Chapter 69: Chapter 69: You and Him Will Not Have Work Contacts Chapter 69: Chapter 69: You and Him Will Not Have Work Contacts Li Qiao curved her lips slightly, “I have many sets of professional attire at home, just never had the chance to wear them.”
“How long do you want to intern for?” The man’s crisp fragrance lingered around Li Qiao, and her fair cheeks became even more delicate and petite in his palm.
Li Qiao gathered her thoughts and gave an answer, “Three months, I need to report to the research institute in September.”
Shang Yu gazed deeply at Li Qiao, then his palm turned over, gently pinching her cheek, “Alright, then as you wish.”
It was those same four words again, ‘as you wish’.
Li Qiao’s heartbeat finally lost its rhythm.
When she wanted to call off the engagement, he said as you wish.
Now she wanted to come to Yan Emperor, and he still said as you wish.
Some obscure emotions began fermenting; it seemed it wasn’t a one-person show after all.
After a brief interlude, Shang Yu returned to his desk and sat down.
Li Qiao, covered with his suit jacket, nestled on the couch with a calm expression, feeling the fluster of the little deer crashing around in her heart.
The two were alone in the room, quietly experiencing their own thoughts.
The warmth and scent of the suit jacket carried his unique crisp fragrance and the smell of tobacco.
Li Qiao gently pulled up the collar, covering half of her face, leaving only her beautifully arched doe eyes visible as she sneakily peeked at the man busying himself with work.
Seconds later, mustering some bravery, Li Qiao toyed with the jacket’s cufflinks and teased lightly, “Master Yan, is the pen broken?”
She had good hearing, and her vision was also sharp.
The crisp snap from before was definitely the sound of a pen nib breaking.
At that moment, Shang Yu did not reply, but raised his well-proportioned fingers to press the intercom button and commanded coldly, “The Parma AI collaboration project, have Zhui Feng go there immediately.”
The voice from the intercom sounded familiar, it seemed to be Liuyun.
Hearing Shang Yu arrange this, Li Qiao’s hidden upward curve of her lips continued to rise, “Master Yan, doesn’t this count as Zhui Feng being shot while lying down?”
At the sound, the man raised his hand to adjust his shirt cuffs, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye like a warning and a joke, “If you don’t want him to be ‘shot’ again, stay away from him in the future.”
Clutching his suit, Li Qiao sniffed lightly and continued to probe, “What about work interactions?”
Then, Shang Yu smirked with a wicked and crazed charm, “You and him, won’t have any work interactions.”
Approaching noon, Liuyun knocked on the door and delivered two work meals.
In the bright and quiet office, the man sat at his large desk working, while the girl nestled on the sofa playing with her phone.
Liuyun, without looking elsewhere, set the work meals on the coffee table, was about to leave, then heard a low inquiry, “Has he left?”
“Yes, boss, he’s already at the airport.” Liuyun nodded, silently lighting a row of candles in his heart for Zhui Feng.
And so, without knowing why, Zhui Feng was sent directly to Parma for three months.
An hour later, the baffled Zhui Feng sat in Yan Emperor’s business jet, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening?!
The AI collaboration project was originally said to be handled by Luoyu, so why was it suddenly given to him?
Wang Yue and Liuyun hadn’t told him the reason, just cursed him out abruptly followed by mysterious sympathy.
On the plane, Zhui Feng stroked his chin, contemplating life, when he suddenly remembered something Wang Yue had said: Are you digging your own grave, or do you want to die?
He just couldn’t figure out what ground he had tread on.
Zhui Feng, legs crossed, shook his foot, took a swig of beer—probably the alcohol kicking in, he had a flash of insight, recalling a scene in the elevator.
Could it be that the boss intended that chick to go, not Wang Yue and Liuyun?
That chick belongs to the boss?