AADWFL Chapter 32

After putting down the book, Yu Xiuming knew Jing Yan wouldn’t say anything meaningful next, so he set his phone aside and walked out of the study.

Though they lived in the same building, it suddenly struck him that he had no idea what An Ning usually did on his days off.

Not surprising, really. Their schedules were consumed by work—so even rare rest days were divided into neat chunks of “productive downtime”: resting with eyes closed, working out, catching up on sleep, reading, or watching movies.

And An Ning, who’d been by his side all these years, had never once seemed to question such a monotonous lifestyle. Which was why Yu Xiuming hadn’t realized—he knew absolutely nothing about how An Ning spent his free time.

So, An Ning actually went out on weekends.

A sour, tight ache bloomed in his chest—like someone had squeezed a lemon over his heart. Yu Xiuming quietly walked out of the room and stared at the elevator’s LCD screen, watching the floor numbers flicker upward.

Sensing something, Yu Xiuming lifted his head to glance at the floor indicator—and sure enough, the elevator had stopped on the same floor where An Ning lived.

Each floor only had one unit. If the elevator stopped there, there was no other possibility—it could only mean that the person who had just stepped out was An Ning.

Yu Xiuming felt his heartbeat start to flutter wildly, like a startled deer. Without thinking, he shut his own apartment door, pressed the elevator button, and headed toward An Ning’s floor.

The elevator was empty; whoever had ridden it earlier was already gone. Smooth and uninterrupted, Yu Xiuming arrived quickly at his destination.

With a soft ding—, the elevator doors slid open. Yu Xiuming stepped out.

He hadn’t been to this floor more than a few times—just back when the apartment was first handed over, and then later when the renovations and furnishings were completed. After that, he’d only come twice more—once to inspect, once to gift the apartment to An Ning. Since then, never again.

Still, since every floor was designed identically, the surroundings were familiar enough.

No one was in the hallway; An Ning had clearly already gone inside.

Well, of course—who would linger in a stairwell?

By the time Yu Xiuming realized what he was doing, he was already standing right in front of An Ning’s door.

The door had the same smart lock model as his own apartment downstairs. If he remembered correctly, when it was first installed, An Ning hadn’t even joined the company yet—so Yu Xiuming’s fingerprint was registered in the system. Later, when An Ning moved in, no one had ever mentioned removing it.

He had simply… never thought about it again.

And now, they were so close—separated only by this single door. All he had to do was lift his hand, and he could open it effortlessly.

An Ning had never really guarded himself against him, had he?

What was An Ning doing right now, just after coming home? The thought flashed through Yu Xiuming’s mind, tender and dangerous. Warmth pooled quietly in his chest—until it startled him back to his senses.

He stepped back. Then, abruptly, he turned on his heel, strode back into the elevator, jabbed the close-door button, and pressed for his own floor.

He went home.

The next day was Monday. Early in the morning, Yu Xiuming, in an unusual move, sent An Ning a message:

[Don’t come up. Just wait in the car downstairs, at the usual place.]

At the office, everything proceeded as usual. But during lunch, Yu Xiuming was visibly busy. When An Ning brought his meal, Yu Xiuming didn’t even take off his glasses—just nodded slightly, signaling that he was in the middle of something.

An Ning, perceptive as always, quietly set the tray down and left without a word.

That afternoon, An Ning had a meeting—so the two wouldn’t see each other for most of the day.

Yu Xiuming glanced at the tea on his desk, now gone cold. He poured himself a new pot, refilled the cup, and exhaled a soft sigh.

The weather was getting colder. The fourth quarter had begun, edging steadily toward the end of the year.

Every company was entering its busiest season. Mental exhaustion aside, even physical stamina was being tested.

Lately, An Ning had even given up his little habit of eating cake whenever he got stressed. After all, he had a Chinese stomach—hot meals and steaming rice were far more satisfying than sweets could ever be.

After his meeting ended—just before five—there was still time to return to his office before dinner and the official end of the workday.

The meeting room was on the 23rd floor. Feeling that he hadn’t moved much all day—and too lazy to be as disciplined as his boss, who used his breaks to hit the gym—An Ning decided to skip the elevator and take the stairs up four floors to his office on the 27th.

A few colleagues who’d also attended the meeting saw “Director An” choosing the stairs, and, not wanting to seem lazy, followed suit. Their offices were on the 24th to 26th floors—so their climb would be even shorter than his.

Some people just wanted a bit of exercise, so they decided to take the stairs. Others, upon seeing their leaders doing the same, followed along. An Ning found it both funny and exasperating, but he couldn’t very well tell them to take the elevator. So, he walked and chatted with them, enjoying the lively atmosphere.

Coincidentally, a set of data mentioned in the meeting came up, giving him the perfect chance to talk it over with one of the technical leads.

“Don’t worry, Director An,” the young man said earnestly. “Our team will work overtime if needed. We’ll get it done within the deadline.”

An Ning nodded, taking in the sight of the enthusiastic young man who had graduated just over a year ago. Still, he reminded him, “Xiao Gao, everyone knows your team is capable, and I trust you’ll do well. As for the overtime—since I’m part of the management, I won’t say anything empty about it. You’ll get all your overtime pay and bonuses, but don’t overdo it. Your health comes first. If there’s any difficulty, report it directly to me. I’ll consider assigning more manpower.”

Before he transmigrated into this novel, An Ning had heard of computer science graduates who worked themselves to death after joining tech companies.

Although he hadn’t heard of such cases here, he knew about the intensity of the workload in his own company’s tech department—so he couldn’t help saying a few extra words.

“No problem, thank you, Director An.” The young man’s eyes lit up.

By the time they reached the twenty-fifth floor, An Ning nodded and said goodbye before climbing the last two floors alone.

When he finally got back to his office, he sat down, drank some water, and rested for five minutes. Then he figured it was about time to visit Yu Xiuming’s office—

The water needed changing, and it was time to brew a fresh pot of tea. He also needed to check if his boss wanted something to eat. Most of the time, Yu Xiuming didn’t, but asking was part of the routine. He’d also need to confirm if there were any impromptu dinners that evening, and give a brief report about the meeting.

He walked in smoothly after knocking, saying nothing at first, and went straight to the electric kettle. To his surprise, the kettle had already been refilled and boiled. He lifted it and found that Yu Xiuming’s teacup had also been topped off.

Instinctively, he blurted out an apology. “Sorry, Mr. Yu, the meeting ran a bit long today.”

The meeting ran long—so he hadn’t made it here in time to pour water for him.

Usually, if there wasn’t a meeting occupying his afternoon, An Ning would stop by Yu Xiuming’s office once.

He didn’t even realize how illogical that sounded—why would a company executive be worrying about whether the president had his afternoon tea on time?

But that was just how he’d always treated Yu Xiuming all these years.

Yu Xiuming, however, suddenly became aware of it—and felt a pang of guilt.

“It’s fine. You’ve been busy too,” Yu Xiuming said, taking off his glasses and gesturing for An Ning not to fuss. “Tired?”

It was just a kind inquiry; no real answer was expected. An Ning smiled. “The fourth quarter’s always like this… it’s fine, I can handle it.”

He could tell there weren’t going to be any social events tonight. Following Yu Xiuming’s signal, he pulled up a chair across the desk and gave a short summary of the meeting.

“Good,” Yu Xiuming said after listening, without giving any special instructions. “There are a lot of things going on—if something really gets overwhelming or too complicated, come to me directly.”

Taking charge of such a massive conglomerate wasn’t the hardest part for Yu Xiuming—the real challenge lay in navigating the turbulent undercurrents of power within the Yu family that controlled the Yusheng Group.

Especially since Yu Linshan had a number of troublesome illegitimate sons lurking in the wings, turning Yu Xiuming’s corporate struggle into a full-blown palace drama—a bloody one at that.

An Ning sighed inwardly. This novel really was drenched in every drop of cliché-rich, dog-blooded “rich family drama” flavor.

As Yu Xiuming’s most trusted and valued confidant—the only one he relied on—An Ning handled many of the company’s top-secret and high-stakes matters personally. No one else was allowed to touch them.

“No problem. If there’s any difficulty, I’ll report to you right away,” An Ning replied briskly, then remembered something else. “By the way, Mr. Yu, Miss Xu called me today.”

Yu Xiuming raised an eyebrow. “Still about Yi Mingwei?”

An Ning gave a wry smile and nodded. “Miss Xu heard that you’ve been seeing Miss Yi more often recently and thought my persuasion worked—she seemed very pleased.”

God knew how guilty he’d felt when taking that call.

When Xu Jianan eventually learned the truth, she’d probably hate him for stringing her along.

But by then, he should’ve already resigned and left.

“Don’t worry. When she finds out, I’ll tell her you did persuade me—I just wasn’t honest with her,” Yu Xiuming said calmly, as if reading his mind. “And what she’s really worried about isn’t whether I’ll get married—it’s whether the family fortune will end up in someone else’s hands.”

The first half of that sentence warmed An Ning’s chest with quiet relief and unexpected emotion; the second half left him oddly heavy-hearted.

Not for himself—but for Yu Xiuming.

Yu Xiuming remained calm as ever, as if nothing stirred beneath the surface.

“Mr. Yu, maybe… it’s not necessarily like that,” An Ning said after a brief hesitation, choosing his words carefully as he recalled Xu Jianan’s gentle but probing tone on the phone. “I think—besides that—Miss Xu does genuinely care about you.”

He said it sincerely, not as polite consolation.

“I know.” After a moment of silence, Yu Xiuming smiled faintly and smoothly changed the subject. “So, what did you tell her on the phone?”

The fleeting emotion scattered like dust in a breeze.

“I said, as we discussed, that you’ve had dinner with Miss Yi a few times recently, but I don’t know much beyond that.”

Yu Xiuming nodded. “If she keeps asking, stick to what we agreed. Use your judgment.”

“Understood.”

Having said that, An Ning felt a weight lift from his chest, the pressure finally easing.

He couldn’t afford to linger in the feeling and quickly went on, “Also—about Yu Qi joining the company. Mr. Yu seems to be asking about it again, saying he wants him to ‘get some experience’ here.”

“Of course, Miss Yi has already made her position clear.” An Ning recalled the dinner he had arranged three days ago. “The Yi family won’t help him.”

At that, he struggled to phrase things delicately—he really wasn’t used to talking like this.

After living in this world for so long, he finally encountered a scene that reminded him—this was, after all, a cliché rich-family power struggle novel.

The power struggles between the wealthy clans came later than expected, but as Yu Xiuming’s assistant—the designated problem-solver and supporting character in such novels—An Ning was right on the front lines.

Fortunately, with the post–“transmigration into a book” bonus skill for handling crises, An Ning dealt with these machinations with graceful ease and perfect composure.

“You don’t have to worry, sir. Leave it to me.”

“Alright.” Yu Xiuming nodded, smiling faintly. “Oh, right—I almost forgot to tell you. Jing Yan ran into you yesterday afternoon.”

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Author’s note:
Some people nearly rush straight to someone’s home, but on the surface they’re all (calm) (nonchalant) (smiling):

“Oh? I think I saw you yesterday~”