Since Lu Yong had personally asked, Jiang Ji could hardly refuse. Once everything had been settled, Secretary Lu officially started work on May 12.
Lu Xingyan now had two kinds of probation going at once: on one side, he was still on probation as Jiang Ji’s “little toy”; on the other, he was working as an intern until he graduated next month and could formally join the company. He had fought hard for the former. As for whether the latter became permanent, he did not care at all. Being a secretary was only a pretext anyway.
On the morning of May 12, Lu Xingyan finally had a perfectly legitimate reason to drive Jiang Ji to work. He drove Jiang Ji’s car and acted as chauffeur. They had barely left the residential complex when his performance began. “President Jiang, how am I driving? Is the speed okay? Smooth enough?”
Jiang Ji responded mercilessly, “Very good. It would be even better if you were mute.”
Lu Xingyan said, “…”
It was Monday. Jiang Ji had been away on business the previous week and had not returned home until Friday. Then he had gone out both Saturday and Sunday, and Lu Xingyan had no idea whether he was entertaining clients or fooling around somewhere. He wanted to ask, but he was afraid of losing points, so he forcibly endured it.
In Lu Xingyan’s opinion, Jiang Ji had serious personality problems.
Borrowing the words of some self-proclaimed marriage expert on his Moments feed, Jiang Ji was a man profoundly unsuited for marriage. Anyone—male or female—who took a liking to him clearly had poor judgment.
This was not deliberate slander.
First, Jiang Ji was a mama’s boy. He obeyed Jiang Wanyi in almost everything, constantly bought her gifts and flowers, and sent her red packets on every holiday and special occasion. Yet there was a high chance he would never spoil a lover to that extent.
Second, Jiang Ji refused to let other people interfere with him. Nobody could interfere in any of his major decisions. If he did not come home, other people were not even allowed to ask where he had been. Jiang Wanyi indulged him and always said, “I trust my son.” But what about after marriage? Who could possibly trust a partner like that? One moment of inattention and he might cheat.
Third, Jiang Ji had a face that attracted trouble everywhere he went. A man did not need to be spectacularly handsome. Slightly handsome was enough; devastatingly handsome was a menace. Probability of cheating: plus ninety-nine percent.
And finally, Jiang Ji was simply too outstanding. Being with him would give his partner an inferiority complex.
Think about it: a handsome, talented, high-achieving, blue-chip prospect like Jiang Ji—what kind of person could possibly be considered good enough for him without becoming the target of public ridicule? If someone actually married Jiang Ji, there was a high chance people would sneer, “They deserve him?” “I’m better than that.” “Jiang Ji’s only flaw is terrible taste.”
Lu Xingyan sighed and shed two imaginary tears of sympathy for Jiang Ji’s future partner. Perhaps his compassion was simply too powerful. He genuinely started feeling miserable on that future person’s behalf.
After circling through several rounds of wild imagination, his thoughts returned to the same starting point.
Where exactly had Jiang Ji gone all weekend?
Lu Xingyan spent the entire drive making sour little guesses before finally comforting himself. Once he became Jiang Ji’s secretary and watched him every day, he would know everything.
Lu Xingyan had imagined it beautifully.
Unfortunately, reality was nothing like that.
The moment they arrived at the company, Jiang Ji had someone take Lu Xingyan to complete his onboarding paperwork, then assigned him the desk beside Jeanne. Afterward, Jiang Ji shut himself inside his office and ignored him.
If not for Lu Yong’s request, Jiang Ji would never have agreed to bring Lu Xingyan into the company at all. Work was work. Play was play. Jiang Ji separated his personal and professional lives clearly and did not want them mixed too thoroughly.
If Lu Xingyan could turn over a new leaf and stop causing trouble, Jiang Ji, as his older brother, would indeed be willing to teach him seriously. Unfortunately, the chances of that happening were about the same as the sun rising in the west.
Over the past week, Jiang Ji had not fooled around with Lu Xingyan, and quite a lot of the “idiot virus” he had caught from him had finally cleared out. His mind felt much sharper.
And because of that clarity, Jiang Ji could not help wondering: Since when had Lu Xingyan become this good at enduring things?
Before, one poke was enough to make him explode. One harsh word and he would immediately lose his temper. Now, for the sake of this ridiculous plan, he could endure again and again without any apparent bottom line.
Lu Xingyan did not particularly resemble a straight man, admittedly. But even if he were gay—or bisexual—surely being toyed with over and over would eventually become unbearable.
Jiang Ji considered himself quite cruel to Lu Xingyan. Worse each time. And what was Lu Xingyan’s response? Increasing cooperation.
He could spend an entire night outside a hotel room and still bring breakfast the next morning with a smiling face. He could be placed on probation and still rush forward to become Jiang Ji’s secretary, terrified he might somehow miss an opportunity to be tormented.
Was being tormented that enjoyable? At what point would he finally crack?
Then Jiang Ji suddenly understood.
That was exactly the problem.
Lu Xingyan no longer cracked.
If Jiang Ji deliberately played with someone and that person enjoyed every second of it, naturally the fun disappeared. He needed to change methods—or increase the intensity. He had to break directly through Lu Xingyan’s bottom line.
Which raised another question.
Where exactly was that bottom line?
For perhaps the first time, Jiang Ji could no longer read Lu Xingyan clearly. It was almost as if this younger brother who had always been as transparent as blank paper suddenly possessed some unfathomable inner world.
It was baffling.
But this was work time. Jiang Ji temporarily put his personal thoughts aside and called the project manager in for a meeting.
He remained busy all morning.
Normally, Jeanne would ask what he wanted for lunch, but today a certain newly appointed employee was eager to perform. Without asking a single question, Lu Xingyan prepared lunch himself and brought it into Jiang Ji’s office the moment the project manager left.
Jiang Ji looked up from his computer and saw Lu Xingyan carrying ten different boxes of food, large and small. Jeanne followed behind him holding coffee, looking deeply helpless and using her eyes to make it clear that this had been entirely Secretary Lu’s idea and had nothing to do with her.
Jiang Ji waved a hand.
Jeanne looked as though she had been granted amnesty. She put down the coffee, hurried out, and even closed the door tightly behind her.
Lu Xingyan had already thrown himself completely into character. Respectful and considerate, he said, “President Jiang, these are all things you like. From now on, I’ll take care of your lunches. No reimbursement necessary.”
Generous of him.
Jiang Ji pointed at the empty chair opposite his desk. “Sit down and eat with me. Don’t buy this much next time. The two of us can’t finish it.”
Unexpectedly, Lu Xingyan opened each container one by one and pointed them out. “We can finish it. Two staple dishes, this is soup, this is seafood, this is a cold dish, this is dessert, and this is cut fruit. There are really only three proper dishes.”
Jiang Ji said, “…”
“Do you have any tricks besides delivering food, Lu Xingyan?”
Jiang Ji opened a pair of disposable chopsticks. He had not felt particularly hungry, but the lavish spread in front of him suddenly awakened his appetite.
This obviously was not some random delivery order. Lu Xingyan actually knew his preferences extremely well.
Jiang Ji liked his seafood raw. He disliked scallions in soup, garlic in cold dishes, and starch-thickened sauces on meat dishes. He liked matcha desserts. Stir-fried vegetables should be cooked lightly with little oil.
Jiang Ji could eat things that did not suit his preferences too, of course, but food tailored to his tastes was naturally better.
“You asked my mother?” Jiang Ji did not believe Lu Xingyan knew all of this on his own.
“No.” Lu Xingyan denied it. “I just know you well. What can I do? I like you.”
Jiang Ji ignored the nonsense. “Oh, I remember now. Four years ago, when our family changed housekeepers, you gave the new one a list of dietary restrictions.”
Lu Xingyan’s nerves immediately tightened.
“You told her the rest didn’t matter, but she absolutely had to remember that all seafood must be thoroughly cooked, even salmon; soup needed extra scallions; and everything should be prepared exactly opposite to my preferences—”
Before Jiang Ji could finish, Lu Xingyan hurriedly interrupted him. “That was four years ago! Why do you remember every stupid thing? Can’t you remember something good I’ve done?”
“Have you ever done anything good?”
Lu Xingyan protested, “How have I not? I’ve given you plenty of gifts!”
“Haven’t I given you gifts too?” Jiang Ji thought for a moment. “If your father hadn’t forced you, would you ever have bought me anything?”
“…”
Lu Xingyan stopped arguing and lowered his head to eat. He looked as though Jiang Ji had falsely accused him of something, sulking while he chewed.
But only a few minutes later, he remembered that he was a secretary again and looked up. “President Jiang, are you eating dinner at home tonight? If you have to work overtime, do you need me to stay with you?”
“No,” Jiang Ji said. “I have other plans.”
“What plans?” Lu Xingyan immediately became alert. “There aren’t any business dinners on today’s schedule. Who are you meeting?”
“Is that something you should be asking? You really never learn.” Jiang Ji showed no mercy. “Another point off. Minus three now.”
Lu Xingyan said, “…”
Gaining points was unbelievably difficult. Losing them was absurdly easy.
Lu Xingyan could not even enjoy his lunch anymore. He cleaned up President Jiang’s food containers and utensils, then left with his head hanging.
This was not a promising start.
Within only a few days, Lu Xingyan discovered that being a secretary was not enjoyable at all. Aside from being able to ask Jeanne to show him President Jiang’s schedule, he could barely interfere in anything.
And Jiang Ji really was busy.
Their company developed software and provided technical solutions for clients. They accepted customized-product work and also developed their own brands. The company was not particularly large, but it had many projects running at once, and Jiang Ji oversaw all of them.
Jeanne told Lu Xingyan that the company’s main business over the past two years had been outsourcing, with collaborations involving several major tech companies. Now Jiang Ji wanted to shift the company’s focus toward its own products and create something big.
Never ashamed to ask questions, Lu Xingyan said, “What does ‘big’ mean?”
“An app with huge potential.”
Jeanne had become familiar with Lu Xingyan in less than two days. Once she discovered that this young master thought simply and had no airs, she became extremely comfortable boasting around him.
“Something like QQ and WeChat from that certain company, Taobao and Alipay from that other one, or that other company’s Dou—”
Lu Xingyan sprayed out his tea.
He had also discovered that this female assistant thought simply and was a shameless fangirl. Whenever Jiang Ji came up in private conversation, Jeanne could remain normal for perhaps five sentences. After that, she inevitably started praising him.
The internet age was full of opportunities, she would say. Once someone caught the right trend, they could soar overnight. People had not believed that certain post-eighties entrepreneurs would become the youngest billionaires either. Maybe President Jiang would be next.
Besides, President Jiang was so handsome he could single-handedly raise the average attractiveness of the rich list.
Seeing Lu Xingyan stare blankly, Jeanne asked, “President Jiang is your brother. Why don’t you believe in him? If you don’t believe me, let’s look again in ten years.”
“…”
She had no idea that Lu Xingyan did believe it.
That was exactly the problem.
If Jiang Ji really became that successful in the future, would he not attract even more people?
Exactly.
A man like that was completely unsuitable for marriage. Being his partner would be far too stressful.
Lu Xingyan was not Jiang Ji’s partner right now, and yet he already felt stressed.
He began reflecting. Am I too childish? Do I spend all day fooling around?
He was about to graduate from university. He really should start planning his future properly.
But everyone had different ambitions. He did not want to imitate Jiang Ji and start a company. He did not enjoy business and had even less interest in helping his father manage the family company.
The confusion of graduation season spared no one.
Not even rich second-generation heirs.
Lu Xingyan drifted through the week until Friday, feeling both inferior and irritated.
Inferior because he could not compare with Jiang Ji.
Irritated because—
Why was he always being influenced by Jiang Ji?
He had not streamed games for a long time because he had been too busy chasing Jiang Ji lately.
He was an unsigned streamer. The platform was afraid he might leave and had offered him an extremely generous contract.
But Lu Xingyan had always felt that being an online streamer was not respectable.
A respectable person should be like Jiang Ji—
Jiang Ji, Jiang Ji, Jiang Ji. Jiang Ji again.
What kind of drug had Jiang Ji fed him?
His life was probably hopeless.
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