been struck; though both sides pretended nothing had happened, cracks had begun to appear in the weight-bearing beams of that trust—hidden, subtle, difficult to detect, and even harder to repair.
Jiang Tong couldn't figure out what he had done wrong, so he could only grit his teeth and try to make amends. Since Xiao Fengtai had suggested they see each other less, Jiang Tong couldn't exactly kidnap the man. Instead, he lowered his posture, sending more messages and making more calls, humbling himself repeatedly. After a week of persistence, though Xiao Fengtai remained cold, he finally agreed to meet Jiang Tong for dinner over the weekend.
No matter how great the misunderstanding, a face-to-face talk could surely clear the air. To ensure nothing went wrong, Jiang Tong carefully booked a restaurant and notified the office in advance to clear his entire weekend, striving to eliminate any potential interference. Like a student preparing for a major exam, he went to bed early the night before, only to be plunged into a strange dream.
It was three in the afternoon in a small room without lights. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, gilding the furniture in a warm, soft gold. It seemed to be his small apartment in Singapore from ten years ago. In the dream, both he and Xiao Fengtai were still very young, having tasted only the sweetness of love, carefree and fearless. The teenage Xiao Fengtai was slender, like a tender willow swaying in a spring breeze. He was curled in Jiang Tong’s arms as they shared a book, whispering to each other from time to time. Jiang Tong said something that made Xiao Fengtai giggle; he looked up at Jiang Tong, his eyes shining.
Jiang Tong watched the two of them from a god-like perspective, his heart feeling as though it were soaking in warm water, gradually expanding with heat. The boy’s pure, sincere admiration and his own desperate, fiery passion—though they could never be repeated—brought him comfort just by having existed.
But the beauty didn't last. With a thunderous crash, the world outside the window plunged into darkness. The four walls of the small apartment collapsed backward like a cheap stage set. It turned out they were standing in a massive soundstage. Countless flashbulbs surged forward, surrounding the terrified pair.
A powerful suction pulled from beneath him, and when Jiang Tong opened his eyes again, he found himself inside the scene. The surroundings were a black mass of camera lenses, mobile phones, recording pens, and the prying, curious, disgusted, and disdainful eyes of the public.
He even spotted familiar figures in the crowd. Bei Bei was holding Jiang Zhen’s hand, her eyes wide in disbelief. Li Qianqian and Song Jiaqi were also holding up their phones, filming and laughing as if watching something hilarious. Pei Jing stood a bit further away, arms crossed, looking down at him coldly as if he were a contaminated Petri dish.
And Xiao Fengtai... Xiao Fengtai grew up in an instant. The adult Xiao Fengtai was dressed in a sharp suit, his features stripped of their youthful softness to reveal a piercing handsomeness. He broke free from Jiang Tong’s embrace, straightened his collar, and stood tall. Jiang Tong remained on the ground, looking up at him. Xiao Fengtai seemed to have suddenly become toweringly tall, his shadow looming over him. When their eyes met, a storm was gathering in Xiao Fengtai’s gaze.
Jiang Tong opened his mouth to speak, but found his throat blocked as if by cotton; he couldn't make a single sound. He broke into a cold sweat of anxiety, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
Xiao Fengtai watched his pathetic display with cold indifference. Finally, appearing impatient, he gave a perfunctory smile, then turned and strode away to join the ranks of the onlookers.
Jiang Tong wanted to chase after him, but the man vanished into the darkness like a drop of water into the ocean. Only Jiang Tong remained under the spotlight. Around him were countless eyes and mouths, the sound of phone cameras clicking, the noise of shutters, and the audible tsk-tsking of the crowd. The snickering was faint at first, hissing like a snake’s tongue, but it grew louder and louder until it became a deafening, sharp roar that bored into Jiang Tong’s brain.
Jiang Tong snapped his eyes open.
He had been jolted awake by his ringtone. A 7:00 AM call from Li Qianqian was an ill omen in itself. The nightmare had left Jiang Tong in a foul mood; emotion told him to hang up, but reason told him to answer. Reason eventually won.
The moment the call connected, before Jiang Tong could speak, Li Qianqian’s questions pelted him like a downpour: "Have you seen the news? Has anyone called you? Did you say anything?"
Jiang Tong was bewildered. "What news?"
Li Qianqian let out a visible sigh of relief on the other end. "From now on, don't answer any calls from anyone. There’s a meeting with the PR team at the office at 9:00 AM. Whatever you do, don't be late—"
Jiang Tong had to interrupt her. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Li Qianqian gave a bitter laugh. "Boss, our company is on the trending searches."
The previous video hadn't spread very far, which Jiang Tong personally attributed to the fact that he was rather unremarkable and lacked the drama to excite the public. This time, however, the focus of the gossip was on Xiao Fengtai. Several high-definition photos of the man, seemingly taken at business events, were shot from perfect angles—so perfect that even Jiang Tong felt the urge to right-click and save them. Beyond analyzing Xiao Fengtai’s glittering resume, the article added fuel to the fire by describing the Xiao family’s commercial status in Southeast Asia, painting Huayu Capital, which Xiao Fengtai founded, as the leader of China’s new generation of private equity funds.
Huayu’s best investment of the year was none other than Huaqing Biotech. Jiang Tong patiently read through the author’s description of Huaqing’s development—which was high on literary flair but low on factual accuracy—and almost wanted to close the page. Why worry about such speculative nonsense?
As if answering Jiang Tong’s question, the author then posed a grand inquiry: Why was Huayu able to buy into Huaqing precisely at its lowest point? Aside from Xiao Fengtai’s "keen business intuition" and "investment talent," were there other reasons for Huayu’s success?
A line of enlarged, bold text stung Jiang Tong’s retinas: *“It was all because of love!”*
It was the same video, but now animated, with several subtle angles extracted into GIFs. In one, Jiang Tong was smiling as he looked at Xiao Fengtai; in another, Xiao Fengtai was pressing Jiang Tong’s arm in an intimate gesture. There was even a clever forced-perspective shot where Jiang Tong and Xiao Fengtai’s lips overlapped, appearing like a fleeting kiss. What was originally a slightly ambiguous video had been meticulously edited to amplify a hint of romance into a full-blown affair. Anyone watching would think Jiang Tong and Xiao Fengtai were in the heat of a passionate relationship, unable to restrain their affection even under the flashbulbs.
Jiang Tong couldn't bear to read the author’s various speculations about his relationship with Xiao Fengtai and scrolled to the bottom, only to find the biggest bombshell at the end—a row of blurry surveillance photos from a hotel corridor. The silhouettes were grainy, looking like them yet not quite. The author’s intent was self-evident.
At this point, all the elements the public loved to see were present: wealth, inspiration, forbidden love, and secret sex—a real-life K-drama. The fact that both parties possessed the attractive looks suited for such a plot only fueled the fire. Several WeChat public accounts and Weibo marketing accounts shared the post simultaneously, sending the names of Huaqing, Jiang Tong, and Xiao Fengtai straight onto the Weibo trending list.
With trembling fingers, Jiang Tong clicked into the keyword. Comments flooded in instantly, filling the screen. He kept scrolling down, but he couldn't reach the end.
*“Aww, what kind of fairy-tale plot is this! The overbearing CEO and his little scientist, I ship it!”*
*“If you swapped their genders, this could be a movie or TV show. I’ve even thought of the name: ‘Destined to Invest in You.’”*
*“I can get behind this CEO, I really can!”*
*“You take the CEO; the puppy-eyed, refined scientist is locked with me. I’ve swallowed the key.”*
...
The article was written with cunning malice, wrapping character assassination in the light tone of gossip. Beneath the praise for their love lay a cold subtext: Xiao Fengtai’s precise investment in Huaqing must have been based on insider information. Otherwise, when so many funds had decided that a struggling Huaqing had lost its value, why would Huayu have the "insight" to find the pearl in the mud? The general public watched for the spectacle, but investors could see the implications at a glance.
Cold calculations were for later. Jiang Tong exited Weibo, his mind filled with only one thought: *Has Xiao Fengtai seen this?*
Once he saw it, what would he think? What would he say? What would he do?
On the way from his home to the office, Jiang Tong called Xiao Fengtai repeatedly, but not once did it go through. The cold, mechanical prompt of a powered-off phone came from the receiver. With every call, Jiang Tong’s heart sank a little further. Xiao Fengtai never turned off his phone; even on a plane, he would use the Wi-Fi to stay connected.
By the time he walked into the conference room, the room was already full. On the left sat the relevant Huaqing employees; on the right sat the lawyers and the external PR team. The person sitting in the first seat on the right caught Jiang Tong by surprise—Fang Zhixing, dressed in a sharp suit with tortoiseshell glasses perched on his nose, was tapping away at his laptop with a grave expression, devoid of his usual playful demeanor.
Jiang Tong walked toward the only empty seat in the center. After sitting down, he turned off his already hot phone and placed it face down on the table. Hearing the sound, Fang Zhixing turned his head slightly. In the moment their eyes met, Jiang Tong caught a fleeting flash of sympathy in the depths of Fang Zhixing’s gaze.
A sense of calm despair submerged Jiang Tong. Xiao Fengtai did know. This was his answer.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 鱼头泡饼 | Fish head pancakes | A traditional Beijing dish consisting of braised fish head served with pieces of flatbread. |
| 农家乐 | Farmhouse / Agritainment | A type of rural tourism in China where people visit farms to eat local food and experience country life. |
| 命中注定投资你 | Destined to Invest in You | A play on common romance titles like "Destined to Love You." |
| 营销号 | Marketing accounts | Accounts on social media platforms (like Weibo or WeChat) that post sensationalist content to gain followers and revenue. |
