Chapter 41: Public Opinion Crisis

As soon as the afternoon break ended and Lu Qiuyi settled back into her workstation, the manager of the sub-project team called to press for the two expedited documents.

Lu Qiuyi gave a couple of vague, perfunctory replies, pulled those two life-threatening files from the stack, and casually glanced over them. Seeing no major issues with the formatting and being too lazy to review the content in detail, she stood up and walked toward He Jingyue’s office.

Giving the door only a symbolic two-knock rap, she pushed it open directly without waiting for a response from within.

Inside the bright and spotless office, He Jingyue was on the phone. Judging by the context, it appeared to be a call from an important business partner, and his tone carried the calm detachment of pure business.

Instead of standing quietly with her hands by her side as she usually did, Lu Qiuyi walked straight up to the desk and dropped the stack of documents right into the center with a crisp "thud"—loud enough to slightly disrupt the train of thought of whoever was on the other end of the line.

He Jingyue's speaking cadence paused imperceptibly. Without turning his head, he simply raised a hand to signal that he was busy.

Lu Qiuyi curled her lips in indifference, unbothered, and pulled out the chair opposite him to sit down. She took out her phone and began scrolling through it unconcernedly.

A few minutes later, He Jingyue ended the call.

"Mr. He," Lu Qiuyi said, as if only just noticing he had finished, putting down her phone and pushing the document slightly forward. "The R&D department is breathing down our necks. This performance optimization proposal needs your signature as soon as possible."

He Jingyue walked behind his desk, sat down, picked up the file, and scanned the contents with a rapid gaze.

The office was filled only with the faint rustle of turning pages.

Soon, He Jingyue finished reading the document and pulled out a fountain pen. The nib touched the paper, making a scratching sound as he signed his name.

"The afternoon schedule..." Lu Qiuyi picked up her phone, preparing to report by the book, when the personal phone on He Jingyue's desk vibrated abruptly.

The screen lit up, displaying an unsaved number with a quite prominent ending sequence.

He Jingyue glanced at it, his brows furrowing almost imperceptibly, as though he had no desire to answer.

Yet the phone rang persistently, and he finally swiped to accept the call, his tone indifferent: "Hello."

A young female voice immediately came from the other end of the line: "Big Brother Jingyue? I'm not disturbing your work, am I? It's me, Shiyan."

He Jingyue's gaze did not leave the documents on his desk: "Ms. Zhou, is there something you need?"

"Actually, it's nothing major," Zhou Shiyan said with a smile in her voice. "It's just that auntie asked me to check with you—for the desserts at this weekend's family dinner, do you prefer matcha mousse or chocolate lava? She wants to let the kitchen prepare in advance."

This question was asked with such an intimate and natural familiarity, as though she were already a regular guest at the house.

He Jingyue tapped his fingertips lightly against the desktop and coldly interrupted her: "No need to bother. Tell my mother I have a multinational meeting this weekend and won't be able to make it back."

The person on the other end seemed entirely unprepared for such a direct rejection. There was a pause of several seconds before a somewhat forced reply came through: "Ah... is that so? Well, all right then, I'll let auntie know..."

Without waiting for her to continue, He Jingyue ended the call and placed his phone face down on the desk.

"Continue," he signaled.

Lu Qiuyi said with a sarcastic edge, "Ms. Zhou is truly considerate, even asking personally about trivial matters like dessert flavors."

"It seems Mr. He's happy event is indeed drawing near? A match made in heaven between families of equal social standing. Unlike me, clumsy and inept, unable even to brew a cup of coffee properly, with no apparent use other than causing Mr. He trouble."

He Jingyue's brows furrowed completely.

"Lu Qiuyi," he spoke, his voice sinking, "have you made enough of a scene?"

Her abnormal behavior all day did not mean he was completely oblivious.

"How would I dare make a scene with you, Mr. He?" Lu Qiuyi's tone was rigid. "I've just suddenly seen the light."

"I am simply a dull person who can't grasp those complex codes and algorithms, let alone manage to be as thoughtful and attentive as Ms. Zhou. Staying by Mr. He's side, aside from making you angry all day and holding back projects, really seems to serve no purpose at all."

The faster Lu Qiuyi spoke, the more her chest heaved. She poured out everything she had been wanting to say in one breath: "Mr. He, I'm resigning!"

When her voice died away, the office plunged into a dead silence.

He Jingyue looked at her, a layer of frost coating his face, the knuckles of his hand resting on the desk tightening slightly.

Just as he was about to speak, the office door was knocked on urgently. Without waiting for a reply, Su Nuo pushed his way in with a grave expression, abandoning all usual etiquette.

"Mr. He!" Su Nuo's voice carried an unusual urgency and tension. "Something has happened! In the top-floor conference room, the heads of the technical and public relations departments are waiting for you—it's an emergency meeting!"

The words He Jingyue had on the tip of his tongue were forced back down. He gave Lu Qiuyi a deep look: "Your issue can wait."

Dropping those words, he strode out of the office in Su Nuo's wake.

The heavy door closed behind him, leaving Lu Qiuyi standing alone in place.

Facing the empty office, the momentary sense of catharsis Lu Qiuyi had just felt gradually faded, replaced by a hollow, bewildered numbness.

That look he gave her just now... what was it supposed to mean?

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the top-floor conference room had dropped to freezing point.

The moment He Jingyue stepped inside, the gazes of all the executives converged on him, every single face laden with gravity.

"Mr. He," Xie Mingxiao said with an ashen complexion, pushing a tablet computer directly in front of him. "Take a look at this. Zhang Zhiwei, the core algorithm engineer of our 'Wisdom Language' project team, jumped off the terrace of the second park half an hour ago!"

He Jingyue's pupils contracted violently.

Xie Mingxiao's voice was heavy and hurried: "He's already been taken away by an ambulance, and his condition is looking very grim. But the bigger trouble is this!"

He pointed to a trending internal forum post open on the tablet.

The title of the post was written in bold, bright red characters: "Lu Qiuyi, Executive Assistant to the President of He's Corporation, Maliciously Suppressed and Plagiarized Achievements, Driving Me to a Dead End! — The Final Statement of a Dying Man."

The author of the post was Zhang Zhiwei.

The content of the post was extremely detailed and filled with bitter indignation, broadly claiming that:

Lu Qiuyi understood nothing about technology, yet she used her position to misappropriate the core algorithmic concepts he had painstakingly developed, packaging them as her own suggestions to report to Mr. He in order to claim credit, while completely erasing him, the actual contributor.

Using her status as the president's executive assistant, she had left him with nowhere to seek justice. All his efforts and painstaking work had been stolen and invalidated, leaving him in deep despair. He had chosen death alone to prove his innocence, hoping to use his life to force the company to take notice of such a "cancer" as Lu Qiuyi.

The comment section beneath the post had already exploded, with replies multiplying at a dizzying pace. Voices of shock, anger, skepticism, and demands for a thorough investigation echoed endlessly. Public opinion was fermenting at a terrifying speed.