Negotiations proceeded smoothly under Donghua's proposed terms. Zhengyang's representatives were Wang Zhenhai and his son, Wang Shaolong. Donghua's CEO and marketing director relished the spotlight, while Rui Jie and Fang Tianzhuo stayed low-key—they weren't executives, after all, merely assistants. Still, Wang Shaolong's mocking glances at Fang Tianzhuo tested his restraint; he barely kept from throwing a punch.
To counteract negative public sentiment around the Tianfu Project, both companies agreed to a press conference at Oriental Hotel, featuring a model of the revised plans. Fang Tianzhuo had his team post updates online, linking to major news sites.
On the day of the conference, Fang Tianzhuo arrived in formal attire. Reporters and investors packed the venue—Tianfu was infamous now, its prime location and profit potential drawing crowds.
"Mr. Fang! Nice to see you again." A soft, familiar voice reached him.
He looked up—it was Wang Zhixin, attending as a journalist.
"Mind another interview?" She cut to the chase.
"What do you want to know?" He smiled, amused.
"Donghua and Zhengyang's future collaboration plans."
"Sorry—I'm just the chairman's assistant, not management. But I can introduce you to our CEO or marketing director." He was honest. Those two would jump at the chance to grandstand, and they knew how to dodge real questions.
"Thank you." She remained polite, her tone gentle.
As he led her toward the executives, a familiar figure caught his eye: Xu Yanran.
Coincidentally, she spotted him too—walking toward him with Wang Shaolong. Pain lanced through his chest, sharp and unnameable.
"Ms. Wang, could you do me a favor?" He asked, voice tight.
"Anything—we're friends, aren't we?" She smiled.
"Could you… pretend to be my fiancée? Just for a minute." He summoned all his courage.
"Pretend? A little drama? Intriguing." Her curiosity piqued.
"Just a formality. No physical contact, I swear."
"Heh. Mr. Fang, your pickup lines are ancient." She teased.
"Please. I just need to save face. That's all." He looked desperate.
She studied him, then nodded. "Fine. I'll try."
Yanran and Wang Shaolong drew near. Yanran looked more elegant than ever—rosy cheeks, fair skin, a light gown accentuating her curves.
"Tianzhuo. Fancy meeting you here." She greeted him first.
"Tianzhuo's doing great. We're getting married soon! You must be the stunning Xu Yanran my cousin's always mentioning?" Wang Zhixin interrupted, before Fang Tianzhuo could speak.
The trio froze, stunned into silence. By "cousin," she meant Wang Shaolong. Wang Zhenhai was her uncle; Wang Zhongtian, Zhengyang's chairman, was her father. No wonder Rui Jie had thought Wang Zhixin looked familiar—she was Zhengyang's princess, a Wang by blood.
Fang Tianzhuo reeled. He'd stumbled into another absurd mess, never guessing her identity.
"What? You're marrying Fang Tianzhuo? Why didn't you tell me?" Wang Shaolong blurted.
"Not everyone broadcasts their love like you. Marriage is private, not a business proposal for public debate." Wang Zhixin quipped.
"Congratulations." Yanran's voice was faint, her earlier confidence deflating.
"Indeed, Tianzhuo. We'll work closely—count on my support." Wang Shaolong dropped his refined act, sounding almost obsequious, as if forgetting he was a CEO and Fang Tianzhuo a lowly assistant.
Small talk fizzled. They parted, awkwardness hanging thick.
Fang Tianzhuo stood, dazed, struggling to process what had happened.
"Troubles, fiancé?" Wang Zhixin teased.
"Ms. Wang, I'm so sorry—I had no idea." He flushed.
"Relax! It was hilarious. You should've seen my cousin's face." Her laughter was genuine, but he only felt more ashamed.
"Let me introduce you to the executives now." He said, earnest.
"Too crowded. They won't have time. Rain check on that interview?" She said, casual.
"Anytime they're free."
"Then, since I helped—dinner? My treat." She smiled.
"Absolutely. Just name the time and place."
"How about Nanhu Tea House? Snacks, tea." She kept it simple.
"Now?"
"Now."
They left the hotel, driving separately.
With New Year approaching, many locals had returned home, leaving the tea house quiet. They settled in a corner, ordering tieguanyin tea and snacks. Fang Tianzhuo, as usual, asked for bitter melon tea.
"You and Xu Yanran—you were close." Wang Zhixin said, blunt.
"Childhood friends. Schoolmates, all the way through college." He omitted the rest.
"Lovers, too. Recently." She didn't mince words.
"Yes. We broke up not long ago." He sipped his tea, bitter as his mood.
"Childhood sweethearts. You still care—why else ask me to playact?"
Her words made him flush. He'd been with other women since—hardly "devoted."
"I know it hurts, but you have to move on. Find your own happiness." She sounded sincere.
"Thank you. I'm sorry for putting you on the spot."
"Think nothing of it. I just… didn't expect my cousin to steal someone's girlfriend. On his behalf—I'm sorry."
"He's a good man. I can't blame him." Fang Tianzhuo forced a smile.
"Mr. Fang, you're impressive. Donghua's recent moves—they're your ideas, aren't they?" She seemed to read his mind, hitting the mark.
He didn't deny it. Wang Zhixin was no ordinary girl.
"How can you be sure?" He feigned innocence.
"Donghua and Zhengyang are rivals. We track your every move—personnel shifts, strategies. I've heard uncle and cousin talk about you, in passing." She admitted.
Alarm shot through him. Few knew the details of Donghua's Tianfu meetings. Zhengyang's inside knowledge suggested a mole—likely among the board or executives. No wonder Luo hadn't kept him fully informed, relying instead on Rui Jie. Did Luo suspect him? Cold sweat prickled his back.
"Mr. Fang? You okay?" She noticed his pallor.
"Fine. Just… touched by your honesty." He lied, quickly.
"Heh. You're a good man, Mr. Fang. Interesting. Friends?"
"Absolutely. We already are, aren't we?" He smiled, relieved.