Chapter 8: Staying the Night

Every inch of the capital city exuded the scent of money; even as the waning crescent moon hung high, the flow of traffic seemed as though it would never cease.

The black Rolls-Royce Phantom merged into the night, pulling into the Champs-Élysées Gardens. This premier luxury residential district, occupying the most expensive real estate in Yun-Jing, offered a panoramic view of the city’s most dazzling nightscape across Blue Sky Lake.

As Lu Qiuyi parked the car in the underground garage, He Jingyue was already leaning his forehead against the window, his face contorted in pain. She hesitated for three seconds before reaching out to steady his shoulder. "Mr. He, can you walk?"

He Jingyue opened his eyes. The moonlight slanted in through the garage skylight, catching the loose strands of Lu Qiuyi’s hair.

Driven by an inexplicable impulse, he did not push her hand away—perhaps due to the burning pain in his stomach, or perhaps because of the faint, lingering scent of gardenias that clung to her.

"Yes," He Jingyue managed to reply. When his six-foot-three frame slumped against her, Lu Qiuyi nearly collapsed to the floor.

She winced, straining to support him, and stole a glance at his pale profile in the dim light.

Stripped of his boardroom ruthlessness, He Jingyue suddenly looked his true age of twenty-eight.

The digital lock clicked open. As the crystal chandelier flared to life, Lu Qiuyi was stunned by the sight before her: a living room with twenty-foot ceilings, an entire floor-to-ceiling window framing the shimmering city lights, floors of imported Italian cloud-patterned marble that shone like a mirror, and a Monet *Water Lilies* on the wall that she had only ever seen in auction news.

"No taxis within a three-kilometer radius," He Jingyue spoke suddenly, his voice raspy with illness. "The guest room is the second door on the right on the second floor."

Lu Qiuyi was just calculating whether to offer a polite refusal when He Jingyue added, "Unless, of course, Assistant Lu would prefer a midnight hike..."

"The guest room is perfect!" She quickly tossed her bag onto the sofa. "I love sleeping in guest rooms!"

A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched He Jingyue’s lips as he turned to rummage through the medicine cabinet.

Lu Qiuyi took the opportunity to pull out her phone. A message from her father, sent half an hour ago, sat on the screen: *[The list of He Corporation insiders is below; mobilize them if necessary.]* Attached was a list containing the names of the executives purged in today's meeting, along with several entry-level positions she didn't recognize.

"Old fox..." Lu Qiuyi curled her lip and saved the list to an encrypted album. Just as she was about to turn off her phone, another message popped up: *[Tomorrow at 8:00 PM, meet at the Blue Sky Lake Tea House. Bring the progress report on 'Smart-Language.']*

She frowned at the address—it was right across from the Champs-Élysées. Was it a coincidence? Or was her father watching her?

"Do you need pajamas?"

He Jingyue’s voice sounded suddenly behind her, scaring Lu Qiuyi so much she nearly dropped her phone into the fish tank.

When she turned, the man had changed into deep blue loungewear, holding a neatly folded set of women's pajamas.

"Do you keep women's clothing in stock?" The question left her mouth before she could stop it, and she immediately wanted to bite her tongue.

"My sister's," He Jingyue said, placing the pajamas on the sofa. "They're new."

By the time Lu Qiuyi finished her shower, the living room was empty. She crept toward the second floor, and as she passed the master bedroom, she heard intermittent murmuring from inside.

"Stomach bleeding... not serious. Tomorrow, as scheduled."

It was the first time Lu Qiuyi had heard He Jingyue speak with such patience, and she couldn't help but be curious about the person on the other end of the line.

She pressed her ear to the door crack, but suddenly, there was a *click*—the doorknob turned.

Lu Qiuyi moved with lightning speed, stumbling into the guest room. As she slammed the door, she heard He Jingyue’s cold voice: "Keep a close watch on that tea house belonging to the Lu family."

Her heart hammered against her ribs as she threw herself onto the bed, burying her face in the goose-down quilt.

So, the He family had planted spies in the Lu household as well? She pulled out her phone to check the background of the Blue Sky Lake Tea House, only to find a new unread message:

*[Tomorrow at 7:30 AM, wear formal attire. A driver will pick you up for the symposium. —H]*

"A symposium?" Lu Qiuyi bolted upright. "Me?"

She scrambled to find her notes from the day’s meeting. Under "Major Itinerary," she found "AI International Summit." The person originally scheduled to accompany him was Su Nuo, but now, it was her.

Her phone buzzed again. It was a compressed file of meeting materials from Su Nuo, with the note: *[Study hard. Don't embarrass Mr. He.]*

Lu Qiuyi held up her middle finger to the ceiling.

The next morning, when the alarm went off, Lu Qiuyi was dreaming that she was being hunted by a pack of code.

She opened her wardrobe with bedhead, only to find it filled with the season’s haute couture—every fabric and tailored line screaming, "I am expensive."

"Capitalist sugar-coated bullets," she muttered, selecting a navy blue suit dress. When she went downstairs, He Jingyue was sitting at the dining table, impeccably dressed and drinking coffee, as if he weren't the same man who had been sweating from stomach pain the night before.

"Morning." Without looking up, He Jingyue slid a document toward her. "The three questions you need to answer today."

Lu Qiuyi opened it to find a handwritten Q&A in sharp, aggressive strokes:

1. On data privacy → Answer: "Utilizing federated learning technology."
2. On algorithmic bias → Answer: "Establishing a multi-dimensional assessment system."
3. On the Lu Group → Answer: "No comment."

Fortunately, the driver who had disappeared last night was back on duty this morning. Lu Qiuyi sat in the back row with He Jingyue—setting aside the oppressive feeling of being next to the CEO, a luxury car was indeed a luxury car; it was a completely different experience from a Tesla.

Forty minutes later, the Phantom pulled smoothly into the convention center.

Media cameras swarmed the vehicle. Lu Qiuyi was about to step out behind He Jingyue, but a sharp look from him stopped her. "You go to the breakout session."

Just as she turned, she heard a reporter’s sharp question: "Mr. He! Rumor has it that the Lu Group is poaching the core team of 'Smart-Language.' Are you aware of this?"

He Jingyue paused. Lu Qiuyi’s back stiffened. She didn't look back, but she heard that low, resonant voice reply: "The Lu family is indeed very interested in AI..."

Lu Qiuyi hurried toward the breakout hall in her heels, He Jingyue’s cryptic answer stabbing at her back like a thorn.

She gripped the document folder in her hand, which contained the "Smart-Language" project brief she had prepared overnight—essentially a hodgepodge of snippets from official press releases.

The air conditioning in the breakout hall was cranked to the max. As soon as she sat down in the guest area, the host enthusiastically announced: "Next, let us welcome Ms. Lu Qiuyi, the lead on the He Group’s 'Smart-Language' project, to share her insights on the ethical boundaries of generative AI!"

Amidst the applause, Lu Qiuyi nearly slid off her chair.

*What ethical boundaries?*

But with every eye in the hall fixed on her, she had no choice but to bite the bullet and step onto the podium.

"First, thank you all for your interest..." Lu Qiuyi pretended to be calm as she recited the opening remarks.

The teleprompter was scrolling through the answers to the three questions He Jingyue had written down.

A flash of inspiration struck, and she abruptly snapped the folder shut.

"Before we discuss ethics, I would like to ask everyone a question—" She pointed to the last row of the audience. "Sir, you in the blue shirt, do you believe that AI should be restricted from telling dark humor?"