Ten minutes later, Li Yi finished inspecting Shen Yanzhi’s phone.
He frowned and asked Dang Ze—who had just delivered a computer to him—to double-check it as well.
Dang Ze was the head of the technical department. Although his rank was lower than Li Yi’s, he had graduated from a top-tier domestic university, and his programming skills were on par with Li Yi’s.
Another ten minutes or so passed, and Dang Ze completed his inspection. Their conclusions were identical..
“President Shen, no issues were detected with your phone.”
Not only was the phone’s performance intact, but even its hardware and other components were relatively new, showing no signs of aging. There were also no traces of hacking or unauthorized access on Shen Yanzhi’s phone.
Inside the phone, Chi Yu let out a huge sigh of relief.
She was really something!
She hadn’t been discovered at all!
At this moment, Chi Yu began to vaguely understand.
Her bizarre experience of “coming back from the dead” had already transcended ordinary human comprehension.
Therefore, even though she had turned into a string of data, she was different from conventional data—which was why Li Yi and Dang Ze hadn’t detected her.
Dang Ze handed the phone back to Shen Yanzhi.
Shen Yanzhi was somewhat dissatisfied with this result, but he didn’t show it.
Only after Li Yi and Dang Ze had both left the office did he lower his head, gazing intently at his phone. His expression was calm, yet his demeanor inscrutable.
Chi Yu, who had just relaxed, felt her nerves tense up again under Shen Yanzhi’s gaze.
She suddenly had a premonition that Shen Yanzhi didn’t quite believe what the technical team had just said. Or rather, it wasn’t that he thought they had misreported the actual situation, but that he still suspected something was wrong with his phone—something Li Yi and the others simply hadn’t been able to detect!
Chi Yu tensed her little face. From now on, she would have to be even more cautious in her actions.
Shen Yanzhi was clearly not the type who could be easily fooled. What’s more, he possessed outstanding abilities and sharp instincts.
While carefully concealing herself, Chi Yu also felt a twinge of guilt toward Shen Yanzhi.
Given Shen Yanzhi’s current status and position, the importance of his private phone went without saying.
To Shen Yanzhi, Chi Yu’s existence was no less alarming than an emperor suddenly discovering that a sword had somehow been suspended above his head at some unknown time—with no idea when that sword might fall.
Chi Yu quietly apologized to Shen Yanzhi in her heart.
She would absolutely never do anything to harm him.
The phone inspection matter was temporarily put to rest.
After this incident with Shen Yanzhi’s suspicions, Chi Yu acted even more cautiously. Apart from occasionally taking advantage of Shen Yanzhi’s absence to play with his phone—keeping tabs on Chen Jiazhi’s online activity and teaching herself programming—the rest of the time she obediently stayed on the lock screen page, staring blankly at the pitiful convertible time balance.
Under normal work circumstances at the company, Shen Yanzhi usually left his phone on his office desk. Only when he went on business trips or when he was meeting with other company executives would he slip it into his pocket.
Stumbling along, Chi Yu had managed to accumulate less than ten minutes over several days.
Looking at that pitifully small time balance, Chi Yu sighed sorrowfully.
At this snail’s pace, she would probably still be stuck in his phone by the time Shen Yanzhi’s hair turned gray.
On several nights, while Shen Yanzhi was sound asleep, Chi Yu was desperately tempted to transform into human form, slip the phone under his blanket, and then retrieve it from the covers before he woke up in the morning.
But the risks were far too great. The idea had barely crossed her mind before she dismissed it.