On the way back, Chen Jin was on the phone almost the entire time—calling and answering, issuing detailed instructions one moment, exploding in anger the next. After he finally hung up, he leaned back in his seat with a long exhale, then raised a hand to knead the bridge of his nose. Exhaustion was written all over him.
Lin Wan knew he hadn't slept properly the night before. His phone had buzzed with calls all through the night, people reporting updates one after another. He'd turned it to vibrate and left it by his pillow, getting up at least five or six times. At dawn, he'd rushed straight onto the first flight home.
By the time they landed in City B, it was already four in the afternoon. Once they left the airport expressway, Chen Jin told the driver to take Lin Wan home, while he himself switched to his secretary's car and went directly to the company. Before getting out, he reminded her once again to go back and sleep properly.
Looking at the bloodshot redness in his eyes, Lin Wan still didn't manage to say the one sentence that had been pacing back and forth in her mind all day.
If she brought up leaving now… wouldn't that just make everything worse?
She mocked herself for being absurdly soft-hearted—even as the first thing she did after getting home was open her laptop. It didn't take long for her to find out what had happened at Zhicheng.
Yesterday morning, a man claiming to be a former employee of Zhicheng's purchasing department had posted on a well-known forum. He accused his supervisor of accepting kickbacks from suppliers and using substandard materials for the finishes in Zhicheng's fully furnished apartments. The employee even attached email correspondence as evidence. According to him, the formaldehyde emissions from the material exceeded the legal limit by five times and posed a serious threat to human health.
The explosive post spread quickly online. Public outrage grew fierce, but no one was more agitated than the recent buyers of Zhicheng's apartments. Yesterday afternoon, owners had already started flocking to various sales offices to demand answers. This morning, large groups of them united and marched to Zhicheng's headquarters, unfurling protest banners. On the banners, bold slogans screamed: "We refuse to live in death-trap homes!" and "Zhicheng, Zhicheng—where is your integrity?"
The scene was tense and chaotic, drawing crowds of bystanders. Even television reporters showed up with cameras on their shoulders.
—
As soon as news reached him yesterday afternoon, Chen Jin ordered an emergency internal investigation and released an official statement online. Its core promises boiled down to three points: thorough investigation, immediate suspension, and full accountability.
At six o'clock that evening, Zhicheng held a press conference. Chen Jin personally addressed the crisis. He first apologized to all apartment owners for the negative impact of the incident, then announced that the internal investigation had confirmed the existence of kickbacks, and that the people involved would be handed over to judicial authorities.
He went on to declare that Zhicheng had already begun a comprehensive reinspection and that final test results would be released in ten days. If they found any real quality issues, Zhicheng would bear full responsibility. Whatever losses the owners suffered, Zhicheng would compensate in full.
Sitting in front of her computer, watching the video of Chen Jin speaking, Lin Wan noted that he had changed into a dark suit. There was no trace of a sleepless night or the fatigue of travel on his face. His expression was composed, his gaze steady. Just by standing there, he exuded a solid sense of reliability.
She had to admit that, at that moment, the man on the screen was someone who truly knew how to shoulder responsibility.
When Chen Jin finally came home that night, it was already the dead of night. The sound of the door opening woke Lin Wan instantly. She listened as he moved quietly around the room, showered, lifted the covers, and slipped into bed. Then he inched over and nestled against her, burying his face in the hollow of her shoulder. As always, he brushed her hair forward impatiently, as if it were in his way. His warm breath skimmed over the sensitive skin at her neck, carrying the cool scent of mint.
In the darkness, Lin Wan opened her eyes and let out a silent sigh.
For several days in a row, Chen Jin came home late. But no matter how late it was—even four or five in the morning—he always came back. And he always called first.
Lin Wan thought it was unnecessary, but habit had already rooted itself between them. Every time she hung up, she would drift into a daze for a while, unable to pinpoint what she felt—only that there was a quiet, bitter ache in her chest.
It was as if Chen Jin were trying to grasp every second he still had with her. Every night he would hold her tightly, even if he didn't do anything else. That wordless intimacy unstrung her nerves more than any overt act. She no longer dared to meet his eyes—because they were always brimming with reluctant attachment.
—
Lin Wan kept telling herself not to think too much about him, yet every time she went online, she couldn't help clicking open the latest news about Zhicheng.
On the ninth morning, Zhicheng officially released the test results: the formaldehyde levels were indeed five times over the limit. At the same time, they announced their plan of action—a unit-by-unit sweep and reinstallation of over five thousand fully furnished apartments across several developments where the problematic material had been used.
Zhicheng openly acknowledged the quality issue and promised remedial measures, earning widespread praise for its frankness. But the consequences were still severe: the brand had taken a hit, the stain would not wash off easily, and sales at other concurrent projects had dropped noticeably.
And then, before one wave had settled, another crashed down.
On the tenth day, a new headline broke. Zhicheng's earlier application for a two-billion-yuan loan had been rejected by several banks on the grounds of "tight cash flow and high project risk." Industry insiders leaked that Zhicheng's capital chain had already snapped. Multiple projects were on the brink of shutdown. Zhicheng, seven years after its founding, had stepped into its coldest winter yet.
—
Meanwhile, in Chen Jin's office at Zhicheng's headquarters, Xiang Yang flung his phone onto the sofa, cursing,
"Still not picking up, fuck. A bunch of ungrateful bastards. When everything was smooth sailing, they were chasing after us just for a sip of the soup. Now that there's a bit of trouble, they've scattered faster than rabbits."
Chen Jin sat behind his desk, flipping through the financial report his secretary had just delivered. Without looking up, he said,
"Calm down. That's just what banks are like. Besides, you know perfectly well this mess has nothing to do with them."
Xiang Yang snorted, then shifted into a tone of helpless resignation.
"Yeah, well, you managed to offend the worst possible people. Of all the families, you just had to pick the Zhangs. From the Ministry of Finance to the Banking Regulatory Commission—anything to do with money, they've got someone in the chair. One word from them and the entire financial sector has you blacklisted."
Chen Jin's movements paused for a beat, but he still said nothing, continuing to read. Xiang Yang walked over and dropped into the chair opposite, grinning as he joked,
"Bro, why don't you just swallow your pride and marry Miss Zhang? Sacrifice your happiness, bless the masses—one for the greater good, right? Hahaha."
Chen Jin gave a short, derisive laugh, tossed the papers aside, leaned back, and rubbed his temples lazily.
"I'm not that noble. I'd rather drag millions into the grave with me than sacrifice myself for them."
"This is what you get for choosing the wrong camp," Xiang Yang sighed dramatically. "I'm out of ideas. My old man's been warning me day and night not to cause trouble in times like these. If I push him now, he'll skin me alive. Why don't you ask your grandfather to say a few words? No matter how arrogant the Zhangs are, they still have to show the old man some respect, right?"
Chen Jin shook his head.
"Forget it. The old man had been getting on for years and quick to anger. We're already struggling to keep all this from him. If something happens to him because of this, I won't be able to live with myself. I'd rather lose the company than drag my own family down with me. But don't worry. This started because of me—I'll find a way to fix it."