Hou Ning opened his eyes wide. “That sly fox is gorgeous. Li Xun has been shut away for six years. Tinder meets a flame — who can say for certain nothing will happen?” He said it while glancing sideways at Zhu Yun. She said: “Li Xun has very high standards when it comes to women.”
Hou Ning muttered: “Pot calling the kettle black.”
Zhu Yun looked at him for two seconds, then suddenly moved closer.
Hou Ning startled. He instinctively backed away, until he was against the wall with nowhere left to go.
He suddenly noticed that Zhu Yun’s eyelashes were very long — not deep black, but brownish-grey, fine and pointed. Her cheeks looked soft, her skin smooth and fine-pored. He caught a faint fragrance from her, and though she was dressed basically the same as Feiyang’s other employees — an ordinary T-shirt, barely any effort put into her appearance — her scent was ten thousand times more pleasant than theirs, and far better than the heavy perfume Wu Zhen had been wearing.
Zhu Yun said: “Li Xun only likes two types of women: the ‘naive type’ and the ‘even more naive type.’ Wu Zhen is neither.”
Hou Ning, uncomfortable with the proximity, shoved her away, face red as an apple.
“Then he definitely doesn’t like you!”
Zhu Yun smiled faintly and told Hou Ning to hurry up and pack his things.
When Hou Ning finished and looked up, he saw Zhu Yun leaning against the staircase railing, lost in thought, still with a trace of worry on her face. He assumed she was still fretting about whether everything would go smoothly, and said: “Don’t stress — it absolutely won’t be found out.”
Zhu Yun looked at him. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
Hou Ning: “Then what are you worried about?”
She didn’t answer. They headed back out together, and just as they were about to enter the ballroom, she suddenly said: “Wu Zhen is Gao Jianhong’s wife.”
Hou Ning: “So?”
Zhu Yun: “They’ve only been married a little over a year.”
Hou Ning looked ahead into the ballroom. The Jili Company contingent was chatting warmly with the government officials. Wu Zhen had her arm in Gao Jianhong’s, and seemingly someone had made a joke, because her face was lightly flushed — and she glanced at Gao Jianhong with an expression full of happiness.
“Treacherous women, faithless performers,” Hou Ning said indifferently. “She’s both — and she gets to feel good about it? Blame your old classmate for being so blind.”
Zhu Yun watched Gao Jianhong from a distance. Unlike Fang Zhijing and Wu Zhen, he was barely smiling. That expression was one Zhu Yun knew well — it was the same look they all had back when the three of them were grinding on a project together. But now, surrounded by so many people, he was the only one with that look on his face. Set against all the smiling faces around him, his complexion seemed especially pale.
---
The private contest played out step by step, according to plan.
Li Xun would go out from time to time to meet with Wu Zhen, though he didn’t seem especially invested in it. More often than not, once he reached a stopping point in his work, he’d close the laptop lid, light a cigarette, and head out — going through the motions, nothing more.
His conversations with Wu Zhen had little substance either. Li Xun’s every other sentence was a crude joke. Wu Zhen found this man reasonably good-looking but found his attitude boorish and his mind seemingly occupied by nothing worthwhile. She endured the interactions patiently, pushing back against his advances without letting him get too close.
After a while, Li Xun asked Zhu Yun to send him Invincible Warrior‘s update materials and internal data. Zhu Yun knew the moment was probably drawing near.
One night, Li Xun came back to the office very late, looking terrible.
He returned without a word, collapsed onto the office sofa, and fell asleep.
Only Zhu Yun and Hou Ning were still at the office by that hour. Like Li Xun, Hou Ning had nowhere to go back to — from the day he started, he had been sleeping at the office alongside Li Xun, makeshift bedding and all.
“Done. He took the bait — she took the USB drive,” Hou Ning said. “Do you want me to send you today’s recording?”
“Don’t bother.”
“Really don’t want it?” Hou Ning said with a meaningful look. “Today’s content is pretty explosive.”
“What kind of content?”
Hou Ning curved his lips into a smile. “Have a listen yourself. All I’ll say is: heaven’s justice moves in cycles, and karma always comes around.”
While he was transferring the file, Zhu Yun got up to turn off the lights. She wanted Li Xun to be able to sleep more soundly, but Hou Ning called her back. “If you turn the lights off now, he’ll wake up. He’s not used to complete darkness.” Hou Ning was still at his computer, not looking up as he spoke.
Zhu Yun asked: “Why?”
“Why?” Hou Ning’s hands on the keyboard went still. He looked up. “Because in prison, the lights are on all the time.”
He looked at her: “You didn’t know that prison lights stay on twenty-four hours?”
Zhu Yun shook her head. Hou Ning made a dismissive sound. “No common sense. You can turn off the main lights — just leave the small lamp on.”
Zhu Yun followed his advice: she turned the small lamp on and switched off the overhead light.
She turned around and looked at Li Xun, lying on the sofa. The small lamp was dim, and its amber glow made the late-night office feel, for a moment, warm and intimate…
Or perhaps that was only her imagination.
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