Volume One, Chapter 15: The Star of Misfortune
Song Qingyu had always been a light sleeper. Because of the old lady’s situation, she found herself plagued by insomnia once more. Tossing and turning in bed, unable to fall asleep, she finally got up and went to the game room.
Pei Jingmo, who always slept with one ear alert, heard the faint sound as Song Qingyu gently opened the door. He stepped out and saw light spilling from the crack beneath the game room door. Quietly pushing it open, he found Song Qingyu sitting in front of the computer, the screen aglow with the game interface of “The Interpreter.”
Without betraying any emotion, he returned to his room and dialed He Shubai. He Shubai, once the chief secretary of the Tianqi Group, had become Pei Jingmo’s secretary after Gu Mubai’s accident.
“Notify the head of the gaming platform: this time, the game development theme will be story-driven. Dream Builder Studio’s ‘The Interpreter’ is an excellent example.”
—
In the days that followed, Song Qingyu noticed that Pei Jingmo was exceptionally busy. He was often out from dawn until late at night. Xie Liuzheng video-called, wanting to meet Pei Jingmo, but never got the chance.
“Hmph, at this rate you’d think he was the CEO of some multinational conglomerate. Speaking of conglomerates, have you heard the latest gossip about Tianqi Group?”
Song Qingyu was completely absorbed in her game and had little time for gossip. “What gossip?”
“The previous president of Tianqi Group, Gu Mubai, was hospitalized after a car accident. Now his younger brother, Gu Yuandong, is taking over.”
On the other end of the video call, Xie Liuzheng was lounging with a face mask on, doing yoga as she spoke. “Some people say the Gu family has lost their minds—Gu Yuandong is nothing but a roughneck soldier who only knows how to handle guns and fight wars. How could he possibly manage a vast conglomerate worth billions?”
“They even said that after Gu Mubai’s accident, the Gu family’s stock plummeted. If Gu Yuandong can’t handle the pressure, those shareholders will eat him alive. But guess what happened?”
Playing along, Song Qingyu asked, “What?”
“Apparently, Gu Yuandong stormed into the boardroom with a group of men in black. He gave those stuffy old men a piece of his mind, saying that whether you’re managing an army or a corporation, it’s all about leadership, and there’s nothing he can’t manage.”
Song Qingyu was astonished. “He’s that formidable?”
“Formidable is an understatement! I heard his face was disfigured by an explosion during a mission. He’s carried a gun, taken lives—just sitting there, he gives off an aura of death. Who would dare cross him?”
“Not to mention, he’s a prince of Beijing society! Everyone shows him respect.”
Song Qingyu nodded in agreement.
Xie Liuzheng went on, “After that, he shook up the entire Tianqi Group. Now the whole company is shrouded in anxiety—everyone’s on edge.”
Listening to the gossip, Song Qingyu made her way to the kitchen. Before heading to work, Pei Jingmo had prepared breakfast for her. She opened the container: he’d made eggs, along with bread and fruit.
The eggs were double-yolked.
He’d left a note, the handwriting as messy and indecipherable as always.
Song Qingyu stared at it for a long moment, finally making out the words “good luck”—or so she guessed. Pei Jingmo probably meant that eating double-yolked eggs would bring her good fortune.
Song Qingyu smiled. Pei Jingmo always believed in such things.
“My dear, what are you smiling about? You look like a girl in love.”
“Ahem… Nonsense, you’re imagining things.”
Suddenly, her phone rang.
“Liuzheng, let me take this call.”
Without ending the video chat, Song Qingyu answered.
“Hello, is this Miss Song Qingyu from Dream Builder Studio?”
“Yes, this is she.”
“I’m the head of Tianqi Group’s gaming platform. We’re very interested in your game. Would you be willing to come to Tianqi Group for a detailed discussion?”
Even after the call ended, Song Qingyu was dazed—dazed with joy.
The video call resumed.
Song Qingyu looked at Xie Liuzheng, excitement radiating from her. “Liuzheng, my luck has really turned! I can’t talk now—I have to go to Tianqi Group.”
“Go, then! I’ll be waiting for good news.”
“Alright.”
Hanging up, Song Qingyu quickly gathered her things and headed out with her materials. She’d only attended the reunion out of curiosity, never expecting the class monitor to be so resourceful.
She thought about sharing the good news with Pei Jingmo, but knowing he was busy at work and unlikely to check his phone, she decided to wait until she got home.
Tianqi Tower was designed by the internationally renowned architect Greta Element. Song Qingyu had always been captivated by its futuristic, high-tech façade whenever she passed by.
This was her first time stepping inside Tianqi Group.
As a giant of the tech world, its interior was as lavish and intelligent as one would expect—like entering a city of technology.
The head of the platform had said he’d come to meet her. Guided by the front desk, Song Qingyu waited in the lounge.
A puddle had formed on the floor, and as the cleaning lady came to deal with it, she slipped and fell hard with a resounding thud.
Seeing this, Song Qingyu hurried over to help her up.
“Auntie, are you alright? Does anything hurt? Should I call an ambulance?”
The receptionist quickly brought someone over to check for injuries. Song Qingyu picked up the mop lying on the ground, intending to set it aside, but—
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Song herself.”
Song Qingyu hadn’t expected to run into Sheng Yuru here.
Clad head-to-toe in designer labels and carrying the latest Chanel bag, Sheng Yuru looked at the mop in Song Qingyu’s hands and let out a villainous laugh. “What’s this? Have you been reduced to working as a cleaner at Tianqi Group?”
Song Qingyu couldn’t be bothered to engage with such nonsense. She set the mop in the corner.
Sheng Yuru, relishing the rare chance to humiliate Song Qingyu, was not about to let it slip by.
“I heard Chuxingzhi withdrew his investment from your studio. I didn’t believe it at first, but now I do. With no money to run your studio and nowhere to find a decent job, you’ve been forced into menial labor.”
She trailed after Song Qingyu, gloating.
“Honestly, you had the chance to be the young madam of the Chu family, but you insisted on marrying some penniless, powerless laborer. Why bring this hardship on yourself?”
Song Qingyu turned to her coolly. “With all that nosiness, you really ought to run for the neighborhood committee.”
“You… I can’t believe you’re still so stubborn after falling so low.”
Sheng Yuru sniffed. “I’m different. I’m here to see my cousin Yuandong. We’re family. If I ask, he’ll give me whatever position I want.”
“Is that so? Congratulations in advance.”
“I’m the little princess of Tianqi Group now. If you don’t butter me up, I might just have my cousin fire you—so you can’t even work as a cleaner.”
With a toss of her hair, Sheng Yuru strode arrogantly into the elevator.
Song Qingyu muttered, “…Utter lunatic.”
Before long, a man in a black suit and glasses approached Song Qingyu. “Are you… Miss Song?”
She immediately stood up. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Hello, I’m the head of the platform who called you. My name is Jie Changhe. Not the ‘Xie’ from the old Xie family in the saying, but the ‘Jie’ meaning explanation.”
Song Qingyu was momentarily taken aback.
His surname was Jie?
Wasn’t the class monitor’s surname Wang?
How could his brother be named Jie?
Perhaps one took after the father, the other after the mother—such things weren’t uncommon. Smiling, Song Qingyu nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Manager Jie.”
She considered mentioning the class monitor to express her thanks, but decided it might seem too deliberate and let it go. Besides, Manager Jie’s warm reception was surely thanks to the class monitor. Among adults, there was no need to spell everything out.