They’d booked tickets late, so their seats were in the last row. Li Xiaoyi sat down by the window. Li Weiyi had just started to follow when someone grabbed her collar and pulled her to the seat across the aisle. At that moment, Zhong Yi’s long legs blocked the way as he sat down on Li Xiaoyi’s side.

Li Weiyi: “…”

She turned to look at Zhang Jingchan, who’d pulled her back, and said faintly: “You two have quite the coordination.”

Zhang Jingchan sat down on her outer side: “In any case, it wouldn’t be your turn to sit with Li Xiaoyi.”

Li Weiyi: …Fair enough.

Li Xiaoyi saw her “sister” sitting across the aisle and immediately said to Zhong Yi: “Switch seats with my sister!”

Zhong Yi looked away: “Not switching.”

Li Xiaoyi’s face alternated between red and white as she called out: “Weiyi, come sit here!” There was still an empty seat between her and Zhong Yi. The cabin door had already closed—there was no one else.

Zhang Jingchan answered: “Zhong Yi won’t let her.”

Li Xiaoyi’s face grew even redder.

The plane took off. Li Weiyi gazed at the night scenery outside the window when she suddenly heard Zhang Jingchan ask: “Do you still remember what you memorized?”

Li Weiyi: “…” She’d completely forgotten about this! She’d hastily memorized it all before crossing over, then spent a hectic day—it felt like ages ago. She immediately began nervously recalling in her mind.

The capitalist beside her asked in a cool voice: “What’s the group’s daily interest burden?”

“Uh… fifty-four thousand, and compound interest needs to be calculated too.”

“This year’s real estate sales ratio?”

“Less than fifty percent, and still falling.”

“How many competitor properties of the same type as Vienna Villas are in stock?”

“Uh… um…”

Zhang Jingchan sneered coldly.

Li Weiyi: “Wait, don’t tell me! Let me think again! Stock quantity…”

Under the cabin’s soft yellow lighting, Zhang Jingchan watched the youth cup his face in both hands, deep in thought. Anyone who saw this would praise how handsome and adorable he looked. He raised his hand, making as if to knock on her head: “Three… two… one.”

“I’m about to remember it!” Li Weiyi grabbed his fingers.

“The answer is one thousand eight hundred.” “…Three thousand?” Two voices sounded simultaneously.

His hand broke through her obstruction, his knuckles knocking on her head with a “thunk.”

Li Weiyi clutched her head and rebuked angrily: “Don’t you know how to show tender care?”

“Are you currently counting as fragrant or as jade?”

Li Weiyi paused. Looking up, she saw a small cabin light casting a soft glow over his face, his eyes bright and clear, his nose distinctly defined. His legs were lightly crossed, one arm resting on the armrest between them, his body turned slightly toward her, a hint of laughter flickering in his eyes.

Though he clearly had the appearance of a delicate young woman, Li Weiyi seemed to see that man sitting behind the ink-marble desk.

Somehow, she smiled too.

The two gazed at each other for a moment, both startled. Zhang Jingchan quickly suppressed his smile, his eyes deepening like a dark pool. Li Weiyi uncomfortably turned her head away and said: “I’ll review it more carefully.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll try not to get any more wrong.”

“No problem. One million deducted per mistake.”

“Zhang Jingchan, do you have any humanity?”

“No.”

Though Li Weiyi wasn’t looking at him, she laughed again.

Li Weiyi studied diligently for half an hour. Feeling she had it down, she dozed off in a daze. As soon as she fell asleep, Zhang Jingchan noticed. He glanced at her twice, dimmed her light for her, pulled down the window shade, then asked a flight attendant for a blanket and gently covered her with it. Afterward, he stared fixedly ahead until the plane landed.

They arrived at the hotel past midnight. When getting room keys, Li Xiaoyi panicked again because Zhang Jingchan had booked four executive rooms that sounded very expensive—one per person. Li Xiaoyi was beginning to suspect why a competition organizer would book such luxurious rooms, and she hadn’t seen any other teachers either.

This was another moment for Li Weiyi to perform. She said: “My family’s group has shares in this hotel. The internal agreement price is as cheap as cabbage—don’t worry about it.”

Li Xiaoyi had never stayed at a hotel of this caliber and was dubious. She then suggested that her “sister” should sleep in the same bed with her to save on one room. But as soon as the words left her mouth, the other three said simultaneously: “No way!”

Li Weiyi secretly sidled up to Zhong Yi and asked: “Why did you object?”

Zhong Yi touched his nose without answering. Could he say that every time he saw that “sister” with a two-point-eight-meter aura getting close to Li Xiaoyi, he actually felt jealous? How strange.

The night passed peacefully.

When Li Weiyi arrived at the restaurant, she saw Zhang Jingchan sitting alone in a corner from afar. She got her breakfast and sat down across from him.

“How did you sleep?” Zhang Jingchan asked.

“Very well, full of energy—one million per mistake after all.” Li Weiyi said sourly.

Zhang Jingchan only smiled without responding. After a night’s rest, he no longer had the casual, playful demeanor he’d shown on the plane. That faint layer of coldness seemed to have settled over his brow, eyes, temples, and fingers once again.

He handed her a USB drive.

“What’s this?”

“The proposal.” He said, “My father definitely has a laptop. Play it while you present.”

Li Weiyi: “!!!!!!”

She immediately understood and asked: “You made this overnight?”

“Yes.”

Only then did Li Weiyi notice the dark circles under his eyes: “How late did you stay up?”

Zhang Jingchan didn’t answer.

Li Weiyi felt sorry for him again. She gripped the USB drive tightly, reached across the table, and patted his shoulder: “Even if not for that hundred million, I won’t fail this mission.”

Zhang Jingchan smiled again. Li Weiyi suddenly realized that his smile this morning was exactly the same as when he’d driven her through the underwater tunnel that night.

“I’ll definitely give it my all,” Li Weiyi said earnestly.

He glanced at her and said: “Great kindness needs no thanks.”

Li Weiyi smiled slightly: “Where are my sister and the others?”

“I had Zhong Yi take her out.”

Li Weiyi gave a thumbs up: “Didn’t expect you’d be quite suited to playing matchmaker.”

Zhang Jingchan glanced at her coolly, picked up the USB drive she’d just placed on the table, and tucked it into his pocket.

Li Weiyi quickly grabbed his sleeve: “I was wrong, I was wrong—isn’t that enough!”

The reason they were staying at this hotel was because Zhang Moyun’s party was also lodging here. After arriving last night, Zhang Jingchan had already contacted the secretary by phone, making sure he reserved two hours of Zhang Moyun’s time this morning.

Now, Zhang Moyun was waiting for his son in a conference room arranged by the secretary.

Zhang Jingchan escorted Li Weiyi to the elevator entrance on that floor. The corridor was quiet, the lights brilliant, completely empty.

Li Weiyi unconsciously rubbed her hands together.

“Nervous?” Zhang Jingchan asked, staring into her eyes.

“I’m okay.” She answered honestly. After working several years, she’d also done several important project presentations. But this was her first time reporting directly to such a large group’s chairman, and she had to pretend to be his own son—it would be a lie to say she wasn’t panicked at all.

Her face was a bit flushed, but her eyes were bright and resolute. Taking a deep breath, she said: “Then I’m going.”

Zhang Jingchan suddenly reached out and pressed down on one of her shoulders. Li Weiyi thought he was going to give instructions, but he let go again, lowered his head with a smile—a smile that finally carried a hint of bitterness.

He said: “Achan-Li, I’m waiting for the fate you’ll rewrite for me.”

Li Weiyi pushed open the conference room door. The room was flooded with sunlight. A man stood with his back to her by the window curtains, wearing a suit, his posture upright and solid.

Li Weiyi held her breath.

Previously, she’d only tried to influence the fates of family members. Even having drawn Zhong Yi into the situation, all she could do was facilitate things—no one’s fate was truly in her hands. Perhaps because of Zhang Jingchan’s slightly desolate words, at this moment she truly felt that she was about to forcefully reverse someone else’s destiny. And not just one person, not just three people, but many, many people. Success or failure—it all came down to this.