Chapter 23: Truly Caught a Cold

As the auction concluded and the evening banquet drew to a close, guests began to mingle and bid their farewells.

He Jingyue rose from his seat, and Lu Qiuyi followed suit. A sharp pain surged through her ankle once more, causing her to catch her breath and sway almost imperceptibly. A steady arm reached out instantly, supporting her elbow with firm assurance.

"Can you walk?" He Jingyue asked, his tone devoid of any discernible emotion.

"I can." Lu Qiuyi nodded immediately, bracing herself to show she was fine. Having already embarrassed herself by stumbling in such expensive shoes, she did not want to appear overly delicate.

He Jingyue glanced at her but did not let go. Instead, maintaining his hold, he half-guided and half-supported her through the crowd toward the exit. By the time they reached the banquet hall entrance, the driver was already waiting with the black Rolls-Royce Phantom. He Jingyue opened the door, signaling for Lu Qiuyi to get in first.

As she sank into the comfortable back seat, finally able to rest her tortured feet, she couldn't help but let out a soft, relieved sigh. He Jingyue rounded the car to the other side and instructed the driver, "Take Assistant Lu to her apartment first."

"Yes, Mr. He."

Lu Qiuyi stole a glance at He Jingyue, who sat beside her with his eyes closed, resting. In the dim light, his profile looked even colder and more sharply defined. Why had he spent tens of millions on that necklace?

Suddenly, He Jingyue spoke, his voice unusually low in the quiet cabin, breaking the silence: "Your performance tonight was acceptable."

Lu Qiuyi was taken aback and turned to look at him. "Oh? Thank you, Mr. He." She responded dryly. Though she had felt like a mere prop for most of the night, if the boss said it was acceptable, then it was acceptable.

The corners of He Jingyue’s mouth seemed to curve almost imperceptibly. "However," he added, his voice remaining calm and wave-less, "your bonus will still be deducted."

Lu Qiuyi: ...

Right. She should have known; a capitalist remains a cold-blooded capitalist. He could drop tens of millions on a necklace without batting an eye, yet he remained stingy with her meager bonus.

The car soon pulled up outside her apartment building. "Mr. He, I’ll head up now," she said, stepping out.

"Mm," He Jingyue replied flatly, saying nothing more.

Lu Qiuyi turned away, enduring the discomfort in her ankle as she tried to walk toward the glass doors of the lobby with a normal gait.

Suddenly, He Jingyue’s voice came from behind, calling her full name clearly: "Lu Qiuyi."

She paused, looking back in confusion. The rear window of the Rolls-Royce had been lowered, revealing his sharp-featured face. The roadside lights reflected off his deep eyes and the lenses of his glasses with a cold, fragmented glint, making it impossible to discern his true emotions.

He Jingyue paused for a moment before speaking slowly: "That necklace suits you."

Without waiting for a reaction, the window slid up silently, once again sealing his expression behind the dark glass. The engine let out a low hum, and the black sedan pulled away smoothly, merging into traffic and vanishing from her sight.

Lu Qiuyi remained frozen in place. The evening breeze felt chilly, yet his final words echoed repeatedly in her ears. What did he mean? Was it a purely objective evaluation, or...?

The next morning, Lu Qiuyi woke to a burning, painful throat and waves of dizziness. Her head felt as heavy as lead, and her nose was completely blocked.

"It's over," she moaned, her voice raspy. She didn't need a thermometer to know that standing in the night breeze in a thin dress had taken its toll—she had caught a cold. Struggling to sit up, she looked at her pale face and red-tipped nose in the mirror, feeling like crying.

She arrived at the company in a daze, clocked in, and walked into the general office area. The blast of cold air from the air conditioning made her shiver, followed by a loud sneeze.

"Achoo!"

Fu Yao, who was coming out of the pantry with coffee, was startled. He adjusted his glasses and looked at her. "Oh, Assistant Lu, did you catch a cold?"

Lu Qiuyi waved a hand weakly. "Don't mention it, Teacher Fu. I think the cold winds of capitalism chilled me to the bone last night."

Fu Yao chuckled at her phrasing, shook his head, and walked away. Lu Qiuyi slumped at her workstation, feeling as though every bone in her body was aching. At the next desk, Su Nuo looked up. His cold gaze swept over her red nose and glassy eyes; he frowned slightly, but said nothing, returning his attention to his work.

Just then, the internal phone rang. It was He Jingyue.

Lu Qiuyi jolted, quickly clearing her throat to make her voice sound as normal as possible before answering. "Mr. He?"

"Come in for a moment," He Jingyue’s voice came through the receiver.

"Yes, right away." Lu Qiuyi hung up, forced herself to rally, and headed toward the president's office.

As she pushed open the heavy door, He Jingyue was behind his desk reviewing documents. "Mr. He, you wanted to see me?" She tried her best to stand steady, avoiding any swaying from her dizziness.

He Jingyue looked up, his gaze settling on her face. "Yes," he replied, sliding a document toward her. "Take a look at the preliminary data for this project. We’ll need it for the meeting with the marketing department this afternoon."

"Understood." As she reached out to take it, perhaps standing up too quickly, her vision suddenly blurred and she swayed involuntarily. He Jingyue’s fingers were still resting on the document, and he paused slightly at the sight.

He watched her struggle to steady herself and force her focus, remaining silent for two seconds before asking, "Are you sick?"

Lu Qiuyi’s heart tightened, fearing he would follow up with, "If you're sick, don't pass it to me; go home and rest." She shook her head quickly, forcing a weak smile. "No, no, I just didn't sleep well last night, just a bit tired. Thank you for your concern, Mr. He, I'm fine!"

He Jingyue looked at her smile, which looked more painful than crying, his expression unreadable. He released the document and calmly offered a choice: "Would you like to take some leave?"

Lu Qiuyi’s eyes lit up for a split second. Had the capitalist finally found his conscience? Paid sick leave?!

However, before her smile could fully form, she heard He Jingyue add, in a measured tone, "If you take leave, there will be no attendance bonus, and no project subsidy. Any sick leave beyond half a day will result in a proportional deduction from this month's performance bonus."

Lu Qiuyi: !!!

She knew it! The wretched capitalist! The evil exploiting class!

Unable to suppress the itch in her throat, she turned her head sharply, covering her mouth as she coughed violently, her eyes watering. Once she finally stopped, she said in a nasal, yet unusually firm voice, "Mr. He, I believe I can persevere. It’s just a small cold; it won't affect my dedication to the company at all. Please, I insist you let me stay at my post to shine and contribute!"

She could do this! She would be fine!

He Jingyue said nothing more, merely tilting his chin to indicate she could take the file and leave.

"Yes, Mr. He, I’ll look at it right away." Lu Qiuyi retreated from the office with unsteady steps.

Once the door closed, He Jingyue’s gaze lingered on the panels for a moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically and unconsciously against the smooth desk surface. Then, he picked up the phone and dialed Su Nuo’s extension.

"Notify the administrative department to turn up the temperature in the general office area by two degrees." He paused, then added, "Also, make a cup of ginger tea and send it in."

On the other end, Su Nuo seemed to pause in surprise before replying, "Understood, Mr. He."