AADWFL Chapter 26
by Suxxi“Y–Yu… President Yu?!”
An Ning prided himself on being good at handling unexpected situations.
But this—this, he had never seen coming.
It happened too suddenly, too absurdly.
A thousand words fought to rush out, but not a single one made it past his lips.
So, panicked, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind—
and as always, the first thing said in panic was the most ridiculous one.
“President Yu, what are you doing here?”
The moment the words left his mouth, An Ning knew he’d misspoken. He quickly corrected himself, flustered.
“No, I mean—why are you in the car, sir… with the lights off?”
That was… marginally better. At least a little more logical.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself—completely unaware that the flicker of panic in his eyes had been caught, clearly and completely, by the man sitting beside him.
Yu Xiuming felt a sharp, sudden sting in his chest.
He’d always been quick-minded—even back in school. So, even in this moment, he could multitask: one part of his mind registering the situation before him, the other recalling what Jing Yan had once told him—
that when you’re around someone you like, you sometimes feel a little stab in your chest, a strange, tingling ache.
At the time, he’d dismissed it as sentimental nonsense.
But he hadn’t expected that one day it would actually come true.
“I’m sitting here alone,” Yu Xiuming said, his tone low, weighted with what sounded like dissatisfaction. “There’s no need to turn on the light.”
“H–how long have you been here?” An Ning asked, voice trembling, finally managing a question that sounded somewhat reasonable.
He was Yu Xiuming’s assistant. His only task today was to pick up and drop off his boss at the event. It was supposed to be foolproof—no room for mistakes.
Yet what happened?
He’d gone off on a little stroll earlier and delayed preparations—barely managing to make up for lost time.
And now, he’d done it again—wandering off, leaving his boss waiting in the car after the event had ended, who knows for how long.
A sin.
A professional crime.
Would he lose his job?
Or—at the very least—get his salary or bonus docked?
The thought made his heart sink. His half-formed dream of buying a house flashed before his eyes, and the fear in them became almost tangible.
“About half an hour,” Yu Xiuming said after glancing at the watch on his left wrist, then corrected himself, “Forty minutes.”
An Ning gave up on saving face and went straight for self-preservation, practically sliding into a kneeling apology.
“President Yu, I’m so sorry! I just went out for a bit—I thought you’d still be a while, so I didn’t rush back. I’m really sorry, I promise next time—”
And then it hit him—
he’d already said “next time” earlier that afternoon, when he’d been late before.
The boomerang of shame had returned, full force, stabbing him right in the chest.
But he couldn’t stop halfway now.
“Next time, it definitely won’t happen again, I promise! I’m so sorry, President Yu. I’ll reflect on this—if you want, you can deduct this month’s bonus—”
“It’s fine.”
Yu Xiuming shook his head, voice calm—so calm that it only made An Ning more nervous.
“Sit down. No rush. I was just waiting for you for a while. If I had something urgent, I would’ve called.”
An Ning sat down obediently, like a puppet whose strings had been tugged.
When he closed the car door, he finally noticed that the air inside was clean—refreshing, even.
No trace of alcohol.
So Yu Xiuming hadn’t drunk much at the event.
In fact, he’d left early.
That wasn’t right. Unless—
things hadn’t gone the way An Ning had imagined.
Or maybe—
He glanced around the car, carefully scanning every corner.
No one else.
No faint trace of a woman’s perfume or cosmetics.
Yu Xiuming hadn’t brought Yi Mingwei back with him.
“What are you looking at?” Yu Xiuming finally asked, noticing the way An Ning kept peering into the backseat, his brow furrowing.
“What are you searching for?”
“I was just—uh—” An Ning’s voice seemed to gain sentience of its own, sprinting ahead of his brain. “President Yu, didn’t you… chat a bit more with Miss Yi?”
The moment he said it, he regretted it.
Not only irrelevant, but nosy.
Too nosy.
Today really was a disaster. He wanted to bite his tongue clean off.
“No.”
Yu Xiuming seemed to catch on to what An Ning was thinking, and his voice softened slightly.
“What did you think?”
“I—I didn’t think anything,” An Ning said, forcing a weak smile.
“It’s just that Miss Xu asked me earlier, and I thought if she asks again later, I should know how to answer.”
Yu Xiuming seemed to realize something.
“Yi Mingwei? Yes, she came by today. We might meet a few more times in the future. If Xu Jianan calls to ask about it, just tell her I met Yi Mingwei. As for the details, just say you’re not sure.”
The brief calm that had settled over An Ning’s heart wavered again.
He made a curious little “hmm?”
“It’s all fake,” Yu Xiuming suddenly said, the words abrupt and heavy. Then he exhaled deeply, as though unloading a burden he’d carried too long.
“In a few days, she—or her assistant—will contact you. You’ll draft a contract. It’s about our transaction.”
“The specifics—we’ve only reached a preliminary understanding today. Many details will involve the company, and I’ll have to brief you on them. You’re one of the group’s senior executives, after all. I’ll explain everything when we get back.”
The tone in his voice shifted instantly—from casual to professional, from personal to the strict, businesslike air of the office.
An Ning blinked, momentarily disoriented. The faint tension that had lingered in the air dissolved.
Just as he was regaining his balance, Yu Xiuming abruptly changed the subject.
“An Ning, where did you go today?”
The question came out of nowhere, with a tone that sounded almost—hurt.
So faintly that An Ning thought he must have imagined it.
“I went to the Lunzhuo Museum this afternoon,” he answered honestly. His mind was still buffering from the word transaction, operating on autopilot.
“I grabbed a bite to eat afterward, then rested for a bit at a convenience store before coming back. I thought you were still at the event, so I ended up being late.”
When An Ning mentioned being late, guilt struck him all over again. He quickly apologized once more.
“It won’t happen again. And sir—apart from matters that concern you, I really have nothing more important to do. If you ever step out, you can call me anytime. As soon as I get your call, I’ll rush over immediately.”
He didn’t expect Yu Xiuming to suddenly pull something out from beside him—a food box, one of those custom-made ones used at the elite Linjiang Club where he’d attended the banquet that night.
Yu spoke slowly, his tone calm, though the tail end of his voice carried something faint—almost like… grievance.
“So you’ve eaten already.”
An Ning’s mind went blank in an instant.
“I was actually planning to invite you to join me tonight,” Yu Xiuming said. “I know you usually wait for me in the car, so I had them prepare some food for you.”
Before An Ning could even drown in guilt over not waiting in the parking lot this time, Yu added,
“It’s not leftovers from our table. I asked the staff to have the kitchen make it separately.”
It was freshly made, not leftovers.
A surge of emotion welled up in An Ning’s chest—pure, genuine gratitude that came with a strange ache of being seen.
In his line of work, people like him were often treated as nameless background figures, mere shadows beside the rich and powerful.
Most people in this circle were haughty, eyes perpetually looking downward on those beneath them. For small, invisible figures like him, no one cared.
If he accompanied his boss to a dinner event and ended up going hungry—it was simply part of the job, already paid for in his monthly salary.
Whether or not he ate was his own business: he could go without or find something later. He wasn’t destitute, after all.
But consideration—that was something people in his position rarely received.
He closed his eyes for a moment, quietly thankful that the car lights were off, allowing him to hide the sudden emotion that threatened to show on his face.
Over the years working for Yu Xiuming, there had been many banquets, countless social occasions. And most of the time, Yu had been thoughtful enough to bring him inside so he wouldn’t have to starve. On the rare occasions when he couldn’t, he would send a generous red envelope afterward so An Ning could order a meal at home.
But lately, even those red-envelope meals had become fewer—because Yu Xiuming had developed the habit of bringing food directly from the restaurant instead.
And not just any food—he’d started remembering An Ning’s preferences. He was choosing the meals according to his taste.
An Ning hesitated but eventually accepted the food box Yu handed him.
“Lemon lobster risotto,” Yu said. “I remember once, when we were hosting clients, you ordered this as your main dish. You seemed to like it.” He paused, then added,
“There’s no chili in it. The box is insulated. You only had instant noodles earlier, and you’ve been out all day—you must still be hungry. Eat it slowly when we get back to the hotel.”
The evening rush hour had long passed; traffic was smooth all the way.
Fifty minutes later, the black business car rolled into the underground parking lot of the five-star hotel where Yu Xiuming was staying.
An Ning had assumed that, after such an awkward and uncomfortable series of conversations, the nearly hour-long drive together would feel endless.
But Yu surprised him again. He didn’t ask or say anything more.
Once the car started moving, the exhaustion he’d been holding back finally showed through—an exhaustion that had probably been there all along.
Of course.
Since arriving in Lunzhuo, Yu Xiuming had been busy with company meetings and overtime work. After barely resting for a day, he’d attended the banquet and met up with Jing Yan during the day. He hadn’t had a moment’s peace. No wonder he was tired now.
As An Ning drove, he realized it was the first time Yu Xiuming had chosen to sit in the front passenger seat instead of the back. Yu buckled his seatbelt and then gestured for him to dim the cabin lights.
“I’ll rest for a bit on the way.”
“President Yu,” An Ning said tentatively, “if you want to rest, wouldn’t the back seat be more comfortable?”
He had assumed Yu hadn’t seen him when he got in earlier and had simply taken the front seat by habit. Normally, of course, the boss sat in the back, where the space was larger, the light dimmer, and sleep easier.
“No need,” Yu replied casually. “The front seat is fine.”
An Ning didn’t press further.
But somehow—the Yu Xiuming sitting in the passenger seat felt different from the one sitting in the back.
Closer.
Less imposing.
So by the time they reached the hotel, An Ning was calm again, already able to think clearly about work.
What exactly was this “transaction” between Yu Xiuming and Yi Mingwei—something important enough that even he, as a senior executive, had to be briefed on it?
Could it… be a prenuptial agreement?
Author’s Note:
If Yu Xiuming knew what An Ning was thinking right now—
he’d probably be startled, maybe even jump up in panic, completely flustered about how to explain himself.
And after explaining… he’d still try to feed him. [kiss kiss]