"We’re still looking, but President Ding, you don’t need to worry. The person should be fine, likely just hiding."
After a pause, Fang Hui cautiously asked, "President Ding, about Rong Xianning’s parents, should we send soone to handle it?"
Fang Hui was Ding ng’s trusted aide and knew more than outsiders.
Back then, during the company’s nationwide audition for talented and attractive young boys, they received tens of thousands of resus in a short period. While sorting through them, Rong Xianning’s impressive resu imdiately stood out, and the passport-size photo of a clean and refined young boy seed tailor-made for the company.
Just like that, Rong Xianning’s resu landed on Ding ng’s desk.
Ding ng was very impressed with Rong Xianning and scheduled a eting with his parents the next day to discuss signing a contract.
Fang Hui was busy with other matters at the ti and didn’t accompany them, but according to the secretary who went, those parents ridiculously demanded exorbitant terms, infuriating President Ding.
But Ding ng was seasoned in this business and had a way of dealing with such people—greedier individuals were easier to control. She handed over five million yuan to settle them.
This was because Rong Xianning was truly exceptional; with any other boy, President Ding would never have gone to such lengths.
Even after discovering that those parents had engaged in shady activities that might eventually cause serious trouble, Ding ng couldn’t bear to give up this promising "big catch."
To support Xianning even further, she unearthed four other boys to serve as his foils.
Since his week-long disappearance and subsequent return, Rong Xianning’s personality changed drastically. He dared to slam his hands on the table and challenge President Ding. Although furious and wanting to teach him a lesson, she never considered letting him go.
In contrast, Wen Yan, who tried to fra Rong Xianning, was thrown out by President Ding without hesitation.
Looking at it this way, no matter how egregious Rong Xianning’s actions were, he always held a place in President Ding’s heart.
Perhaps the unattainable is always the most coveted. The more fiercely this boy resisted, the less willing President Ding was to let go. This is the joy of cultivation, isn’t it?
Fang Hui knew Rong Xianning’s parents would cause trouble sooner or later and had begun preparing long ago, but she never expected it would explode so quickly, catching everyone off guard.
"No need. Just find him first. As for the online rumors, I have a eting with President Wu tomorrow morning; we’ll discuss it then."
After a pause, she added, "I’ll have my secretary send you my seal tomorrow morning. Take it to the Tianlu Bank’s safe deposit box and retrieve sothing for . I’ll send you the address later. Deliver it to personally."
Fang Hui’s heart skipped a beat. President Ding had a safe deposit box at Tianlu Bank, where she stored her valuable collectibles. To set up a private box at the bank, one could only imagine the worth of its contents.
This ti, President Ding was willing to pull out all the stops to help Rong Xianning escape this crisis.
It seed Rong Xianning’s place in President Ding’s heart was even deeper than she had imagined.
Lowering her lashes, Fang Hui said, "Understood, President Ding."
After hanging up, Fang Hui called her assistant again but still had no news of Rong Xianning.
This child often disappeared like this—phone off, apartnt empty. Besides his unreliable parents, he had no friends or relatives to rely on. Where could he be hiding?
Once they found him, she’d have to fit Rong Xianning with a tracker to prevent such situations from happening again.
Fang Hui drove hastily to the company. If President Ding wanted to smooth things over with Wu Tian, the public sentint online couldn’t be allowed to worsen. Tonight would be another all-nighter.
~
Chunzhou was blessed with spring-like weather year-round. Even in December, aside from the faintly desolate chill of the breeze, there wasn’t a trace of cold to be felt.
Yet tonight, a sudden downpour arrived swiftly and urgently.
It seed desperate to wash away the gri and filth of the human world.
On the streets in the dead of night, apart from the occasional passing car, there wasn’t a soul on the sidewalks amidst the raging wind and rain—not even a ghostly shadow.
Well, except for that figure slowly moving in the pouring rain.
At first glance, a thin silhouette walked languidly amidst the torrential rain and mist, eerily unnerving, as if one had stumbled upon a ghost.
It was a boy dressed entirely in black. Raindrops pelted down on him, dragging his black coat even further downward, as though the weight of a thousand pounds bore down on him. The boy staggered unsteadily, his thin back radiating an endless lancholy and loneliness.
He walked through the curtain of rain, disregarding the drops falling upon him. With no clear destination, no path ho, he wandered aimlessly, endlessly.
Until his strength was exhausted—until he reached the end of the road.
From his backpack, a black-screened phone suddenly lit up with a ghastly glow, automatically rebooting.
Then a ringtone rang eerily, cutting through the clamor of wind and rain—a sorrowful, haunting piano lody that refused to be drowned out. It echoed in the night.
Mozart’s "Piano Concerto No. 23."
A requiem for a winter’s night.
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