Liang Weining set foot in the wealthy neighborhood of Pok Fu Lam for the first time.
Rumor had it that this European-style building at 28 Sassoon Road was worth 350 million Hong Kong dollars.
And the owner of the mansion was none other than Chen Jingyuan, Executive Director of Zhonggang Group.
She passed through the spacious and beautiful garden and entered the villa.
She was received by the butler, Uncle Ming.
The man who greeted her was over fifty, with a kind face and always carried a trace of a smile when dealing with people, "Secretary Liang, please take a seat for a moment. Mr. Chen is on an international call."
After Liang Weining heard this, her clear eyes shifted slightly, and with just one glance, she saw the tall figure standing with his back to her outside on the terrace.
The man was dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, currently on a phone call.
At the end of the living room, the sheer curtains behind the glass partitions floated with the breeze.
From this angle, even if one couldn't clearly see his face, just the outline of his noble and upright figure was enough to feel the restrained yet steady aura emanating from him from a distance.
Liang Weining's gaze lingered only for three seconds.
The next second as she gathered her thoughts, as if sensing something, she looked up again.
By then, Chen Jingyuan had finished his call and was stepping inside from the terrace.
Seeing this, Liang Weining politely stood up, took a few steps forward, and handed over the document she was holding, "Mr. Chen."
Her tone was respectful, but when spoken by her, it didn't seem overly matured, and her voice, soft and clear, carried a purity unique to her age.
In the secretary's office, several assistants privately called her "Little Boss."
Literally, it meant youngest in age, highest in position.
Yet, when faced with matters, she never thought to boss around those under her but opted to make the trip herself.
Was she smart, or was she dull?
When Chen Jingyuan took the document, he looked at her calmly and asked in a low voice, "Have the figures in the appendix been double-checked?"
Liang Weining nodded confidently, "I've double-checked them to prevent any mistakes, and I've also brought the original data with me."
As she spoke, she opened her bag and fished around in the inner compartment. Her earphone cord and small items were tangled up; after finally sorting them out, she had just managed to take out the USB stick when an unexpected item also fell out with it.
Not paying much attention to what it was, Liang Weining tidied her skirt and instinctively bent down to pick it up.
A cherry pink color lay quietly on the floor.
As she drew closer and finally made out the small letters on the packaging—Durex—
??
Why would there be something like that in her bag!
By the time she realized, Liang Weining was already blushing to her ears.
She suddenly remembered the mix-up with her best friend's bag from the day before and reluctantly closed her eyes.
Gu Yunzhen!
The living room was extremely quiet, the sound of page flipping echoed in her ears.
Liang Weining dared not let her gaze wander, steadying her nerves, she picked up the little contraption from the floor, clenched it tightly in her palm, and slowly stood up. She then carefully put the item back into her bag and gently zipped it shut.
After everything was done, she quietly raised her eyes to look at the man on the sofa who had not spoken a word.
Chen Jingyuan's face showed no emotion, his expression calm and focused on the document in his hands. Liang Weining quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
Just as she was silently congratulating herself, the man's lips slightly parted, "Give it to me."
Her just-relaxed nerves suddenly tensed again.
What?
Give it to him?
She swallowed hard, "Mr. Chen, you've misunderstood, I—I didn't mean that, I don't have that kind of intention."
The girl spoke incoherently, her demeanor mingling with a rare panic and alarm.
Chen Jingyuan didn't respond, but slowly raised his head from the document, his silent gaze fixed on Liang Weining from a distance neither too far nor too close, his eyes unfathomable.
The suddenly silent air made Liang Weining so nervous she could hardly breathe.
Although it was a breezy winter month, within just tens of seconds, Liang Weining's back was covered with a thin layer of sweat.
She was hesitating whether to explain the whole story from beginning to end.
After all, a female subordinate bringing that kind of thing to deliver documents to the boss would inevitably raise suspicion about her having ulterior motives.
She was about to speak when the man's deep, magnetic voice sounded again, "Give me the original data."
Huh?
Liang Weining's mind went blank.
The next moment, Chen Jingyuan's gaze had moved away from her blushing face and he asked indifferently, "What were you thinking about just now?"
"..."
It was her fault for having dirty thoughts.
A false alarm.
Liang Weining quickly adjusted her state of mind, took out the flash drive, and placed it neatly on the side table, standing up straight to wait for the boss to review the documents.
She stood tall, especially the pair of legs under the hem of her skirt, pale and slender.
When the flash drive was inserted into the laptop, Chen Jingyuan browsed the data, slightly lifting his chin, signalling her to sit.
Liang Weining, very disciplined, looked around and chose a seat close to the door on the side.
The leather sofa was soft yet resilient, much like the owner of this house—rarely harsh to his subordinates. Yet the oppressive feeling accumulated by the high-ranking over the years still made one unable to relax even in private.
Chen Jingyuan valued this set of data highly, evident from the focus in his eyes and brows.
Naturally, keeping her there wasn't to have her just stand idly by.
For a few key points that had been modified, Liang Weining had made detailed notes. Not only that, but she was also ready to respond to any questions Chen Jingyuan might have about certain details.
As she expected, this task was not so simple.
Towards the end, Uncle Ming walked in slowly, holding a phone with a stern expression. He bent down and whispered a few words to the man.
Upon hearing this, Chen Jingyuan's expression turned slightly colder and he instructed, "Tell the police station to handle it by the book, they don't need to consider my face."
This sentence was spoken in Cantonese.
Having studied in the Hong Kong Region for four years, Liang Weining considered herself to be quite linguistically gifted. She was fluent in both English and French, yet Cantonese just didn't agree with her.
Too difficult.
Fortunately, the company had a clear policy that encouraged all employees to speak Mandarin as much as possible during work hours, which undoubtedly reduced many communication barriers for her.
Lost in thought, by the time she came back to herself, she realized Uncle Ming had left at some point.
Now, only she and Chen Jingyuan were left in the living room.
Liang Weining thought the work was done and there was nothing else, and was just about to take her leave when the maid came in with tea, bringing two cups.
Through the curling steam of the tea, she looked at the man on the sofa with slight hesitation.
What does the boss want by keeping his female secretary here?
The tight-lipped Mr. Chen.
If you don't speak again,
I'll start having dirty thoughts again.
As if he could see right through her thoughts, Chen Jingyuan's lips lifted imperceptibly, and he leaned forward to pick up a cigarette box from the side table, drawing out a cigarette.
At the moment when the cigarette was perched on the man's lips, Liang Weining couldn't control her eager-to-please side and quickly stood up to light it for him.
As the distance closed between them, the faint woody scent of the man filled her breath.
It was a very nice smell.
Like cedar trees on a mountain top, mixed with hints of Chinese agarwood. Noble yet cold, the front notes invigorate the senses, but the base notes are enough to engulf one completely.
The air was quiet.
As one sat and one stood, Liang Weining had to bend down to complete the action.
Chen Jingyuan's deep gaze fell upon the girl, watching her long hair slip from her shoulders without her awareness, the slightly curled ends as light as feathers, gently brushing over his legs.