11
There Are No Shortage of Pursuers Around Me
Director Chen was startled and snapped, “Don’t you know how to knock?”
Lin Yuxi calmly closed the door and walked to the desk, her tone resolute. “I want to join the research team.”
She said “want,” not “would like.”
Director Chen had never felt so humiliated in his life. Being threatened was one thing, but as a subordinate, Lin Yuxi showed him no respect at all.
“Why did it take you so long to get back?”
Lin Yuxi casually lied, “You wouldn’t reimburse me, so of course, I walked.”
Director Chen was speechless for a moment before he recovered, muttering, “If you can’t even afford that, you shouldn’t stay at Yuntu.”
“Keep that advice for yourself,” Lin Yuxi shot back.
Director Chen snorted, too annoyed to look at her any longer, and turned to his computer screen to focus on his work.
He was clearly trying to ignore her.
But Lin Yuxi wasn’t in a hurry. She had plenty of time.
If he didn’t agree, she could stand there until he did.
If all else failed, she could always threaten him again with the affair.
Director Chen didn’t dare fire her, and she didn’t have any better job opportunities.
So, they were at a stalemate.
It was a lot like her marriage.
An hour passed, and Lin Yuxi’s legs began to feel numb.
Just as she was about to speak, Director Chen’s phone rang.
It was a call from his lover.
Director Chen waved his hand dismissively. “Get out.”
Lin Yuxi, of course, had no intention of obeying. She stood rooted to the spot like a wooden post.
Director Chen’s face turned green with anger.
As the ringing was about to stop, he had no choice but to compromise. “I’ll add your name later. Now get out.”
Lin Yuxi had gotten what she wanted.
When she returned to her workstation, Qin Ruoshi leaned over again and asked, “Yuxi, what did Director Chen say?”
Lin Yuxi replied calmly, “Not much.”
Qin Ruoshi’s smile faded, looking somewhat disbelieving. “Director Chen agreed?”
“Yeah.”
Lin Yuxi finished speaking, took out her Bluetooth earbuds, and put them in. The clean lines of her profile seemed to spell out “Do Not Disturb.”
Qin Ruoshi didn’t feel comfortable pressing for details and turned back to her own thoughts, looking troubled.
Over the past couple of days, she had discreetly asked some colleagues and learned that over the last seven years, the Fu Corporation had occasionally invested in Yuntu.
But she had only joined recently.
Was Fu Tingchuan’s investment in Yuntu related to Lin Yuxi?
Qin Ruoshi pondered for a while, unable to let it go. She opened her phone and sent a message to a friend who worked at the Fu Corporation.
The reply came quickly: “Yuntu is just a small part of President Fu’s investment portfolio. Don’t worry.”
Qin Ruoshi pursed her lips.
Immediately after, another message arrived: “Today, I saw a divorce agreement on Assistant Ji’s desk.”
Qin Ruoshi stared at the last four words, reading them over and over. After confirming she hadn’t misread, she let out a soft sigh of relief.
It had nothing to do with Lin Yuxi.
Fu Tingchuan, a master of the investment world, prioritized return on investment above all else, and Yuntu certainly had the potential to justify his investment.
Rather than being about Yuntu, it was more about the rapid growth of the artificial intelligence industry.
What she needed to do now was focus on her research, improve her skills, and strive to become Fu Tingchuan’s greatest asset in the future.
…
After work, Lin Yuxi returned home feeling somewhat down.
Lin Chenghao was in the kitchen cooking, his small figure standing tall and straight.
Hearing the commotion at the door, he turned around and immediately noticed the dark cloud hanging over Lin Yuxi’s head.
“Mommy, what happened?”
Haohao was precocious, and Lin Yuxi didn’t want to hide too much from him.
She took off her coat, walked into the kitchen, and pulled Haohao into her arms. Her voice was hoarse as she said, “Sweetie, if Mommy ever gets divorced, would you support me?”
Lin Chenghao was taken aback for a moment but quickly composed himself, shrugging. “Mommy, you know your son is a charmer. Finding a decent stepdad won’t be hard.”
The gloom vanished instantly, and Lin Yuxi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Haohao was, as always, adept at lifting her spirits.
“Yes, Mommy believes in you.”
A child who could both earn money and take care of others was a treasure anywhere.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for not being able to give Haohao the love of both parents.
“Sweetie, how about Mommy accompanies you to the shoot next weekend?”
Lin Yuxi didn’t always go with him. To save more money, she occasionally took on programming gigs on weekends and couldn’t get away.
Hearing his mother’s offer, Lin Chenghao’s eyes lit up. “Sure!”
Lin Yuxi leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Alright, Mommy has to work on a big project now, so I’ll get going.”
Lin Chenghao nodded. “Go ahead.”
…
Lin Yuxi was buried in her study, cramming the latest literature on algorithms. She was so engrossed that she didn’t hear anything.
By the time she noticed someone’s presence, the aroma of food had already wafted into the room.
Lin Chenghao was holding a tray with three dishes and a bowl of soup.
Since the desk was piled high with thick algorithm books and the remaining space was occupied by two large monitors, there was clearly no room for the tray.
Lin Yuxi gave an awkward smile. “Sweetie, you go ahead and eat. Mommy will join you in a bit.”
She was only halfway through the literature, and stopping now would disrupt her train of thought.
Lin Chenghao sighed helplessly but indulged his mother nonetheless. He brought over a small table and set the tray on it.
He scooped a spoonful of food and brought it to Lin Yuxi’s mouth.
Being fed by her six-year-old son felt a bit strange, no matter how you looked at it.
But Lin Yuxi didn’t mind. She turned her head, took a bite, and praised sweetly, “Thank you, sweetie.”
Lin Chenghao replied proudly, “You’re welcome.”
Even if he had to take care of his mother for a lifetime, it would be no big deal.
Spoonful after spoonful, he fed her.
It wasn’t until Lin Yuxi said she couldn’t eat anymore that Lin Chenghao put down the chopsticks and started eating himself, all while reading the literature on the desk.
He couldn’t understand it.
It was too advanced.
In his eyes, his mother was not only the perfect mom but also a hidden expert.
From writing code and creating face masks to painting walls and unclogging toilets, there was almost nothing his mother couldn’t do.
Except for one thing: household chores and cooking.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t do them.
She just couldn’t be bothered.
His mother preferred to use her brilliant mind to solve problems rather than waste time on boring chores and repetitive cooking.
But that was fine—he could handle it.
In his view, their little family of two was already happy.
They didn’t need a third person.
But if someone made his mother as sad as she was today, he wouldn’t mind finding a reliable “big shot” to rely on.
His mother had no shortage of suitors. All he had to do was screen them carefully, and he could find a stepdad better than his biological father.