Chapter 80: Zhao Qiping

Wang Yan glanced at the three men on the ground, then walked to a tea table beside him and began brewing tea.

Seeing this, Tan Zongming gritted his teeth and struggled to rise: “You two leave first. Wait outside for me.”

Hearing this, the two bodyguards immediately forced themselves upright, saying nothing, grimacing as they rubbed the aching spots Wang Yan had struck, then slunk out the door.

While rinsing cups, Wang Yan noticed Tan Zongming glaring at him and said casually, “Calm down?” He gestured to the seat across: “Sit.”

Tan Zongming straightened his clothes, sat down, and fixed Wang Yan with a stare: “Your skills are impressive, but this isn’t the old days of life-or-death fights—no matter how skilled you are, you can’t protect yourself forever.”

Pouring tea into the pot, Wang Yan poured the water slowly and said coolly: “With those two as your guards, even ten more with guns couldn’t protect you. So tell me—can I protect myself?” As he spoke, he radiated the unshakable confidence of a man who had spent years as a boss, fighting through gunfire and bloodshed.

Seeing Tan Zongming fall silent, Wang Yan knew he was recalling files on him. He didn’t let him dwell, poured two cups of tea, and grinned: “Just jokes, Tan Zong—don’t take it seriously.” He placed the freshly poured cups before Tan: “Here, Tan Zong, drink. Top-grade Mingqian Longjing—rare tea. Taste it, help calm your temper.”

Tan Zongming shot Wang Yan a startled look, then took a sip of tea to suppress his irritation and said bluntly: “You shouldn’t have let Andy know the truth—it’s too damaging to her.”

Why pretend to be something you’re not? Look how much better it is now. If you’d just been honest from the start, why roll on the ground twice?

As for Tan Zongming’s usual haughty demeanor, Wang Yan had nothing to say. After all, the man truly was powerful—rich, well-connected, resourceful. He didn’t just look down on ordinary people; even those with hundreds of millions in assets but no connections were beneath his notice. He had every right to.

Just like with Wang Yan—he dared show up with bodyguards to intimidate him. But with Wei Wei, he came alone, because Wei Wei had connections and wasn’t weak; if Tan had brought men to confront him, it would’ve been a different matter entirely.

“Isn’t she doing fine now?” Wang Yan set down his cup. “What’s wrong with her knowing she inherited it? Your reaction is overblown.”

“I care about her. For years, she’s had only me as a friend. Of course, Andy is beautiful and intelligent—I won’t deny I have feelings for her. But I know I’m not worthy, and I’ve never pursued her.”

“I know. You’re unsure whether Andy even knows about Wei Guoqiang. But now she knows it’s genetic. Besides, she’s never met Wei Guoqiang since birth—how could she have feelings? It’s not a big issue.”

“You know all this?”

“You don’t strike me as someone who wastes words.”

Wang Yan stared at Tan Zongming for a moment, then said: “Today we met under fire, but now we know each other. With Andy connecting us, maybe we can explore cooperation sometime. Let me treat you to dinner another day. That’s all—I’ve got other business. I’m off.” He stood up. “Oh, by the way—your tea’s good.”

“If you like it, take some from me. Wait a moment.” Wang Yan turned, walked to a shelf behind his desk, and retrieved a box of tea: “I don’t have much, but this’ll last you a while.”

Tan Zongming accepted the tea, shook Wang Yan’s hand, and said: “Then I’ll accept gratefully. Until next time.”

“Let me see you off.”

After seeing Tan Zongming into the elevator, Wang Yan returned to his office under the watchful eyes of his staff, sat back at the tea table, and sipped slowly, thinking about Tan Zongming.

Tan Zongming hadn’t risen this far without reason. Years of comfort had made him soft, yet he swallowed Wang Yan’s insult without protest. Whether because of Andy or his vague threats, this old bastard was no different from Wei Zhijie in The Age of 30. Not just in wealth, but in character and demeanor—they were cut from the same cloth. The only difference? Tan Zongming was far handsomer than Wei Zhijie—and of course, far handsomer than Wang Yan himself.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Wang Yan said, “Come in.”

Qiu Yingying peeked in. Before she could speak, Wang Yan glared at her: “You—don’t listen to those idiots. Got nothing better to do? Too little work? Want me to give you more?”

Qiu Yingying stuck out her tongue and shook her head quickly: “I… haha, I just came to check on Brother Wang. You’re busy, you’re busy.” She turned and bolted out. Soon after, Wang Yan heard laughter and chatter from outside.

Shaking his head, Wang Yan dismissed the nonsense and returned to his tea. He’d wasted good tea on Tan Zongming.

Meanwhile, in a spacious conference room of another building in Shanghai, Qu Xiaoxiao sat across the table from GI’s representatives, discussing cooperation.

Qu Xiaoxiao radiated confidence, speaking like a polished executive, rattling off nonsense.

The GI representative listened politely, then said: “Excellent, Ms. Qu. We’ve reviewed all this in your proposal. Before you proceed with your formal presentation, may I ask one question?”

Qu Xiaoxiao spread her hands: “Of course.”

“Good. How much do you know about GI? Previously, we dealt with Mr. Qu Lianjie—he has far more industry experience than you. Aside from being Qu’s daughter, what other reason do you have for being here?”

“Hmm…” Qu Xiaoxiao’s eyes darted as she scrambled for an answer. After a pause, she began: “GI is a famous German air conditioning brand…”

Qu Xiaoxiao instantly reverted to her true self, revealing her incompetence. She babbled in broken English, stumbling over words. The foreigner’s gaze weighed on her. She clenched her sweaty hands nervously. Unable to bear it, she made an excuse and fled to the restroom to call Andy for help.

Andy was in a meeting at Shengxuan, routinely berating Liu Siming. She noticed her silenced phone lighting up, glanced at the caller ID, hung up, flipped it face-down, and ignored it. She’d delayed two days—work piled up. She was swamped. No time for nonsense. She turned back to berating Liu Siming.

Qu Xiaoxiao, hung up on, kept redialing. No answer. Giving up, she racked her brain for her circle of friends—who could help now? Finally, she accepted reality, washed her face, forced composure, and returned to the meeting.

After a morning of talks, the GI representative left without lunch.

Finally rid of the scowling foreigner, Qu Xiaoxiao exhaled, no longer forced to smile or babble. She noticed her father’s expression and hurried over: “Dad, don’t be angry. Honestly, the chance was slim anyway, right?”

“Hmph. Even a slim chance is still a chance. Now, thanks to you, it’s gone.” Qu Yongquan sighed in frustration: “Your proposal was decent. Why did you fall apart on-site? Ugh—you. Stay home, take care of your parents. Stop all this nonsense.” He waved his hand dismissively.

Qu Xiaoxiao’s eyes welled with tears: “Dad, I tried so hard. I didn’t want this. Just one more chance—please, just one?”

Too heartbroken to care, Qu Yongquan muttered: “Enough. Run your little company yourself. That’s it.” He swept out.

Qu Xiaoxiao drove home furious, seeking warmth and comfort from her mother.

…………

After work, Wang Yan had nothing to do, so he bought some food and headed straight to the bar—dinner and entertainment in one.

Parked his car, stepped into the bar, and saw a man at the counter—casually dressed, handsome.

He walked over, greeted the bartender, asked Li Xiao for some beer, found a corner with a good view of the stage, and sat down to drink alone.

Zhao Qiping watched Wang Yan devouring skewers and asked: “Who’s that guy? So… distinctive?”

Li Xiao shrugged and smiled: “My boss. Probably just got off work and has nowhere else to go.”

“Oh?” Zhao Qiping thought a moment. “Bring me more drinks. I’ll go introduce myself to your boss.”

Seeing Zhao Qiping sit down uninvited, Wang Yan handed him a few lamb skewers: “Try these. Good. Took a long time to get them.”

Zhao Qiping loved this casual, unpretentious vibe—it eased his pain a little. “Then I won’t be polite.” He devoured the skewers. He’d been drinking all day—he was hungry.

Honestly, Wang Yan hadn’t expected to meet Zhao Qiping at a bar. He raised his cup: “You look unfamiliar. First time here?”

Zhao Qiping, chewing skewers, said: “First time.”

“Drinking alone? Feeling poetic? Or did something happen?”

Zhao Qiping took a big gulp of wine: “I’m a doctor. Surgeon.”

Wang Yan nodded in understanding, raised his cup: “To you. My treat. Drink moderately. Life’s uncertain—you know that.”

“Thanks.” Zhao Qiping clinked cups and drained his drink.

Wang Yan and Zhao Qiping chatted freely, laughing, easing Zhao’s guilt and sorrow. The mood turned pleasant.

By nine, Wang Yan helped the wobbly Zhao Qiping into a car, waved to Li Xiao, and called a driver back to Happy Song.

Andy, working late, returned to Happy Song with the diligent Qiu Yingying.

Qiu Yingying chatted with Guan Juer and Fan Shengmei, gossiped about Guan Juer’s Lin senior and Fan Shengmei’s Wang classmate, then packed up and went to sleep. She didn’t blab about today’s office drama—she had some sense now.

Andy had just finished washing up when the doorbell rang. She checked the monitor—it was Qu Xiaoxiao. She sighed and opened the door.

Qu Xiaoxiao burst in: “Andy, what were you doing this morning? I called you so many times—why didn’t you answer?”

Andy turned, frowned: “Qu, if I remember right, I sent you a WeChat message at noon saying I was busy.”

Noticing Andy’s mood, Qu Xiaoxiao apologized quickly: “Sorry, Andy, it’s my fault.” She looked ready to cry, pitiful: “But this morning was life-or-death! And you—my friend—weren’t there when I needed you. Andy, please help me again? Just once?”

Andy found Qu Xiaoxiao’s performance repulsive. But out of politeness, she didn’t lash out. She frowned: “What do you want?”

Qu Xiaoxiao glanced nervously at Andy, recounted the morning’s events, then asked: “Andy, is there any way to fix this?”

Andy stared coldly, shook her head silently.

“What?” Qu Xiaoxiao’s mouth dropped open. She slumped into a chair, wailing: “What do I do now, Andy? I’m going to be cast out by my family—my mom too! What am I supposed to do, Andy?” She buried her face on the table and sobbed.

Andy’s head throbbed. She snapped: “Enough. Can you stop crying?”

Seeing Qu Xiaoxiao’s tear-filled, pitiful gaze, Andy sighed helplessly: “GI is ruined. Based on how foreign companies operate, you have zero chance. In China, I don’t know anyone except Old Tan. And Shengxuan doesn’t overlap with your family’s business. Old Tan knows plenty—but” She glanced at Qu Xiaoxiao’s hopeful face. “Do you really think I’d introduce you to Old Tan?”

“Then what do I do, Andy?”

“You have to handle this yourself. I can’t help. It’s late. I’m going to rest, Qu.”

“Then… okay.” Qu Xiaoxiao stood, reluctant, and pleaded at the door: “If I find a big client myself, you’ll help me, right, Andy?”

“Qu, I’m exhausted.”

“Then rest well. Bye. Love you.”

Andy shut the door, exhaled deeply, drank water to calm herself. For some reason, she suddenly wanted to talk to Wang Yan. But she checked the time and abandoned the thought.

Lying in bed, lost in thought, she drifted off…

Two days passed. It was Saturday. During this time, Qiu Yingying’s father visited the company. Wang Yan accompanied him, took them to lunch—calming the father’s worries, sparing him restless nights at home.

Guan Juer and Qiu Yingying worked late. Fan Shengmei played pretend with Wang Baichuan. Andy went on a date with Wei Wei.

What about Qu Xiaoxiao? She’d been out drinking and drowning her frustration for three days straight. But she didn’t understand why Yao Bin had been acting strange—calls cut short, friends didn’t know what he was up to. She didn’t care much.

In truth, Qu Xiaoxiao didn’t care much about GI’s failure. It was just her first attempt at something serious—and it failed. It’d pass. As for losing face with her father? Even less concern. She knew his temper perfectly. A few weeks of crying and whining would fix it. Besides, her mother would never let her suffer. If business failed, she’d just find another—her family wasn’t short on money.

Meanwhile, Wang Yan, bored at home writing calligraphy, received a message from Zhao Qiping: he’d found a great restaurant and invited him to lunch.

Wang Yan had nothing else to do. He gladly accepted.

Zhao Qiping was fine in every way—except once he found someone he clicked with, he wouldn’t stop bothering them. Who does this? Constantly calling just to chat? If Wang Yan didn’t know Zhao Qiping’s true nature, he’d have kicked him out miles ago.

Wang Yan drove to a slightly remote area, searched for parking, then followed the address to a noodle shop. Outside, it looked shabby. Inside, it was a different world. Many diners crowded the space—strangers seated head-to-head, slurping noodles. The place was cramped but spotlessly clean, clearly cared for.

Zhao Qiping, squeezed in the middle, spotted Wang Yan and waved with a smile: “Boss Wang, over here!” He apologized to those around him: “Sorry, my friend’s here. Mind if I move over?”

Wang Yan sat beside Zhao Qiping, smiled, and thanked everyone at the table.

“I already ordered the specialties. Perfect timing—they’ll be ready any minute.”

Wang Yan nodded: “How’d you find this place?”

“A new colleague recommended it. Said it was good.” Just then, the owner brought two bowls of noodles and a plate of cold vegetables. Zhao Qiping gestured: “Try it.”

Wang Yan slurped a mouthful, tasted it, and said: “Good. Top-tier.”

Zhao Qiping grinned: “Of course. I came here alone to try it first. Today’s invite? Pure sincerity.”

“You’ve got something you want from me, don’t you? No free lunch.”

“That’s not fair. I like you, Boss Wang. Sharing good food isn’t scheming.”

Wang Yan lifted his bowl, drank broth: “One time only. If you don’t say it now, you won’t get another chance.”

Zhao Qiping chuckled: “Can’t fool you, Boss Wang. Here’s the thing…” He described a patient’s condition. “I’ve only met you—a person with real power. The others I knew are all gone. I need them to recover. So I came to beg.”

“Can you cure him?”

Zhao Qiping nodded firmly: “Absolutely.”

“Fine. I’ll help.”

The diners around them had initially felt pity for Zhao Qiping’s story—but when he didn’t ask how much money was needed, suspicion grew. It sounded like a scam—or at least, a wild exaggeration. They rolled their eyes, ignored the two fools lost in their own world.

The novel app, stable for many years, rivals the old version; even fans of chasing bugs use this source-switching app: huanyuanapp.

The two of them naturally didn’t care what they thought; they talked while finishing their noodles.

Outside the noodle shop, Wang Yan said: “Give me your account number, I’ll transfer it to you later.”

“No, absolutely not—I can’t receive money, then what’s the point of me doing this?”

“Then go ask the patients for their account numbers, tell me how much each needs, and I’ll transfer directly to their accounts. No need to show up—I can’t stand the crying and whimpering.”

Zhao Qiping shook his head and smiled: “Alright, that’s settled. I’ll head back to the hospital and let you know.”

As he turned to leave, Wang Yan stopped him: “Here’s the deal—one patient a month, only if I can cure them. You get what I mean?”

Zhao Qiping understood perfectly and nodded: “Aren’t you thinking it over? These are all serious illnesses—they’re not cheap.”

“No problem—can Wang Boss be called for free?”

Zhao Qiping laughed heartily: “Fine, I’ll thank them on your behalf.” He moved to bow deeply to Wang Yan.

Wang Yan held him back, stopping the bow: “Enough, I appreciate the gesture—it’s mainly your effort. That’s settled, go on, get to work.”