Passing through the underground passage, they came face to face with the imposing glass curtain wall of Jiang International Tower.
Unlike the vibrant modern feel of Yunqi Plaza, Jiang International's architecture featured more rigid lines, exuding the seasoned steadiness and authority of an established financial conglomerate.
Even on a weekday morning, everyone coming and going was impeccably dressed, hurrying along with purpose.
Ada was clearly familiar with the place. She walked straight into the spacious, bright, yet unusually quiet first-floor reception lobby.
The soaring atrium, the gleaming marble floors, and the massive corporate logo outlined in metallic lines behind the front desk—all proclaimed an entrance bar unlike any other.
"Hello," Ada said politely at the front desk. "We have an appointment with Mr. Liang of the Brand Center, at ten o'clock. We're from Firefly Creative."
Behind the desk were two young women with flawless makeup and standard-issue smiles.
One of them quickly checked the computer. A few seconds later, she looked up, her smile unchanged, but her tone carrying a formulaic distance. "We've found your appointment, but Mr. Liang is currently in a meeting. Could you please wait in the lounge area?"
Ada frowned slightly. "How long will the meeting take, roughly?"
"We can't say for sure. It was called at the last minute." The receptionist's smile was impenetrable, cutting off any further questions. "Mr. Liang's assistant will come down to get you shortly. Please wait patiently."
The same routine again. Ada was silent for two seconds, then asked nothing more, only nodding. "Alright, thank you."
She turned and headed toward the lounge area on one side of the lobby, half-enclosed by plants and sofas.
Xiao Song and Jiang Ningchu followed.
Ada chose an armchair and sat down. Xiao Song, looking somewhat awkward, settled onto the sofa next to her, unconsciously straightening the company brochure he was holding.
Jiang Ningchu took a seat on another sofa, laying her laptop bag flat on her lap.
This was her first time inside Jiang International.
She glanced around casually.
The atmosphere here overlapped subtly with that of the Jiang family home, yet was completely different—more institutional, more cold.
The minutes ticked by.
Ada sat up straight again and again, only to be disappointed each time.
She checked her watch twice more, and a trace of impatience finally appeared on her calm face.
Trying to break the suffocating, frozen atmosphere, Xiao Song leaned slightly toward Jiang Ningchu and whispered, so only the two of them could hear, "You get used to it. This is already our fourth trip."
Jiang Ningchu was a little surprised and whispered back, "Didn't they say… the assistant would come down to get you after the meeting?"
"Yeah," Xiao Song sighed with a bitter smile. "That's what they said last time too. We waited until closing time and no one came. Security asked us to leave."
"…"
"Today we weren't counting on Mr. Liang anyway," Ada said, catching them from the corner of her eye. She spoke with great patience, her voice extremely low. "Today's goal is to stake out President Jiang directly."
"President Jiang?" Jiang Ningchu froze for a moment. "Which President Jiang?"
Ada wasn't surprised by her reaction. She stretched her crossed legs out a little, propped her arms on her knees, and leaned closer to Jiang Ningchu:
"Mr. Liang's side is holding firm—all outdoor screens under Jiang Corporation are, as a matter of principle, never rented out or lent to anyone. And yet the largest screen in the entire city just happens to be in Jiang Corporation's hands."
"We can only find a way to reach the person who has the power to change this rule."
Jiang Ningchu nodded thoughtfully.
The only person who could change Jiang Corporation's rules was Jiang Heng.
She suddenly remembered the complicated, hesitant look on Lin Wei's face before she left.
Presumably, Lin Wei, considering her situation, had never intended to let her get involved from the very beginning.
If she went to beg Jiang Heng now, the worst outcome would simply be him watching coldly from the sidelines and saying a few harsh words to her.
But what if… what if Jiang Heng was actually willing to lend a hand?
That "what if" was like a tiny spark falling onto the dry haystack at the bottom of her heart.
Her fingers slid absently along the edge of her phone.
The screen lit up, then went dark again.
In the end, she unlocked it and opened the chat window with "One Good Deed a Day."
The conversation history still stopped at a few days ago, exuding a deliberate distance.
She took a deep breath and buried herself in typing.
Before long, a short essay summarizing the whole story from beginning to end was finished.
Jiang Ningchu checked it over and over, deleted a few words that seemed too eager, adjusted the order of the sentences, and confirmed there were no errors or omissions—and no inappropriate emotions leaking through.
Eyes shut, heart hardened, she hit send.
Message sent successfully.
From this moment on, time suddenly stretched infinitely.
One minute passed, and the phone screen remained silent.
Two minutes passed, and WeChat was still quiet.
Ten minutes passed…
Jiang Ningchu gripped her phone tightly, a thin layer of sweat forming in her palm.
She turned the screen face-down on her knee, not daring to look again, yet unable to resist glancing at it every few seconds from the corner of her eye.
Ada seemed to sense her anxiety and shot her a look, but said nothing, only raising a hand to check his watch once more.
Just as Jiang Ningchu began to feel that her behavior was childish and rash, and even started to regret it—
"Ding."
From the other side of the lobby, the executive elevator suddenly chimed softly.
The silver-gray elevator doors slowly opened.
Several figures stepped out.
The man leading them was extremely tall, dressed in a dark gray suit with sharp tailoring. He was tilting his head slightly, listening to the rapid-fire report from the assistant beside him, his features calm, exuding the cold, aloof aura of someone long accustomed to power—someone not to be approached by strangers.
It was Jiang Heng.
His appearance made the normally steady rhythm of the lobby freeze for an instant.
Several employees walking toward the elevator nearby slowed their steps and nodded slightly; the two young women at the front desk straightened their backs almost simultaneously; Ada and Xiao Song simply froze.
Under the gazes of everyone—whether astonished, awed, or bewildered—he walked straight toward the lounge area.
Jiang Ningchu's heartbeat involuntarily quickened.
She wasn't quite sure, but a thread of hope she couldn't suppress rose in her heart.
"Here for you?"
It wasn't until Ada nudged her arm gently that she came back to her senses.
One of the front desk women finally recovered and hurried over at a small trot, "President Jiang, these visitors are from Firefly Creative. They have an appointment with Mr. Liang of the Brand Center…"
Jiang Heng seemed not to hear—or rather, didn't care at all.
He stopped in front of Jiang Ningchu, his thin lips parting slightly. "Looking for me?"
Jiang Ningchu's cheeks instantly burned hot. All the excuses she had rehearsed in her head—"I have a friend at Jiang Corporation," "Just happened to be in the area"—shattered to pieces under his all-seeing gaze.
She opened her mouth, but no complete sound came out. Clutching her laptop bag, she gave a small nod and squeezed out a vague breath from her throat: "…Mm."
At the sight of her nervous yet stubbornly composed appearance, a flicker of indescribable amusement passed through Jiang Heng's eyes.
He didn't press further, only turned his head slightly and gave a quiet instruction to the assistant at his side, "Take them to the conference room."
"Understood."
The assistant nodded and immediately made a "please" gesture toward the still-stunned Ada and Xiao Song, leading them toward a side corridor.
Jiang Heng turned and headed for his private elevator.
After a few steps, noticing no one had followed, he tilted his head slightly and cast a flat, unreadable glance back.
Jiang Ningchu snapped out of her daze and hurried after him, laptop bag in hand, taking small quick steps.
The elevator doors closed, shutting out all the shocked, probing, and complicated gazes from outside.
In the small, enclosed space, only the two of them remained, and the pressure mounted sharply.
Jiang Ningchu stared at the rising floor numbers, able to hear her own heart pounding like a drum.
The elevator went straight to the top floor.
The president's office occupied the best vantage point in the building. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched the bustling skyline of Nancheng.
The interior was minimalist and cool-toned. Documents were neatly arranged on the massive ebony desk, and aside from essential office equipment, there was hardly any personal decoration.
Cold, efficient—just like its owner.
Jiang Heng walked into the office, pulled out the wide leather chair, picked up the open file at hand, and continued reviewing it.
Jiang Ningchu was pinned to the doorway by his complete indifference, unable to advance or retreat.
She took a deep breath, gently closed the heavy wooden door behind her, and stood just inside, waiting quietly.
Jiang Heng didn't so much as lift an eyelid, acting as if this were perfectly natural—as if there had never been a second person in the office.
After waiting a while longer, she caught the moment he closed the folder and took a step forward.
She couldn't wait any longer.
She licked her dry lips, her voice a little tight. "President Jiang, I'm sorry to bother you. About that city interactive project, A Day for You…"
She began reciting the project's core concept, its innovations, its potential value.
Jiang Heng seemed uninterested, replying with a light, offhand, "So?"
"…So."
Jiang Ningchu slowed her pace, continuing to make her case. "If Jiang Corporation could provide this opportunity, it wouldn't just be support for our company—it could also make for an outstanding piece of corporate publicity…"
Her voice gradually trailed off.
Jiang Heng finally moved.
He set down his pen, leaned back into the wide chair, and let his gaze sweep slowly over her. "That invested in this internship?"
Jiang Ningchu's cheeks flared even hotter—embarrassment mixed with the mortification of having her thoughts seen through. She wished she could vanish on the spot.
At the sight of her, the hint of teasing in Jiang Heng's eyes deepened.
The other junior members of the Jiang family's side branches, once inside Jiang Corporation, couldn't wait to carve the words "Jiang family" onto their foreheads.
But her? Despite carrying the title of the Jiang family's youngest daughter, she looked more anxious than any ordinary intern.
"What's this?" he continued lazily.
"When you were conducting official business and sent me a WeChat message telling me to come downstairs, weren't you quite self-assured?"
"And now you're playing the mysterious one?"
Jiang Ningchu lifted her head, instinctively wanting to argue back, her voice rising despite herself: "No, it wasn't a notification…"
Realizing she'd lost her composure, she lowered her voice again. "It was… asking you for a favor."
"Asking?" Jiang Heng arched an eyebrow. "On what standing?"
"On the standing of being your si—"
The word slipped out of Jiang Ningchu's mouth, catching the instant the second syllable was about to leave her lips.
She suddenly remembered the long message she'd sent—one that opened with "President Jiang" and closed with "Thank you."
Ever since she'd walked into the office, everything had indeed been strictly "business."
"…"
A flicker of panic crossed her face as she tried to recover. "…Thank you, Brother.”
"Heh." Jiang Heng let out a short, low laugh—this time the amusement was a bit more genuine, but laced with unmistakable mockery. "So now you remember to call me Brother?"
"…"
Jiang Ningchu was left speechless by his retort.
She gripped the leather strap of her laptop bag tightly, forcing herself to stay calm.
Then, in one breath, she recited the entire company profile of Firefly Creative.
Jiang Heng didn't respond right away, quietly watching her.
His gaze swept over her faintly trembling lashes, her shoulders—held stiffly straight yet still looking somewhat frail—and finally settled on her clear eyes, brimming with complicated emotions yet remarkably stubborn.
The air in the office seemed to freeze over completely.
After a long while, he suddenly spoke. "Did you take your medicine?"