You are a president, yet you possess none of the poise befitting your position—truly a surprising disappointment.

“Ah, why are you here?” Little Seven shoved him away and jumped off the bed.

Yi Chen’s eyes flickered. “Because you are here.”

“…”

“You, I—” Little Seven stammered, then suddenly remembered, “Right, where’s Yi Yang?”

He’d gotten drunk last night and even tore off her skin suit.

Yes, my skin suit.

Little Seven turned to leave, but her nape was caught.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

Damn it, here he goes again.

“What happened to you last night? Why were you cold all over?”

“I—I…,” Little Seven scrambled to think, “I caught a chill and got sick, so my whole body was cold. Anyway, I’m hungry now, I’ll go have breakfast.”

But her nape remained firmly held.

Just as she was about to flare up, a sudden thought struck her.

Wait, that can’t be right. Last night she was clinging to him, and her body was colder than the Arctic, but he held her and nothing happened to him?

Why, why is that?

“What are you thinking about?”

“Huh? Nothing,” Little Seven twisted her neck, “Let go already. Do you have some weird habit? Why do you keep grabbing my nape?”

Yi Chen released her hand, seeing how lively she was, she must be fine now.

“Aren’t you going to eat? Let’s go.”

“Oh!”

Breakfast was served at the restaurant. Yi Chen watched the person opposite him eat with relish, a faint smile curling his lips.

Actually, the old Xi Yang wasn’t much different from now—sometimes she’d try to please him, sometimes she’d act coy, sometimes she’d throw a little tantrum.

Someone once said that girlfriends who throw tantrums are exhausting.

But he enjoyed her little fits.

The first meeting after five years, he saw unease in her eyes.

He’d thought that with her amnesia, she would forever be afraid of him.

He even wondered how he could nurture her old quirks back.

Hmm, now he just needed to feed her until she was sturdy.

“Why are you staring at me?” Little Seven puffed her cheeks. “Steamed buns aren’t tasty when they get cold.”

“Lin the Scoundrel?” he suddenly said.

Little Seven’s heart skipped.

He must’ve seen her phone contacts.

She hurried to cover it up, “Uh, maybe it was a typo.”

He raised an eyebrow.

Her mind raced, but she couldn’t think of a way out, so she tried to change the subject, “By the way, where’s Yi Yang?”

Yi Chen said nothing, only gazed at her intently.

Damn, his look made her feel like bursting into flames.

“Enough,” Little Seven put down her chopsticks and stood up. “I’m full. President Lin, you’re busy, hurry and get to work. I still have deliveries to make!”

Her arm was pulled back.

Her first reaction: Thank goodness, at least he didn’t grab her nape.

“Xi Yang, you accompanied me for four years,” his voice was filled with resolve and an indescribable weariness. “I surrendered to the warmth of reality, so I’ll accompany you for the rest of my life.”

Little Seven froze, then realized—it was his promise.

Do earthlings always love making promises?

She couldn’t bear them.

Little Seven smiled. “You can eat recklessly, but you can’t talk recklessly, okay? Alright, hurry up and get to work. See you!”

With that, she ran into the room.

Watching her flee, Yi Chen’s deep eyes were unreadable.

His phone rang. He answered, and Fang Li said, “President Lin, Miss Qiao has arrived at the company.”

...

The visitor saw the tall, upright man approaching and immediately stood, nodding to Yi Chen with elegant manners.

“President Lin, may I borrow ten minutes of your time?”

Yi Chen nodded calmly.

Joanna entered, giving a slight bow, her manners refined and poised.

Yi Chen glanced at her, curious—she seemed somewhat different from her first visit.

For a moment, neither spoke, and the office fell into a peculiar silence.

At last, Joanna opened her mouth first: “President Lin, do you remember me?”

“Of course,” Yi Chen replied blandly. “Miss Joanna.”

His tone was mild, not cold, and Joanna’s expression relaxed even more. “President Lin, actually, I’m here today to discuss our last matchmaking.”

Yi Chen’s lips curled slightly, but he said nothing.

Joanna felt a bit awkward, but her beautiful face maintained a polite smile. “If President Lin doesn’t speak, does that mean you acknowledge our first meeting?”

“Is Miss Qiao writing her own script?”

Joanna’s expression remained composed as she smiled. “Yi Chen, you can call me Anna.”

“Miss Qiao,” Yi Chen said clearly, “just state your purpose. No need to be overly cautious.”

Anna felt a crack, but still smiled at this sharp-eyed man. “Our fathers are old friends, and we’re a perfect match. If we marry, others would envy us.”

Yi Chen’s face was expressionless. “I don’t need that, so why bother?”

She was rejected outright, and Anna frowned slightly.

“You don’t like me at all?”

“Not at all.”

“…”

A cold silence settled.

After a while, Anna spoke again. “President Lin, I’ll be honest. I liked you from the first time I met you. I’m well-educated, my family’s well-off. If we go out together, everyone would envy us.”

Yi Chen remained unmoved by her words.

“Your ten minutes are up, Miss Qiao.”

“Oh, sorry,” Anna apologized, though her eyes betrayed no remorse. She hesitated a moment. “Is President Lin so cold because you lacked maternal love as a child?”

A wave of weariness suddenly swept over Yi Chen.

She was probing because they weren’t getting along.

He was thoroughly annoyed by these endless roundabout games.

“Miss Qiao,” his tone was calm, but his words were icy. “Your uninvited arrival is quite off-putting.”

With these words, Anna’s smiling mask slipped. She stood abruptly, her voice harsh but her confidence lacking. “President Lin, don’t you think that was very uncultured?”

“Whether one is cultured depends on the person,” Yi Chen replied coldly. “Miss Qiao, I have work to do. Please see yourself out.”

Anna’s face was livid with anger. As a heiress, she’d never been treated like this.

She retorted without restraint, “You’re a CEO, but so lacking in CEO demeanor. Truly disappointing.”

“Your words mean nothing to me.”

Anna was silenced, stunned for a moment before asking, “Do you really not like me at all?”

There was no answer for a long time.

But the atmosphere he projected was clearly one of dismissal.

Still unwilling to leave empty-handed, she pressed, “So you really—”

“Miss Qiao,” Yi Chen’s handsome face was calm, but his words brooked no argument. “I don’t like repeating myself.”

Anna, proud as ever, had already reached her limit by bowing her head this far, and left with a cold snort.

Yi Chen rose and opened the window. Fresh air swept in at once. Looking out from the eighth-floor window, the sky was high and the clouds light, the view vast.

Bathed in a pale golden sunlight, Yi Chen’s whole figure seemed desolate.

After his mother died, his father became cold and distant, hardly ever guiding or accompanying him.

He could understand his father’s coldness, for his mother was…

But within a year of his mother’s absence, his father remarried.

He remembered clearly that his father loved his mother deeply.

If he loved her so much, why marry another woman so soon?

Was it simply to stave off loneliness?