Lin Yuchan’s eyes widened as she drew in a soft breath.

“It can’t be…”

“Baoluo says he has fallen deeply in love and cannot extricate himself. Seeing you daily leaves him unable to concentrate on work, and he feels deeply sorry to me as his employer. He begs to resign on his initiative and requests that I find another capable manager.” Rong Hong spread the resignation letter before her, speaking slowly, “Miss Lin, he didn’t say a single bad word about you in the entire letter.”

The letter paper bore several lines of beautiful, regular script. Lin Yuchan bit her lip and suddenly slammed the table as she stood up.

“What a pity. I’ll go talk to him.”

“Sit down.” Rong Hong’s voice became somewhat stern, “It was useless when I talked to him. If you go, wouldn’t that be adding insult to injury?”

Lin Yuchan was somewhat flustered, pinching her own fingers as she gently sat on half the chair, asking: “What do you plan to do?”

If she had known this would happen, she would rather have fallen out with her landlord, moved house, and even stopped the tea can production line…

On second thought, no—that third cost was too high.

Better to work with Rong Hong to properly handle this mess.

Rong Hong tapped his pen tip, his brow furrowing from time to time, like a teacher grading papers who had encountered an unconventional essay and was hesitating whether to give it a high score.

After a long while, he said quietly, “Miss Lin, you are very talented. At such a young age, and being a woman, you rank among the outstanding merchants I’ve encountered. Thanks to you, Boya Trading House’s accounts have been quite impressive these past few months. Your arrival has injected much fresh blood into us and opened many new avenues of thinking. Meeting you has been Rong’s honor.”

For every sentence he spoke, Lin Yuchan quietly thanked him, while an ominous feeling gradually grew in her heart.

She couldn’t help saying: “The past was all small-scale dabbling. I’m still learning, just getting the hang of things. We just signed new contracts, and the trading house’s prospects are…”

Rong Hong raised his voice slightly: “But Baoluo and I have known each other for many years—he’s half employee, half friend. Many of my translations have received his help, and many clients like this shy but wise young manager. I cannot bear the cost of losing him. Moreover, if he suddenly resigns, others in the firm will surely speculate, and the topic will inevitably turn to you. You would be severely isolated.”

He only hinted at this, needing no elaboration—when a manager of many years resigns because of a newly arrived young lady, without even thinking, one could imagine how harshly words like “troublemaker” and “romantic debt” would be hurled.

He, Rong Hong, could control himself not to think this way. But could he control others?

It was already the beginning of autumn, and the weather had cooled. The oak desktop was waxed, feeling ice-cold against her wrist.

Lin Yuchan took a deep breath, feeling a bitter taste under her tongue.

She raised her head and said slowly, “I can make more money than he.”

Six blunt words that tore open a bloody wound of competition in this tender, affectionate little family.

Rong Hong needed to consider the bigger picture, but she had to fight for herself. She couldn’t just submit to slaughter without resistance.

“I know.” Rong Hong lowered his eyes, unmoved, “But money isn’t the most important thing. Especially here with me. You should know that, too.”

Lin Yuchan sighed weakly, feeling as if something was blocking her chest, making breathing difficult.

“You’re the boss. I respect your decision.” She struggled to keep her tone calm, retreating to advance, “But the 500,000 pounds of tea in the warehouse won’t wait. If I leave, are you certain Baoluo can take good care of them?”

That was the fruit of several months of her heart’s blood. The idea of going deep into war zones to collect tea was hers, every step of tea processing was handled by her, the roasting temperature was measured by her own hand with a thermometer, the packaging tin cans were designed stroke by stroke by people she found…

She remembered eating xiaolongbao with Mau Shunniang during work breaks, one bite at a time, hissing from the heat while discussing trivial work details…

Her eyes suddenly became sour and hot. She clenched her fists.

Rong Hong hesitated for a moment, then sighed deeply, his eyes full of guilt.

“Miss Lin, I’m sorry…” his voice was hoarse, saying word by word, “I’m sorry. I know you did nothing wrong, but life is like this, isn’t it? I very much want to make this world full of fairness, but sometimes I’m powerless… When I was studying law in Hong Kong, my legal documents were superior to everyone else’s, yet they collectively voted to withhold my lawyer’s certificate, simply because my skin color was different from others… I once worked as a manager at a British trading house, full of ambition, sleeping only four hours a day, but they suddenly decided to close the Shanghai branch, and all my efforts came to nothing… Miss Lin, I don’t expect you to forgive me, but when you reach my age, perhaps you’ll understand some things…”

His voice was world-weary, compared to that adventurer who hid guns under counters and risked losing his head to secretly investigate Nanjing; he seemed to have aged ten years in an instant.

Lin Yuchan pressed her hand firmly over her mouth, blinking hard. A few tears fell on the oak desktop, and she finally couldn’t help but let out a soft sob.

She nodded with difficulty.

Rong Hong’s approach was entirely correct. Even in the twenty-first century, those disciplined, excellent enterprises would handle such office romance situations with equal cruelty: one leaves, one stays.

Or both leave.

No room for discussion.

In the end, she was merely a powerless woman. Despite having some ability, she couldn’t compare to the years of service and friendship of Boya Trading House’s many employees.

Could she shake his shoulders and demand to know how much weight she carried in his heart?

This wasn’t a romance drama.

Everyone was busy. Busy surviving, busy eating, busy sleeping, busy making money. In this world, no one would unconditionally accommodate her.

If she were Rong Hong, she would easily make the same choice.

“What about the tea?” she asked, her voice trembling but persistent.

Rong Hong said, “I’ve looked at the work logs. Your tea processing chain has taken shape, and everyone is familiar with it. I believe you can hand it over smoothly. In the future… sigh, I hope we’ll still have opportunities to cooperate.”

He stood up, looking down at this young lady who was half his age. She sat in the chair with her slender back straight, one hand pressed to her forehead, shoulders trembling slightly, eyes already red, yet she stubbornly held back, not making a sound.

It reminded him of his younger self. The youth who traveled across oceans was all alone, and no matter how excellent his schoolwork, he still suffered bullying. When wronged in a foreign land, he would climb alone to the snow-covered church bell tower, gazing toward his homeland.

But this bustling world was just that cruel. Even if he wanted to keep her, all the clerks in the entire shop would surely resign collectively with Chang Baoluo.

The monetary loss was secondary. These people were all like-minded individuals he had painstakingly gathered over the years. Perhaps their abilities weren’t top-tier, but each was his friend.

Rong Hong waited patiently for a long time.

When she had calmed down somewhat, he said: “I’m very sorry to you. You don’t need to return the signing bonus, and although you only worked one week this month, I’ll pay your full salary. Additionally, all expenses for your street visits and deal negotiations, I’ll compensate double. Miss Lin, is this acceptable?”

Lin Yuchan wiped her tears forcefully, laughing between sobs: “That’s quite a windfall. Thank you.”

Rong Hong knew this girl had a strong personality. He had expected her to be aggressive, to make a big scene, perhaps making things difficult and ugly. So he had already sent the clerks home early to preserve everyone’s face.

Yet unexpectedly, she didn’t utter a single harsh word, and even her few arguments left room for compromise.

He felt even more apologetic, saying softly, “If you have difficulties in life, I can try to help. Um… I can also use some connections to see if other firms would be willing to hire you… It’s just that you’re a woman, which might require more persuasion, but I’ll try my best…”

“No need to trouble yourself.” She said stiffly, “I can make my arrangements.”

She consoled herself that this wasn’t the end of the world. Cooperating with Rong Hong had been a surprise anyway, and she had already earned quite a bit of money at Boya…

Besides, it wasn’t as if she had no fallback options… Yixing was hiring an accountant and wouldn’t shortchange her…

Su Minguan, that jinx—whatever he said came true.

Thinking of his promise, she almost couldn’t hold back her tears.

Rong Hong was still worried, asking: “You don’t hate me?”

Lin Yuchan pressed her lips tightly together, shook her head, and smiled with effort: “I can’t walk right now. Let me sit here a bit longer.”

“Stay as long as you like.” Rong Hong immediately said, “I’ve already told the clerks to finish work. Um… shall I treat you to dinner later? Would you like French or Italian cuisine? I’ll have someone make reservations.”

He heard no answer. Sighing, he gently closed the door and half-reclined in a garden bamboo chair, grabbing a newspaper to read randomly.

“Perhaps she’ll have a good cry in there,” he thought, “a good cry will help. I was the same when I was young.”

There was no sound from inside. After a long while, Lin Yuchan slowly pushed the door open. Her clothes were still neat, the small bag in her hand was tidily arranged, and she had wiped away the tear stains from the corners of her eyes. When turning around, she even remembered to close the door tightly and kick back the doorstop.

“The memorandum for the tea handover is on your desk.” She bowed to Rong Hong, “I drank a pot of your coffee. Sorry about that.”

Rong Hong sighed deeply and silently. He sat there emptily, not knowing for how long, as the sky gradually darkened and a few drops of rain fell on his face.

The sounds of vehicles and people on Saigon Road suddenly seemed so clear. Birds returning to their nests in the twilight chattered noisily, the blooming flowers in the garden tiredly lowered their heads, small vendors sold off their wares at reduced prices before closing up, and even the street patrol officers had shed their fierce expressions, laughing as they discussed where to drink after work.

For some people, they had merely ended a peaceful and ordinary day.

For some people, something very important was lost today.

…

Suddenly, light footsteps reappeared, hurrying toward him.

Rong Hong started and sat up.

Lin Yuchan had returned, clutching her small bag, her chest rising and falling, unable to suppress her excitement.

Rong Hong thought, didn’t she bring an umbrella?

Lin Yuchan reached up to wipe the rainwater from her face.

“Mr. Rong,” she smiled at him with red-rimmed eyes, “I forgot to ask you something earlier.”

Rong Hong nodded indifferently.

Though he looked like a good-natured person, he also had his bottom line. Someone had to be offended today—let her argue as she pleased.

“How foolish of me. I didn’t realize earlier that the main contradiction in this matter isn’t ‘either I or Chang Baoluo must leave.'” Lin Yuchan said in one breath, “But rather than that, he loses focus at work whenever he sees me, so we two cannot work at the same firm.”

Rong Hong asked coolly: “Is there a difference?”

“Of course there’s a difference.” Lin Yuchan’s eyes sparkled with clear light as she smiled and asked him, “Mr. Rong, Boya Trading House’s business is increasingly prosperous. Have you ever considered opening a branch office?”