AADWFL Chapter 6

“Finished the meeting?”

An Ning had just stepped inside and hadn’t even gotten a chance to say a polite opener when Yu Xiuming greeted him with a smile. “Every month on this day, you’re the hardest worker in the company—no contest.”

An Ning chuckled quietly, not denying it.

These regular meetings were a strange mix—important, yet tedious. They were mandatory, but rarely full of anything fresh. So of course, the top executive wouldn’t waste his time attending every single one. Still, someone had to be there to represent him and make decisions. That honor fell squarely on An Ning’s shoulders.

It wasn’t the most mentally taxing job, but when you combined brainwork with hours of talking and attention to detail, it certainly ranked high on the list of exhausting days.

“These are for your review.” An Ning pulled a few documents from his folder. “I’ve also emailed you the rest. There aren’t many, and nothing urgent.”

Yu Xiuming nodded. After An Ning placed the materials neatly on his desk, Yu finally spoke again.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

That line wasn’t new—An Ning had heard it many times over the past month. So he simply stood there, attentive and ready to receive whatever instruction the president had for him.

Yu Xiuming’s gaze flicked between the single sofa nearby and the spot where An Ning stood by the desk. In the end, he decided this wouldn’t take long enough to bother asking the man to sit.

“Your salary,” Yu said evenly, “was last adjusted at the end of the year before last, wasn’t it? It hasn’t changed since?”

Of all the things An Ning had expected, that wasn’t one of them. Still, he quickly replied, “That’s right.” After a brief hesitation, he added, “President Yu—is there a problem with it?”

His salary was generous—well in line with his position and workload, not to mention the intangible perks that came from working directly under Yu Xiuming. An Ning was more than satisfied.

But the way his boss had brought it up—and that thoughtful look in Yu Xiuming’s eyes—seemed to suggest only one possible direction.

It felt like a bubble of something—call it surprise or maybe hope—was slowly inflating in his chest, rising upward, swelling larger with every second.

Until it caught on that unreadable, contemplative expression on his boss’s face… and stopped, lodged right in his throat.

The anticipation swelled in his chest, waiting to be popped.

“I thought about it,” Yu Xiuming said lightly. “It’s about time we gave you a raise.”

The words were airy and casual—but they exploded like fireworks in An Ning’s heart.

“Huh?” He stood there, dumbfounded, wearing the sort of not-so-bright expression one should never show in front of their boss.

It wasn’t as if he’d never had a raise before. On the contrary, Yu Xiuming had always been generous. An Ning was competent, and as a personal assistant, he performed exceptionally well. His current salary was already many times what it had been when he first joined the company.

But salary adjustments had their cycle—by all logic, the next one wouldn’t come until around this time next year, not now.

“I’ve thought about it,” Yu Xiuming went on. “You’ve been working hard. So, no matter what, I think you deserve a bit more. Finance will add it to your pay this month.”

He looked up at An Ning and smiled. “What’s wrong? You’re not about to object, are you?”

“No, no.” An Ning shook his head quickly, then smiled. “Of course not. Thank you, President Yu. Thank you very much.”

Refuse a raise? Impossible.

He didn’t know why his boss suddenly decided to give him one, but he figured that wasn’t something he needed to overanalyze. Best to just accept it graciously.

“Your bonus rate will be adjusted upward too,” Yu Xiuming added, like he was unwrapping a series of gifts for him. “You’re easily one of the hardest-working executives in the company. You deserve more. That includes your salary as my personal assistant—both salary and bonus will be increased together.”

The avalanche of surprises left An Ning almost dizzy.

“President Yu, you…” He hesitated, unsure how to phrase his confusion, his tone awkward and tentative. “I’ve always been satisfied with my pay, and what I do is just part of my job. You really don’t need to—at least not now—”

Yu Xiuming raised a hand, cutting him off with the calm ease of someone entirely in control. “It’s fine. Just take it. It’s not like I’m short on money.”

Following Yu Xiuming’s logic, An Ning couldn’t find a single flaw in that statement.

So… he’d take it.

“Tonight I have an engagement,” Yu Xiuming said, switching topics. “At Sunset Bar. After work, drive me there, then you can head home. Jing Yan will have a driver take me back. Tomorrow, everything’s as usual.”

“Got it,” An Ning replied with a nod.

Jing Yan—Yu Xiuming’s long-time friend and, as far as anyone could tell, his only real one in their social circle. Despite both being wealthy, they couldn’t have been more different: Yu Xiuming had taken over his family business seven or eight years ago, building his empire with his own hands; Jing Yan, meanwhile, was the textbook definition of an idle rich heir.

Every upscale club and bar in Binzhou had Jing Yan’s name somewhere on it.

Sometimes, Yu Xiuming could drop Jing Yan’s name at a bar and get a free round of drinks on the spot.

Through a thousand flowers, yet not a leaf clings to him.

That was the phrase that popped into An Ning’s mind—perfectly fitting for Jing Yan.

He was rich, charming, and a notorious player in elite circles—yet, curiously, he’d never had any scandals. The rumor went that the person he loved had gone abroad years ago, and ever since, Jing Yan had stayed celibate, waiting faithfully for her return.

An Ning couldn’t care less about such stories. After dropping Yu Xiuming off at the bar, he simply drove home.

—

Sunset Bar was one of Jing Yan’s many properties. The ground floor was a stylish bar; the upper floors housed an exclusive club and a luxury hotel, all catering to high-end VIPs.

His friendship with Yu Xiuming had lasted for years—a miracle by anyone’s standards. Even they sometimes found it surprising that they got along so well.

Jing Yan loved to play, while Yu Xiuming was the most proper man he’d ever known.

They’d gone to the same international school as kids, and Yu Xiuming had always been the top student. Later, Jing Yan fell further and further behind. Yu Xiuming went abroad to one of the world’s top universities, graduated from one of its most prestigious programs, and returned home to take the helm of his company—his career soaring ever since. Jing Yan, on the other hand, had barely scraped through a half-decent school overseas, came back, took a nominal job in his family’s business, and spent his days happily burning through money.

That night, Jing Yan waited in his private suite on the top floor—waited so long he almost called.

He paced in irritation, ready to stomp his foot, but in the end, decided to restrain himself. What if his busy friend was in a meeting?

So, instead, he waved a waiter over. “Get me a cocktail—just one. Yeah, my usual.”

“Just one, sir?” The waiter hesitated. “Didn’t you say earlier… that tonight’s special cocktail was meant for Mr. Yu to try?”

Though the bar technically belonged to him, Jing Yan had always been a laid-back “boss.” The staff were used to him being casual, even teasing him sometimes.

“Forget it. He’s late, so he loses his privilege. One drink, for me. Go.”

The waiter nodded and turned to leave—only to bump straight into someone’s chest.

A man in a sleek black suit.

“Mr… Mr. Yu?” the waiter stammered.

Yu Xiuming gave a polite nod. “Jing Yan’s inside?”

“Yes, sir,” the waiter said with a forced smile. “He’s been waiting for you quite a while.”

Yu raised an eyebrow and smiled faintly. “Then I’ll relieve him of his suffering.”

The waiter hurried off, a little dazed—because Yu Xiuming almost never smiled.

He was always calm and courteous, but a genuine smile? The waiter, who had worked there for years, couldn’t recall ever seeing it.

And though Yu was handsome and wealthy, he was known for one thing: no women. No gossip, no official relationships, nothing.

The waiter couldn’t help but wonder—how could a man whose single smile was that captivating, still be single?

“Did I keep you waiting so long that your flowers started to wilt?” Yu Xiuming said as he entered the room, shrugging off his jacket. He raised his arm to hand it over to someone—but midway through the motion, seemed to think better of it. He set it neatly on the coat rack himself.

That little gesture didn’t escape Jing Yan’s sharp eyes.

“Yu Xiuming, have you been spoiled by that little assistant of yours?” he drawled, eyes full of teasing amusement. “What, you’ve forgotten how to take off your own clothes now?”

Yu Xiuming frowned slightly — an uncharacteristic silence in response to his friend’s jibe. He didn’t fire back as usual, simply went over and sat down on his own.

Jing Yan, deprived of his expected reaction, felt like he’d punched a pillow — all force, no satisfaction. “What’s wrong with you today, Yu Xiuming? You’re acting weird.”

“I gave him a raise today,” Yu Xiuming said blandly, folding the napkin neatly before him. “Both salary and bonus — increased quite a bit.”

Jing Yan stared at him. “That’s your grand master plan for keeping him from quitting?”

Yu Xiuming felt that the word keeping was oddly misplaced — it made a perfectly normal decision sound… tainted somehow.
But unfortunately, though he had always outperformed Jing Yan in every intellectual arena since they were kids, in this particular subject, Jing Yan could actually claim seniority.

There was nothing on the table yet — no food, no drinks — so Yu Xiuming’s eyes swept the empty spread before landing back on his friend. “After what you said last time, I thought about it,” he said calmly. “I’m the boss. If I don’t want him to resign, isn’t a raise and better benefits the most effective way?”

Right then, someone knocked on the door.

“Come in, come in,” Jing Yan said eagerly. He watched as the waiter brought in a cocktail and, taking the glass, waved it triumphantly in front of Yu Xiuming. “Our bar’s newest signature mix. You—don’t get any.”

Yu Xiuming didn’t rise to the bait. “Childish,” he said mildly, then turned to the waiter with his usual gentle smile. “Could I have one of those as well?”

Jing Yan, always easygoing, grinned. Even though Yu Xiuming had just commandeered “his” bartender, the calm way he did it made Jing Yan feel oddly defeated — like he’d lost without ever playing.

The waiter had, of course, already anticipated that a second drink would be needed, and quickly went off to fetch it. When the door shut again, Jing Yan leaned forward, his grin fading into curiosity.

“All right,” he said, “start from the top. What exactly happened?”