‌Chapter 40: Lady Chatterley's Lover

Zhao Yalin gasped for air, her throat tightening under Ye Chenghuan's predatory stare.

He blinked, the intensity dissolving into a roguish grin. "Relax. Just a joke."

"Not funny," she rasped, clawing at her collar as oxygen thinned. Shadows nibbled at her vision.

Ye Chenghuan staggered up, belt dangling from his fingers. "Strangle me. Buy yourself time."

Zhao Yalin froze. "Why…?"

"Expendable me versus indispensable you."

Years of armored resolve cracked. She lunged, burying her face in his chest. Tears soaked his shirt.

Ding.

The doors groaned open. A crowd gaped—employees, firefighters, smartphones raised.

Noon sunlight dappled the cafeteria. Zhao Yalin stabbed congealed noodles, chopsticks trembling.

Ye Chenghuan plopped down opposite her. "Feeling better?"

A blush crept up her neck. She nodded.

"Not eating?"

"Appetite's dead."

"Food? Or me?"

"Both."

He devoured his meal, slid a resignation letter across the table.

Her chopsticks clattered. "What's this?"

"You fired me. Saving us both the awkwardness."

Crinkle. Tear. Shred. "Denied."

"Haoqing's not a playground. Hit the sales target."

"A billion? Think I'm Li Ka-shing?"

"Fail, and you stay."

Zhu Lingling cornered him at the exit, ponytail quivering. "Another scolding from Ice Queen?"

"Jealous, Little Treasure?"

She swatted his arm. "Who's your 'treasure'?"

"The office goldfish."

"A goddess came thrice today. Waiting in your office."

The woman at his desk turned, sunlight gilding chestnut waves. A dog-eared Lady Chatterley's Lover lay open.

"Miss Chu?" Ye Chenghuan recognized China's prime-time anchor.

Chu Wenxuan stood, white bodycon dress hugging lethal curves. "Dinner. Yue Lu Villa. Six sharp."

"Poison included?"

Her laugh tinkled. "Would that stop you?"

Tang Yan glanced up from spreadsheets. "Zhou Jie's out. Migraine."

Ye Chenghuan stared at the vacant chair. Instinct prickled—the same that once dodged sniper fire.

Chu's jasmine perfume lingered.

Click. His screensaver died—half-finished beach invasion game frozen mid-carnage.

At 5:59 PM, Chu Wenxuan uncorked aged baijiu. "I want your story. The real one—orphan soldier, corporate phantom, Lin Peishan's paper husband."

Ye Chenghuan choked on duck blood soup. "Reporter or stalker?"

"Both." She slid a USB across red lacquer. "Shen Dongze's men torching Jianghai's docks. Your wife's rivals would pay dearly."

He pocketed the drive. "Your angle?"

"Survival." Her stiletto traced his calf. "Same as yours."

Paparazzi flashes erupted outside. Chu pressed closer, lips brushing his ear: "Smile, darling. Our ratings depend on it."

Zhu Lingling snapped a chopstick watching them leave. "Men!"

Ye Chenghuan's phone buzzed—a pixelated beach game notification.

Player 2 joined: GhostKiller_86

He deleted the app, tasting blood in the chili-laced air.