Chapter 9

"Xia He didn't give me any benefit." Fang Qingye looked up at Zhao Wenjun:

"It's because you went too far. You can fight Xia He all you want, but you can't make innocent people pay the price for you!"

"Innocent people? You mean Zhang Qunying? I know—if this isn't resolved quickly, due to public pressure, the bank will make her the scapegoat, at minimum demote her, maybe even fire her. But it's only temporary!"

"You know perfectly well our bank did nothing wrong! If I become branch manager, once the investigation is clear, I'll bring Zhang Qunying back to work... probably three months, at most half a year—this was all within my calculations. But you ruined it!"

After speaking, Zhao Wenjun's gaze turned cold.

Fang Qingye merely smiled faintly and said: "Director Zhao, your plans are well-laid, but have you considered how much suffering and humiliation Zhang Qunying will endure over these three or six months?! How will it affect her life and family? How will her relatives and friends see her?!"

"You say you've been treated unfairly—then tell me, is that fair to Zhang Qunying?! Why should she be the sacrifice in your power struggle?! Just because she's a nobody?!"

Fang Qingye wasn't exaggerating.

He remembered Zhang Qunying's husband divorced her over this incident, and her once-stable family fell apart.

Zhao Wenjun froze, silent. Both fell into stillness.

After a long while, Zhao Wenjun finished his drink, stood up, and said to Fang Qingye: "I'm full. I'm leaving. Don't forget to settle the bill."

Then he turned and walked toward the door.

"Director Zhao." Fang Qingye suddenly called out to him.

"You told me all this today—aren't you afraid I'll report you to Xia He or Director Liu that you're the one stirring up trouble?!"

"You won't." Zhao Wenjun smiled. "Besides, I'm resigning tomorrow. Does it even matter if you report me?"

He pushed open the door and left.

Through the window, Fang Qingye noticed for the first time that it had started raining outside.

The rain grew heavier, soon turning the world into a blur of water.

He didn't leave. He simply sat quietly, drinking the last of his wine.

The next morning, news spread that Zhao Wenjun had resigned. He left his resignation letter on Xia He's desk, packed his belongings, and walked out without looking back—rumor had it he went to Shanghai.

Soon after, Director Zhang officially retired. Personnel from the city branch announced Xia He as the new branch manager of Nanxin Branch, and promoted former Credit Department head Su Ming to deputy manager. The other deputy position remained open for further evaluation.

Xia He transferred Zhang Qunying from Qianjin Savings Office to the branch's internal staff, appointing her as Credit Department head. Liu Na took over as head of Qianjin Savings Office.

The branch underwent a series of personnel changes, but none of it concerned Fang Qingye—he continued his internship in the Credit Department as before.

That noon, after lunch, Fang Qingye was leaving the cafeteria heading back to his office when his phone suddenly rang. He pulled it out—it was Xia He calling.

Her call?

Fang Qingye had saved his superiors' numbers, but they'd never contacted him—not even after the Longteng deposit theft case ended. Xia He hadn't summoned him alone, nor had they ever interacted directly on work matters—she never assigned tasks directly to someone at Fang Qingye's level.

Why call now?

After thinking for a moment, Fang Qingye answered.

"Director Xia, hello."

"Xiao Fang, are you free tonight? I'd like to treat you to dinner." Xia He's voice came clear and pleasant through the receiver.

Treat him to dinner?

Fang Qingye immediately understood.

Still, he asked: "Director Xia, why are you treating me?"

Xia He was direct: "To thank you."

"No need to be so formal, Director Xia. I just did my duty." Fang Qingye unconsciously glanced up toward the third-floor manager's office.

Sure enough, through the window, he saw a figure watching him.

It was Xia He.

Xia He's voice came again through the phone: "How can you say that? Zhao Wenjun invited you and you accepted without hesitation—now when I invite you, you refuse? Are you refusing your senior's face?!"

Fang Qingye laughed. "Alright then. Where?"

"It's inconvenient outside. Come to my place. I'll cook a few dishes—I'll send you the address."

"Got it."

After hanging up, Fang Qingye glanced again at the third floor—the figure was gone.

After work that afternoon, Fang Qingye packed up, went downstairs, and mounted his scooter. He didn't head straight to Xia He's place—he went home first.

At home, he went to his bedroom, took off his uniform, changed into a T-shirt and casual pants, then went to the living room to leave a note for his mother saying he wouldn't be home for dinner.

But just then, the door opened and his mother, Zhang Meili, walked in.

"Mom, I'm going out to dinner with a friend tonight—don't cook for me." Fang Qingye said quickly.

"Again with Song Dahai?" Zhang Meili said, hanging her bag on the coat rack and changing her shoes.

"No—it's Director Xia treating me." Fang Qingye told the truth.

"Director Xia? The young, pretty female manager from your bank? She's treating you? How many people?" Zhang Meili's interest sparked instantly.

"Just me."

"Why? I heard Director Xia is married, right?" Zhang Meili looked up at him.

"Does being married have anything to do with inviting someone to dinner?" Fang Qingye was half-annoyed, half-amused, and explained:

"She thinks I helped her out." He briefly told his mother about his theory and role in the Longteng deposit theft case.

Zhang Meili laughed. "Oh my... didn't know you had this talent. Were you just wasting time all four years of college?"

Fang Qingye was speechless.

Mom, do you really think so poorly of me?

But honestly, those four college years had been wasted—he'd mostly spent them gaming in internet cafes.

Just as Fang Qingye was about to reply, his mother waved him off: "Go, go. Good—I don't have to cook dinner."

Fine. I've been rejected again.

Fang Qingye said nothing more, went downstairs, mounted his scooter again, and rode north out of the staff compound.

Xia He lived in Beifang Mingzhu Community, a newly built upscale neighborhood in the northern part of the county, featuring high-rises and two rows of villas.

Following the address sent to his phone, Fang Qingye arrived at Building B, took the elevator to the twelfth floor.

Xia He's home was in the provincial capital—this place was just temporary lodging, and the apartment was bought by the bank for leaders whose families weren't in Nanxin.

Fang Qingye rang the bell. Within two minutes, the door opened.

Xia He wore a T-shirt and jeans; her previously pinned-up bun was now loose, falling past her shoulders—casual yet alluring.

A kitchen apron tied around her waist added a touch of domestic warmth.