This turn of events was somewhat shocking. The delivery person was showered with focused attention from a large crowd of employees, feeling quite awkward himself, though he still had to carry out the job he was supposed to do.
Taking out the exquisite dishes from the thermal insulation box one by one, the delivery person continued: “Miss Ning, President Ji instructed our restaurant to prepare these for you individually. Please see if they suit your appetite; if not, we will remake them for you.”
Silence instantly fell over the room. This café offered Western dining services and was extremely high-end, generally not providing delivery services. Having a meal inside cost a fortune as well. Given Ning Wanji’s financial strength, she likely couldn’t afford the expense of this meal. Moreover, the delivery person wouldn’t go out of his way to put on a show with Ning Wanji just to satisfy her vanity.
Originally, Dai Wei had been eagerly anticipating watching Ning Wanji make a fool of herself, but this time she had no way of seeing her humiliated. She was obviously quite flushed with rage, her face turning white then red by turns, which appeared somewhat hilarious—an indescribable farce compared to her high-and-mighty demeanor just moments ago.
Seeing Dai Wei like this, Xia Nianxi burst out laughing directly. Tugging at Ning Wanji’s hand, she said: “See that? It’s self-evident who the real clown is. President Ji specially bought food for our Wanwan, but there’s none for you.”
This time, it was everyone else’s turn to cast subtle glances at Dai Wei. Perhaps this was the so-called “thirty years east, thirty years west”—people always shift direction with the prevailing wind. Those who had just thought Dai Wei’s words made sense were now coming over to envy Ning Wanji instead.
Ning Wanji felt slightly bewildered in her heart. Dai Wei’s fingertips dug into her palms, her entire state looking far from good. In contrast, Ning Wanji had a completely baffled expression, looking genuinely bewildered rather than acting.
Trying her best to block out the puzzled glances of those around her, Ning Wanji bit the bullet and signed her name on the delivery confirmation line, only to hear Xia Nianxi whisper right against her ear: “No wonder you said you weren’t a fan of President Ji, Wanwan—turns out you two actually know each other?”
“Ahem.” Just as she handed the receipt back to the delivery person, the chief editor happened to walk in through the door.
The chief editor’s name was Xue Yike. Nearing forty years old, she was a genuine career iron-woman. Financial Storm belonged to the largest domestic conglomerate—namely Wangjing Group—which held controlling stakes in it, yet being unable to secure an interview even with her own big boss had given her a massive headache in recent days.
Catching such a bustling scene just as she walked in, Xue Yike lowered her face and said: “What are you all crowding around here for? Is all your work finished? Slackers loitering around here—be careful or the director will dock your pay.”
The moment these words came out, the surrounding people instantly scattered like birds and beasts, working better than anything else.
Xia Nianxi winced, nudged Ning Wanji’s arm gently with her elbow, and continued: “See that? Once the tigress arrives, everyone is basically scared off. They were watching the show just now, but not anymore.”
After all, most people hadn’t finished their work, and getting caught slacking and watching a spectacle during work hours by Xue Yike would lead to serious trouble.
Ning Wanji, on the other hand, wasn’t too afraid of Xue Yike—she had finished all the work within her duties anyway. However, her mind was still wandering, looking absent-minded.
Seeing her like this, while Xue Yike wasn’t looking in their direction, Xia Nianxi inserted the straw, handed the milk to Ning Wanji, and said: “What on earth is your relationship with President Ji? He treats you so well—honestly spill the beans.”
This question could be interpreted in many ways. The colleagues who only saw Ji Shijing sending her food at noon were likely eighty percent of the same mind as Xia Nianxi, but Ning Wanji decided to answer truthfully.
Biting down on the straw, she took a sip of milk, then took a bite of the freshly baked butter toast and said: “Our relationship is that there is no relationship.”
Hearing this, Xia Nianxi was clearly a bit disappointed, but refusing to believe it, she continued: “How is that possible? If there’s no relationship, why would he specially send you food? Do you know this bill must be over ten thousand yuan? Top-grade steak, cake delicacies, and all that.”
Relying on her sharp intuition, Xia Nianxi felt that Ji Shijing and Ning Wanji definitely had some unspoken relationship, but the colleague in front of her happened to be tight-lipped, making it hard to pry anything out of her mouth.
However, a prince-like figure of the Beijing elite circle like Ji Shijing—who could attract a whole crowd of socialites in upper-class circles with just a wave of his hand—was truly unlikely to be involved with Ning Wanji. Saying there was no relationship wasn’t wrong either, yet Xia Nianxi kept turning the question over in her head as to why he would order top-tier cuisine for Ning Wanji if they had no relationship.
“Oh.” Ning Wanji nodded expressionlessly, then thought for a moment before saying: “Maybe Senior is relatively kind-hearted and doesn’t lack money. Don’t overthink it.”
She gave this answer after serious consideration. After all, when she left, her stomach was growling with hunger. Before leaving, Ji Shijing had given her a meaningful glance and asked what she planned to eat for the afternoon, to which she replied she planned to fill her stomach with fried chicken; Ji Shijing probably thought that was very unhealthy.
It had been like that back in high school as well. Once, she bought fried chicken at the school entrance and bumped into Ji Shijing on duty. He was a high school senior at the time and had already obtained a full scholarship recommendation to Stanford, yet he still held the position of student council president.
During the school lunch break, junk food wasn’t allowed into the school. Ning Wanji stuffed the fried chicken inside her school uniform jacket, thinking she could sneak past inspection undetected, but unexpectedly, Ji Shijing pulled her out anyway.
Standing before the main gate of Beicheng Middle School, Ning Wanji stared blankly at Ji Shijing. The tall, long-legged youth wore a white shirt, gazing at her with indifferent eyes as he spoke: “What do you have hidden under your jacket?”
A warrior can accept death, but fried chicken cannot be abandoned. Ning Wanji held her backpack in front of her chest and whispered: “Reporting to Senior, it’s a hand warmer packet.”
“…”
The school term had just started, and hand warmers weren’t needed in September anyway. Ji Shijing didn’t quite know what to say. He raised his eyes slightly, ignoring Ning Wanji’s petty tricks, and continued: “Either finish eating it at the school entrance before going in, or throw it away—pick one of the two.”
These words sounded ruthless no matter how one heard them.
Paying no mind to the youth turning around to dock her conduct points, Ning Wanji stepped forward directly and grabbed his hand, saying: “Senior, how about this: I’ll share half the fried chicken with you, and you let me sneak it in. Don’t dock my conduct points, or my homeroom teacher will make trouble for me.”
Saying so, the young girl pulled out the fried chicken box from inside her uniform zipper. It was wrapped in a plastic bag, so no oil stains would soak onto the uniform. But to risk so much just to eat fried chicken was something Ji Shijing couldn’t quite understand.
Her voice sounded very pitiful. There were clearly only a few minutes left before the required afternoon arrival time at school, and it was impossible to finish eating the fried chicken in a few minutes. After thinking for a long time, Ning Wanji made a painful decision, thinking that sharing the fried chicken with the handsome senior might solve the problem through bribery.
However, the senior didn’t seem to buy into that trick.
Yet the money for the fried chicken was something she had saved up with great difficulty; she really couldn’t bear to throw it away.
Ji Shijing lowered his eyes slightly, catching sight of Ning Wanji looking up at him. The girl’s clear, black-and-white eyes gazed at him so earnestly, as if silently expressing how pitiful she was, and she even brought the fried chicken box right up in front of him.
“…”
“I don’t eat these things; it’s junk food. Don’t share it with me.”
It was indeed junk food, but Ning Wanji still quite liked eating it, even if Ji Shijing thought otherwise.
In the end, Ning Wanji still managed to bring that box of fried chicken into the school successfully, and Ji Shijing didn’t dock her attendance points either.
The moment the class bell rang, her whole body relaxed as she stepped into the classroom one second ahead of the teacher; luckily, Ji Shijing still had some conscience.
After so many years, the taste of eating fried chicken that time remained fresh in her memory. Ji Shijing’s words—that junk food wasn’t good and he didn’t eat junk food—were also remembered by Ning Wanji all along.
Thinking of this, she sighed softly: “You don’t understand. Senior just didn’t want me eating junk food, so he was simply being kind. He probably just acted out of ordinary alumni goodwill. Besides, this bill isn’t a significant figure to him anyway.”
Hearing Ning Wanji say this, Xia Nianxi suddenly felt it made quite a lot of sense.
Taking a sip of Cola, she continued: “Dammit, evil capitalists! Ah, I wish I could be like President Ji one day, not treating money like money.”
Ji Shijing had probably overestimated her appetite, or perhaps wanted her to taste a bit of everything, so he had ordered quite a few items. Although each portion was small, added together it still seemed a bit too much.
In the end, only with Xia Nianxi’s joint effort did Ning Wanji finish everything he had ordered.
After all, for a meal costing over ten thousand yuan, even if she ate until she burst, she had to finish it.
It had to be said that for top-tier Michelin culinary standards, the food far surpassed what she could usually access in the company cafeteria. How to say thank you to Ji Shijing next time became a huge dilemma for her.
When the steak was finished, just as Ning Wanji had expected, a small note was pressed into the bottom of the box.
The handwriting on the note was very familiar to Ning Wanji. Back in middle school, she had once domineeringly borrowed Ji Shijing’s notes to review. At that time, she hadn’t yet realized that Ji Shijing was a famous young master of the Beijing elite circle, nor had she realized that the two of them would be as different as night and day in the future. It was purely emotions budding during student days, unmixed with anything else, appearing exceptionally pure.
Back then, possessing a bold, vague crush on him, she would chase after him—wherever he was, she would be there. Thinking about it now, those days seemed to belong only to middle school; once they passed, one had to return to reality.
Ji Shijing’s handwriting remained as delicate yet sharp-edged as before, clean and decisive just like the man himself.
“Don’t eat junk food.”
As if recalling something, his pen strokes in the middle paused slightly, turned, and the latter half of the sentence read:
“Especially fried chicken.”
Still the same obsessive-compulsive as before, Senior.