Chapter 24: That Is Not the Nature of Our Relationship

The workday finally dragged to an end.

Lu Qiuyi, her head spinning, sluggishly packed her belongings. As she calculated whether to order a bowl of porridge or simply collapse into sleep, the internal office line rang.

It was He Jingyue again.

Lu Qiuyi sighed inwardly, resigned to her fate as she picked up the receiver: "Mr. He..."

The subtext: Please, have mercy; this patient needs some rest.

There was a brief silence on the other end before He Jingyue's low, resonant voice came through: "Pack your things. Five minutes, in the underground garage."

"Huh?" Lu Qiuyi was momentarily dazed. "Mr. He, is there another business engagement?"

She felt that in her current state, she wouldn't be attending a business meeting so much as performing a fainting act for the clients.

"No," He Jingyue replied, his answer concise. "Taking you somewhere."

"Oh, right. Understood." Not daring to ask more, Lu Qiuyi hung up, her heart pounding with uncertainty.

If it wasn't a business engagement, why was he taking her out?

Could it be that he felt her work efficiency was too low today and was personally escorting her to some remote project site to work overtime as a form of punishment?

Capitalists couldn't be that twisted, could they?

She dawdled as she packed, then took the elevator down to the underground garage, where the familiar black Rolls-Royce Phantom was already waiting quietly.

The driver saw her and respectfully opened the door.

Lu Qiuyi bent down and climbed inside, only to find He Jingyue already in the backseat, reviewing something on his tablet.

She cautiously shrank into the other side, trying her best to minimize her presence, terrified that her own breathing might disturb him.

"Mr. He, where are we going?"

He Jingyue didn't look up from his tablet, merely replying with three indifferent words: "Shopping."

"Shopping?" Lu Qiuyi was even more bewildered.

The big boss finishes work and doesn't rest, but instead personally takes his sickly assistant shopping?

Was the company short on some emergency supplies that required her, the assistant, to pick them out?

That didn't seem right either; why would such a small matter require him to step in personally?

As she was lost in these wild thoughts, the car pulled up slowly in front of the city's premier luxury shopping mall.

He Jingyue strode ahead with long, swift steps. Lu Qiuyi, her feet feeling unsteady, struggled to keep up and couldn't help but cough twice.

He Jingyue, walking in front, seemed to pause imperceptibly before slowing his pace just a little.

He led the way directly into a luxury boutique with a massive storefront and incredibly lavish decor.

The giant logo shimmered in the lights, radiating the scent of money.

The well-trained sales associate, Zhang Juan, recognized He Jingyue instantly and immediately flashed her most enthusiastic and professional smile. "Good evening, Mr. He. Welcome."

When her gaze landed on Lu Qiuyi following behind him, the smile faltered for a second before she quickly regained her composure. "Good evening, madam."

He Jingyue spoke to the associate in a calm, flat tone: "Show her the latest season of ladies' handbags and accessories."

"Of course, Mr. He. If you and the lady would please take a seat in the VIP room, I will arrange it immediately." The associate caught on, her attitude becoming even more respectful as she ushered them inside.

Lu Qiuyi followed, step by step, feeling even more dizzy.

Ladies' handbags? Accessories?

She suddenly lifted her head, and in a moment of surprised flattery, she blurted out: "Mr. He, are you buying a bag for me?!"

Children who work while sick get treats.

Lu Qiuyi pointed casually at several eye-catching bags on the counter and shelves. "This one, this one, that one over there, and... yes, this entire row. Wrap them all up for me."

It wasn't her money anyway; it was the capitalist compensating her for working while ill. If she didn't take them, it would be a waste.

The smile on Zhang Juan's face became incredibly radiant; her instincts were indeed correct.

"Very well, madam. Please wait a moment, and I will have them wrapped for you right away."

While directing the other staff to pack the items carefully, she personally guided the two to the VIP lounge and served them exquisite tea and snacks.

Zhang Juan noticed that as the lady went on a shopping spree, the man with the powerful aura simply sat on the sofa, picking up a financial magazine to read, not once lifting his eyelids from start to finish, as if he couldn't care less about how much his companion was spending.

If the man were older, she might have guessed they were in a mistress-patron relationship.

But they were of similar age; the man was stunningly handsome, the woman drop-dead gorgeous, and they looked quite a match.

Drawing on her experience, Zhang Juan was more inclined to believe they were a wealthy married couple or lovers.

So, during the wait for the wrapping, Zhang Juan brought over a stack of delicate macarons for Lu Qiuyi and whispered affectionately, "My dear, you and your gentleman share such a lovely bond; it's truly enviable."

She was well-versed in this; these wealthy wives and young ladies loved nothing more than hearing others praise the affection between them and their partners.

Lu Qiuyi, who was just about to take a sip of water to soothe her throat, froze: ?

What on earth?

Seeing her silent, Zhang Juan assumed she had hit the mark and continued the flattery: "He dotes on you so much; you are truly very fortunate."

Lu Qiuyi: ??

To prevent this associate from spouting any more outrageous nonsense, Lu Qiuyi stopped her in time: "He is not my husband."

Zhang Juan’s smile stiffened, and she immediately apologized: "Ah, I'm so sorry."

She quickly adjusted her internal narrative: Must be a girlfriend, then?

"It's not that kind of relationship you're thinking of, either," Lu Qiuyi added.

At that moment, the bags she had chosen were all packed and carried over by several staff members.

Lu Qiuyi stood up and went over to He Jingyue, holding out her fair palm with a grin. "Mr. He, time to pay."

Spend the boss's money and leave the boss with nothing to say!

He Jingyue closed his magazine, took out his wallet from his inner suit pocket, and pulled out a black card, handing it to her with a fluid, natural motion.

Lu Qiuyi took the card and turned to hand it to Zhang Juan. "Charge it directly; there's no PIN."

Zhang Juan received the black card—a symbol of infinite credit and top-tier status—with both hands, her heart racing a little faster. Her attitude turned even more deferential: "Very well, please wait a moment."

After sending off the powerful yet mysterious duo, Zhang Juan let out a long breath.

She had nearly misjudged the situation today; it was fortunate that the beautiful lady hadn't taken offense.

As for the man, he hadn't given any reaction to her misunderstanding from start to finish—it was unclear if he hadn't heard or simply didn't care.

Regardless, today's sales target had been exceeded, Zhang Juan thought with satisfaction.

Just as she turned around, the bell at the shop door rang again.

A woman dressed in a Chanel suit, carrying a crocodile-skin handbag, walked in.

Zhang Juan immediately flashed her professional smile and went to greet her: "Good evening, madam. Is there anything I can help you with?"

The woman merely offered a perfunctory smile, her sharp eyes scanning the shop, and then she gestured with her chin toward the direction where Lu Qiuyi and He Jingyue had just left: "What is the relationship between those two who just walked out?"

Zhang Juan’s smile remained, but she grew wary inside and politely refused: "I'm sorry, madam, but we cannot disclose any private information about our customers."

The woman impatiently furrowed her meticulously drawn eyebrows and looked Zhang Juan up and down: "What are you afraid of? Do you think I would treat you unfairly? Do you know who I am? I am a regular at this store."

"I am truly sorry, madam," Zhang Juan maintained a polite smile, her tone firm. "Protecting customer privacy is our professional code of conduct, and I hope you can understand."

Seeing that she couldn't get anything out of her, the woman curled her lip in disdain, muttered "Forget it, then," and clicked away on her high heels.