Tonight, the flowers bloom only for you.

Tonight, the flowers bloom only for you.

(Word count: 26,000
) (Part 1)
The female owner of Lanyu Restaurant felt that this morning was different from usual. After most of the breakfast customers had left, she glanced at the man sitting by the window and suddenly understood why she had this feeling.
Since the building across the street was completed a year ago, this man had been a regular at her restaurant, always alone, always eating breakfast, always in a hurry, as if he was about to embark on a long journey after finishing his meal.
For two people who saw each other almost every day for a year, they should have established some kind of connection, at least they should know each other. However, the female owner wasn't sure if she knew this man. She didn't know his name, what he did, where he lived, whether he had a wife, or how many children he had.
All the information the female owner had gathered about this man over the past year was as follows: he was probably between 30 and 50 years old; he worked in the building across the street, or was a bachelor; perhaps a manager or general manager.
Of course, it wouldn't be objective to say there was no interaction between her and the man. At least their eyes had met, and she had greeted him with polite phrases like "Good morning" or "Take care," to which he would often nod in response. At one point, his hesitant gaze even stirred a vulgar impulse within her. But most of the time, they were like two dogs passing each other, exchanging a fleeting glance before heading off to find their own food.
Today, the female boss felt something was different because the man's breakfast was taking far too long. She felt she hadn't done anything all morning; it was as if she had been waiting for him to put down his utensils, stand up, nod at her, and leave the restaurant. But the man seemed to know her thoughts, stubbornly remaining seated.
The female boss was getting impatient. She decided to go over and greet him, perhaps they could talk about something on this autumn morning—the dry weather, the plummeting stock market—or maybe she could simply use her charm to seduce him. But she immediately dismissed the idea. She noticed the man's back, facing the window, resembled a statue. A sudden surge of annoyance rose in the proprietress's heart.
The street gradually filled with pedestrians. Two elementary school students skipped past the window, followed by a plump young woman, then all sorts of men and women, young and old, all hurrying along with cheerful expressions. The leaves on the trees lining the street
, green all summer, seemed weary and changed color. No one could remember when the last rain had fallen. The air was unusually dry, and dust kicked up by vehicles and pedestrians floated in the air like a thin layer of yellow mist. The proprietress quickly went to the door and slammed it shut. She suddenly felt she couldn't bear to see these tiny, dirty sprites floating in the air entering her restaurant. She went back behind the bar, put a CD in the player, and as Dao Lang's songs filled every corner of the restaurant, she glanced at the man again, a sudden pang of guilt washing over her: she really shouldn't have disturbed this man's rare moment of peace.
Dao Lang's hoarse yet passionate singing did not interrupt Mingqian's continuous thoughts. Although he faced the window, he was oblivious to the passersby on the street; he was too focused.
Although he had considered the plan half a month ago and made ample preparations for its smooth implementation, he still felt uneasy. After all, this plan was too important to him, as important as the Normandy landings were to World War II. The success or failure of the plan would be enough to change the rest of his life. Therefore, he named the implementation date of the plan "D-Day," modeled after the Normandy landings.
Today was Mingqian's "D-Day"—September 28, 2004.
According to the original plan, he would make a phone call in his office later today. This phone call would be like the gavel in an auction house; once the gavel fell, the decision would be final, and all his plans and schemes would become an unchangeable reality. In other words, he would be using the rest of his life as capital to buy an unpredictable future. So, on this sunny, dusty autumn morning, dubbed "D," he ate breakfast while sorting through his thoughts and calming his restless heart.
The female restaurant owner finally saw the man stand up, and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, but then tense up, her heart pounding, because she saw that he wasn't heading towards the restaurant door as usual, but towards the bar—towards her.
The man stopped in front of her, his expression still hesitant, but a hint of a smile in his eyes. "What time does your restaurant close at night?" his voice was calm, as if chatting casually with an old acquaintance.
"It varies…it depends on the number of customers…" The female restaurant owner wasn't sure if the man was asking about the restaurant's closing time or her departure time. Could he be thinking…? A familiar impulse surged within her again in an instant; she could even feel a slight dampness between her legs, like the feeling of her first period.
The man noticed the blush creeping onto the female restaurant owner's face. "I'll have dinner here tonight, but I have some things to take care of, so I might be a little late. By the way, I like Dao Lang's songs." The man stared at her for a moment, then turned and left the restaurant without waiting for the female owner to speak.
Watching his departing figure, the female owner touched her slightly flushed cheeks. Was this an agreement? A promise? A beginning? Or an ending? Whatever it was, the female owner felt she had many things to do today; it was sure to be a busy day.
In this western city, only the night was truly captivating; the dust and heat of the daytime had vanished with a cool autumn breeze. Although it was already eleven o'clock at night, the endless stream of cars still flowed tirelessly and seemingly aimlessly through the streets and alleys. Soft light shone from the two windows of the Lanyu Restaurant, illuminating a few people still chatting outside. The restaurant owner, Mo Yao, smiled warmly as she saw off the last table of guests, her expression like that of someone bidding farewell to a beloved family member, earnestly urging them to return soon.
"Sister Yao, we're leaving now." Several female restaurant servers said goodbye to her. One of the chubby girls laughed, "Sister Yao, we were so busy we forgot to tell you, you look so beautiful today!" She then ran off laughing.
This little thing complimented my appearance; doesn't she think I'm beautiful too? A slight smile played on her lips, revealing a confident expression. Her confidence came from the countless mirrors she saw every day—mirrors that reflected the eyes of the men who frequented Lanyu Restaurant.
She closed the restaurant door, shutting out another ordinary, arduous day into the darkness. Mo Yao went into a small room behind the bar, her lounge. A short nap here at noon had become a habit she'd developed over the past two years. The room contained a single bed, a small desk beside it, and opposite the bed a double sofa and a glass coffee table. On the coffee table were four or five plates, each with a bowl covered, concealing the steam and aroma.
Mo Yao took a bottle of wine from the bedside table and gently placed it on the coffee table. She hesitated for a moment, then picked up the bottle and put it back in the cabinet.
How could I explain this to him? "There's no one outside, let's eat here." That didn't sound right. "I haven't eaten either, let's eat together." That seemed more plausible. "It's quieter here..." But there's no one outside to bother us! "Just the two of us, let's have a drink together, we..." Ugh! Mo Yao covered her slightly flushed face with her hands.
There was the sound of a door opening outside. Mo Yao hurriedly stepped out of the lounge. The man had already emerged from the darkness outside into the restaurant's light, his clothes and expression exactly the same as when he left that morning. He would never change.
"This is for you." Only then did Mo Yao notice the bouquet of yellow roses in the man's hand. The black briefcase had been replaced by yellow roses.
She took the flowers, smelled them, and gently stroked a few petals with her hand. Looking up, she saw the man tilting his head slightly, looking at her. Being scrutinized by him made her feel a mix of unease and shyness.
"Come in!" Mo Yao turned and walked into the lounge, like a puppy that had just been petted by its owner, happily leading the way with its treat in its mouth.
The man didn't stand on ceremony, following her in. After looking around briefly, he sat down on the sofa as if he were at home. Mo Yao placed the flowers in a vase on the desk. "The head chef was about to leave, so he cooked the dishes early. I wonder..." "I'm easygoing, you can eat with me." The man began to uncover the bowl. *Does
your easygoing attitude mean I have to be easygoing too?* Thinking to herself, she walked over and sat down next to the man, forcing a bitter smile. "I've been busy all day, just finished cleaning up, haven't even had time for dinner." Why be so hypocritical?
"I know," the man replied without looking up.
You know! You know everything. Do you know what I've been busy with today? I went into fashion boutiques, lingerie stores, beauty salons, I was eager to get all the customers out as soon as possible. Just now, I was practicing my smile and rehearsing my lines. You know! You know how much this outfit cost, you know how fashionable my hairstyle is, you know where my fragrance comes from, you... do you know how much I've thought about you this past year? I... I'm so pathetic! Her eyes were already brimming with tears, these annoying, inexplicable tears.
"Are you hungry? The food's still hot, come and eat with me." The man handed her a pair of chopsticks. As he took the chopsticks, he looked into her eyes. The glistening tears and the small room created a romantic atmosphere in his heart, like the light spilling into the small space. So, the food he had intended to put in his own mouth was placed in the small bowl in front of Mo Yao. "Since you ordered the food, it must be something you like, right?" "Don't you like it?" Why did she keep saying such suggestive things tonight? What did she dislike? The food or the man? Mo Yao was a little angry with herself, so she simply stopped talking and buried her head in the food the man had put on her plate, finding it tasteless, as if she were eating her own saliva.
"How could I! I'm never picky. Besides, the restaurant owner ordered it himself, so it can't be wrong. I'm enjoying VIP treatment." The man even joked.
"You're used to eating at fancy hotels! My little place wouldn't dare offer VIP treatment." The man's joke made Mo Yao feel much more relaxed. "We also offer drinks. Since it's VIP treatment, wouldn't you like to order some?"
The feeling she had hidden away in the bedside table was brought back to her mind. Was this man really a coward? Could alcohol really embolden a man? Or was she just timid and needed a little stimulation? Or was she trying to cover something up with alcohol? Mo Yao bit her rosy lips and walked to the bedside table, bending down. Her rounded buttocks, encased in fine cotton trousers, were raised high, causing the man to put down his chopsticks. His meaningful gaze seemed to tear through the taut cotton fabric, revealing that snow-white desire.
He was watching; don't turn around, let him see. Weren't there men watching here every day? But who gave her this urge, this feeling of the tide overflowing its banks?
Mo Yao took two wine glasses from the bar. She should have only taken one, but she couldn't control herself. The red liquid had already stained her cheeks and intoxicated her heart before she even drank it.
"Running this restaurant alone must be tough, right?" The man lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill the space between them, hoping it would slightly block the heat and fragrance emanating from the woman beside him. "How do you know I'm alone?" Mo Yao looked at the man provocatively, holding her wine glass. "Yes, alcohol really does embolden, it really does mask one's true nature, otherwise why would my tone be like this..." "Just guessing, isn't it?" The man watched the bright red liquid flow into her equally bright red lips, the erotic atmosphere in his crotch growing increasingly intense. The man stood up, took off his suit jacket, and Mo Yao took it from him as they left the lounge. When he returned, he noticed her coat was gone; a white silk short-sleeved shirt was tucked into her waistband, making her look like an innocent high school student. There aren't many innocent high school students left these days.
The man stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. Mo Yao had just sat down beside him when one of his arms wrapped around her waist, the movement, the naturalness, like that of a long-married couple. Mo Yao, like a willow in the wind, weakly and helplessly leaned against the man, not forgetting to gasp in surprise beforehand. The full meaning of that gasp was: What a rough move, how unexpected! How could he do this?
The man remained there, his eyes fixed on the beautiful face in his arms, a finger gently touching her rosy lips. As the man gently unbuttoned the top two buttons of Mo Yao's shirt, her body began to tremble inexplicably. No, she had to do something, she had to do something. "I...I don't even know...your name yet." The man's lips were already on her earlobe. "Otherwise, why would you be trembling like this? It's a trembling that intoxicates men." These two dogs, who had always only exchanged fleeting glances for a year, finally had a chance to stop and sniff each other's scent.
"Not here...on the bed..." When her pink strapless bra was exposed to the man, and one of her full breasts was cupped by a large hand, Mo Yao's face turned even redder, and she shivered as if she were cold. He had already taken her; it was too late. Should she stop him? But how could she stop the surging tide between her legs?
Mo Yao lay on the bed, her shirt completely open, the pink strapless bra highlighting her equally rosy skin. That intoxicating allure was half due to the heat of the alcohol, and the other half from the man's eyes and the shame that had not yet been completely overwhelmed by desire. The man knelt by the bed, his tongue caressing the woman's neck and the soft flesh along the edge of her bra. One hand gently stroked her slightly protruding, full belly, the tremors from which gushed forth streams of fluid, leaving her crotch soaked.
"I'm going to strip you naked now, let me see if your body is as I imagined, let me take a good look at your buttocks, they're so full." The man's voice was low, almost to himself.
Mo Yao's hands frantically tried to cover herself, pointlessly resisting the man's touch, appearing too weak, so weak that even she felt ashamed. In truth, she just wanted to avoid the man's greedy eyes.
The man's hands were so determined, his target so clear. When the underwear she had just bought that day was removed, Mo Yao completely gave up resisting, covering her face with her hands and turning her head away from the bed. "Oh, look, look, look! Look what you've done to me! Look how wanton I am in your hands! I just want you to pamper me for one night.
" "Just as beautiful as I imagined. You can tell this little bun even when you're wearing pants. Don't wear tight pants anymore; every man fantasizes about this place. It's already soaking wet, it's ready..." The man looked at her there, gently pinching her sparse pubic hair with a few fingers. A glimmer of light shone through her slightly parted vulva. "Turn around! Let me see your ass." The man's tone sounded like a plea and a command.
"What a beautiful ass! A woman can't be without a butt; it's more important than her face. Even with a butt like this in my pants, it can make me hard." The man gently played with the woman's beautiful buttocks, which were raised high on the bed, as if appraising an antique. Occasionally, he would stick out his tongue and lick the buttocks, causing them to tremble slightly. "If you like...
then come from behind!" Mo Yao's inner itch had surpassed her physical desire. Come from behind! Men are all like this, they play with a woman's butt first, and only think about playing with her face last. Men who only look at the butt and not the face are all lies.
The man stood up and began to undress. Mo Yao closed her eyes, imagining the man unbuckling his belt, his naked body, his erect penis. Her body trembled again, a warm sensation soaking the sheets below her abdomen. "I'm such a slut! No, no, no! I'm just a woman. My eternal wound needs a man's comfort."
The man stood by the bedside, facing the woman lying prone, gently rubbing his hard penis with one hand, while another hand softly stroked her hair, brushing it aside to reveal her snow-white neck. "Come touch it, it's warm." He took one of her hands and placed it on his penis. The woman resisted; when he released her, her hand slipped off and fell limply onto the bed. The man didn't force her. He moved her body, shifting her buttocks to the edge of the bed, her legs dangling to the floor. It was coming, really from behind. As the man's glans touched her labia, Mo Yao suddenly stretched one arm back, seemingly to stop his entry, but ended up simply placing it on his thigh.
The man's entry was decisive and powerful, plunging his entire penis into her vagina in one go. A sudden, intense contraction gripped her deep inside, accompanied by a soft, almost painful moan from the woman, followed by a rapid series of thrusts, like a machine gun relentlessly pounding into her depths.
He's in. Just like that, he's in. How long has it been since a man entered her there? A year. She'd only ever wanted this man to enter her, and now he was finally in, playing with her, manipulating her, raping her, fucking her. Oh! He's so cruel, but I really like it, I like it when he's even crueler, punish me severely, punish this slutty and wanton woman. Mo Yao sobbed softly amidst the man's violent thrusts.
The man stopped, crawled over, and whispered in her ear, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He then began sucking on her earlobe, reaching out to grab and knead one of her breasts. Mo Yao continued sobbing, shaking her head, swaying her round hips back to meet the man's penis. She could feel her own juices shamelessly flowing down her thighs, wriggling like worms, tickling her.
Unable to resist, she turned her head, finding the man's mouth and offering her tongue. He sucked and sucked, causing her to squeeze her thighs together, her round buttocks rubbing against his lower abdomen.
The man's breathing quickened, he straightened up, gripping her buttocks, and thrusting even more violently. Mo Yao cried out, turning back to look at the man's thrusting, her lust reaching its peak. "Please…" she cried, her eyes fixed on the man, her face flushed, but not from shame, but from the man's intense violation of her body. "Please...let me lie down...I'll...raise my legs high...so you can..." The man didn't let go, only bringing her legs together, rotating her hips 180 degrees around his penis, and she lay there on her back.
"I can't take it...I can't...it's been so long since I've been like this...please hold me..." Mo Yao's legs tightly gripped the man's waist, her arms wrapped around the man's neck as he leaned over her, her face pressed against his chest, her raised hips repeatedly pushed back onto the bed by the man, the sounds of their genitals colliding proving the madness of their bodies.
"Open your eyes...look at me...I'm going to cum on you..." the man panted heavily.
"I'm going to...cum on you too...cum to death...cum on my balls...cum inside my uterus..." Oh! My man! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! Fuck my cunt with your penis!
The man's roars and the woman's cries mingled with a desperate, lingering passion... The passion gradually cooled in the autumn chill. Mo Yao curled up in the man's arms, enjoying his gentle caresses and kisses. "What a wonderful woman! There will always be something left in this world, like you..." The man's occasional whispers couldn't comfort her heart. She knew this was just the end. She stared at the man's face; this was definitely not the expression of a man who was about to start a new life. After smelling each other's scent, when the sun rose tomorrow, they would each go their separate ways again.
Mingqian was awakened from his sleep by a noise. He checked the time; it was six in the morning. Listening closely, he realized a strong wind was blowing outside, rattling a small, open window. He quietly got up and closed it. He saw the woman sleeping soundly, half her buttocks and thighs exposed outside the blanket, looking so pale in the darkness. He returned to bed and gently covered her with the blanket. The annoying autumn sounds had completely banished any sleepiness he felt. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and leaned against the headboard, smoking as he thought about the last few things he needed to do that morning. With that thought, he reached for an ID card on the small desk. It was the one Mingqian had used to coax Mo Yao into showing him her age after their passionate encounter last night. The photo on the ID card looked like it was taken four or five years ago, but compared to the woman before him, he felt she was much more attractive now. But none of that mattered. What mattered was that this ID card had become part of his plan. Mingqian had originally planned to have someone make a fake one; there were fake ID card forgers plastered everywhere. After careful consideration, Mingqian believed that fake ID cards posed several potential dangers, such as being spotted by a sharp-eyed female bank employee, with disastrous consequences. This ID card was perfect: out-of-town residency, single woman, no formal job, and most importantly, the holder had absolutely no connection to him. Really no connection? Before tonight? No? After a night of passion, could she still say she had no connection whatsoever? Perhaps it was all preordained from the very first day he stepped into the restaurant, that he was destined to be entangled with this woman. Since this ID card had become part of the plan, why not make its owner part of the plan as well? No! That would increase the risk immensely. Besides, why drag an innocent person into a gamble with no clear winner? So far, there was no indication that this woman was a gambler. She was living a good life, just a little lonely, but what did loneliness matter in this world? Philosophers could be lonely, but could ordinary people and the wealthy be lonely?
Mingqian leaned against the headboard, lost in thought, until the cigarette burned his fingers, jolting him awake. He glanced at his watch, then quietly got dressed, slipping the ID card into his pocket. He bent down to look at the sleeping woman; her cheeks were still flushed, her breathing as soft as a spring breeze, and even lying still, he could feel the softness of her body. "What a wonderful woman!" He gently stroked her hair, then turned and left.
For the past six months, Mingqian had been forcing himself not to think about those unpleasant things. He was afraid that the raging fire in his chest would burn him and make him lose his mind, and he didn't want to be worried, depressed, and idle all day because of these things. He needed to forget. Just like his secretary Tang Yang said, he should treat his brain like a computer hard drive infected with a virus and format it, completely deleting all the memories. However, the brain is not a computer after all. There are too many crevices and ravines in the depths of the brain. Those painful and disappointing past events usually hide in some secret corner, but when you are not paying attention, in the dead of night, or before and after the wind and rain, they will reappear in the form of images in your mind, scene by scene. At this moment, Mingqian felt as if he was being pulled by an invisible hand, helplessly and desperately being overwhelmed by the waves of memories, one after another. Time became a river flowing backward, and memories were connected to memories.
Although Mingqian had only been the chairman's assistant of the group company for two years, he already felt like he was on his last legs.
According to the group company's new strategic decision, the massive ship that had been sailing in the real estate market was suddenly changing course and heading into a new territory. For Mingqian and most of the company's veterans, this was unfamiliar waters. They knew nothing about the depth, the waves, the winds, or the hidden reefs. However, Han Zheng, the group company's chairman and general manager, had already planned ahead. If Wang Hui and Mingqian were to continue steering this massive ship in this new territory, it would be extremely dangerous. It could easily veer off course, run aground, sink, or become lost in the stormy seas. Han Zheng clearly understood that this massive ship needed a new captain, a boatswain, and a seasoned, experienced navigator to have any hope of reaching his ideal destination.
After careful consideration and weighing the pros and cons, Han Zheng quietly arranged a trip to the south for himself. Before leaving, he didn't give his subordinates any of the usual tedious instructions or even hold a meeting. He simply asked Mingqian to tell the heads of each company that he, longing to see his daughter, would be visiting her in the south with his wife to enjoy the warm southern sunshine.
Mingqian had no doubts about his boss's explanation, finding it all perfectly reasonable. The company currently had little business, and the few projects they had were only in the preliminary negotiation stage, which the boss didn't value, treating them as optional. The strategic ideas the boss occasionally revealed about the company were completely incomprehensible to everyone, let alone something to implement. Under these circumstances, everyone from the general manager to the employees was in a relaxed state. Since the employees were so idle, and the boss was going out to see his beloved daughter and relax, who would suspect any premeditation? Of course not. So, during the ten-odd days the boss was away, everyone felt a sense of relaxed unease. From the group's deputy general manager to the department managers, they spent their days eating and drinking, or endlessly playing cards in the office.
Mingqian, on the other hand, hid in his office with his female secretary, Tang Yang, telling jokes that made her blush and enjoying her playful punches and coquettishness. Only Wang Hui, the general manager of the real estate company, maintained a semblance of clarity.
One day, he said to Mingqian with some worry, "I'm getting impatient. Not having any projects isn't a good thing.
" Mingqian replied, "It's not the emperor who's worried, it's the eunuchs who are anxious. Sometimes, not having projects is not a problem. It's not terrible; you can just support a few people. What's terrible is investing in the wrong projects. Have you forgotten the lesson from two years ago?" Wang Hui retorted sarcastically, "Your tone is starting to sound more and more like the chairman." Then the two of them burst into hearty laughter.
Han Zheng had returned to City B without a sound. Mingqian only learned of his boss's return three days later, when the boss personally called to instruct him to arrange a chairman's office meeting the following day, without revealing the agenda. Mingqian wanted to ask, but his boss had already hung up, leaving him with an ominous premonition.
It all started with this office meeting. Everything had been meticulously planned by Han Zheng. His actions were swift, decisive, and powerful, leaving no room for anyone to maneuver. Within a short month, the newly arrived team had practically taken over all departments of the company. The veteran employees all received the same instructions: unconditional support... To facilitate the work of the newly appointed executives, any obstruction, hindrance, or unfriendly behavior was considered detrimental to the company, or even seen as opposing Han Zheng. These "new elites"—as Wang Hui called them—with Han Zheng's strong support and tacit approval, purged the company's veteran employees. To target some of the management veterans, Han Zheng gave the position of general manager to Zhao Zhigang from Beijing, while he himself retreated behind the scenes.
For several years after the group's founding, Han Zheng served as both chairman and general manager. Even Wang Hui, the highly respected general manager of the real estate company, only held the title of deputy general manager of the group; Han Zheng never intended to create an executive deputy general manager position. For the past five years, except for the first two years of the company's establishment, Han Zheng consistently maintained a considerable distance between himself and his subordinates through the arrangement of positions. The distance is basically proportional to the company's asset growth. Today, Han Zheng has successfully built a high wall around himself, symbolizing power and authority, with his former associates only able to circle this wall and constantly be mindful of maintaining a proper distance.
Therefore, faced with an outsider ascending to the position of general manager and dining and traveling alongside the chairman, some are jealous, some are resentful, and some even become arrogant, openly defiant, and disobey orders. Wang Hui was one of them.
At a meeting, his anger erupted like a drunkard's uncontrollable vomit, unleashing a torrent of vulgarities upon the newly rich present, calling them things like "children's penises," "unrewarded turtles," and "the trick of discarding a useful tool after it has served its purpose," and subtly mentioning some shady dealings. As he said this, he glanced at Mingqian. It seemed they wanted Mingqian to testify. Finally, Han Zheng, his face ashen, stopped Wang Hui's anger, saying that since Mr. Wang couldn't control his emotions, the meeting would be postponed.
In the following week, Wang Hui and Han Zheng had several private conversations behind closed doors; no one knows the details. It was Tang Yang who unwittingly told Mingqian that the two had a heated argument, the sound of which wasn't completely absorbed by the soundproofing, leaking out from the gap between the door and the carpet. Han Zheng's female secretary first heard it and then told Tang Yang. The final conclusion... Indeed, Mingqian remembered it was a Saturday. The company was quiet with few people. Wang Hui, accompanied by three security guards, handed over the paperwork to General Manager Zhao Zhigang. Mingqian didn't leave his office to say goodbye to Wang Hui, even though they had been together for five years. Mingqian instructed Tang Yang to lock the door and not let anyone in. Then, he spent the entire morning reclining in his chair reading a book called *Dangerous Liaisons*. It was about the struggle between Mossad and Arab jihadists.
Afterwards, with General Manager Zhao Zhigang's direct involvement, Han Zheng began to hold private conversations with people more frequently. In less than three months, very few of the managers who had joined the company with Mingqian remained. This ruthless purge filled Mingqian with a sense of shared fate, a feeling of dread that he might soon be next. He knew perfectly well why he was still clinging to power; it wasn't out of Han Zheng's pity or charity, nor was it due to his contributions to the company—how could he compare to Wang Hui in terms of contributions? It was for a subtle reason. Despite this, Mingqian felt an indescribable indignation at Han Zheng's use of outsiders to purge his old comrades.
Driven by this indignation, Mingqian decided to speak to the boss at the appropriate time. Perhaps it wasn't the boss's true intention, but rather a result of being misled by the new hires. He shared his thoughts with Tang Yang.
"Wake up, my brother," Tang Yang said sympathetically.
Looking at his secretary's serious face, Mingqian couldn't help but joke with her. "Ever since I tasted your fine wine, I've wished I could stay drunk forever!" Tang Yang ignored Mingqian's teasing and continued on his own. "Didn't you say you wanted to run your own bookstore? Let's open one, instead of having to put up with other people's attitudes every day." "I'm not willing to accept that," Mingqian said resentfully. Looking at the beautiful woman beside him, he felt a surge of ideas. He turned and picked up the phone on his desk, telling his secretary, "Call your mom." "Why?" "Just tell her that tonight..." Tang Yang blushed and scolded, "It wasn't just yesterday... tonight won't work, my little cousin is coming, she's been pestering me." Seeing the man's slightly disappointed expression, he comforted him, "Why don't you plan something for yourself tonight? Like, go to a bar for a drink, wouldn't that be cool?" He then gave Mingqian a light kiss on the cheek and drifted away.
Mingqian sat in his car, watching the Arabic numerals flashing on the red traffic light ahead, a wave of annoyance washing over him. This damn rush hour, this damn traffic jam—when will people be able to drive cars that can fly through the air? But even that wouldn't work, unless people grew eyes on the top of their heads. Lost in thought, he heard a cacophony of horns behind him; the traffic light had changed color. "What the hell are you yelling at?"
Mingqian drove on, completely lost. He had no desire to go home; besides, it wasn't really home. Three years ago, after divorcing his wife, he bought a three-bedroom apartment in Happiness Villa as his place to live, but he hadn't lived there much. He slept in his office more often. Of course, back then, Mingqian was still very career-minded, often boasting to his employees that he considered the company his home. After Tang Yang came along, he was able to sleep peacefully there for a while. However, Tang Yang lived with his mother, so for Mingqian, she was at most a weekend lover or a holiday lover. But he developed a bad habit: whenever Tang Yang was not around, he would be restless in that house, and would often call Tang Yang in the middle of the night as a sleeping pill before going to bed.
Turning the corner at the gravel road, just as he was about to reluctantly turn back home, he saw the huge, gleaming characters of "Bank of Communications of China" hanging in the air ahead, and suddenly an idea struck him. He picked up his phone and dialed a number.
"Director, do you have any plans for tonight?" Mingqian asked. "If not, let's meet at our usual spot. Same old rules, I'll pay, you provide the people." The place Mingqian came to was probably unknown to many in B City, because its storefront was small, and the words "Yashi Restaurant" above the door looked rather stingy. Anyone with a little money would turn away with disdain at the storefront, and those without money would likely politely admit they'd come to the wrong place once they reached the upper floors. It turned out that while the exterior was ordinary, the upper floors were a completely different world. Aside from its size, the luxurious decor was no less than that of a five-star hotel, and the interior design was winding and secluded, with a total of eight suites named after: Famous Stone, Rare Stone, Ancient Stone, Jade Stone, Elegant Stone, Strange Stone, Cold Stone, and Flint. Most of the diners here are people with some connection to the owner. It's essentially an unbranded private club with very high-end prices, but those who suit the owner's taste often get free meals and drinks.
Mingqian's connection with Huang Zongshi, the owner of the Yashi restaurant, dates back six years. At that time, Mingqian was the deputy director of the reporter department at the B City Evening News. In his spare time, he enjoyed collecting stones. One day, a newspaper article about Huang Zongshi, a collector of rare stones, appeared, and Mingqian found it interesting. He casually asked one of the reporters in the section about it. Seeing that his boss was interested, the reporter contacted Huang Zongshi and invited Mingqian to visit his collection. At that time, Huang Zongshi was the largest supplier of imported liquor in B City; it was said that 90% of the city's imported liquor came from him, and his net worth was in the hundreds of millions. Unexpectedly, this small shared hobby turned two people of vastly different ages and wealth into close friends in the following years. Two years ago, after Huang Zongshi opened the Yashi restaurant, Mingqian became a regular customer.
"Hey! It's Brother Shang!" Zi Hui, who was playing the piano under a money tree, greeted him. Zi Hui was in her early twenties, with a round face. While not exactly a beauty, her curvaceous figure, especially her dark, bright eyes, was captivating. Ming Qian had thought more than once that if he were in bed with her, just being stared at by her intensely expressive eyes would make him ejaculate instantly. But it was just a thought. When they first met, Old Huang's introduction was only one sentence: "This is my dear friend Zi Hui, despite the age gap." Just those three words, "dear friend," were enough to kill any thoughts Ming Qian had about her. He wondered if Old Huang admired her like a stone, and the image of Old Huang examining her body with a magnifying glass flashed through his mind. Thinking about this, an ambiguous smile appeared on Ming Qian's face.
"Hello, Boss Lady!" Ming Qian always called her Boss Lady, and Zi Hui didn't mind.
"Your piano playing is getting better and better. I was listening at the door and forgot I was coming in." "Tch! Don't make people's teeth ache. You're not alone, are you?" "There's more later. You know him, Director Zhao from the Bank of Communications. Where's Lao Huang?" "Who knows where he is? Should we call him?" "No need, I'm talking to a friend about something." "Not just talking about something, but also taking care of something!
" Zi Hui teased Mingqian with her seductive eyes.
Mingqian smiled and didn't say anything, thinking to himself, "I want to take care of you." Mingqian looked at the two ladies sitting in front of him, politely speaking but cursing Lao Zhao in his heart. He suspected that Lao Zhao had just returned from an ugliest contest and brought the winner and runner-up with him. The ones he brought before were all better than these two. Was he deliberately trying to disgust him?
But he also felt sorry for Lao Zhao, since he liked respectable women.
"Come, let me introduce you. This is Ms. Li Yuzhu, the accountant at the Nanjing North Road Savings Office, and this is Ms. Wang Xin from the bank's credit department." Old Zhao turned to Mingqian and said to the two ladies, "This is General Manager Shang from Yahua Group Investment Company." Both ladies stood up, and Mingqian quickly shook their hands. Just then, he was surprised to find that the woman named Li Yuzhu had a huge buttocks, her lower body bulging like a balloon. Mingqian felt aroused just looking at her buttocks. Mingqian had a special fondness for women; he liked women with large, perky buttocks. As long as the buttocks were big and perky enough, he didn't care if the face was less attractive. He never gave a second glance to women with flat buttocks. Even if a woman was a celestial being, she couldn't be called a celestial being without a perky, round buttocks. This was Mingqian's unusual aesthetic standard.
"Yahua Group? I read a report in the newspaper that a homeowners' committee and property management company in a residential community under Yahua Group had a dispute. Security guards injured a homeowner, and as a result, the homeowners' committee kicked the property management company out of the community and even smashed their office. Later, the head of the homeowners' committee was also vandalized by a group of people in the community's supermarket, and they even gang-raped the supermarket's female owner, who was the head of the homeowners' committee's wife. The newspaper was vague, implying that it was done by people from your group. I heard that the police have opened a case for investigation. Mr. Shang, is this true?" Wang Xin's rapid-fire words left Mingqian dizzy, and he gave an awkward laugh. "Ms. Wang Xin, you must have been a reporter! Otherwise, how could you speak so fluently?" Just then, the waiter brought the dishes. "Come on, let's eat and chat." Mingqian then turned to Lao Zhao.
"Ladies, would you like a drink?" Old Zhao patted Mingqian's leg and said, "What are you talking about? Would I, Old Zhao, be friends with someone who doesn't drink? That's a family motto passed down from my grandfather. Brother, watch out for Ruan Xiao'er today." He then laughed heartily, which drew a barrage of playful scolding from the two ladies. Yiqian thought that the women Old Zhao always brought were quite unique—either they could drink, they were capable, or they were ruthless. Today, he brought a big-butt woman, just to cater to his tastes. Nothing in this world is perfect, and thinking this, he found Old Zhao rather endearing. So he became interested. He told the waiter, "Bring Wuliangye." Old Zhao said, "Before we drink, I have something to tell you. The bank has assigned everyone a target this year—to reach a certain amount of savings. You'd better figure out a way to do that, brother.
" Mingqian laughed, "This savings target certainly won't fall on your shoulders, Director." Old Zhao said, "Director! Even the bank manager is no exception. But it's not free work; it's tied to salary and benefits." "Mingqian thought for a moment and said, "It's hard to say how much, but I'll take care of a few hundred thousand. But has the head office approved your application to set up a branch on Central Avenue?"
"Old Zhao said, "I won't forget about that, anyway, there's a chance." "Yuzhu interjected, "President Shang, don't forget about me. What about my mission?" "Old Zhao smiled bitterly and said, "Fine! Friendship is not as good as sex." Yuzhu said coquettishly, "What are you saying?" "Mingqian laughed and said, "I'm not the kind of person who abandons righteousness for sex." The two men and two women burst into laughter.
When Mingqian finished the fourth bottle of Wuliangye, he felt his tongue was starting to ache. He knew that if he continued drinking, he would black out. Fortunately, Lao Zhao was already incapacitated, his head swaying on the table. Wang Xin moved her chair next to Lao Zhao, hugged his head, and said incoherently, "You're just good with your mouth... come on... come on!" Yuzhu laughed loudly, "You men... always want to get women drunk... you can't do it with alcohol." Mingqian said, "Then tell me... what do you do with it?" Yuzhu said, "What do you do with it? You do... just... you do..." At this point, Wang Xin finally managed to get Lao Zhao up. Hearing Yuzhu's words, he said, "I'll do it! Who can't do it with it... let's do it together..." Before he finished speaking, he put his arm around Wang Xin's waist and went into the inner room, locking the door with a bang.
Mingqian wobbled to his feet and plopped down on the sofa, beckoning to Yuzhu, "Little sister, come here... come to your brother..." Yuzhu tripped over the chair and fell onto the carpet, her large buttocks sticking out as she tried to get up. Mingqian pounced on her, saying, "Don't move." He then pressed Yuzhu face down on the carpet, reaching out to touch and pinch her plump buttocks.
Yuzhu said, "What are you doing... trying to be a pervert... is that it..." Mingqian said, "I don't want to be a pervert..."
"...I just want to play with your ass." He said, reaching under the woman's stomach to unbuckle her belt. Yu Zhu twisted her body and said, "My ass isn't there...why are you touching me like that?" Ming Qian said, "I'm unbuckled my belt." Yu Zhu laughed, "I don't have a belt." Ming Qian lifted her clothes from behind and saw she really didn't have a belt. He grabbed her waistband and pulled down hard, pulling down her underwear as well, revealing a plump, white buttock. Yu Zhu exclaimed, "Men are really...things, taking off...my pants on the first time." Ming Qian slapped her white buttock, leaving a red mark. Yu Zhu cried out, "You pervert!" Ming Qian rubbed his face against her buttock a few times and said, "How many men have pulled down your pants?" Yu Zhu said, "Not many...I'm not good-looking..." Ming Qian felt a lump in his throat, feeling sorry for the woman. He started licking her buttock, saying, "No! Your buttock is beautiful...doesn't your husband like it?" "Yuzhu hummed and said, 'I don't like it...it's like a millstone.' Mingqian cursed, 'Your husband...is such an idiot.' Yuzhu said, 'Then do you like big butts?' Mingqian said, 'I like them...' Yuzhu said, 'If you like them, then I'll let you...fuck me...
' Mingqian pulled his pants down halfway and poked his half-erect penis between the woman's buttocks.
Yuzhu laughed and said, 'I knew you couldn't get it in.' Mingqian brought his genitals close to Yuzhu's face and said, 'Lick it for me.' Yuzhu shook her head and said, 'No, I won't.' Mingqian reached out and lifted Yuzhu's face, pressing it against his lower abdomen and said, 'If you don't lick it, I won't fuck your ass.' Yuzhu dodged back and forth a few times but still took the man's penis into her mouth. Mingqian looked down, his eyes blurry with drunkenness, watching the woman swallow and spit out his penis. Occasionally, the woman would look up at him, and he suddenly felt that her eyes were quite like Zihui's. His penis swelled up in the woman's mouth."
Yu Zhu spat out the penis, panting, "Okay, go ahead and fuck me, I'm all wet..." Ming Qian moved behind the woman and gently pushed his penis in, thrusting his hips in and out, slapping the woman's buttocks with a crackling sound as he thrust. Yu Zhu moaned and pushed her hips back, her flesh rippling in waves.
The next day, Ming Qian opened his eyes to find Lao Zhao sleeping on the carpet in the inner room, while he was lying in bed with a woman on his stomach. He parted her hair and saw it was Wang Xin. II.
Ming
Qian sat at his desk in his office, looking at a hotel employee recruitment plan. The effects of last night's alcohol hadn't worn off; the arteries in his temples were throbbing, and his stomach was uncomfortable. His stomach walls had absorbed too much alcohol and were still contracting. He almost vomited after drinking a bowl of porridge at the Lanyu Restaurant across from the office building this morning. The female boss's buttocks were really full, round and perky, much bigger than Tang Yang's. Through the half-open door, Mingqian glanced at Tang Yang, who was photocopying documents outside. She was wearing a straight skirt today, making her buttocks less defined. He wondered what her reaction would be if she knew about his actions with that big-butt guy last night. He
really didn't know what was wrong with him, thinking about such things so early in the morning. He still had to talk to Chairman Han Zheng later. Actually, Mingqian didn't truly believe the boss was being misled by Zhao Zhigang and his ilk; it was just an excuse he made up to avoid believing the facts. It comforted him and provided a plausible explanation for his old comrades' departure. However, he still decided to meet with the boss to further understand his next move.
In the afternoon, after the company employees had left, Mingqian entered the chairman's spacious, luxurious, and exotically decorated office. Pushing open the door, he saw several newly appointed elites sitting inside. They were Zhao Zhigang, the group's general manager, supposedly an elite from Beijing Modern Enterprise Management. Wang Hui had given him the nickname "political cadre," which had already spread throughout the company; he wondered if it had reached Zhao Zhigang's ears. Another was Lin Mingquan, the general manager of the hotel management company. He came from Guangdong, was very eloquent, and spoke fluently. He went straight to the company after getting off the plane, and shamelessly asked for an advance of 20,000 yuan for food and lodging expenses after barely exchanging a few words. Mingqian privately thought he was a conman masquerading as a professional manager, whose main place of origin was Guangdong. The third was a woman in her thirties, objectively speaking, very charming and elegant. What impressed Mingqian most about her was the fragrance of orchids and osmanthus she exuded—a long-lasting orchid scent and a rich osmanthus fragrance. Her choice of perfume reflected her extraordinary taste. Mingqian, unusually, did not feel hostility towards her, even though she had only been with the company for a few days before taking over the human resources department that Mingqian had previously managed. This woman was named Xia Lin.
After Mingqian entered, the people in the room fell silent, all eight pairs of eyes staring at him, each with a mysterious expression. In that instant, Mingqian suddenly realized that everything had changed. He was no longer the trusted and prominent assistant of the chairman, but a janitor who had wandered into the wrong room, a plucked rooster, or even a spy who had infiltrated the company to gather secrets.
From that day on, the distance between Mingqian and his boss grew ever wider, and the boss's attitude towards him became increasingly cold. Sometimes, when they met in the corridor or elsewhere, the boss's expression made it seem as if Mingqian was not his assistant of five years, but a nameless newcomer to the company. Mingqian felt he had been treated unfairly, even insulted. Especially since this insult sometimes took place right under the noses of the newly rich, the indignation deep within him was stirred up by the boss's indifference and insults. Mingqian and Han Zheng
were locked in a cold war. In some ways, it resembled the Cold War between the US and the Soviet Union in the 1960s: both sides engaged in dialogue, but it was all pretense, with ulterior motives; they probed each other, trying to understand the other's true intentions, each wanting to lay traps in places the other didn't expect.
Although Mingqian had lost much of his power and was no longer as influential as before, he wasn't alone. The company's hundred-plus long-term employees were mostly recruited by him. While they wouldn't dare oppose their boss, their nostalgia prevented them from siding with outsiders
. In this conflict between the old and the new, they served as a unique "soft wall," resisting the attacks of the new elites in their own special way. Han Zheng was well aware of Mingqian's influence in the company. Mingqian was different from Wang Hui and his ilk. His relationship with Wang Hui was purely employer-employee; Han Zheng could terminate that relationship at any time, and even if trouble arose, it would only result in a financial loss. But Mingqian had given him too much trust and too many privileges from the beginning, subtly causing him to break down the wall of self-respect he had built. He was too close, so close that he had nowhere to hide his privacy. Sometimes he felt that Mingqian wasn't his employee, but rather someone's eyes watching him—of course, the fact that he was his wife's spy had been confirmed two years ago. Therefore, Han Zheng had often felt uneasy, a feeling that had been lingering for some time. Han Zheng was unsure of his standing in Ming Qian's eyes. He felt that while Ming Qian was outwardly respectful, he inwardly looked down on him because Han Zheng was uncultured and lacked refinement. Although he had plenty of money, Ming Qian believed it was all stolen, "squeezed" from his brothers' pockets. An informant had once told him that Ming Qian had concluded that all nouveau riche were misers. He'd also said that among all the company secretaries in the country, only Han Zheng drove a beat-up Santana to work, yet Ming Qian had coerced Han Zheng into buying him a luxury Mazda. If these were complaints from Wang Hui or other managers, Han Zheng would have simply laughed them off. But coming from Ming Qian, it carried a different meaning. In Ming Qian's eyes, Han Zheng was nothing more than a nouveau riche, a miser. It seemed that Ming Qian had built Han Zheng's empire entirely, making Han Zheng worthless in his eyes. It was no wonder Ming Qian acted so obsequiously when addressing Han Zheng as "boss" or "chairman." This guy was truly cunning. Thinking of Shang Mingqian's cunning, Han Zheng felt as if he had swallowed a fly. Two years ago, Shang Mingqian had been playing dirty tricks on him while simultaneously vying for Tang Yang's affections. Back then, even Wang Hui didn't have a secretary, but Shang Mingqian had given him one. The thought of this made Han Zheng's anger burn, yet he had nowhere to vent it. He, the chairman of the board, with immense wealth, couldn't even compete with one of his assistants. It would be too humiliating if word got out; after all, family scandals shouldn't be aired in public. Besides, this kid was indeed capable; otherwise, how could he have tolerated it until today?
Mingqian, of course, couldn't fathom the intricate thoughts in his boss's mind. He only needed to know one thing: his boss was angry with him, displeased with him, and, as Wang Hui had said, was going to discard him after he had served his purpose. During this period of cold war between Mingqian and Han Zheng, he acted like a detached bystander, arriving at the company on time every day, handling trivial matters, smoking and drinking tea in routine meetings, and listening to the grand pronouncements of the newly appointed executives. He spent
most of his time in the office receiving the disgruntled long-term employees, sometimes offering words of comfort, sometimes giving them advice. A strange phenomenon suddenly appeared in the company. On the one hand, the boss's inner circle was busy setting strategies, developing plans, and issuing rules, while on the other hand, department heads and veteran employees were like
headless flies, unable to find their way. Sometimes, a department would receive two contradictory notices or decisions on the same day
; rumors, both true and false, were spreading throughout the company; small groups
and cliques sprang up like mushrooms after rain; and lower-level department heads acted independently, seemingly becoming independent warlords overnight. These warlords belonged to the company's second generation. They were recruited, trained, and then promoted by Mingqian and his associates. Previously, they were the implementers of various strategic decisions and the backbone of the company's management. Now, however, they had become Mingqian's capital to declare war on the new elites and a bargaining chip in his cold war with Han Zheng. These bargaining chips indignantly declared to Mingqian: We are not afraid of anything. If you have the ability, fire us all! Mingqian comforted them, saying, "That's impossible. Someone has to do the work for the boss!"
The cold war between Mingqian and Han Zheng didn't last long, which was within Mingqian's expectations. Han Zheng was a shrewd and decisive person; he couldn't tolerate the company's chaotic state. Once he identified the root cause of the chaos, he would act without hesitation. Mingqian understood his boss's personality; he knew that one day Han Zheng would deliver a fatal blow, but he didn't know from which direction it would come. He certainly didn't expect it to come so quickly.
Spring in B City always arrives late, and according to the divination symbols foretelling the changing seasons, the Eight Trigrams don't apply to spring in B City. When the first yang energy heralds the budding of spring, City B is still a scene of northern landscape, with snow covering the land; and when the second yang energy arrives, symbolizing the revival of all things, rain and snow still fall, and the spring chill lingers; only when the third yang energy, symbolizing the blooming of a hundred flowers and the vibrant colors of the earth, does the city truly feel the breath of spring, with roadside branches tinged with tender green, and girls in short skirts striking poses. However, spring in City B is so fleeting; a beautiful woman's fleeting glance is followed by the sudden arrival of summer, dry, intense, and full of exotic charm.
Mingqian had been standing at the window of his 30th-floor office for a long time, looking down at the street scene below, which seemed like a window in a computer game—the flow of people, cars, streets, and buildings all seemed unreal. Just like the transfer order and appointment letter he held in his hand, which Tang Yang had personally handed to him ten minutes ago, he couldn't believe it was real; in his eyes, it was a complete mistake: the wrong time, the wrong place.
Both the transfer order and the appointment letter were personally signed by Han Zheng. The content was simple: Mingqian was transferred to the property management company as manager, and Xia Lin was appointed as the new chairman's assistant and human resources director. Almost at the same time Mingqian received the transfer order, Xia Lin called him.
"Assistant Shang, if you have time, I'd like to talk to you." "Now?" "In half an hour." After hanging up, Tang Yang walked in. Mingqian suddenly felt that his female secretary had become much thinner, which made her appear even more delicate and endearing. "Yang'er, a girl from a humble family, we met by chance, and my affection for her deepened." For some reason, Mingqian thought of the four lines of poetry he had written for Tang Yang, and his heart was immediately filled with tenderness. He didn't speak, but just looked at her. Tang Yang's eyes reddened. Mingqian stood up, walked to her side, and embraced her, burying his lips in her neck to kiss her. Tang Yang twisted her body and said, "What time is it for you to still be thinking like this..." Hearing Tang Yang say this only made Mingqian more excited. He kissed her and pulled her to the door, then slammed the door shut. He opened his mouth and kissed the female secretary's lips, sucking on them. Although Tang Yang often had sex with Mingqian in the office and enjoyed this kind of unconventional stimulation, she felt that today was a bit inappropriate. She felt the man's strong arousal, and his penis was already hard and pressing against her vulva. She twisted and broke free from Mingqian's mouth, saying, "Not now, Minister Xia will be here soon. How about tonight?" Mingqian panted, "There's still time, my dear Yangyang, let your brother fuck your little mouth... I'll be invincible as soon as I fuck you." After saying that, he pressed down on Tang Yang's shoulders, and the female secretary knelt on the carpet. She looked at Mingqian with a resentful gaze, then unbuckled her belt and took out her engorged penis. She stuck out her tongue and licked the glans a few times before slowly taking a small part into her mouth and swallowing it. Mingqian saw that even when his female secretary was licking his penis, she was so delicate, as if she were eating a grand meal, and he couldn't help but thrust his hips and start moving in and out of Tang Yang's mouth. Tang Yang whimpered a few times, then let go of the penis, put her hands on Mingqian's legs, and tilted her head back slightly to let Mingqian fuck her little mouth.
As Mingqian thrust into Tang Yang's mouth, he thought about Xia Lin's upcoming arrival. He wondered what her reaction would be if she saw him having sex with his secretary like this. The more he thought about it, the more excited he became, subconsciously feeling as if he had deliberately chosen this time to have Tang Yang perform oral sex on him. His penis was almost fully inserted; Mingqian dared not go all the way in. Tang Yang had performed oral sex on him many times, but every time he tried to insert his entire penis, she would vomit. Once at home, Mingqian had aroused Tang Yang to a high level and asked her to perform oral sex on him. Tang Yang pleaded coquettishly, "Brother, Yangyang's little mouth is yours to fuck, please don't go too deep, it's very uncomfortable." Mingqian didn't listen at the time, and at the moment of climax, he thrust into her throat and ejaculated. But the girl's reaction afterward terrified him. He saw her lying on the ground, vomiting and coughing, and it took her a while to recover. From then on, during oral sex with Tang Yang, Mingqian would ejaculate inside her vagina at crucial moments. Mingqian was already feeling the urge to ejaculate, so he held her head and continued thrusting, urgently telling Tang Yang, "Hurry, show your butt... we're running out of time..." Tang Yang whimpered twice, it was unclear what she wanted to say, but she still struggled to pull down her pantyhose from under her skirt. Mingqian watched her pull the pantyhose down to her thighs, then cupped her face and thrust a few more times, pulled her up, pushed her onto the sofa, lifted her legs, and thrust into her vagina. After three or four thrusts, he couldn't help but ejaculate inside. These few thrusts and the powerful ejaculation brought the secretary to a small orgasm. Even after Mingqian ejaculated, he could still feel the contractions inside. Mingqian knew Tang Yang's fetish because every time he had oral sex with her, her panties would be soaked with her vaginal fluid.
After catching his breath, Mingqian withdrew his penis. Tang Yang got up, pulling up her pantyhose, and kicked Mingqian with her foot, saying coquettishly, "You're so annoying." Mingqian laughed and patted her buttocks, whispering, "I know you haven't had enough yet. Tonight, I'll let you have your fill." Tang Yang was about to hit Mingqian when Mingqian said, "Stop it, Xia Lin is coming.
" Tang Yang said, "Come on, come on, what am I afraid of?" "While saying this, she opened the door and ran out.
Xia Lin wafted in with the fragrance of orchids and osmanthus. She wore a blue collarless jacket over a beige tight-fitting cashmere sweater and worn-out jeans. Mingqian felt that Xia Lin's sexiness was concentrated in her lower body. Although her breasts looked full under the cashmere sweater, based on experience, he judged that they were definitely not her real size, but rather the effect of wearing a padded bra. Her gait lacked movement, unlike Tang Yang, whose slight sway of the body created a beautiful rhythm in certain parts, from her chest to her waist to her hips—a fleshy beauty. Xia Lin's hips appeared full in her jeans, more like the fleshy sensuality of a middle-aged woman than sexy. This contrast gave Mingqian a sense of pride. So when he looked at Xia Lin, a meaningful smile naturally appeared on his face."
Xia Lin, of course, was unaware of Ming Qian's lewd thoughts. She simply smiled at him with a hint of doubt, then sat down in the chair opposite him, placing one arm on the armrest and the other on Ming Qian's desk, her body slightly turned to the left. Ming Qian had never observed Xia Lin so closely before. Besides the intensified fragrance, he also noticed her exceptionally fair skin, especially her neck, which was almost perfect. The mole below her left ear was also perfectly placed, though according to physiognomy, a mole in that location was considered unlucky for a woman's husband.
"I've heard Assistant Shang is a busy person in the company, so I've never dared to bother her," Xia Lin began, her opening remarks full of diplomatic rhetoric. Ming Qian didn't want to beat around the bush with her; beating around the bush with women was dangerous, especially attractive ones—it was easy to get caught up in their trap. Mingqian cut to the chase, telling her that he had received his transfer order and appointment, but he wasn't planning to complete the handover procedures yet. He said he would speak with the chairman privately later because there were a few things he hadn't finished, and he wanted to ask the boss if he could also hand them over to her, since these things either involved company secrets or couldn't be handed over midway. Finally, Mingqian said, "Of course, the boss trusts Miss Xia a lot, and it's not that I'm being paranoid, it's just that our boss has a bad memory, and I think it's necessary to remind him." Mingqian's words clearly displeased Xia Lin, but she only raised her eyebrows slightly a few times before saying, "Assistant Shang, please don't misunderstand. I'm not here to urge you to complete the handover procedures. It hasn't been officially announced yet, has it? I'm here to discuss something else with you." Xia Lin paused, looking at Mingqian as if waiting for him to speak.
"Please go ahead." "It's about your secretary, Tang Yang." Xia Lin paused again, seemingly observing Mingqian's expression, or perhaps teasing him. Mingqian felt a little annoyed; the fragrance had already enveloped him.
Mingqian remained silent, instead lighting a cigarette, taking a deep drag, and slowly exhaling, letting the thick smoke fill the space between him and the woman.
"We're planning to transfer Tang Yang to General Manager Zhao Zhigang's office," Xia Lin said, her eyes fixed on Mingqian, seemingly trying to read his mind.
Silence. Mingqian dared not speak, afraid that if he did, the anger within him would erupt like a volcano. This anger wasn't directed at the woman in front of him, but at Han Zheng. Even today, he hadn't forgotten this old grudge—Han Zheng had kicked Tang Yang while simultaneously slapping him, all to disgust him. Mingqian could almost picture Zhao Zhigang's chubby, lecherous face. Mingqian took another deep drag of his cigarette, then exhaled the pent-up frustration. He then said slowly and deliberately, "I think we should ask Tang Yang for her opinion on this." "Secretary Tang has worked with you for many years; people have feelings. If she has any ideas, please try to persuade her," Xia Lin said sincerely. Mingqian suddenly felt like laughing out loud. He thought: Xia Lin probably doesn't understand the past between him and Han Zheng, otherwise she might not be willing to pimp for Zhao Zhigang. What is Zhao Zhigang anyway? He hasn't even secured his position yet and he's already competing with me for women. If Xia Lin, this slut, isn't an idiot, then she's just too eager to please Zhao Zhigang. Mingqian thought he'd tease Tang Yang about this someday. He loved seeing her anxious, aggrieved, and shy expression. But he had to be careful not to make her cry again, like last time when he teased her with Han Zheng. As a result, Tang Yang cried her eyes out and ignored him for a week. Thinking about this, a half-smile appeared on Mingqian's face.
"Assistant Shang, do you have any other opinions?" Mingqian came back to his senses, just as the cigarette in his hand burned his finger, scalding him badly. He reflexively flicked it away, and the cigarette butt flew from his hand, across the desk, and straight towards Xia Lin's pale face. Seeing the cigarette butt flying towards her face, Xia Lin braced herself on the table and bowed her head low in front of Ming Qian, looking both comical and ridiculous, as if she were performing some strange, long-lost form of greeting.
"Oops! I'm so sorry, so sorry, did you get burned?" Ming Qian asked, brushing the cigarette ash from Xia Lin's head with his hand. The ash broke into pieces and disappeared into Xia Lin's thick hair.
Xia Lin had already stood up, pushing Ming Qian's hand away. Whether from anger or shock, her face was flushed red, her eyes were watery, and she was breathing heavily and unevenly. Women's lung capacity is so small! Ming Qian thought to himself.
"Assistant Shang, when would you like Tang Yang to report to General Manager Zhao?" Xia Lin's tone was curt. She didn't sit down again but stood in front of Ming Qian.
Ming Qian thought, this woman must think he did that on purpose. Looking up at the woman's flushed face
and her still-heavy chest, Mingqian felt a pang of tenderness. He thought about how difficult it wasn't for a woman to make a living, especially a woman with such a strong exterior who might have a heart as fragile as glass. Thinking this, he felt it was understandable that she was acting as a pimp for Zhao Zhigang; after all, she still needed Zhao Zhigang for her livelihood. Who knew if Zhao might need her someday and she could refuse? It was just that she shouldn't have bothered with Tang Yang. At this moment, Mingqian felt a pang of guilt towards the woman.
"Miss Xia, please don't interfere in Tang Yang's affairs anymore. I'm doing this entirely for your own good. Whether Tang Yang goes to Mr. Zhao's place or not, and when, you should have Zhao Zhigang ask me himself." Seeing Xia Lin nod as if she understood, Mingqian added something that even he found strange: "If you were Tang Yang, I would do the same.
" This time, Xia Lin seemed to understand and said, "Then let's leave it at that." "Her voice was very soft, and then she walked out. Just as she was about to leave, Mingqian called her back." "Ms. Xia, I really didn't mean it." Xia Lin smiled at him and went out.
Mingqian called Han Zheng that afternoon, saying he had a few important things to discuss with him and invited him to dinner at Ya Shi at 8:30 pm. Mingqian had taken him to Ya Shi once before, and Han Zheng readily agreed, as if he had expected Mingqian's move and was waiting for his call.
That afternoon, Mingqian didn't leave his office. He lay on the sofa, smoking incessantly, filling the room with smoke. Tang Yang choked and ran out when he came in to pour him water.
The time for a showdown had come; the cold war was finally over. If he obeyed the company's transfer and took up a position at the property management company, Mingqian could still manage for a while, but in return, he would lose his employees. They would laugh at him, because going to the property management company was practically exile, and Han Zheng might have intended to humiliate him when he made this arrangement.
Besides, what about Tang Yang? He couldn't very well take her with him; property management managers didn't have secretaries, but they did have plenty of cleaning ladies. But if he refused the transfer, he would immediately turn against Han Zheng and be forced to leave. Neither of these were the paths Mingqian wanted to take. He spent the entire afternoon lying on the sofa, racking his brains over a third option: to play another game with Han Zheng.
Just across the door... It was Mingqian's beautiful and lovely secretary, but Mingqian barely heard her voice all afternoon. The office was unusually quiet, so quiet that time seemed to stand still. This silence came from the soundproofing of the walls. When the office was being renovated, Mingqian had specifically requested good soundproofing from the designer. At the time, Mingqian's idea was simple and somewhat pointless; he just wanted to ensure that his conversations with his secretary behind closed doors wouldn't be overheard. Later, he told Han Zheng about this, so several important conversations with Han Zheng took place in his office. Mingqian wanted to review the conversations with his boss at dinner tonight. Of course, simply reviewing wasn't enough; he needed to add something his boss liked to make it even better. With that thought, Mingqian got up from the sofa, went to his desk, and made a phone call.
When Yuan Ming, the security manager, stood in front of Mingqian, they were silent for a moment. Then Mingqian offered him a cigarette, and just as Yuan Ming lit it, he spoke: "Do you know where those people are now?" "Yes, Second Brother wants to see them?"

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