The most absurd part of this whole situation was that her mother still believed Cheng Jinyu was the blind date Aunt Xue Yi had introduced to her.
She had previously told her mother that they were still in the “getting to know each other” phase and asked her not to spread the news.
Unexpectedly, Xu Qingying had actually kept it a secret.
She hadn’t even discussed it with Xue Yi.
And Xue Yi, assuming that Meng Chu and Li Huaiqian had never met in the first place, never brought it up either.
Back and forth, this misunderstanding had persisted until today.
The more Meng Chu thought about it, the more it felt like even the heavens were conspiring to help Cheng Jinyu keep his secret.
Something so easily exposed, yet it had dragged on for so long.
Eventually, Meng Chu stopped overthinking it and turned off the lights to sleep.
All this delay had brought her close to midnight again.
Though she often worked overtime, she tried her best to fall asleep before twelve.
But as she lay in bed, eyes closed, all she could hear was the faint hum of the air conditioner.
Had it always been this loud?
She hadn’t noticed before.
She lay there for who knows how long when the phone on her nightstand vibrated again.
Placed on the wooden surface, the sound was especially sharp.
Who could it be this time?
Meng Chu reached for her phone and saw the name on the screen.
-Cheng Jinyu.
You again.
She was about to put it down when she noticed he had sent a voice message.
After some hesitation, she finally unlocked her phone and played it.
“Meng Chu, I’m sorry.”
The man’s deep, pleasant voice resonated in the dark room.
With her ear pressed against the pillow, the sudden sound made it feel as though he were right beside her, whispering those words directly into her ear.
And on the screen, the timestamp of his message read:
00:00.
Meng Chu abruptly turned off her phone.
Did he think a simple “I’m sorry” could just sweep everything under the rug?
If he had the guts, he should keep sending them.
*
The next day passed uneventfully.
She tried her best to focus entirely on work.
The company was currently negotiating a collaboration with Linjiang Group, a logistics enterprise, aiming to conduct real-world scenario testing for Star Source Technology’s embodied robots within Linjiang’s operations.
For humanoid robots to achieve true commercialization, extensive scenario testing was essential.
Several domestic robotics companies had already partnered with major automotive manufacturers.
For Star Source to secure better development opportunities, collaborations with such enterprises were indispensable.
However, such partnerships depended on mutual willingness.
Star Source naturally wanted to finalize the deal quickly, but the other party remained hesitant.
Gu Ting had been pressing her relentlessly to sign the contract as soon as possible.
Even the usually patient Meng Chu couldn’t hold back: “Mr. Gu, collaboration is a two-way street.”
“I know, but you must understand that many companies are currently vying for partnerships with major automakers and factories,” Gu Ting paced around the office and added, “Just this week, Juchuang Technology announced collaborations with two major automakers.”
“Frankly, I know we’re different from Juchuang. They have the backing of Cloud Trace Capital.”
Meng Chu’s temple twitched involuntarily at the mention of Cloud Trace Capital.
But Gu Ting continued, “Cheng Jinyu is a formidable strategist. His investment in Juchuang instantly captured media and public attention.”
Great. Some people didn’t even need to appear for their names to keep surfacing.
“Meng Chu, we must step up our efforts.”
Meng Chu couldn’t help retorting, “Mr. Gu, while media and public attention are important, the product itself is what truly matters.”
Clearly, Gu Ting wasn’t interested in hearing that.
Back in her office, Meng Chu resumed communications with Linjiang Group’s representatives.
Due to the collaboration negotiations, she and her team spent the entire afternoon revising the project proposal.
After everyone else had left, she stayed behind, meticulously refining and optimizing the details.
Returning home, Meng Chu busied herself with showering and laundry.
By the time she lay in bed, she had already forgotten about last night’s voice message.
Until that familiar vibration sounded again.
Her eyes snapped open in the darkness.
Meng Chu lay still for a full minute before reaching for her phone on the nightstand.
She glanced at the screen. As expected.
It was another voice message from Cheng Jinyu, sent at midnight.
Opening her phone, she discovered today’s message wasn’t just one-it was two.
“On a business trip to Beijing today.”
“Meng Chu, I’m sorry.”
After listening, she understood the additional message.
A travel update, huh.
Just like the night before, she turned off her phone and went to sleep.
What Meng Chu didn’t anticipate was that her words would come back to haunt her.
In the following days.
Every night at exactly midnight, she received Cheng Jinyu’s voice messages without fail.
By the tenth night, Meng Chu lay in bed quietly awaiting the chime of midnight.
But as she waited, she suddenly sat upright.
Wait-why was she even waiting?
Right on cue, the familiar vibration sounded, and she reached for her phone.
“On a business trip to Shenzhen today.”
“Meng Chu, I’m sorry.”
Meng Chu listened to the two voice messages and felt the urge to reply for the first time.
It was because of this that it disturbed her rest every day.
Meng Chu pressed the voice button: “Starting tomorrow, don’t send them anymore. It affects my rest.”
But unexpectedly, the moment her message was sent, the other side immediately called.
After some hesitation, Meng Chu answered.
“I’ll change it to 9 a.m. from now on,” Cheng Jinyu’s cool voice traveled through the phone to her ears.
Meng Chu said, “What I mean is, you don’t need to send them at all.”
The other side seemed to pause for a moment before he finally said softly, “Have you forgiven me?”
“Who apologizes solely through voice messages?”
Meng Chu didn’t fall for it easily.
Cheng Jinyu seemed to chuckle.
“Alright, I’ll apologize in person.”
Meng Chu stayed silent.
“Alright, get some rest early,” Cheng Jinyu seemed to realize how late it was and took the initiative to say.
Meng Chu gave a soft “Mm” before hanging up.
The night passed peacefully until her alarm rang the next morning.
Meng Chu had always had a precise biological clock-she wasn’t the type to struggle with waking up.
After getting ready, she went downstairs around 8 a.m., preparing to head to the company.
As she stepped out of the building and walked toward the main road of the residential area—
Suddenly, a cool voice called out, “Meng Chu.”
Meng Chu instinctively turned and saw a tall figure standing beside a car not far away.
The early morning sunlight fell gently on his face, making him appear even more striking than usual.
She froze in place.
By the time Cheng Jinyu walked up to her, Meng Chu blurted out, “Didn’t you say last night you were in Shenzhen?”
“Didn’t you say an apology only counts if it’s in person?”
Cheng Jinyu stared straight at her.
His eyes seemed to shimmer with fragments of the morning sun—all traces of cool sharpness gone, leaving only clarity.
“Meng Chu, I’m sorry.”