Zhou Shíyì stared at the last line of the note. She knew he wouldn’t come back here, and rather than contacting him directly, she chose to apologize this way.
In fact, getting back together was just a matter of one phone call or a few messages, without even needing an apology.
Yet, she deleted his contact information.
There was a sound on the stairs as the bodyguard carried the painting downstairs.
Zhou Shíyì never looked up; his gaze stayed fixed on that note, focusing now on the first line, repeatedly reading the words “Belgium” and “chocolate.”
He shouldn’t have seen that note at this moment.
But now that he had, he wasn’t going to be satisfied just because they were distant from each other.
“Mr. Zhou, it’s done.”
Only then did Zhou Shíyì pull his eyes away from the note and ask, “Is there anything in the study?”
“Only a few rows of books in the bookcase. I checked—they’re your old professional books.”
Zhou Shíyì nodded. The gifts he had bought for her, she should have thrown away before returning to China.
He took his suit from the armrest of the sofa and placed the fridge magnets and the note inside the pocket.
Outside, the rain hadn’t stopped.
The bodyguard held an umbrella over the painting, having worked with his boss for many years. He knew his temper well—he would definitely bring the painting to the car first, then come back for him.
The driver was about to get out of the car with an umbrella when he saw Zhou Shíyì walk straight into the courtyard, unwilling to hold an umbrella himself.
Luckily, the car was parked not far from the gate, just a few steps away.
The driver handed over a dry towel, but Zhou Shíyì declined, dusted off the raindrops on his shoulder, and instructed, “Go to the airport.”
“?”
The driver thought he misheard.
The boss had said on the plane he would rest for a night and return the next morning.
Zhou Shíyì called Zhan Liang and asked him to change the flight application to Brussels.
Zhan Liang: “Got it, Mr. Zhou.
Why is the boss suddenly flying to Belgium?”
It was the boss’s private matter, so he didn’t ask further.
While sending messages to arrange for the secretary, Zhan Liang told Du, “Mr. Zhou won’t be in Beicheng these days. Since he’s decided to co-develop the Self-Developed Chip, he won’t change his mind. It’s not something I can persuade him on.”
Du: “Even if you can’t persuade him, you have to try! Apart from Zhōng Yì, you’re the only one he listens to!”
Zhan Liang thought: No matter how much you praise me, I’m not taking this task.
As the general assistant, he knew his limits.
Du: “I told him more than once it’s a pit of fire! He just wouldn’t believe it and insists on dragging me into it!
“Oh, by the way, Du,” Zhan Liang shifted the topic, “for the new car launch, Mr. Zhou wants the interaction with the brand ambassador to be as short as possible. You’ll be the one to interact with Lu Cheng more.”
Du was still furious about the chip development and grumbled, “What does he mean? Last time, Lu Cheng waved his hand at the concert, and there were platform-wide splash screen ads for support! Now, with the chance to meet face to face, he’s unwilling. What, is he an internet celebrity scared of the spotlight?”
Zhan Liang ignored it and continued, “Send more invitations for the new car launch to Jinghe.
Whether Zhōng Yì wants to attend is not up to him, but the invitations must be ready.”
***
On a Monday afternoon, Zhōng Yì landed in Jiangcheng.
From the airport, she went straight to Kuncheng Semiconductor.
Zhou Sujin had brought his daughter to the company today. Whenever his wife traveled, he always brought the child along.
Chén Chén was very well-behaved; just a few toys kept her quietly occupied. She never cried or fussed, never disrupting his work.
“Chén Chén.”
Chén Chén was lying on the sofa, chatting with her doll.
Hearing her father call, she suddenly looked up, fluttering her long eyelashes: “Ah?”
Zhou Sujin asked, “Do you remember Auntie?”
Chén Chén smiled and nodded vigorously.
Though she hadn’t seen her for a while, she really didn’t remember who it was.
Zhou Sujin said, “The auntie who took you on the boat ride.”
Chén Chén’s eyes lit up, thinking Auntie was going to take her on the boat again. She scrambled up, forgetting her toys, searching everywhere for her socks.
Zhou Sujin laughed at his daughter, “Come here, to Daddy.”
Chén Chén slid off the sofa with her socks and ran into her father’s arms.
Zhou Sujin sat the little bundle on his lap, putting socks on her while kissing the top of her head.
“Daddy!” Chén Chén pointed at her bun, “Peach Peach!”
Zhou Sujin understood and smoothed her hair, re-clipping the cherry hairpin.
Chén Chén stood on her father’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheeks several times.
Zhou Sujin’s fatigue from the day vanished in an instant.
“Auntie still isn’t here.”
“Almost.”
Zhou Sujin coaxed his daughter.
After the sixth time, Chén Chén finally looked eagerly toward the door.
Zhōng Yì didn’t expect Chén Chén to be there as well. The moment she entered, the little one threw herself into her arms.
Zhou Sujin said, “My wife isn’t in Jiangcheng today.”
Explaining why he had brought the child to the company.
Zhōng Yì thought back to her childhood, when her father would take her to the office to handle emergencies.
The only difference was that whenever she went, the entire floor was empty except for Secretary Yang.
“Auntie, boat ride.” Chén Chén looked at Zhōng Yì with eyes full of anticipation.
Just then, the secretary brought over coffee.
Zhou Sujin took his daughter and patiently explained, “Auntie has work today.”
He pointed outside, “It’s almost dark; the grandfather who rows the boat has to get off work and eat dinner. We’ll go tomorrow, okay?”
Chén Chén nodded, “Okay!”
Zhōng Yì recalled her own father saying something similar back then. But unlike Chén Chén, she wasn’t so obedient. She hugged her dad’s neck and said, “Daddy, grandpa’s off work, you row!”
Chén Chén returned to the sofa to continue playing with her doll.
Zhou Sujin invited Zhōng Yì to sit. They had already briefly discussed matters over the phone, so once seated, they went straight to the point.
“Zhou Shíyì wants to implement your proposal. Forget the board, my eldest uncle will be the biggest obstacle.”
Zhōng Yì: “Zhou Shíyì will definitely find a way to resolve that. I’m only responsible for financing.”
“Why not approach Zhou Jiayan? He’s in Beicheng, easier for him than coming to Jiangcheng to see me.”
“He might not want to invest.
If you borrowed money privately from Zhou Jiayan, he’d probably be willing, but when it comes to major company decisions, he won’t take it lightly.”
Zhou Sujin smiled faintly, “I’m not sure I’d invest either.”
If it had been Zhou Shíyì here today, he’d have said directly: not investing, you find whoever you want.
When he advised his Tangdi to help Kuncheng Motors, Tangdi flatly refused: not considering it.
Why he later took over was probably related to Zhōng Yì.
Zhou Sujin: “Since we’re talking about cooperation, let’s keep business and personal separate. Tell me why you came to me.”
Zhōng Yì: “Er Ge, take a look at these.”
She handed over the prepared documents.
Zhou Sujin was the third youngest in the Zhou family’s younger generation, but since he had an older biological brother, everyone referred to him as Er Ge.
Zhōng Yì continued, “Er Ge, one reason you’re pushing the improvement of Da Gong technology so hard is because Kuncheng Motors’ Self-Developed Chip back then couldn’t be mass-produced.”
Not only did the Self-Developed Chip face technical bottlenecks, it couldn’t be mass-produced, so the project had to be shelved.
Years later, the chip design was obsolete, and all investments were wasted.
Hearing this, Zhou Sujin was silent for a moment.
When the chip project was stopped, Kuncheng Motors was still under his management.
The losses were more than just financial; the failure to mass-produce was a harsh blow for everyone.
Zhōng Yì added, “I’m here not only to discuss cooperation but also to understand your current process capabilities.”
Zhou Sujin flipped through the documents and bluntly said, “They’re nowhere near enough to produce your specialized chip.”
To catch up with international process levels in the short term? Easier said than done. He had already prepared for eight or even ten years.
Zhōng Yì: “Precisely because of that, we need to work together even harder.
A chip can never be produced by just a few teams or companies.”
“You invested in a 3D Packaging Company at the end of last year, didn’t you? To achieve technological synergy sooner.”
Not only did he invest in the packaging and testing field, but since Zhou Sujin took over Kuncheng Semiconductor, he had made comprehensive arrangements across dozens of industry segments.
This also left him with little time to focus on Kuncheng Motors.
Handing over Kuncheng Motors to Zhou Shíyì allowed him more time to focus on semiconductors.
After a pause, she continued, “Actually, I’m not sure if cross-industry cooperation with the chip side can design the intelligent driving model I want. But without trying, we’ll never move forward, and technology will always be held back.”
Becoming a giant in the field had been her youthful ambition, and she had been working toward it.
As for the outcome, she didn’t care, because it wasn’t something she controlled.
Zhou Sujin looked up from the documents, “You might not know, but Kuncheng Semiconductor is now a one-man show—my word is final.”
All his investments and deployments had met with board opposition, but he pushed through despite the pressure.
Zhōng Yì: “I know, I heard from my dad.”
Such resolve wasn’t something just anyone had.
That was why she came to him—to pursue cooperation.
They shared a common goal: achieving technological synergy.
Zhōng Yì: “Jinghe has been burning money on chip R&D and operating at a loss. But my cousin never gave up.”
Zhou Sujin closed the files and calmly said, “Min Ting told me it’s profitable now.”
Zhōng Yì smiled, “See? I sold my own brother out.”
Zhou Sujin left the thick documents with her: “I’ll take time to study them and get back to you after your wedding.”
If he was willing to look at her analysis, it was almost a done deal.
The two talked in detail about process issues.
Before they knew it, over an hour had passed, and dusk had fallen.
“What about Zhou Shíyì? Didn’t he come?” After finishing work, he finally asked about his Tangdi.
Zhōng Yì: “He’s on a business trip in Boston.”
He should still be in Boston. Due to the time difference, they hadn’t contacted much these days.
Maybe because the trip to Jiangcheng was too quiet, she checked the weather in Boston—it had been raining for days.
She thought of the hydrangeas at the door, planted before the breakup, wondering how they were doing now.
Kuncheng Motors had no business in Boston.
Zhou Sujin casually asked, “His own company’s matters?”
Zhōng Yì: “I didn’t ask.”
Knowing their current relationship, Zhou Sujin didn’t press further.
Zhōng Yì put down her coffee cup and picked up the little bundle beside her.
While they talked, the little one had been whispering to her doll quietly, not disturbing them.
“Auntie bought you lots of toys. Let’s go get them from the car downstairs, okay?”
“Okay!” Chén Chén happily touched the ends of her short hair, “Thank you, Auntie!”
Zhōng Yì smiled, “You’re welcome.”
Zhou Sujin checked his watch and called the Yuesao to arrange for Chén Chén to be sent to her grandmother’s house tonight.
He packed up the materials and apologized, “You and Chén Chén eat first. I won’t keep you—I have to rush to Shanghai.
My wife is on a business trip there these days; I’m going to see her.”
“You focus on your work. Family doesn’t need to be so formal.”
Zhōng Yì carried Chén Chén downstairs, having dinner with the little one.
***
Leaving Kuncheng Tower, she took Chén Chén to a frequently visited Hong Kong-style tea restaurant next to her hotel.
Chén Chén enjoyed the shrimp dumplings—her favorite, and now the little one’s as well.
She never imagined that one day she would become the best dining companion for a child just over a year old.
After dinner, the Yuesao took Chén Chén to her grandmother’s.
Zhōng Yì bought a coffee and wheeled her suitcase to check into the hotel.
She had stayed here last time for a concert and booked without hesitation this time.
In the lobby lounge, the bodyguard saw a familiar figure enter and quietly informed the resting boss, “Mr. Zhou, Miss Zhōng has arrived.”
They were used to calling her Miss Zhōng; it slipped out naturally.
Zhou Shíyì opened his eyes and nodded in acknowledgment.
He had flown direct from Brussels to Shanghai and wasted no time getting to Jiangcheng.
“Zhōng Yì.” He stood and approached.
Zhōng Yì thought she imagined it until she saw the man walking toward her.
He had just arrived at the hotel; his hair was still damp after showering.
As he drew near, she asked, “Why didn’t you call me?”
Zhou Shíyì didn’t answer but only hummed.
She had said before that if he came to pick her up, she would be happy, so she hadn’t insisted.
“Have you eaten dinner?” he asked.
“I have. I ate with Chén Chén.”
Zhou Shíyì nodded toward the front desk, signaling her to check in first. “After you deliver your luggage to the room, come down and have dinner with me.”
Then he added, “No rush—I’ll be waiting in the restaurant.”
Zhōng Yì didn’t ask which floor he was staying on and went straight to check in.
Back in her room, she opened her suitcase and looked over her clothes again.
She hadn’t expected him to come to Jiangcheng on a business trip and only brought professional attire, not even a single dress.
She took off the black-and-white silk scarf and changed into something brighter.
After fixing her makeup and making sure her hairstyle was perfect, she took the room key and went downstairs.
The lobby lounge was empty; she didn’t see the familiar figure.
He hadn’t said which restaurant he was waiting in, so Zhōng Yì left the hotel lobby and turned right toward the Hong Kong-style tea restaurant.
Coincidentally, he was sitting in the very seat where she and Chén Chén had been.
The food she ordered hadn’t arrived yet. Zhou Shíyì leaned back in his chair, listlessly gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone sit across from him and shifted his gaze back inside.
Zhōng Yì saw the familiar logo on the paper bag on the table—the chocolate only sold locally in Belgium. Every time he went on a business trip, he never forgot to bring her some. It lasted her a long time.
She opened the bag and unwrapped a piece.
“I once went on a business trip to Brussels and bought this chocolate too.”
Zhou Shíyì only looked at her, making no response.
She nibbled the chocolate—it tasted the same as always.
Her food arrived, and Zhou Shíyì focused on eating. They didn’t speak anymore.
He came directly to Jiangcheng to pick her up and even made a special trip to Brussels to buy her chocolate. Zhōng Yì knew well, with his personality, how difficult it was for him to make such a compromise.
She ate the chocolate while standing up, moved the empty chair next to him, and sat down close beside him.
Sitting down, their arms naturally touched.
After three years apart, they finally sat as close as before.
Zhou Shíyì glanced at her sideways; she finally knew to lean on him.