Chapter 15
The next morning, Feng Jin woke up naturally, her internal clock perfectly on time.
After washing up, her makeup was impeccable, and she wore her usual black uniform. The finely tailored suit hugged her figure just right, outlining her silhouette with a strict yet elegant grace.
After breakfast, she carried her luggage out of the villa. A black business car was already waiting outside. The driver respectfully took her suitcase, waited for her to be seated, then closed the door and placed the luggage in the trunk.
When the car arrived at the company building, Feng Jin checked the time—twenty-five minutes before the meeting.
She took the private elevator up to her office. Jiang Suliu entered shortly after, holding several documents.
"Good morning, President."
"Morning."
"These are the documents requiring your signature today. All department heads have been notified." He placed the files neatly on her desk, with the front pages facing her for easy review.
There weren't many documents—mostly departmental reimbursement requests. Feng Jin skimmed through them quickly, and seeing no issues, signed her name at the bottom.
When she finished, she looked up. "What time is it now?"
"Six minutes until the meeting."
"Alright. Let's go."
By the time they arrived at the conference room, all the senior managers were already present. Jiang Suliu took the first available seat near the end of the table, ready to take minutes.
As usual, Feng Jin gave a brief opening. The weekly company meeting proceeded as normal: each department manager reported on last week's achievements, this week's plans, current issues, and suggestions.
During the meeting, the head of finance raised concerns about the high budget for the Kangkais Group collaboration. Feng Jin listened attentively, then pointed out a flaw in his analysis and offered a detailed correction.
The finance head flushed with embarrassment and quickly promised to present a more accurate budget within the week.
Scenes like this were common in Feng Jin's meetings. The executives were used to her decisive judgment and rigorous standards—and genuinely admired her for it. Despite internal disagreements among the company's shareholders, Sheng'an remained stable. Feng Jin had become the central force of cohesion. The management had watched her climb to this position step by step. While minor politics existed, no one dared sabotage things when it mattered.
After all, jobs were easy to find, but a boss who truly earned respect was rare. Especially one who treated her staff well. No one wanted to throw away a promising future.
When the meeting concluded, Feng Jin left the room. Jiang Suliu saved the meeting minutes onto a USB stick and followed.
"President, your flight departs in thirty minutes. The driver is already waiting downstairs."
"Got it."
They took the elevator directly to the ground floor. Jiang Suliu, carrying the briefcase, opened the car door for Feng Jin and respectfully waited as she got in before taking his own seat up front.
The car drove smoothly toward the airport.
While waiting to board, Feng Jin looked a little fatigued. She took the hot water Jiang Suliu handed her, drank a few sips, and gradually recovered.
When it was time, they walked through the private passageway.
As they boarded the plane, a beautiful flight attendant took Jiang Suliu's luggage and placed it in the first-class storage compartment.
"If you need anything from your luggage during the flight, just press the call button."
"Thank you."
First-class was only a third full, offering a quiet and private space. Though seats were arranged in pairs, adjustable dividers ensured privacy.
The flight to New York would have no night—nearly fifteen hours long. Jet lag was unavoidable, so Feng Jin planned to rest.
"Secretary Jiang, how soon will the Kangkais collaboration proposal be ready?"
"It's in the final stages—half a day more."
"Good. Make sure you rest, too."
"Understood."
Feng Jin raised the divider and changed out of her suit into sleepwear.
Her pajamas were a deep gold shade, a custom design co-branded between the airline and an Italian lingerie brand—elegantly styled with a touch of palatial flair. Luxurious yet discreet, perfectly appropriate for public view. She didn't remove her undergarments, in case she needed to review files from the USB later.
Once dressed, she lowered the divider.
Jiang Suliu was seated sideways, a laptop in front of him, fingers poised over the keyboard as if absorbed in work.
"Secretary Jiang, wake me in three hours."
He paused, looked up at her, and replied, "Yes, President."
Feng Jin took out an eye mask and put it on. To ensure an undisturbed rest, she also wore noise-cancelling headphones before closing her eyes.
Time passed.
Jiang Suliu eventually stopped typing, staring blankly at the screen filled with mistyped words. He let out a quiet sigh and began deleting them one by one, then reread the proposal from the top.
He wasn't sleepy. The workload wasn't unusually heavy.
But this time, something felt different.
The cabin was brightly lit. The only sound was the faint tapping of keys.
Feng Jin drifted between sleep and wakefulness. She hadn't truly rested. In her dream, she was a child again.
Her mother's sudden death had been too much to bear. And then Chu Mingyu appeared—like light cutting through the endless cold.
Childhood friends. Inseparable companions…
A nightmare.
Jiang Suliu closed his laptop and walked over. Without hesitation, he gently removed her headphones.
"President… President, please wake up."
Faintly, she heard a voice—calm and cool, oddly familiar. She frowned slightly, consciousness returning as she reached for her eye mask.
But a cool hand stopped her.
"Please wait."
She heard the curtain slide shut. Realizing it was just her secretary, Feng Jin relaxed.
She removed the mask. Once her eyes adjusted, she opened them slowly.
The first thing she saw were Jiang Suliu's striking eyes—foxlike and captivating, yet icy. Without his glasses, the contrast between seduction and aloofness created a strange, almost ethereal beauty. Feng Jin quickly composed herself. She was used to his exceptional looks and the understated elegance instilled by his privileged upbringing.
"President, are you alright?" There was a trace of concern in his voice.
"I'm fine." She asked, "What time is it now?"
"Twelve ten, Beijing time." He stood straight and handed her a glass of water. "Please drink this first."
After she looked more composed, Jiang Suliu said, "President, you're not looking well. This level of work intensity isn't sustainable."
"I know. My doctor says the same." She passed him the glass. Without her suit, her expression had softened. "I've never slept well. I'm used to it."
"If you don't mind, I can give you a neck massage to help you sleep better." He froze after the words escaped—but kept his expression neutral.
Feng Jin looked up and smiled slightly. "Next time."
Neither a rejection nor acceptance. The atmosphere had shifted slightly.
Jiang Suliu nodded and returned to his seat.
Feng Jin pressed the call button. A flight attendant arrived shortly.
"Hello, how can I help you?"
"Please bring me my luggage. Thank you."
The flight attendant glanced at the seat number and smiled. "Of course. One moment, please."
When she returned, Feng Jin took her suitcase, retrieved a set of clothes, and headed to the restroom.
First class had shower facilities, with a five-minute limit per person—just enough.
Under the warm stream of water, Feng Jin felt revitalized.
She thought about her upcoming meeting in New York. Her martial arts instructor would likely test her fitness again—then sigh in disappointment. He was a retired American soldier, wounded in service. A cheerful man, but strict in training.
Looking down at the faint calluses on her palms, she recalled her training. Though busy with company affairs now, the foundation it gave her still benefited her health.
She dried off, changed into a relaxed shirt and trousers, and twisted her hair into a familiar knot.
Back at her seat, the flight attendant approached again—it was mealtime.
Feng Jin only ordered vegetable porridge; she wasn't very hungry. Jiang Suliu had a Western meal.
They sat face to face.
Feng Jin happened to glance up and saw the elegance in Jiang Suliu's dining manner. Every movement was graceful.
She hadn't felt like eating—but watching him, she took a few more bites. Then she set down her spoon and simply watched him, as if waiting for him to finish.
Her gaze wasn't intense, even a bit indifferent—but it made Jiang Suliu's movements stiffen, his actions becoming mechanical.
Finally, he set down his utensils and exhaled quietly, as if relieved.
Then, a perfectly folded napkin appeared in front of him.