During the lunch break, Tao Xinrou deliberately sat across from Fang Rong.
"Fang Rong, I really owe you this time. If you hadn't produced the surveillance footage in time, I never would have cleared my name." She clasped her hands together, eyes shining.
The legendary business elite who could stir up storms was currently burying his head in his meal of two meat dishes and one vegetable on his tray.
Fang Rong looked up at her, startled, then broke into a slightly naive smile. "No need to thank me. I just happened to notice something unusual on the surveillance, and I was responsible for patrolling that area. Besides, if you hadn't pointed it out, I wouldn't have thought to do it. It was nothing, don't worry about it."
"But... how did you get real-time surveillance footage? Isn't that something only the security department has?" Tao Xinrou asked curiously.
"Well..." Fang Rong coughed as if choked. "Since I had a patrol task that day, I borrowed a tablet from a security colleague just in case. It came in handy."
He said it lightly, but Tao Xinrou clearly remembered that tablet wasn't standard security department equipment.
Unless...
She quietly studied his face.
He was now meticulously picking out the meat shreds from the green peppers. The fan in the cafeteria lifted a strand of his bangs, revealing a smooth forehead, making him look even more like a fresh graduate.
But in her mind, the image of this man in a high-end custom suit, sitting in a president's chair with a cold demeanor, lingered.
Wait, could he already be secretly wielding presidential authority?
This man was far more unfathomable than she had imagined.
The table fell silent for a moment, broken only by the chatter of colleagues nearby.
Just then, a message came through in the group chat: "Tao Xinrou, Fang Rong, take the hotel's gift and go apologize to Miss Lin in person."
Both their phones rang simultaneously.
"Looks like we have to make a trip this afternoon," Fang Rong said.
*
At two in the afternoon, they met at the hotel entrance.
Tao Xinrou immediately spotted the hotel's standard white car and the calm temporary driver in the driver's seat.
Fang Rong rolled down the window and smiled at her. "Get in."
But Tao Xinrou froze, gift bag in hand, at a loss.
"Maybe I should drive?" she asked.
"It's a long way. I'll drive," Fang Rong said, not giving her a chance.
Tao Xinrou was even more terrified. Help, the president himself is driving me—this is truly "the president drives, she rides."
But she had to act calm, smiling as she got into the passenger seat, repeating to herself: He's just a regular colleague, just a regular colleague, just a regular colleague.
Yet her stiff body betrayed her—her hands were primly placed on her knees.
The car drove smoothly toward the suburbs.
Fang Rong glanced at her and asked, "Do you get carsick?"
"No," Tao Xinrou said, staring straight ahead.
"Then why... are you sitting so rigidly?"
Ah, was it that obvious?
Her mind raced. "Ah, that's because... it's the professional demeanor of a hotel service worker."
"Oh? Do colleagues need professional demeanor too?"
"Of course. Isn't this work hours?"
Tao Xinrou wept inwardly. It was precisely because he was the boss that she was scared.
"Is that so? But I feel like you're afraid of me."
Tao Xinrou gripped her clothes, her heart skipping a beat. "Afraid of you? What's there to be afraid of? You're just... a regular colleague, haha." She quickly averted her gaze.
"Really? But I always feel like you speak to me especially... carefully," Fang Rong chose his words.
Embarrassed, Tao Xinrou quickly explained, "You're overthinking it! That's just... a habit from work. In the hotel service industry, we emphasize etiquette and distance. Also, I'm a bit slow to warm up; it takes time to get familiar with someone."
"Is that so?" Fang Rong laughed. "But we're not just colleagues—we're also landlord and tenant. By that logic, we shouldn't be unfamiliar, right?"
Tao Xinrou was momentarily speechless.
Familiar, yes, but not too familiar?
But when the president expressed an opinion, could she say no?
Three seconds later, she declared solemnly, "You're right. I'll reflect on that."
Fang Rong chuckled softly and smoothly changed the subject. "Speaking of which, it was quite coincidental that I rented your house. The agent recommended several places, but yours was closest to the hotel, had a suitable layout, and fit the budget. I made the decision as soon as I saw it."
"Is that so? That's great. We're honored that you're satisfied with our house."
Ying Jingsheng: ...
His landlord was really strange.
The conversation died down, and the car fell silent. After another half hour, they arrived at Lin Zhizhi's villa.