On the other side, Su Chen eagerly followed Lin Xi to the CEO's office.
After Lin Xi sat down on the sofa, he imdiately approached her, ready to serve the CEO's wife.
"Stop right there!" However, Lin Xi stopped him.
"Wife, didn't you ask for a massage?" Su Chen was startled.
Lin Xi glanced at Su Chen with a aningful expression on her face and said, "The girls in the sales departnt have nice figures, huh?"
"Uh... alright, alright..." Su Chen began to sweat on his forehead.
Is the CEO's wife about to reprimand him?
"Hmph, if I catch you giving them massages again, you're dead!" Lin Xi suddenly threatened fiercely.
Since it was a massage, physical contact was inevitable.
Lin Xi would not allow that to happen.
Su Chen felt a pang of annoyance in his heart.
Damn it, it's all Zheng Aojiao's fault.
Now there's no hope, the boss has banned it.
"Co here." Seeing Su Chen's distressed look, Lin Xi suddenly smiled.
"What for?"
"For a massage."
...
Thud!
A crumpled piece of paper was thrown into the trash by Xia Yan.
This was the umpteenth design she had scrapped.
No inspiration!
No inspiration!
No inspiration!
She couldn't co up with anything.
In her mind, it was all about what had happened at sea.
If this continued, Xia Yan felt she would soon lose her mind.
What troubled her most was that an image of a man kept appearing in her mind involuntarily.
And that man was not her husband.
That was terrifying.
Although Xia Yan was quite open-minded sexually, she wasn't a loose woman.
But this was out of her control.
She was filled with guilt.
Speaking of which, she seed to have heard Yang Jiajun on the phone last night talking about a loan.
Yang Jiajun was actually a real estate developer.
Though not a major one.
But still, his net worth was in the tens of millions.
That's why Lin Xi ntioned that Yang Jiajun was richer than Su Chen.
However, it wasn't his wealth that made him pursue Xia Yan.
He had been courting her since their college days.
After years of pursuit, Xia Yan finally agreed.
Thinking of the loan, Xia Yan imdiately thought of Yu Qingi, the woman she t on the island!
Wasn't she the vice president of the bank her husband wanted the loan from?
If she could sort this out, surely Yang Jiajun would be happy, right?
Mainly, it was to alleviate her own guilt.
After work, Xia Yan called Yu Qingi.
When they parted, they had exchanged phone numbers.
They agreed to et at a coffee shop.
The current situation for real estate was not good, with the economy being down and new governnt policies.
For small real estate companies, it was disastrous.
Many small real estate companies had closed.
Banks had also tightened their loan limits for these companies.
So, Yang Jiajun was worried about this issue.
If he couldn't get the loan, his company might go bankrupt.
The situation was much easier than Xia Yan had imagined.
The bank had indeed started restricting loans to small real estate firms.
In fact, many couldn't get loans at all.
But Yu Qingi, being a senior banking officer, although a deputy, could easily handle it.
After all, they had only tightened policies, not completely stopped lending.
Having gone through life and death together on the island, Yu Qingi was definitely going to help.
"Thank you so much, Vice President Yu," Xia Yan said with gratitude.
"It's nothing."
While Xia Yan was eting with Yu Qingi, Yang Jiajun was in a high-end hotel toasting a plump man.
"Manager Deng, you must help this ti."
The plump man frowned slightly and said, "Young Yang, you know it's not that I don't want to help you, but it's a policy issue, and I'm really helpless here."
Yang Jiajun was not foolish.
Policy issue? It's just a matter of your word.
Although this plump man was only a manager, he had a significant background and influence.
If he was willing to help, the loan would definitely not be a problem.
They had collaborated many tis before,
and Yang Jiajun had also slipped him quite a bit of money.
But this ti, the guy didn't want money, he unexpectedly...
If absolutely necessary, Yang Jiajun really didn't want to take that step.
So, he invited Manager Deng out again today,
hoping to settle things with money.
"Manager Deng, I know this is a big favor to ask, don't worry, I promise, as long as the loan is approved, I will give you this much," Yang Jiajun gestured with two fingers.
That ant two million.
His loan was about twenty million.
Two million wasn't a small amount.
If it were before, two million would definitely tempt Manager Deng.
But recently, higher ups were watching closely.
They had even started suspecting the sources of his money.
He was just a manager, yet his assets nearly amounted to ten million.
Although he generally registered properties like houses and cars under his relatives' nas,
if really investigated, there was a paper trail.
So, Manager Deng was now a bit scared to take the money.
Taking the two million wouldn't be safe to spend.
Since he was afraid to take the money, he had another idea.
By chance, he saw Yang Jiajun's wife.
She was absolutely stunning,
nearly comparable to the woman he was involved with.
But he knew that the woman he was with was beyond his reach for a lifeti.
As for Yang Jiajun's wife, well...
That condition was already subtly suggested by Manager Deng.
He had hinted for Yang Jiajun to bring his sister-in-law out for a al.
Yang Jiajun was no fool; he knew what that ant,
and he understood what this guy was after.
But he truly loved Xia Yan.
Or else he wouldn't have pursued her for so many years.
If possible, he would rather give Manager Deng two million than to mistreat Xia Yan.
"Brother, I won't beat around the bush. I can indeed approve the loan for you, I don't want your money, I want your wife, to be my girlfriend for a day," Manager Deng finally lost his patience.
Yang Jiajun slumped in his chair.
Although he was ntally prepared,
hearing Manager Deng say it out loud was still hard to accept.
After all, that was his wife.
No man could accept that, right?
But if he couldn't secure the loan...
During this ti, Yang Jiajun hadn't been sitting idly by.
He had approached many other banks.
The results were very disappointing.
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