CHAPTER 53: PETTY RIVALRIES

"Cousin, are you done interrogating me? If so, I’m leaving," Qi Jianyi’s voice cut through the heavy air with a cool detachment. She didn’t bother sparing a glance at Song Chengfeng, her gaze fixed solely on He Zeqing.

Their little plan to watch a movie had been unceremoniously disrupted, thanks to He Zeqing’s unexpected appearance. Any hopes of enjoying a quiet afternoon were dashed.

Qi Jianyi certainly had no intention of explaining their plan to him. The last thing she needed was for him to unleash his infamous, never-ending stream of questions.

Although He Zeqing’s curiosity still lingered, he knew better than to push further. His questions hung in the air, unsatisfied, but he swallowed them for now. He cast a glance at Song Chengfeng, searching for answers in the man’s silence, but found none.

Before He Zeqing could offer to drive her home, Qi Jianyi turned to Song Chengfeng with an offhanded, almost dismissive question. "You’re driving me back, right?"

Though it was phrased as a question, there was no mistaking the subtle command in her tone, as if rejection was never an option.

Song Chengfeng, taken by surprise, turned to meet her gaze. A storm of unspoken emotions flickered in his eyes—confusion, frustration, perhaps something deeper—but none of it could be easily read.

He himself struggled to grasp what he was feeling, while Qi Jianyi remained indifferent, uninterested in the inner workings of others, let alone deciphering them.

He Zeqing interjected swiftly, unwilling to let Song Chengfeng be alone with her. "Why are you asking him? I can take you home."

There was no mistaking the edge in his voice. He wasn’t about to let his cousin be driven home by someone who, he now suspected, might harbor feelings for her.

Song Chengfeng’s response was immediate and sharp, as he shot a glare at He Zeqing. "Why bother? I picked her up, so it’s only right that I take her back."

In that moment, Song Chengfeng had never found He Zeqing more insufferable. This so-called ’cold and distant’ friend of his suddenly seemed overly protective, nosing into matters that didn’t concern him. Since when had He Zeqing cared so much about Qi Jianyi? The two of them had never been particularly close, yet here he was, acting as if he had a say in her life decisions.

He Zeqing wasn’t backing down. His voice was firm as he addressed Qi Jianyi. "Well, who’s it going to be? Do you want me to take you home, or do you trust this scoundrel?" He jabbed a finger in Song Chengfeng’s direction, his tone laced with irritation.

Qi Jianyi watched the verbal tug-of-war between the two with a faint smile of amusement. To her, the entire situation was absurd. All this fuss—over a ride home? She couldn’t understand the reason behind their escalating tension.

With a casual shrug, she dismissed the matter entirely. "I don’t know. Either of you can take me, so decide between yourselves."

And just like that, she left the decision to them. As far as Qi Jianyi was concerned, it wasn’t worth her time to get involved in their squabble. She certainly hadn’t expected to become the object of such a trivial dispute. Who knew she was so sought after that people would argue just for the chance to drive her home?

In the end, Song Chengfeng emerged victorious, though not without a little luck. Had it not been for the urgent call from He Zeqing’s assistant, the verbal sparring would likely have raged on indefinitely. But, for today, Song Chengfeng had won.

"Let’s go," he said coolly, stepping aside to let Qi Jianyi pass. He didn’t bother sparing even a glance at the fuming He Zeqing. Let him be mad. Who cared? Today’s victory was his, and that was all that mattered.

Qi Jianyi picked up her handbag and nodded toward He Zeqing with a calm, almost dismissive smile. "Cousin, I’ll see you next time," she said, her voice smooth as she slipped past him before he could muster a response. It was clear she wasn’t giving him any more room to argue.

He Zeqing, still simmering, couldn’t resist one last warning. "Take her straight back to her dorm. Don’t go wandering around." His tone was sharp, laced with brotherly protectiveness, though it was clear the battle had been lost.

Song Chengfeng shot him a brief, disinterested look. "What am I, your little brother?" His reply was nonchalant, the words barely concealing his irritation. Without waiting for more of He Zeqing’s nagging, he followed in Qi Jianyi’s footsteps, his mind already set. The day was his win, and he wasn’t about to let his friend’s overprotective warnings spoil it.

He Zeqing glared at his hurriedly approaching assistant, irritation growing with every step the man took. The sight of his employee only deepened his frustration, as if the entire situation were somehow his fault. For the first time in a long while, He Zeqing regretted being the president of a company.

It wasn’t about losing—He Zeqing didn’t care much for petty rivalries, but losing to Song Chengfeng of all people grated on his nerves. That was something he could not stand. The memory of the subtle smugness that had flickered across Song Chengfeng’s face earlier only fueled his foul mood. His jaw clenched at the thought.

Unfortunately, his assistant, oblivious to the brewing storm, approached with the latest update. He Zeqing barely listened, too consumed by his simmering anger. The injustice of it all weighed heavily on him, and though he kept his temper in check for now, it wouldn’t take much to make him snap.

The staff knew this well. They had learned to read the air around their boss, and today it was thick with tension. His employees walked on eggshells, afraid that a single misstep might result in them becoming the unfortunate target of his suppressed anger.

The solemn atmosphere in the office was almost suffocating, everyone doing their best to stay out of He Zeqing’s line of sight.

It was clear that until He Zeqing found a way to calm the storm raging inside him, no one in the company would be safe from his wrath.

...

"Thank you," Qi Jianyi softly said as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

The air between them felt dense, too heavy for such a small space. There was only one thing on her mind now: getting out as soon as possible. The entire journey had been a long stretch of awkward silence, the kind that made her painfully aware of every breath she took.

It was as if the closeness she and Song Chengfeng had shared before had evaporated into thin air, leaving behind a hollow void.

In the driver’s seat, Song Chengfeng turned his head slightly, his usual expressionless mask betraying a glimmer of something—was it confusion? Uncertainty? She couldn’t tell. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but he only nodded in response to her words, as if that small gesture could break the growing tension between them.

Qi Jianyi gripped the handle of her handbag, ready to make her escape. The cool night air awaited her just beyond the door, promising relief from this stifling discomfort. But before she could step out, Song Chengfeng’s voice—rough and low broke the silence.

"You... you really won’t consider me?"

His question was subtle, almost hesitant, as though he feared the weight of his own words.

Her hand froze on the door handle. For a moment, she couldn’t move. Slowly, she turned to face him, her eyes searching his expression for answers she wasn’t sure she wanted to find. His face, still unreadable, held a quiet intensity that unsettled her.

Why? Why would he ask that question?

"Should I answer it?" she asked, her voice steady but her heart uncertain. She raised an eyebrow, trying to deflect, hoping he would let the matter drop. But deep down, she knew the conversation was far from over.

"You don’t want to?" Song Chengfeng responded, his voice even, but something in his gaze had shifted.

It was as though he was holding onto something fragile, something he didn’t want to break. His face, though calm, seemed to be waiting—hoping, perhaps for an answer that could change everything.

Qi Jianyi let out a small, hollow laugh. Shaking her head, she curled her lips into a faint smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "If I answer that question... something is bound to happen." Her voice dropped, as if speaking any louder would make the situation all too real. "Song Chengfeng, you’re confused right now."

His eyebrows furrowed, a small crease forming on his forehead. He pondered her words for a moment, then met her gaze with renewed conviction. "What makes you think I’m confused right now?" His voice was firm, challenging. There was no hesitation anymore.

She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off. "Rather than me being confused, I think it’s you who wants to make me believe that I am." His words were sharp, his tone confident, as if he had figured her out—or so he thought.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Qi Jianyi could feel her heartbeat in her throat. His gaze bore into her, as if daring her to say something, to deny him, or maybe even to accept whatever had been hanging between them for so long.

But the question that lingered wasn’t whether she should answer him—it was whether she was ready to face whatever truth might come from doing so.