Volume One, Chapter 16: Delicate Disposition

The newly appointed president had spoken, and Jie Changhe dared not show the slightest neglect toward Song Qingyu.

In truth, Jie Changhe had already seen the proposal Song Qingyu sent to his inbox. But given the current climate, the market was flooded with either otome games or competitive titles, and story-driven games were considered a high-risk venture. He had only glanced at it before dismissing it outright.

He never expected that upper management would take an interest in it.

Thankfully, he hadn’t immediately blacklisted her; otherwise, the consequences might have been dire.

“Miss Song, may I ask why you want to develop a narrative-driven game?”

“This idea came to me after my mother passed away. My original intention was to create a world in which players could immerse themselves, experiencing different lives and emotions.”

At first, Song Qingyu had focused solely on a story themed around maternal love, but with further research and personal growth, her vision expanded.

Of course, she was also well aware that most platforms shied away from narrative games, given the considerable risks involved.

But now that she finally had an opportunity, she was determined to seize it.

“I believe narrative games can convey certain themes or educational messages and offer valuable insights.”

“Players’ choices affect the direction and outcome of the story, which increases the game’s playability and replay value.”

“We’ve invested a great deal in the story, visuals, and music, so players won’t find it dull.”

Whenever Song Qingyu spoke about her game, she seemed to radiate light—her eyes shining with excitement.

Jie Changhe had seen too many designers who simply copied and followed trends for profit. Someone like her was truly rare, and it left a deep impression on him.

Of course, under normal circumstances, he would not have touched such a project, given the risks he would have to carry himself.

But things had changed.

The president had given the order and would shoulder the risk. Even if the project failed, it wouldn’t fall on his head.

“So why name the game ‘The Interpreter’? Is it because of your name?”

Song Qingyu shook her head. “No, it’s because I once played a game where players set out on an adventure with ‘interpreters’—individuals who wielded the power of ‘Speech’—to battle calamity beasts and search for light and hope. I hope this game can help those adrift in the world to always believe in light and the future.”

Jie Changhe looked at Song Qingyu.

Such innocence—such idealism.

Yet it was hard to dislike her, for deep down, everyone harbors a pure corner of their heart.

After leaving the Tianqi Group building, Song Qingyu looked up at the azure sky, feeling as though even the air was fresher.

She immediately shared the good news with her studio partners and with Xie Liuzheng.

Yu Qianqian: “!!! I knew we could do it!”

Xia Lu: “I’m so moved I’m crying! (;´[emoji][emoji][emoji][emoji][emoji]`)”

Lu Yuan: “([emoji][emoji][emoji]_[emoji][emoji])[emoji]”

Xie Liuzheng didn’t reply; she was probably off filming.

In the studio’s group chat, Song Qingyu typed, “This is only a small step toward success. If we want to achieve true victory, we need to keep working hard! Let’s go, team!”

Just as she sent the message, she saw Sheng Yuru making a phone call, looking displeased.

“I didn’t see him. His secretary said he’s away on a business trip.”

“Hmph, he’s just taken office—how could he have so many trips? I think he just doesn’t want to see me.”

“He was a rascal before, and after joining the army, he became a military rascal. Now he just puts on airs.”

Whoever was on the other end said something, and she replied impatiently, “I know, I’ll maintain a good relationship with him.”

Song Qingyu couldn’t help but laugh; so she’d been turned away.

There was still much work to sort out before her next meeting with Jie Changhe, so after returning home, Song Qingyu threw herself into her tasks.

She worked all afternoon, and by the time she snapped out of her focus, it was already half past five.

Just as she was considering whether or not to message Pei Jingmo, a notification chimed.

It was a message from Pei Jingmo.

“I have something tonight. I’ll be home late. Remember to eat.”

“Okay.”

Song Qingyu sighed. She had wanted to share her good news with him.

It seemed he really was busy.

—

The Sky Explorer was an iconic building in Shangjing City. Only the wealthy or powerful could afford to spend money here; ordinary citizens were rarely seen inside.

But Pei Jingmo had arrived.

He was brought here by Chu Xingzhi.

Half an hour earlier.

Pei Jingmo had been stopped by Chu Xingzhi at the factory gate.

“Can we talk?”

Pei Jingmo looked at him coolly. “About what?”

Chu Xingzhi glanced disdainfully at the surroundings. “This isn’t the place. Get in the car.”

He had come in a luxury car with concealed door handles. Seeing Pei Jingmo unmoving, he curled his lips into a cold smile, murmured an apology, and opened the door himself.

Noticing Pei Jingmo’s plain T-shirt and work pants, he offered a “kind” reminder: “Don’t you want to change?”

“No need.”

Pei Jingmo got in without hesitation.

Ordinarily, dressed like this, Pei Jingmo would have been stopped at the door.

But today, Chu Xingzhi was with him, and the two were led by staff to the sixty-eighth floor—the very top.

Compared to Pei Jingmo’s simple, even shabby attire, Chu Xingzhi’s bespoke suit, expensive tie, and elegant lapel pin all proclaimed his refined status.

One might have expected Pei Jingmo to be overshadowed.

Yet Pei Jingmo radiated an intimidating aura. When he lifted his eyes, a chilling pressure seemed to ripple silently through the room, unsettling everything around him.

No one dared meet his gaze.

By contrast, the impeccably dressed Chu Xingzhi seemed almost ordinary.

The top floor housed a Western restaurant, elegant and luxurious in its décor.

Original works by renowned artists hung on the walls, each painting carefully chosen to complement the overall style.

The floors were covered in plush, high-end carpeting, soft and silent underfoot.

Each table was draped in fine linen, set with gleaming silverware, exquisite porcelain, and graceful crystal goblets.

Fresh flowers adorned every table, releasing a gentle fragrance. Every seat offered ample space, ensuring comfort and privacy for the guests.

“Sit.”

Chu Xingzhi gestured invitingly. Unlike his manic self in recent days, today he was the picture of gentility and warmth.

Pei Jingmo sat down and turned to look at the row upon row of skyscrapers.

Chu Xingzhi noticed and smiled faintly. “You’re lucky. Out of more than seven billion people in the world, very few get to stand here and take in the whole of Shangjing City at a glance.”

Pei Jingmo withdrew his gaze and looked at Chu Xingzhi. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

“No rush. Let’s eat first.”

Waiters, uniform in dress and height and all strikingly attractive, carried out an array of delicacies.

Not only was the food beautiful, but even the servers were a feast for the eyes.

The table quickly filled with a dazzling spread.

Chu Xingzhi picked up a slice of ham and introduced it: “This is Spanish Jamón Ibérico—one piece alone costs a thousand yuan. Xiaoyu loves the ham at this place.”

Pei Jingmo watched him silently, betraying no emotion.

“The truffles and foie gras here are also Xiaoyu’s favorites. She’s delicate, a picky eater, and won’t touch anything she doesn’t like.”

Speaking of Song Qingyu, a gentle smile softened his lips. “I’ve spoiled her far too much.”