Ying Jingsheng's eyes lit up. It seemed that Ying Huaishan's leading role was even more confirmed.
"We're still investigating the specifics. President Ying, Supervisor Ying has been asking me lately when you'll move back home?"
Ying Jingsheng was interrupted by Wang Anran's sudden shift in topic. He paused for a moment before saying, "Just tell him I still have some leads to follow up on outside and need to stay nearby. It's more convenient to live near the hotel. I won't be going home for now."
Wang Anran hesitated, then asked cautiously, "Should I prepare a more suitable apartment for you? After all, the current place..."
"No," Ying Jingsheng cut him off. "It's fine here. It won't attract attention. Just focus on what needs to be investigated."
"Okay, President Ying."
But as soon as Wang Anran hung up, Ying Huaijin called.
"Jingsheng, Anran said you've been staying near the hotel lately? Why aren't you coming home?"
Ying Jingsheng hadn't expected his father to call directly. He collected himself and said, "Dad, I've just taken over the hotel. There are many things I need to handle personally. Staying here makes it easier to deal with emergencies at any time."
There was a clear sigh on the other end of the line. "Your grandfather also heard about your uncle hiring you as hotel manager. Though it came suddenly and is a bit unusual, after careful consideration, he thinks it's not a bad thing. Jingsheng, your grandfather told you before—your uncle has run things for many years. Don't take everything on yourself. Remember, your family is still here."
Ying Jingsheng's fingers tightened around his phone. He understood—this heavy concern came with the family's support, but it also brought a complex bitterness to his heart. He had to do this well.
"Dad, I understand. You and Grandpa don't need to worry. I'll handle it."
*
The day she received the good news about being allowed into the archives, Tao Xinrou was in an exceptionally good mood.
The sky was bluer, the grass greener, and even Li Meili seemed pleasing to the eye.
After thinking it over, she attributed all this to Ying Jingsheng.
So she decided to treat him to a meal.
XR: President Ying
XR: Thank you for letting me join the project team! To show my gratitude, I'd like to treat you to dinner. Are you free tonight?
After sending the message, Tao Xinrou went back to work, thinking Ying Jingsheng wouldn't reply so soon.
But just as she put down her phone, it vibrated.
Sheng: No need for dinner. Just do your work well.
XR: How can that be? I insist on treating you. You can order whatever you want, as long as it's within 50 yuan per person!
Sheng: 50 yuan per person?
XR: Yes! I haven't gotten this month's salary yet. 50 is already a huge amount. If you're not satisfied, I can add 10 more—60! No more!
After sending this, Tao Xinrou saw the chat field alternating between "typing..." and just showing his name. Clearly, Ying Jingsheng was typing and deleting.
She wondered if she had been too stingy, leaving him at a loss for words.
But her budget was limited. Besides, the president had been living at her house for almost three months now. She had upgraded all the software and hardware at home, and she was about to start dipping into her fixed assets, not just liquid assets.
Tao Xinrou watched her savings dwindle, her heart bleeding.
After a long while, there was still no response from Ying Jingsheng. Tao Xinrou couldn't sit still. Since she had already offered to treat him, she couldn't lose face. She sent a few more messages.
XR: How about 70?
XR: 80?
XR: 90?
XR: No more! Any more and I'll have to mooch off the company!
Sheng: No need.
Ying Jingsheng finally sent three words.
What did "no need" mean? That she didn't have to treat? That he was refusing? Or that he didn't want a bribe and was drawing a line?
Sheng: I'm afraid you'll go broke.
Tao Xinrou's heart sank.
Great, it seemed the president was rejecting her.
As she was thinking how to reply, Ying Jingsheng sent another message.
Sheng: So I'll treat.
XR: !!!
*
Just after work, Tao Xinrou went to wait for Ying Jingsheng near the hotel.
This was technically their first date.
No, no, no—not a date. A thank-you meal!
Tao Xinrou frantically corrected herself in her mind, but her face still flushed uncontrollably.
She stood at the appointed intersection, watching the traffic, when she suddenly realized she hadn't told her mother she wouldn't be home for dinner.
Just as she was thinking of sending a message, her phone rang.