Of course, He Xiaoyuan hadn’t really fallen asleep. That’s why when Lu Chen kissed his head, his eyes opened, still clear.
But he didn’t realize it was a kiss—he assumed the light touch on his head was Lu Chen resting his chin there, like how he sometimes nudged the big cat. A familiar, gentle gesture between friends.
As for leaning in and wrapping himself around Lu Chen—without the slight alcohol buzz, without the emotional warmth of that night, he never would have done it.
It was embarrassingly sweet, yet tonight, his heart was so soft, so full of warmth. He wanted to be a child who could depend on someone, just for once, to lean on this man he trusted completely.
So many years had passed since his mother’s death, and he had never truly relied on anyone.
Lu Chen was a safe harbor, glowing warmly. After weathering so many storms to get here, he just wanted to stay, resting quietly in that safety.
After all, he was only twenty-one—not yet mature enough to face loneliness or bear hardships alone.
Finding someone trustworthy and dependable, he instinctively leaned in.
It was both instinct and a search for security.
He trusted Lu Chen completely. Sometimes, it was okay to let himself rely on someone.
The next morning, He Xiaoyuan watched as Lu Chen carefully folded the banner by the window, stacking it neatly, saying that from now on, whenever there was a reason to celebrate, they’d make a new banner and see how many they could collect in a year.
“Collect?”
“See how many?”
He Xiaoyuan laughed helplessly.
The bouquet, meanwhile, was taken by He Xiaoyuan to the office and placed on the terrace of the eleventh floor. The flowers were almost wilted, so he replaced them with fresh ones.
Stepping back to admire the arrangement, he was pleased. He took a photo with his phone, saving it and sending it to Lu Chen.
Lu Chen replied: 【Why did you take the flowers when you left?】
He Xiaoyuan playfully: 【Yeah, throw them away.】
Lu Chen: 【There’s a cat, don’t worry. If you throw them away, it’ll just fetch them back again.】
He Xiaoyuan chuckled softly, holding his phone.
Arriving at the project office that morning, most administrative staff and assistants were already there. He Xiaoyuan had arrived early and started posting photos from last night. Colleagues trickled in, some looking hungover, rushing to pour themselves coffee in the break room.
“You didn’t drink last night?” asked Chang Bei’s assistant, curious how He Xiaoyuan showed no puffiness, no eye bags, no redness.
A naturally handsome guy with innate talent, perhaps?
He Xiaoyuan, scrolling through his phone to post on social media, explained: “I took a hangover remedy yesterday.”
Someone in the office said: “A hangover cure? Isn’t that pseudo-science?”
“What brand?”
He Xiaoyuan had tried it more than once. Seeing the brand on hand, he named it.
After a moment, someone googled it: “Whoa! One small bottle costs three thousand?!”
He Xiaoyuan: ?
Other colleagues: …
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Yes, really three thousand. Imported, and apparently it works.”
Soon, a colleague exclaimed: “Manager He, you’re ridiculously wealthy, yet so low-key!”
He Xiaoyuan quickly zipped his lips. He had no idea the hangover remedy Lu Chen gave him cost three thousand. One bottle for a hangover? Must be good for the liver too, right?
After that distraction, He Xiaoyuan continued editing his social media post.
He eventually posted a nine-grid collage: last night at the music bar, food, group photos with colleagues, and the final photo showing him holding the cat and flowers, with the banner behind, edited to focus only on the banner.
The last photo was the cat being petted by Lu Chen. The cat clearly showed Lu Chen’s long, elegant fingers—hands of a man, attractive and refined.
Caption was simple: celebrating his first project contract signing with colleagues.
Likes and comments poured in, and He Xiaoyuan replied to each.
His friend Xu Ruomeng commented: 【Sweetie, ignore everything else—what’s going on with the last photo? Whose hand is that?】
He Xiaoyuan was about to reply when Xu Ruomeng messaged privately: 【Screenshot】
Xu Ruomeng: 【Who’s this?】
He Xiaoyuan replied: 【A friend.】
Xu Ruomeng: 【Which friend? You have a friend I don’t know about now?】
Xu Ruomeng: 【I don’t know them, right? If I did, I could tell just from the hand.】
Xu Ruomeng: 【Who is it?】
He Xiaoyuan: 【Hmm, you don’t know them.】
Xu Ruomeng: 【Come on, let’s meet for a meal.】
Xu Ruomeng: 【My gossip soul is burning.jpg】
He Xiaoyuan smiled. He had indeed been busy with projects recently and hadn’t had a meal with Xu Ruomeng for a while, so he agreed to a working lunch near the office.
Xu Ruomeng dramatically exclaimed, calling him a heartless capitalist: 【You’re so busy you can’t even spare a single weekend?】
He Xiaoyuan: 【I need to practice for my driving test on the weekend.】
Xu Ruomeng: 【Ohhh, right, I totally forgot.】
Xu Ruomeng: 【All your fault, capitalist, making people work for you.】
That week, He Xiaoyuan dove into coordinating Meow Meow Meow with Kelu.
He was constantly on the move—either preparing materials needed by Kelu, or in meetings with Kelu and Barry discussing the game’s release and launch.
During this time, He Xiaoyuan met a wide range of people: from Barry’s company, multiple legal specialists in different areas; Kelu’s managers and supervisors across departments; PR staff handling business and marketing; even concept artists from the game department and marketing planners from advertising.
His role was to communicate, relay, coordinate, and push things forward. Especially push things forward—he told Chang Bei that he felt like a bull, dragging everyone along with him.
Chang Bei nodded: “Pretty much. I’d call myself a sheepdog—herding the ‘sheep’ out to eat, then exhaustedly bringing them back into the pen.”
Chang Bei asked: “Is it difficult?”
He Xiaoyuan thought not.
He was full of energy every day, motivated, and the project progressed little by little with his effort and coordination among departments.
One evening, He Xiaoyuan arranged a private dinner with Zou Fanping and Yuan Miao at a nearby restaurant.
Naturally, the conversation turned to work. Zou Fanping and Yuan Miao complained about tedious tasks, endless KPIs. Zou said that hearing “KPI” now made him nauseous.
Yuan Miao added: “Our office supervisor is problematic. I’m their errand boy for all the unpleasant notifications. I feel like I’ve offended everyone since I joined.”
Zou Fanping: “Same here. They know I’m a management trainee; those who don’t think I’m a lapdog from a government office.”
He Xiaoyuan recognized the familiar tone and couldn’t help smiling.
None of them drank alcohol, just soft drinks. When Zou said “lapdog,” they all raised their glasses in a mock toast.
Later, He Xiaoyuan shared some of his current work, which left Zou and Yuan feeling envious.
Yuan Miao sighed: “Now this is real work!”
Zou Fanping: “Wow, you deal directly with managers and above? That’s so high-end!”
They toasted again.
Zou pretended to cry: “I’m jealous, really.”
Yuan Miao: “Drooling from envy.”
He Xiaoyuan noticed the difference in their roles: Zou and Yuan worked at the source—raising, maturing, and processing livestock. He handled strategy—where the meat needed to go, logistics, licensing, markets, and distributing to secondary and tertiary markets.
In short, he worked at the strategic, big-picture level.
He Xiaoyuan noted this silently, realizing that although Zou and Yuan’s work wasn’t worse, his role gave him exposure to broader, higher-level operations.
Not long after, Chang Bei invited him to another dinner, saying: “Mostly familiar faces—you know me, Yu Xun, Legal’s Mr. Qu, PR’s Lu Shishi, and a couple from Kelu.”
He Xiaoyuan, realizing he knew almost everyone and had free time that evening, agreed to go.
At the dinner, there were indeed some familiar people, plus a few new faces, about seven or eight tables’ worth of attendees, all seated at one large round table.
Chang Bei playfully introduced He Xiaoyuan as the “backbone” of the project with Barry.
Lu Shishi, half-teasing, scolded Chang Bei: “Stop bragging—you know He Xiaoyuan was the trainee I wanted to poach first.”
Chang Bei, cheeky: “I’m selling out! My face is thick!”
Everyone laughed.
He Xiaoyuan finally sat between Chang Bei and Yu Xun, not far from the main seat where Lu Shishi sat.
Scanning the room, he realized there were no ordinary employees from Sipu present—all were managers or above.
Being unfamiliar with this type of gathering—the people and purpose—He Xiaoyuan stayed cautious, ate quietly, and listened attentively.
During the meal, he heard a lot: Chang Bei believed Meow Meow Meow would be the next big hit but wasn’t satisfied with Barry’s company, doubtful about a second collaboration.
He recognized Yu Xun as the person in charge of the community takeout project, the same project that had made Sipu a major shareholder and invested 300 million USD in Series A.
They also discussed various other cases, each involving decision-level funding in the hundreds of millions.
Of course, there were lighter topics, like how assertive Lu Shishi was and how she couldn’t find a management trainee back then.
Lu Shishi smiled and glanced at He Xiaoyuan, saying lightly but meaningfully, “If I’d known he was going to the business office with Old Yang, I couldn’t have blocked his path to promotion anyway.”
Promotion?
He Xiaoyuan was puzzled, wondering if there was a hint of sarcasm in her words.
But there wasn’t—none at all. Because then Legal’s Qu Wenning, General Manager Qu, added, “Think of Qiao Sixing. Didn’t he start by working with Old Yang, then get promoted to the President’s Office under the big boss?”
Qu Wenning said to Lu Shishi, “If I were you, knowing he was going to the business office, I wouldn’t touch him—just let him go with Old Yang.”
He added, “Don’t forget how much the big boss trusts Old Yang. Whoever Old Yang pushes, the big boss will surely value.”
Hearing this, He Xiaoyuan felt a mix of awe and anxiety.
It seemed that, in the eyes of these top executives, his future was incredibly bright.
The senior leaders even raised their glasses as if specifically to toast him, leaving He Xiaoyuan feeling unexpectedly honored.
Chang Bei, sitting beside him, teased, “He Xiaoyuan, remember us when you get rich and famous.”
He Xiaoyuan clinked glasses with him, smiling awkwardly, and replied gracefully: “Chang Zong, I’m still having dinner with you. A meal like this is unforgettable in my life.”
Everyone laughed; the words were elegant and clever.
Some commented, “A bit like old Qiao, huh?”
Others added, “Old Qiao can’t stay in the President’s Office forever. Eventually, he’ll move up elsewhere. When his assistant’s position opens up, who knows who will fill it?”
The implication was clear—they were talking about He Xiaoyuan.
He Xiaoyuan felt a bit alarmed, unsure whether these words were casual flattery or hinted at a real possibility.
One thing was certain: at this moment, in this room, everyone present was middle management or above at Sipu.
He Xiaoyuan suddenly realized this and reflected on the past few months—interviewing, management trainee assignments, being transferred to the project team, pushing forward projects—and was amazed at how far he had already come.
Yes—far.
Now, he was effectively standing at the same level as Lu Shishi, Qu Wenning, Chang Bei, and Yang Yun.
He hadn’t expected or imagined it. Thinking carefully, he felt a mix of astonishment: Had he just stumbled onto a shortcut, or leaped over what others would take years to reach?
Or was it purely luck?
That day, on the 11th-floor terrace, light rain fell outside, the raindrops tracing the glass. The window was half open, letting in a cool September breeze instead of summer heat.
The terrace was lush with plants; the small koi in the water barrel swished their tails, the turtle crawled about, and the vase now held a fresh bouquet of sunflowers, champagne-colored and orange roses—replacing the flowers Lu Chen had sent earlier.
He Xiaoyuan had been there for a while, lazily reclining on a lounge chair, lost in thought.
Several days had passed since the dinner with Chang Bei and Lu Shishi.
In these few days, He Xiaoyuan occasionally reflected: Life is a series of choices. If he hadn’t met Lu Chen, hadn’t seen all those project materials, would he have stuck to his original plan to join Jinfu?
If he’d gone to Jinfu, would he be standing at this height today?
Or would he be like Zou Fanping and Yuan Miao, buried in tedious, high-density KPIs?
If so, could he have reached his current position at all?
If he could, how long would it have taken—years? Or longer?
He Xiaoyuan couldn’t imagine, yet he still pondered it.
Was his reaching this point truly the result of his own effort and ability?
Or was it because of Lu Chen?
And if he hadn’t met Lu Chen…
Footsteps and the door opening broke his reverie.
He turned his head to see Lu Chen approaching the lounge chair, legs straight in his slacks. Overhead, Lu Chen’s voice was calm: “Tired? Slacking here?”
He Xiaoyuan’s gaze followed him, blinking.
Lu Chen stood with hands in his pockets, looking down at him gently. “Thinking about something?”
He Xiaoyuan: “Hmm.”
Seeing no change in his expression, Lu Chen asked, “Work, or something else?”
He Xiaoyuan remained lying down, briefly averted his gaze, thinking the question was hard to answer.
Lu Chen: “Looks like it’s not work.”
He Xiaoyuan refocused and replied: “Yes, not work.”
Lu Chen patiently asked again: “Then what are you thinking about?”
About…
He Xiaoyuan spoke casually: “I was thinking—if I hadn’t met you, where would I be now?”
Lu Chen: Hmm?
He Xiaoyuan talked about the dinner with Chang Bei, Lu Shishi, and others, then reflected on his recent thoughts.
He added: “It just feels… kind of miraculous.”
He Xiaoyuan continued: “Back then, I was so eager to go to Jinfu. I thought if I worked hard enough to be first, I’d go where I wanted. Then you showed me the project materials. I buried myself in them for days and suddenly really wanted to join the project team.”
Lu Chen prompted gently: “And why do you think that was?”
He Xiaoyuan thought for a moment: “Because from the beginning, I didn’t even know what Jinfu really did. I had no concept of it, and even less of finance.”
“But the materials you showed me were so detailed. As I read them, I could run through the project process in my mind. I realized that process—that’s the kind of work I want to do. It fits my ideas about how I want to work.”
He Xiaoyuan raised his gaze as he spoke and looked at Lu Chen beside him. “You see—without you, I wouldn’t even know any of this, and I wouldn’t have made the choices or changes I did back then.”
Then he added, “And my current job—it’s especially…” He paused.
Lu Chen lowered his head to look at He Xiaoyuan, waiting patiently, not urging him at all.
He Xiaoyuan thought for several seconds before choosing a word: “High-end.”
Especially high-end.
The projects involved sums of money that easily ran into eight figures or hundreds of millions, and everyone they dealt with was at the manager level or above.
And as for He Xiaoyuan himself?
He described himself like this: “Just graduated, no experience, nothing at all.”
And yet, it was precisely because he entered the project team and participated in Chang Bei’s project that he ultimately got the chance to follow an entire project through.
What did that amount to, really?
Did it mean he was just lucky?
Tracing it back—he got into the project team because of Lu Chen; he changed his mind about going to Financial Services because Lu Chen showed him the project materials; even his first-place ranking in the management trainee rotation was because he met Lu Chen and had such a good senior who was willing to teach him.
Reflecting on the not-short, not-long path since joining the company, a sense of unworthiness quietly welled up in He Xiaoyuan’s heart.
He felt it was all because his luck was too good—what virtue or ability did he himself really have?
Lu Chen saw clearly what was troubling He Xiaoyuan during this casual conversation. He didn’t say anything else, only spoke steadily: “Do you know why I was able to get into an Ivy League school?”
He Xiaoyuan: “Huh?”
Lu Chen stood beside the lounge chair, both hands in his pockets, his gaze level as he looked out the window. His expression was exceptionally calm as he said, “It wasn’t because I was smarter, more talented, or born better at studying than others. It was because I was born into a family with very good conditions.”
He Xiaoyuan froze for a moment, not understanding why Lu Chen suddenly brought this up.
Lu Chen continued, “My family gave me advantages that ordinary people don’t have. From a very young age, they sent me to study all kinds of subjects, found the best resources, and hired the best teachers.”
Lu Chen turned his head and lowered his gaze, looking at He Xiaoyuan on the lounge chair. “Why was I able to go to an Ivy League school? Because from the very beginning, I was standing at a higher position than others.”
His voice was gentle, guiding He Xiaoyuan’s thoughts. “Do I need to feel that I was unworthy, just because I started from a higher point?”
He Xiaoyuan was left speechless.
He wanted to say it wasn’t the same, but no words of rebuttal would come out. Deep down, he knew that Lu Chen’s comparison was actually appropriate.
It was he himself who was overthinking, drilling into a problem that didn’t really need to be dissected so deeply.
At this point, Lu Chen continued, “Sometimes, people don’t need to think about why they’ve reached a certain position. That position needs someone, and someone will always step into it. If not him, then you; if not you, then me; if not me, then someone else.”
“The person who steps up might have done so because they happened to catch the opportunity at just the right time, or because of their strength, or, like you think, purely because of good luck.”
“No matter the reason, those people have already stepped up and are standing at that position and height.”
“Since you’re already here, thinking too much is useless and unnecessary. You just need to do what should be done at this height.”
He Xiaoyuan repeated silently: Just do what should be done at this height…
Lu Chen said, “Don’t you think so?”
What did he think?
He Xiaoyuan let out a self-mocking laugh at his own pointless overthinking. “I think you’re right.”
“Besides…”
Lu Chen wasn’t finished. His dark eyes quietly met He Xiaoyuan’s gaze. “Besides, I think you got to where you are today on your own ability.”
“Not because of me, and not because of luck.”
Lu Chen looked at him. “You’re very smart—you get things immediately. You work hard, harder than most people. You’re resilient, and you have strong execution.”
Hearing this all of a sudden, He Xiaoyuan’s slightly upturned eyes filled with surprise, his gaze widening a little.
Facing that expression, Lu Chen said with certainty, “In my view, even if you hadn’t chosen Commercial Services back then and had insisted on going to Financial Services, it wouldn’t have taken long for you to reach the position you’re in today.”
He Xiaoyuan never imagined that even at a moment like this, Lu Chen would still affirm him—so firmly, so completely, one hundred percent.
And the affirmation and support he had received from Lu Chen were truly too many, so many he couldn’t even count them all.
Once again, He Xiaoyuan was moved. His expression slipped—he felt both touched and amused. Saying anything now would feel too sentimental, so he looked up and joked lightly, “President Lu, big boss—am I gold in your eyes, always shining no matter what?”
Lu Chen smiled faintly and replied beautifully, “You’re priceless.”
He Xiaoyuan completely lost it.
He thought about how he’d been lying there in silence, drilling himself into a corner, and then Lu Chen came along and started speaking nothing but “sweet words.”
What else was there to think about? Stop thinking. If there was time, it would be better spent pushing the project forward.
Just like that, He Xiaoyuan fully let go of his unease about having reached this position so quickly.
He sat up from the lounge chair and was about to stand when Lu Chen took one hand out of his pocket and extended it toward him. Seeing this, He Xiaoyuan reached out and took it, pulling himself up—only for his hand to suddenly be gripped by Lu Chen.
?
He Xiaoyuan looked at Lu Chen in confusion.
Lu Chen held his hand, facing him directly, his expression serious and earnest, his gaze deep. “Don’t think about why. Don’t look back at the road you’ve already walked. In everything, look forward.”
The man’s dark eyes reflected He Xiaoyuan’s silent gaze and face as he continued, “Look forward. Look at me.”
They were clearly words of guidance and reassurance, words He Xiaoyuan understood. Yet for some reason, when he heard Lu Chen say “look at me,” his heart gave a light, sudden jump, as if it had skipped a beat.
At the same time, he clearly felt the warmth continuously flowing from Lu Chen’s palm into his own through their joined hands.
All at once, he felt that Lu Chen’s hand was big and warm. Being held like this felt warm, comfortable, and reassuring.
Whether it was because of the warmth passing between them or something else entirely, after hearing Lu Chen’s “look at me” during their eye contact, He Xiaoyuan’s ears suddenly turned red for no apparent reason, and his eyes flickered slightly, like a startled fawn’s.
Lu Chen was still standing face to face with him, holding the young man’s hand, his expression perfectly serious. He chuckled softly—steady, unhurried, and with a hint of feigned innocence—as he said, “What did I say? I didn’t say anything, did I? Then why did your face turn red?”
Scolding was scolding, teasing was teasing, holding hands was holding hands. After saying words that only a big bad wolf of a man could say, he even lifted his other free hand and reached toward the young man in front of him, gently pinching the increasingly red cheek. His tone lifted slightly. “Hmm?”
Not long after, He Xiaoyuan walked toward the office area with a flushed face, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand as he went.
As he walked, he asked himself in his heart: What did Brother Lu say? He didn’t say anything, right? Why am I blushing?
Blushing for what—what the heck.