Volume One, Chapter 12: I Can Still Warm the Bed

The office door was knocked on again before long.

Wan Yan thought the two of them had finally settled their quarrel.

He looked up, ready to scold, but saw a mischievous head slowly peek inside, followed by Lu Chaoxi’s sweet, soft voice.

“President Wan, may I apply to be your assistant?”

Wan Yan’s mouth twitched subtly, then he lowered his head and continued sorting through documents. “Go apply at the HR department.”

Lu Chaoxi stepped inside and shut the door with a playful smile. “As family, I should be able to take the back door, right?”

Wan Yan calmly closed the file and looked at her. “There is no back door. I treat everyone equally.”

“I can serve tea, make coffee, even give shoulder massages, President Wan,” she said, crouching by the desk, clinging to its edge, her tone both pitiful and a little tempting.

Her use of “President Wan” felt like claws scratching at his heart.

Wan Yan quickly looked away, replying sharply, “There are plenty of people like that in the company. Why would I waste money hiring you?”

Lu Chaoxi’s eyes darted, then she stood and walked to his side, clearing her throat seriously before leaning close to whisper in his ear.

“I can warm the bed too.”

Wan Yan’s eyelashes fluttered at the words, then he snapped angrily, “Lu Chaoxi, get out!”

“Thank you, President Wan!” she said, knowing this was his way of agreeing to hire her as assistant.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a loud kiss, stealing another moment of intimacy.

Grinning like a sycophant, she wiped the lipstick off his face. “Where’s my office?”

Wan Yan brushed her hand away. “Assistants don’t get offices. Go find Song Yin and have him arrange something.”

Hearing the clear hint to leave, Lu Chaoxi pretended not to understand.

She ran across, spread her arms measuring space, and pointed to a corner with satisfaction. “I’ll be here!”

“No,” Wan Yan said firmly.

Despite his refusal, Lu Chaoxi happily went out to make arrangements.

“I’m moving desks right now, ready to serve President Wan at all times!”

Wan Yan laughed bitterly, loosening his tie and putting down his pen, truly exasperated.

He was angry that he wasn’t angry.

The desk phone rang, and Wan Yan pressed the receiver with a venting tone.

“Speak!”

“Sir, a secretary for Mr. Zhi Zheng wants to see you.”

Wan Yan immediately recalled the man interested in Lu Chaoxi at last night’s banquet when Song Yin mentioned the name.

His face cold, he said, “Send him in.”

Zhi Zheng’s secretary entered and placed a contract on the desk.

“Mr. Zhi wants to cooperate with Lu Corporation, investing in their newly developed processor.”

Wan Yan remained composed and unhurried. “Lu Corporation doesn’t need investment.”

The secretary was blunt. “Lu Corporation doesn’t, but President Wan does. Mr. Zhi can inject capital into Lu Corporation on the condition of spending one night with your wife.”

Wan Yan’s smile stiffened for a moment, his breathing unchanged.

“That deal seems unfavorable to me. I don’t think I can cooperate with Mr. Zhi.”

The secretary persisted. “Name your price, President Wan.”

Leaning back calmly, Wan Yan made a bold demand. “I want as much as Mr. Zhi’s total assets.”

Seeing Wan Yan’s clear refusal, the secretary said no more and left a business card for Zhi Zheng.

“If you change your mind, contact us anytime. Mr. Zhi is available 24/7.”

Wan Yan didn’t even glance at it. The secretary stepped back and opened the office door to leave.

Just then, Lu Chaoxi struggled to carry an office chair and was puzzled on seeing a strange face at the door.

“Assistant Lu, make some coffee and come in.”

Wan Yan frowned at the secretary’s careless words.

The novel new title made Lu Chaoxi’s eyes light up; she dropped the chair and went to make coffee at once.

Being her first time, she dawdled half an hour before bringing in a poorly presented cup, having left the break room in a mess.

Her workspace had already been tidied and patiently awaited her in the corner.

“This is the best cup I’ve made! You have to try it.”

Lu Chaoxi placed the coffee before Wan Yan, wringing her hands, eager for him to take a sip.

Wan Yan hadn’t expected her to actually brew coffee; his expression was no better than before.

He pushed the cup aside. “I’m not drinking it.”

“Come on!” Lu Chaoxi pleaded, pushing the coffee back. “I failed many times before making this one. Just one sip!”

Faced with such persistence, Wan Yan’s indifferent reply deflated her.

“Either resign or take the coffee away. Your choice.”

Clearly, Lu Chaoxi chose the latter.

“Is my cooking really that inedible?”

Both yesterday’s cake and today’s coffee were treated by Wan Yan as if they were disasters.

As she left with the coffee, she muttered, unwilling to accept it was her skill at fault.

After this little episode, Wan Yan focused entirely on work, not even noticing when Lu Chaoxi returned.

As a nominal assistant, her desk was impeccably clean, with only a pen and notebook symbolically placed—no computer provided.

Lu Chaoxi, bored, pouted and laid the pen horizontally across her philtrum, staring at Wan Yan in a daze.

He remained cold as ever, but his earnestness softened the lines of his face considerably.

Watching his familiar every movement, Lu Chaoxi felt a long-lost sensation.

It was as if they hadn’t shared such a quiet, peaceful space together in a long time.

She grew curious about what had happened during those lost two years.

Raising her pen, she measured his proportions in the air and began sketching his outline in the notebook.

Studying his expressions carefully, she adjusted her lines accordingly.

On an ordinary afternoon, in a quiet office, Lu Chaoxi poured her love onto the paper—visible to all.

When the neon lights outside flickered on, Wan Yan finished the last of his work.

As usual, he grabbed his coat and headed out. At the door, his eyes caught sight of the figure in the corner.

Only then did he remember Lu Chaoxi’s presence.

She was sound asleep, head resting on the desk, the pen in her hand having drawn several black lines across her face.

Compelled by some impulse, Wan Yan walked over to the corner and picked up the conspicuous notebook on the desk.

He stared at the drawings for a long time, then shifted his gaze back to Lu Chaoxi.

The scene overlapped with a memory from high school recess, as if copied and pasted.

Wan Yan felt a profound sense of familiarity.

Suddenly awakened from a dream, the notebook lay quietly beside Lu Chaoxi’s hand.

The slowly closing door signaled Wan Yan’s departure.

Faster than her thoughts, Lu Chaoxi reacted and chased after him.