Unmatched Chapter 16
byRingzhou Group relocated several years ago. The new headquarters building was constructed on the west bank of the Fengjing Economic Lake District, not far from the Chaoyang headquarters. Zhao Shuyi had previously looked out at it from a distance but had never visited in person.
It was a little past eight in the morning. Having a poor appetite, he only ate a slice of toast and drank a few sips of coffee before getting into Xie Qi’s car to head for the “debut.”
The debut was fake; the tour was real. Zhao Shuyi was very interested in Ringzhou and even more interested in Xie Qi’s work.
Ringzhou Group’s main businesses are real estate, investment, hotels, and entertainment, but they also dabble in e-commerce. They basically don’t miss any industry trend or opportunity to make money, and they have indeed profited from all of them.
However, Chaoyang Group generally does not involve itself in these sectors. To outsiders, this means they have missed many opportunities for “transformation.”
Thinking about this only worsened Zhao Shuyi’s already poor mood that morning.
He suddenly recalled Zhao Fengli’s past reprimands: “Why do we run a company? It’s not just to make money. Do you have no other pursuits besides money?”
At the time, Zhao Shuyi was young. He listened silently, unwilling to respond.
His Second Uncle, Zhao Huaicheng, however, was adept at catering to the Old Master’s wishes. He spoke grandly, “Of course not. Money is just a tool. The most important thing for a person is social responsibility. With great wealth comes great responsibility; we must be responsible to society.”
Zhao Huaicheng’s tone and expression were overly affected and standardized, like an actor delivering moral platitudes in a model play, making him seem very hypocritical.
He flattered Zhao Fengli: “Dad, you have already done so well. How many companies these days sacrifice profit for self-developed research? Didn’t the TV station interview praise us for ‘benefiting the nation and the people’ last time?”
Although what he said wasn’t entirely false, the tone made Zhao Shuyi nauseous.
Zhao Shuyi was never overly solicitous in front of his grandfather, precisely because his Second Uncle was too eager. He didn’t want to join Zhao Huaicheng in sucking up, as it disgusted him and he loathed the competition for favor.
Zhao Fengli naturally understood his son well. He bypassed Zhao Huaicheng and pointed at him: “Shuyi, what do you say?”
Zhao Shuyi looked away: “I don’t know.”
“Shuyi is still so young,” Zhao Huaicheng chuckled. “He’s at the age for eating, drinking, playing, and puppy love. Don’t always be so stern, Dad. It puts too much pressure on the child; how uncomfortable that must be.”
Zhao Fengli shook his head, looked at his son, then at his grandson, and suddenly sighed.
At the time, Zhao Shuyi didn’t understand why he sighed. Now he understood: the Old Master was probably realizing that his legacy had no successor and that his family was becoming estranged.
But everything wasn’t so bad that year. Now the Old Master was about to pass away, and none of the problems he worried about had been solved; in fact, they had worsened. How must he be feeling?
Zhao Shuyi wanted to ask him directly, but the habitually serious nature of their relationship prevented him from speaking. Even the slightest hint of a heartfelt conversation would seem overly sentimental.
Zhao Shuyi pressed his nose bridge, pinching it hard twice.
He didn’t know what Zhao Fengli truly felt for him. Was there anything beyond the “bias” born from their shared ideals? If he couldn’t inherit his grandfather’s ambition, would he be completely worthless?
When power and profit are paramount, kinship is a luxury, and Zhao Shuyi had never experienced it.
Even his own mother sided with Zhao Huaicheng, abandoning her biological son. What more was there to say?
Zhao Shuyi felt dizzy and leaned against the passenger window, closing his eyes.
He had looked unwell since waking up that morning. Xie Qi glanced at him while driving and asked several times, “Are you really okay?”
“I’m fine,” Zhao Shuyi said. “Just dreamed of something unlucky.”
“What unlucky thing?” Xie Qi was curious.
Zhao Shuyi didn’t answer. Xie Qi made his own connection: “Is it related to the medicine you take? Do you usually sleep poorly?”
“Mm.” Zhao Shuyi gave a perfunctory reply, offering no further explanation.
If Xie Qi had high emotional intelligence, he would have dropped the topic, but he insisted on digging deeper: “That kind of medicine has side effects, right? What year did you start taking it, and for how long?”
Zhao Shuyi frowned, giving him a sharp look: “Can you just focus on driving?”
“Tch.” Xie Qi pouted. “Why are you being so fierce? We’re dating now. What’s wrong with me asking a few questions? You’re so ungrateful.”
Zhao Shuyi ignored him and looked down at his phone.
However, a few minutes later, Xie Qi couldn’t resist again: “Zhao Shuyi, I suddenly remembered something. In the second semester of high school, we went out of town for a competition and stayed in a hotel together. Do you remember?”
“No,” Zhao Shuyi said mercilessly.
Xie Qi was annoyed: “Are you suffering from memory loss? You don’t remember this, you don’t remember that. I’m speechless.”
Zhao Shuyi said, “Can’t you just get to the point?”
Xie Qi scoffed: “It’s nothing. I just suddenly recalled that you didn’t seem to sleep well that day either. I kindly bought two breakfasts and knocked on your door, but you had such terrible morning temper. You cursed at me the moment you saw me, like a maniac…”
At the time, Zhao Shuyi’s face was as pale as it was today, and his expression was similarly cold, as if life held no joy for him; he was utterly world-weary.
Xie Qi thought carefully and could probably guess some of the reasons.
But Zhao Shuyi genuinely didn’t remember. Who could clearly recall every single day from the past?
That day was ordinary, nothing special.
Moreover, Zhao Shuyi felt that only half of Xie Qi’s self-serving nonsense could be believed. He always maintained high standards; Xie Qi must have been rude first for him to curse at someone.
The breakfast delivery was even more fake; Xie Qi was never that kind.
Zhao Shuyi couldn’t be bothered to argue. Unexpectedly, Xie Qi seized the moral high ground and adopted a magnanimous posture, saying, “Forget it. Even though you never gave me a good look before, I’m broad-minded enough to let bygones be bygones. I forgive you.”
“…Thank you,” Zhao Shuyi said, turning his face away in exasperation.
Traffic was heavy during the morning rush hour, but fortunately, the distance wasn’t far. Xie Qi drove slowly, but they eventually arrived.
They parked in the underground garage of the Ringzhou headquarters building and took the elevator to the company lobby. Xie Qi even clocked in.
It was commuting time, and the lobby was bustling. Xie Qi, dressed in a suit and tie, shed his usual lazy demeanor. His aura was so serious it was almost unfamiliar. He led Zhao Shuyi through the crowd toward the private elevator.
Employees they passed greeted them with a mix of familiarity and respect. Xie Qi merely gave a cool nod. Facing countless pairs of secretly observing eyes, he suddenly took Zhao Shuyi’s hand.
—From the moment they appeared, Zhao Shuyi had been recognized.
Although the Zhao Family was low-key and rarely appeared in the news, Zhao Shuyi’s face was unforgettable once seen. The news of his engagement to Xie Qi had rocked the entire city; everyone knew about it.
The moment their hands clasped, a wave of suppressed but audible whispers rippled through the surroundings. The concentration of gossip in the air shot up.
Zhao Shuyi frowned, leaned closer to Xie Qi, and mocked in a low voice, “Are you a peacock? Why do you love showing off so much?”
“I am,” Xie Qi said, suddenly kissing him, taking advantage of his whispering posture. “Otherwise, why call it a ‘debut’?”
Zhao Shuyi: “…”
So that’s what he meant by debut. He wouldn’t have come if he had known.
The probing gazes from all directions only disappeared when the elevator doors closed.
They arrived at Xie Qi’s office. Zhao Shuyi specifically looked at the sign on the door: COO (Chief Operating Officer), the second-in-command of Ringzhou Group. With such a high position, Xie Qi was theoretically second only to one person. But in layman’s terms: he had to listen to his father.
Zhao Shuyi smiled silently, curious about how much real power Xie Qi held.
Regardless, he certainly had more say than Zhao Shuyi did on the Chaoyang Board of Directors.
The office was spacious, a suite with a private bathroom and rest area. The decor was elaborate, almost exaggeratedly luxurious. Xie Qi didn’t come to work often, but his setup was grand.
Zhao Shuyi walked closer and saw several stacks of documents on the desk. He discreetly withdrew his gaze, careful not to look too closely.
“Not bad, right?” The luxurious office was another of Young Master Xie’s “feathers.” He proudly showed it off, adding a competitive jab: “How does it compare to your office?”
“It’s very nice,” Zhao Shuyi said. “My office is ordinary, just a place to work.”
“So boring.”
“You need fun while working?”
“Yes, working is annoying enough. If the office environment isn’t pleasing, I get even more irritated.”
“…”
That made sense, too.
Zhao Shuyi sat down on the sofa. Looking up inadvertently, he suddenly noticed a scroll-mounted calligraphy piece hanging on the wall. The handwriting looked familiar.
“Your grandfather wrote it,” Xie Qi said. “It’s only been a few years; don’t tell me you don’t remember again?”
“I remember.”
It was the piece Zhao Shuyi had given to Xie Qi.
However, rather than “given,” it was more like casually tossed to Xie Qi.
The incident occurred the year they returned from studying abroad.
Graduation was a major life event. To celebrate, Zhao Fengli personally inscribed a piece of calligraphy for Zhao Shuyi, telling him to hang it in his new home.
It read: The sun and moon rush past without pause; spring and autumn replace each other in sequence.
Zhao Shuyi’s Chinese proficiency had deteriorated after several years abroad, making classical Chinese even harder to understand. He looked at it from every angle. The literal meaning was clear, but Zhao Fengli’s underlying intent was elusive.
He vaguely felt that the Old Man seemed to be lamenting to him: Time flows uncontrollably, the sun and moon alternate, spring and autumn change, just as I am old, and you will replace me.
It might be an over-interpretation, but there was no other explanation.
What kind of celebration was this? The more Zhao Shuyi thought about it, the more depressed he became. Forget hanging it on the wall of his new home, he didn’t even want to look at it again.
Wang Deyang was nearby at the time. This man was a sycophant, good at praising the Old Master. He called it a rare treasure and claimed he wanted to snatch it away for safekeeping.
Wang Deyang was joking, but Zhao Shuyi seized the opportunity and handed it to him. Afterward, they went to dinner—a welcome banquet celebrating their graduation and return to the country. Xie Qi was also present.
It was just a thin piece of paper, not yet framed. Wang Deyang showed it off, and it was passed around until it ended up in Xie Qi’s hands.
Xie Qi heard the backstory, looked at it for a few moments, and said, “I want it. Give it to me.”
“Hey, you!” Wang Deyang tried to grab it but was silenced by a glare from Xie Qi. He turned to Zhao Shuyi to complain, “What’s he doing? Why is he stealing my prize? Shameless…”
Zhao Shuyi thought: I don’t want it anyway. You two can fight over it.
At the time, Zhao Shuyi thought Xie Qi was just deliberately provoking Wang Deyang, stirring up trouble and picking a fight with the two of them.
He never expected Xie Qi to actually hang it in his office.
“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Zhao Shuyi said, surprised. “Are you perhaps a fan of my grandfather, valuing his old scribble so much?”
“Believe what you want.”
Xie Qi’s expression was subtly unnatural. He said vaguely, “In any case, it’s better that it was given to me than to Wang Deyang!”
“Why?”
“I said it’s better, so it is.”
“…Fine.”