His words were like ice water splashed on the table, instantly freezing the atmosphere.
Cen Jin maintained her smile with pressed lips, saying nothing.
Chai Si Ming was the first to break the deadlock: “We were supposed to discuss business, how did this turn into a blind date?”
Zhou Sui An operated his phone for a moment, then put it down as if placing a bet in a game. His elbow then propped on the table: “I’ve deleted the repost. Miss Cen, aren’t you going to return this favor?”
Cen Jin smiled faintly: “I just didn’t expect your price would take this form.”
Zhou Sui An said carelessly: “It’s all private settlement, what’s the difference?”
This was indeed the most efficient and easiest solution, but also sufficiently humiliating. A two-second flash of helpless emptiness crossed Cen Jin’s heart, but she finally nodded: “Fine, you pick the place.”
Seeing this, Chai Si Ming teased: “Sui An, have you taken a fancy to our beautiful Cen?”
Zhou Sui An remained silent, picking up his water glass to drink.
Chai Si Ming continued: “But Cen Jin has a partner now.”
Zhou Sui An lifted his eyes.
Cen Jin said smoothly: “I happened to be dropping him off at school today.”
“Also teaching at our school?” Zhou Sui An set down his glass.
Chai Si Ming: “He’s a student, and a very outstanding one.”
Zhou Sui An’s eyebrows lifted slightly, his gaze toward Cen Jin taking on another layer of meaning. Cen Jin could immediately read this kind of adult-only analysis and definition – somewhat offensive, but he didn’t mind at all, even seeming to provoke deliberately.
“Is Miss Cen strict with discipline?” Zhou Sui An accepted the coffee from the server: “Surely your boyfriend wouldn’t mind just a meal.”
Cen Jin curved her lips, with cold hostility: “Is Professor Zhou strict with discipline?”
Zhou Sui An laughed slightly: “I live alone.” Whether intentional or not, his suggestion was ambiguous.
Chai Si Ming turned his head and laughed, saying unable to bear it: “Enough, Sui An. Just have a meal, let this matter pass, don’t do this, don’t make things difficult for my old classmate.”
Zhou Sui An put both hands in his pockets, his posture becoming more casual.
―
This was the first time since changing careers that Cen Jin missed her previous creative work days.
At least then she didn’t have to face so many messy people or situations, unable to vent her frustration. Though some clients then were also frivolous in words and actions, everyone in the industry still had to maintain some face.
But Zhou Sui An was different. He was like someone from a grey area, completely unafraid to make her experience these subtle but concrete forms of disrespect and mockery. She could only endure.
A typical cultured scoundrel.
Walking silently beside Zhou Sui An, Cen Jin was mentally and physically repulsed, but she had no choice – she had to repay this favor.
After all, her entrepreneurship plan was set, and she would likely have to deal with all kinds of KOLs in the future. The internet was connected like spider silk, and industry reputation was crucial.
The early winter wind was bitingly cold, withered leaves spinning chaotically in mid-air like blind butterflies, caught in their fall by a hand.
The owner of the hand asked: “You know what kind of leaf this is, right?”
Cen Jin glanced at it: “Chinese parasol tree.”
Zhou Sui An said: “The parasol tree symbolized loyalty in ancient times.”
“Is that so.” Cen Jin responded neutrally.
Zhou Sui An casually tossed away the leaf: “You’re my fellow alumnus?”
“Yes.”
“Same major as Chai Si Ming?”
“Mm.”
“How old are you?”
Cen Jin’s brows furrowed slightly: “Professor Zhou seems to be asking a bit too much.”
“Too much?” Zhou Sui An smiled: “This is already too much? What will we talk about during lunch, just eat?”
Cen Jin was silent for a moment, then said directly: “Do you have something against me? If it’s because of the copyright infringement, I can apologize again on behalf of the company. Your photography clip was provided by the brand side, we didn’t intentionally steal it.”
Zhou Sui An looked over, his eyes pitch black: “If I had something against you, I wouldn’t even consider giving a price.”
Cen Jin held his gaze: “But your current approach feels more like humiliation. This isn’t the nature of my work.”
“What nature?”
“Like I’m being ‘sold.'” Cen Jin didn’t mince words.
Zhou Sui An was amused: “I knew another Account Manager before who often had private meals with people. Why isn’t it okay with me?”
“It’s not about the meal,” Cen Jin replied: “It’s your attitude toward me. I don’t know if this is how you usually communicate, but I’m not comfortable with it. To put it bluntly, it’s workplace harassment. I’d rather you just name your price, and we can make a clean exchange.”
Zhou Sui An’s tone was flat, seeming unconcerned: “Is that so? No wonder my interpersonal relationships are so poor, I can only talk to plants.”
His lukewarm response didn’t anger Cen Jin. She concluded: “So I am human, not a plant.”
Zhou Sui An slowly revealed a smile. His gaunt face and extremely pale complexion made this smile appear harmless: “But you’re like a flower.”
Cen Jin took a cold breath, her patience at its limit: “Thanks for the compliment.”