Lu Pingzhang ended the call.
A moment later, the number that had been blocked by his “line busy” status earlier rang again.
He answered.
The voice on the other end oozed mock apology and smugness:
“Lu-ge, thought you blocked me. You’ve been dodging my calls all morning.”
Lu Pingzhang had no patience for pleasantries.
“What do you want?”
Hou Wude gave a hoarse laugh—his voice shredded from years of indulgence.
“You saw the news, right? Gotta say, sorry for the trouble. Appreciate you stepping aside and letting Miss Bai fall into my arms.”
Lu set his phone down on the desk and rubbed his brow. Secretary Yin quickly stepped forward and started massaging his temples.
The technique was professional, but Lu’s mind kept flashing back to that night—Qiao Jin in a bathrobe, silently rubbing his forehead with warm fingers.
He waved Secretary Yin off. The man took a step back.
Hou Wude was still talking, voice thick with innuendo:
“No wonder you liked her. She’s something else, that one.”
Then he shifted tone. “Say, can you hear that rumbling all the way from your fancy office downtown? That’s the sound of the East Side project breaking ground. Told you I was serious.”
Lu Pingzhang gave a low chuckle.
“Great. I’ll have someone deliver the contract to you within the hour. If you don’t halt construction today, expect a summons in the mail.”
Hou Wude went quiet for a second.
When he spoke again, the joking tone was gone.
“Come on, Lu. No need to play the outsider. We’re in the same boat here. If I go down—you won’t walk away clean either.”
Lu Pingzhang’s voice was ice:
“I’ve said what I needed to say. Handle it however you like.”
Hou Wude snorted through the line.
“Doesn’t matter if I break ground or not. That green hat’s already on your head…”
Lu ended the call.
Then, without missing a beat, he added Hou Wude’s number to his blocklist.
“Set it up,” he said coldly. “Before the year’s out—I want either his men behind bars, or his body in a morgue.”
“We still have business with him,” Secretary Yin reminded softly. “The Eastside project is technically under his name. If he goes down, the creditors will be knocking on your door.”
Truth be told, having that guy around did save Lu Pingzhang a lot of trouble. If he wasn’t so damn irritating, keeping him around wouldn’t have been such a problem.
The issue was, he didn’t know how to behave. He was like a fly—constantly buzzing in your ear, just begging to be swatted.
Lu Pingzhang’s face was stormy.
Secretary Yin hesitated, then asked, “What about the resources we promised Miss Bai? The lead in that summer drama—are we still giving it to her?”
Lu Pingzhang glanced at the breaking headlines on his screen. Miss Bai hadn’t even bothered to change her outfit before heading into the hotel with Hou Wude, as if she wanted the paparazzi to recognize her.
‘Billionaire Gets Dumped: Actress Spotted with Rival Tycoon’
‘Power Struggle Turns Personal—JoySun’s CEO Humiliated in Public Love Triangle’
“Who the hell writes this garbage?” Lu Pingzhang growled. “If Qiao Jin sees this, I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again.”
Secretary Yin jumped in, “I’ll have Legal file a lawsuit right away… Based on how Mr. Qiao Jin sounded just now, I don’t think he’s seen it yet.”
Lu pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Then what are you waiting for? Go.”
But Lu Pingzhang wasn’t the only one affected by last night’s party. Zheng Rongguang wasn’t doing so hot either.
He had just gotten married last year. He didn’t bring his wife to the banquet—he brought a young model as his date. When he didn’t come home afterward, he told his wife he was working late at the office.
But that morning’s gossip photos had other ideas. One wide shot of Lu Pingzhang at the party clearly caught Zheng Rongguang and the model clinking glasses—smiling, arm in arm, right in the background.
His wife stormed into the office first thing, screaming at the front gate for over an hour before Qiao Jin stepped in and invited her to the reception lounge.
“Have some water,” Qiao Jin said gently, sitting across from her with a tea table between them. He poured her a glass, his tone calm and even. “Let’s try to cool off a little.”
Zheng Rongguang sat trembling beside Qiao Jin, his face scratched and welted.
Qiao Jin poured a second glass—for him this time.
“Let’s all take a breath,” he said warmly. “There are a lot of people in the office. If this space isn’t comfortable, we can move somewhere more private.”
“Right here is just fine,” the wife snapped. Her hair was half undone, lipstick smeared, eyes wide with fury.
“Embarrassed now, are you? Worried about saving face? Where was that energy when you were taking your pants off last night?”
“Sis-in-law,” Qiao Jin interrupted, still smiling pleasantly, “why don’t we hear what Mr. Zheng Rongguang has to say first? We’re all sitting here because we want to solve this, right?”
His voice was soft and measured, his expression mild—nothing like the usual womanizing execs she’d met. That contrast gave Zheng’s wife pause. Begrudgingly, she picked up the glass and took a sip.
Zheng Rongguang shot Qiao Jin a grateful look, face blotchy and red.
“After the meeting last night, I just went to a KTV bar for a bit. It got late and I didn’t go home… Lu—President Lu can vouch for me. He was there too. We were just playing cards.”
“After poker, then what?” his wife pressed. “Where’d you sleep? What room did you book? Don’t tell me you and President Lu shared a bed.”
Qiao Jin turned to look at Zheng Rongguang too, clearly waiting for the answer.
Damn it.
Zheng Rongguang could even see a hint of curiosity in Qiao Jin’s expression.
“We finished around six. Of course I went straight to work,” he said, throwing up his hands. “You think I don’t need time to shower in the morning? Need time to get to the office? I clocked in after eight—doesn’t the timeline check out?”
Qiao Jin thought for a moment and nodded. “That adds up.”
“You think I believe you?” his wife wasn’t buying any of it. She slapped the table. “Call President Lu. Let him confirm it.”
Qiao Jin nodded again and looked at Zheng.
Zheng Rongguang squirmed in his seat and shot Qiao Jin a pleading glance.
They locked eyes for a moment.
“Oh, right,” Qiao Jin suddenly turned to his wife. “President Lu is extremely busy. No need to bother him with a call.”
“No, we have to call,” she insisted. “Men don’t learn unless it hurts. If you don’t make that call right now, take the afternoon off—we’re going to the civil affairs bureau to get a divorce.”
Qiao Jin shrugged at Zheng, as if to say: Sorry, I can’t help you out of this one.
Zheng Rongguang clenched his jaw, trembling as he pulled out his phone. He hovered over Lu Pingzhang’s contact for a long time, fingers stiff. “Can we just not blow this up? You know who President Lu is. This is a tiny personal issue. Why drag him into it…”
“Are you calling or not?” she shot up from her seat, finger pointing in his face, clearly ready to throw hands again.
“I’m calling!” he snapped, gritting his teeth as he hit dial.
The phone rang a few times and was answered.
No one spoke at first. The entire reception room fell into silence.
Then his wife nudged him sharply. “Zheng. Speak.”
Zheng Rongguang swallowed hard. “Lu-ge…”
“Mhm.” Lu Pingzhang’s voice came through the speaker—calm and clipped, with no excess warmth. “Who are you with?”
“My wife,” Zheng Rongguang said miserably, nearly in tears. “Lu-ge, we were at the KTV last night, right? We played cards together, right?”
There was a long pause before Lu Pingzhang finally replied, “Mm.”
Qiao Jin thought he sounded a little off—his voice was lower and heavier than usual.
Zheng’s wife leaned in and whispered, “Ask what time you guys finished.”
Zheng Rongguang shot her a glare, then forced himself to speak again. “Uh… what time did we wrap up?”
Lu Pingzhang must have figured out he was being used as a human alibi. While he marveled at his own hard-earned freedom, he also felt a small, inexplicable pang of envy.
Why didn’t Qiao Jin ever check up on him like this?
The mental image of Qiao Jin giving him a jealous little interrogation popped into his mind—and amused him enough to make him chuckle softly.
Zheng Rongguang froze. “Lu-ge?”
Lu Pingzhang sounded like he was in a slightly better mood now. He replied with a question of his own, “Why don’t you tell me what time we finished?”
Zheng’s wife took two steps forward and leaned in toward Qiao Jin, whispering, “Are they coordinating their story right now?”
Qiao Jin nodded slightly and whispered back, “Yeah… looks like they’re syncing their stories.”
“Hm?” Lu Pingzhang’s voice paused on the other end. “Lao Zheng, is Qiao Jin next to you?”
Zheng Rongguang glanced at Qiao Jin and muttered, “…Yeah, he’s here.”
The room went dead silent for a long half-minute. No one said a word.
Qiao Jin stared at the cracked phone lying on the table—the screen had been damaged in the earlier scuffle.
Then Lu Pingzhang’s voice came through, cold and annoyed. “Zheng. Are you insane?”
Zheng Rongguang blinked in confusion, glanced at the phone, then at Qiao Jin.
“Put Qiao Jin on,” Lu snapped, clearly in a worse mood now.
Zheng Rongguang silently handed the phone over. Qiao Jin calmly ran a hand down the bridge of his nose and answered, “Hey, it’s me.”
“I know,” Lu said. “Why are you getting involved in this?”
“I’m mediating a company employee’s domestic dispute,” Qiao Jin replied with a deadpan tone. “Part of my job description.”
Lu paused for a second, then lowered his voice. “Don’t eat dinner at the office tonight. Come home early. Let’s eat together.”
“I thought you had plans tonight?” Qiao Jin asked.
Zheng’s wife stared at him. Zheng Rongguang stared at him too.
Qiao Jin cleared his throat and, before Lu could reply, said, “Sure thing, President Lu. But about Zheng—his wife says if he doesn’t come clean, she’s divorcing him.”
There was a beat of silence on the line. Lu Pingzhang suddenly felt like he was the one being interrogated.
Qiao Jin asked, “You guys played poker yesterday, right? What time did you wrap up?”
No answer.
Zheng’s stomach dropped. This was not going well.
After a while, Lu finally said, “Let me check with my assistant. I can’t really remember.”
Another pause.
“Little past four.”
Zheng Rongguang froze like a statue. Qiao Jin gave a soft “Mmm,” then said in a low voice into the mic, “That doesn’t match.”
“No way it doesn’t match,” Lu shot back, sounding more assertive now. “I was at the office by five. My computer log has the boot time. Ask my assistant if you don’t believe me.”
Yin, Lu’s secretary—who apparently had been nearby the whole time—immediately called out, “That’s right, Mr. Qiao Jin. I can confirm that.”
Qiao Jin found the whole thing a bit absurd, but also… strangely satisfying. His voice softened, almost pleased: “It’s Zheng Rongguang who’s off.”
“Well, that’s on him then,” Lu said, finally sounding like he could breathe again. He even laughed a little, completely unbothered. “If he’s really getting divorced, I’ll approve the time off. But hopefully not—it’s not easy locking down a wife these days.”
“Got it,” Qiao Jin replied. “I’ll pass that along.”
Not that he needed to—he had the phone on speaker the entire time.
As soon as the call ended, Zheng’s wife launched herself across the room. “Zheng, you lying bastard!”
She reached out to grab the few strands of hair he had left, missed, and went straight for his ear instead. “Let’s go. Right now. Divorce. I swear to God, if we don’t do it today, I’m the idiot!”
She hauled him up and dragged him straight out of the reception room, down the hallway, and toward the company exit. The girls at the front desk tried to stop her, but Qiao Jin just waved them off.
He followed them out the door, trying to calm things down as he walked. “Come on, let’s talk this through—no need to blow up…”
In the middle of his struggle, Zheng Rongguang shouted back at him, “Don’t forget the meeting this afternoon! Nanji Entertainment! We’re discussing industry partnerships and revenue splits!”
His wife flagged down a cab, grabbed him by the ear, and threw him in. The door slammed shut with a loud bang.
The taxi sped off. Qiao Jin watched it disappear down the street and gave an ambiguous tsk, then turned around and walked back inside with a smile.
A small crowd had gathered at the front desk to watch the show. As Qiao Jin entered, he looked over at his department and asked, “Anyone get it on video? If you recorded it, send me a copy.”
The crowd, which had been about to disperse, burst into laughter and scattered back to their desks, still chuckling.
