The following evening, the afterglow of the setting sun spilled over the courtyard walls of the old residence, dyeing them a warm, hazy yellow.
A small white car rushed to the entrance of the old residence and screeched to a halt. The car door was flung open, and Qiu Yihe stepped out quickly.
At this moment, her eyes were bloodshot, with heavy dark circles underneath.
She hadn't even had time to change out of her capable-looking dark work uniform.
For the past two days, she had been working around the clock at the State Security Bureau without even a moment to close her eyes. Yesterday, she had been busy all through the night, not even having a spare second to check her phone.
It wasn't until she finished her urgent tasks today that she remembered she had called Jiang Cheng over a dozen times, but none of them had been answered.
She clearly remembered that Jiang Cheng had gone to Myanmar for business. The situation there was complex and fraught with danger.
The moment her calls went unanswered, panic seized her. She didn't even have time to give detailed instructions for her handover before rushing over here.
Wang Sheng, who was leaning against the porch smoking, immediately extinguished his cigarette when he saw it was Qiu Yihe and spoke politely, "Miss Qiu."
Qiu Yihe didn't even stop. She rushed to the door, her gaze sweeping over the cars in the courtyard before fixing intently on the tightly closed windows upstairs.
Her voice was incredibly raspy, carrying an undisguisable urgency: "Where is he? Where's Jiang Cheng? Why hasn't he been answering my calls all day?"
Wang Sheng and Xia Li exchanged a look. Xia Li put down the gun she was wiping and stood up.
Seeing the panic in Qiu Yihe's eyes, she spoke with a hesitant tone, "Young Master Jiang has been upstairs since he returned from Myanmar yesterday and hasn't come down yet... The situation doesn't seem very good. Why don't you go see him..."
Before Xia Li could finish, Qiu Yihe's heart sank instantly.
"Hasn't come down since returning from Myanmar" and "the situation isn't good"—these words pierced her heart like needles. All her worries erupted in an instant. She could no longer restrain herself and turned to rush into the old residence.
She ran fast, her footsteps clattering loudly on the wooden stairs, so heavy it seemed she might step right through the boards.
Rushing to the slightly ajar door on the second floor, she practically crashed into it to push it open, shouting urgently, "Jiang Cheng! Are you hurt?"
Her eyes turned red the moment she pushed the door open.
She rushed in, only to find Jiang Cheng standing with his back to the door, wearing a loose white bathrobe.
Droplets of water from his wet hair dripped down, soaking the collar of his bathrobe and revealing his well-defined collarbones.
Qiu Yihe's heart tightened. She rushed behind him in a few steps, grabbed his shoulders, and forcefully turned him around.
Her hands frantically searched his body, feeling from his shoulders to his arms, from his arms to his chest, and then around to his back, her voice trembling: "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you injured? Let me see!"
Just then, a clear voice came from the computer on the desk.
The serious conversation of a ByteDance shareholders' meeting was discussing the thorny issue of the Indonesian ban; clearly, the meeting had reached a critical point.
Qiu Yihe's movements froze. Her gaze swept over the computer screen, only then realizing it was a video conference interface.
The figures of ByteDance's core shareholders, like Mr. Zhou of Sequoia and Zhang Yiming, were prominently visible. Everyone's expression held a hint of bewilderment, obviously not expecting a stranger to suddenly burst in.
Qiu Yihe's face instantly flushed from her cheeks to her ears. She abruptly let go of Jiang Cheng's arms and shrank back in embarrassment.
Jiang Cheng suppressed a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Sorry everyone, a private matter interrupted us. Let's continue the meeting."
As soon as he finished, Mr. Zhou of Sequoia was the first to speak: "Is President Jiang hiding a surprise? Looking at this, I'm afraid you're on your honeymoon? No need to hide it; a two-minute delay is no problem."
Zhang Yiming also gave a faint smile. "President Jiang certainly knows how to enjoy himself. Besides business, one needs someone by their side."
Jiang Cheng shook his head helplessly, his tone carrying a bit of amusement. "You're all making fun of me. It's just a little private matter; let's talk business first."
After saying that, he temporarily turned off his video feed and muted his microphone.
He turned to look at Qiu Yihe, whose face was still red.
"What injury? Aren't I perfectly fine?"
Qiu Yihe looked at his unharmed form and then at the screen with the muted microphone. Her tense nerves finally relaxed, but her eyes grew even redder.
Her nose felt sore, and her voice carried uncontrollable grievance and lingering fear.
"You scared me to death... I was working around the clock at the State Security Bureau last night and was busy all night. As soon as I had a moment today, I called you, but you never answered. I thought something happened to you in Myanmar. Then Sister Xia Li said you hadn't come down since you got back, so I thought you were injured..."
Jiang Cheng looked at the bloodshot veins in her eyes and her deep exhaustion. His heart softened, and he reached out to gently pat her shoulder.
He lowered his voice. "I'm fine. I just had some things to handle after getting back and have been busy with meetings, so I didn't notice my phone."
Qiu Yihe sniffled and suppressed the moisture in her eyes.
Seeing that the meeting was still going on on the screen.
She hurriedly took a step back and waved her hands sheepishly. "Sorry, sorry, I interrupted your meeting. You go ahead and get busy; I'll sit over here for a while and won't disturb you."
Jiang Cheng raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't push yourself too hard. Why don't you take a bath and relax..."
"When did I push myself too hard? You tell me to take a bath the moment we meet... You're up to no good..."
"Uh, did I remember wrong... then how about later..."
Qiu Yihe finally realized what Jiang Cheng was implying. She picked up the clothes on the bed and threw them directly at him. "You little pervert, you little hooligan... I don't want to talk to you..."
Despite saying that, she stubbornly walked toward the bathroom. "I haven't showered all night, so I really do need to wash up. But don't get any ideas; I'm just using your bathroom because I worked overtime and haven't showered. If you dare try anything with me later, see if I don't beat you to a pulp..."
"Blow me away? Qiu Yihe, with your lip service, aren't you overestimating yourself..."
"You... I said beat you to a pulp..."
Hearing the sounds of Jiang Cheng and Qiu Yihe's playful bickering from upstairs, Wang Sheng and Xia Li both finally breathed a sigh of relief.
And Jiang Cheng felt the same way at this moment.
Although Qiu Yihe was being boisterous and hadn't said any warm or comforting words to him.
Jiang Cheng knew she was showing her concern for him.
After glancing toward the bathroom, Jiang Cheng turned the audio back on for the online shareholders' meeting.
Zhang Yiming's voice was still ringing, carrying a final bit of reluctance: "Everyone, I know the current situation is difficult. Indonesia's reason for the ban is 'content harmful to minors,' we can solve this—we've already prepared a rectification plan: setting up a local moderation team in Indonesia, establishing a minor protection mechanism, and localizing the servers. As long as they agree, we can implement it within a week."
"President Zhang." Mr. Zhou of Sequoia spoke up, his tone heavy. "Do you think the problem is that simple?"
Zhang Yiming was stunned for a moment.
Mr. Zhou sighed. "Do you think the Indonesians don't know you can change? That's not what they want at all. Mohammed, the Deputy Minister of Communications in Indonesia, has a brother-in-law who opened a content moderation outsourcing company in Jakarta. Before the ban, that company approached you and demanded to handle Indonesia's content moderation business, asking for fifty million dollars a year. You didn't agree."
Zhang Yiming's fingers tightened around his phone.
At the time, he thought fifty million was too expensive and wanted to build his own team.
He hadn't expected... that this would lead to such a long string of problems.