Qing Muye clutched his phone to his ear, the question "Where are you?" echoing in his mind, causing him to knit his brows.
Damn it, since when did his self-control become so poor?
He couldn't resist calling her just because he saw a photo of her with Steve and Ji Lanfeng?!
The call had been made on impulse, and now that his mind had calmed down, he didn't even know when he had dialed Meng Jingwei's number.
It was as if the process of dialing Meng Jingwei's mobile number had happened in a dream.
On the other end of the phone, Meng Jingwei's face darkened when she heard Qing Muye's voice.
What did this scoundrel want by calling her?
"Do I need to report my whereabouts to you? If you have something to say, spit it out. Don't waste my time," Meng Jingwei taunted Qing Muye unceremoniously.
She added at the end, "I'm very busy."
Busy?
Upon hearing her words, Qing Muye's mind conjured up the intimate photo of Meng Jingwei with Steve and Ji Lanfeng.
In the photo, she was beaming, in a very good mood.
Was her so-called 'busy' a cover for being busy charming handsome men?
Damn it!
Qing Muye's expression was as dark as ink; he wished he could appear before Meng Jingwei immediately, abduct her, and hide her away.
"No matter what you're busy with, come to Songyu Group immediately."
The man had completely lost his reason.
The need to keep his distance from her to avoid outsiders discovering their close relationship; the intention to alienate Meng Jingwei so she wouldn't realize he still loved her, and so on...
All of it had long been thrown to the wind.
Qing Muye swore that he had never lost his reason as much as he had at this moment.
"I told you, I'm very busy."
Meng Jingwei refused him heartlessly.
She grumbled to herself, *Scoundrel, what do you take me for? Someone you can summon and dismiss at will?*
Seeing that she had no intention of coming, Qing Muye irritably ran his hand through his short, dark hair. Inspiration struck, and with his usual indifferent tone, he said, "Regarding Shuyao's situation, are you sure you don't want to know?"
Over the past year, Shuyao and Meng Jingwei had become good friends, even close confidantes.
Qing Muye knew that Meng Jingwei was always worried about Shuyao's well-being.
He had hit the nail on the head.
Qing Muye had grasped Meng Jingwei's thoughts.
With just one sentence, Meng Jingwei immediately changed her mind and said, "Okay, I'll be there now."
After hanging up, Meng Jingwei put away her phone and couldn't help but grumble, "What the hell? If you have something to say, why didn't you say it on the phone? You had to make me come over? This is deliberate."
But there was no other way; for Shuyao's sake, she had to go.
Meng Jingwei bid farewell to Ji Lanfeng and Steve, leaving the film set, and arranged to go out together the next day.
She drove to Songyu Group.
It happened to be rush hour, and it took a full hour to reach Songyu Group.
Knock, knock, knock—
She knocked on the door, and Qing Muye's voice came from inside, "Come in."
Meng Jingwei was now Qing family's god-granddaughter, so she had great freedom to enter and exit the company, and no one would stop her.
She pushed open the office door and walked in, not seeing Qing Muye sitting at his desk.
Taking a few more steps inside, she discovered Qing Muye sitting on the sofa in the lounge area, preparing to eat.
The table was set with four dishes and one soup, a balanced and very substantial meal.
Meng Jingwei, who had been busy all morning, felt her stomach rumble uncomfortably.
The sound was particularly clear in the quiet office.
Her slightly annoyed face immediately flushed, feeling both angry and embarrassed.
But despite this, Meng Jingwei maintained her outward coolness and stood before Qing Muye, "What did you want to say about Shuyao?"
Facing the man she had once loved, Meng Jingwei's heart was filled with mixed emotions.
Qing Muye glanced at her with a placid gaze, lowered his head, and picked up his chopsticks. "Let's talk after I eat."
"Qing Muye, I'm really pressed for time. Can you finish eating and then talk?"
The little woman was very annoyed, feeling that Qing Muye was deliberately making her wait.
After she finished speaking, the man straightened up, a charming and seductive smile appearing on his handsome face. "If you're busy, you can leave."
"You..."
Meng Jingwei felt a rush of blood, her hands clenched at her sides, unable to resist the urge to fight him.
Endure, she must endure; she couldn't be so rude.
She took a deep breath, a perfunctory smile forming on her lips. "Then... you eat slowly, I'll wait."
She simply tossed her bag onto the sofa and sat opposite Qing Muye.
The man said nothing, picked up his chopsticks, picked up a piece of braised pork, and began to eat slowly.
His eating speed was neither fast nor slow; his movements were elegant and pleasing to the eye.
Especially the dishes on the table, coincidentally, they were all dishes that Meng Jingwei liked.
She felt that Qing Muye, the scoundrel, was doing this on purpose.
As this thought crossed her mind, she heard him say, "If you want to eat, you can join me."
"I don't want to eat."
Meng Jingwei leaned back on the sofa, snorted coldly, and refused with great pride.
Grumble—
Her stomach growled again.
At this moment, Meng Jingwei was almost driven mad.
Because she had trained strenuously with old Chen head in the morning and was in a hurry to get to the film set, she had only eaten four small steamed buns to fill her stomach.
She had been working with Steve all morning, planning fight choreography and sparring a few rounds to build chemistry, and she was already so hungry her head was spinning and her vision was blurring.
Now, seeing food, she had no resistance at all.
But no matter how hungry she was, she didn't want to eat Qing Muye's food.
"These dishes were made by a new top national banquet master from Yipinju; the taste is absolutely exceptional. It's a real shame if you don't eat them."
Qing Muye deliberately teased Meng Jingwei, holding his chopsticks and pointing at the steamed fish. "This steamed fish is tender and delicious, melts in your mouth, has no fishy smell, and leaves a lingering fragrance. It's truly a masterpiece."
"And this braised pork, made with a secret sauce, is rich but not greasy, and tastes exceptionally good."
"However, this Szechuan chicken is a bit too spicy. My palate is light; I can't eat very spicy food."
He explained as he ate.
He was eating Meng Jingwei's favorite dishes, and she had a heavy palate and liked spicy food.
Hearing him say this, the gluttons in her stomach churned, causing her great torment.
"If you're eating, can you just shut your mouth?" Meng Jingwei gritted her teeth in anger.
Qing Muye held his bowl in one hand and chopsticks in the other, looked up, and with an innocent expression, said, "What? Am I not allowed to comment on the food my own cook made?"
His implication was that his words were a monologue, spoken to himself.
Meng Jingwei was almost furious enough to explode.
Qing Muye didn't say any more nonsense, but he ate elegantly, chewing slowly and savoring his food with great enjoyment.
"Damn it!"
The little woman couldn't help but curse. In a fit of anger, she picked up another set of chopsticks and bowls from the table and began to eat.
"Who said you could eat? Those bowls and chopsticks are for Song Ci," Qing Muye pretended to stop her.
Meng Jingwei ignored Qing Muye, directly picked up a piece of braised pork, put it in her mouth, and ate heartily. "If I let you eat so slowly, you'll probably eat until tomorrow. If I finish it for you, you can get to the main topic faster."
She thought she was a clever girl, and her words were flawless.