Chapter 40: An Encounter

The next day, Sunday.

As promised, An Tong arrived at Tower A of the Twin Towers in the CBD.

It was not yet eight in the morning. The open-plan office was dimly lit; only a faint reading lamp glowed in the inner office.

In the executive chair sat Shi Ye, lounging lazily.

He wore a pale blue shirt and gray slacks. The shirt wasn’t tucked into his belt, lending him a touch of careless nonchalance.

An Tong knocked on the door. Shi Ye glanced at his watch with his narrow eyes and said, “Come in.”

She was a minute early—punctual indeed.

An Tong sat down across from him. She wore a bucket hat and a black face mask. In the dim light, only her dark, almond-shaped eyes were visible.

Shi Ye leaned back, propping his forehead on his hand, exuding a dissolute air, a hint of mischief lurking in his features.

If Dr. Rong was a gentle, refined, and upright gentleman, Shi Ye was a businessman who straddled the line between good and evil, driven solely by profit.

He swept his gaze up and down An Tong, his expression tinged with dissatisfaction. “Does wearing that mask affect your breathing?”

They’d known each other for over half a year, yet he’d never seen her true face. All he knew was that she was a young woman, and even the information in her registration was fake.

Unfazed by his scrutiny, An Tong calmly produced a neatly folded A4 sheet. “You can’t have the rest of the code, but you can use these two lines.”

Her voice was low, paying no heed to Shi Ye’s complaint.

Shi Ye unfolded the paper and, seeing only two short lines of code, scoffed through clenched teeth, “Just two lines? What am I supposed to do with this?”

This kid clearly had no intention of cooperating. If she insisted on being stubborn, he wouldn’t hesitate to commercialize all the code she’d written on her live stream, even if it meant breaking their agreement. Business was business—he wasn’t running a charity.

It was as though An Tong could read his mind. She said flatly, “These two lines will fix the payment bug in your app’s backend. The code I wrote live was out of order—useless to you.”

Shi Ye was caught off guard. “…”

“How did you know there was a bug in the payment system?”

An Tong met his gaze calmly. “Based on my revenue share, the amount on the check you gave me doesn’t match the tipping data. If it’s not a bug…”

The implication was clear.

Shi Ye raised his eyelids lazily, conceding, “You’re right. The tech guys have patched it a few times, but someone always finds a loophole. Whatever else, our company’s not so shameless as to skim your tips.”

“These two lines will fix it,” An Tong said lightly.

Shi Ye was skeptical, arching an eyebrow, “What if it doesn’t?”

“It will.”

He pressed further, feigning annoyance. “I mean, if—if it doesn’t work…”

An Tong shook her head seriously. “There is no ‘if.’”

Shi Ye glared at her, wishing he could tear off her mask and with it that cool, detached façade she wore.

Eccentricity was common among the talented, but she was eccentric to an extreme. She never showed her face during streams, could write code with ease, and even insisted on being paid by cash check.

Who knew what sort of family produced such an oddity?

The more Shi Ye thought about it, the more annoyed he became. He was, after all, half her boss, yet his authority and presence seemed nonexistent in her eyes.

After half a minute, Shi Ye forced a smile, opened a drawer, and pushed a rectangular box across the desk. “A custom-built mechanical keyboard from the company—I set one aside for you.”

However displeased he was, he kept it to himself; not only that, he had to tread carefully, coaxing her.

An Tong shook her head, declining the gift. “No need, I have plenty at home.”

Shi Ye didn’t insist. He fished out a cigarette from the drawer and put it between his lips. “That major tech company I mentioned won’t be fobbed off so easily. I’ve bought you some time, but if you refuse to sign an exclusive agreement, they’ll come looking for you eventually.”

An Tong nodded to show she understood, then asked, “Anything else?”

Shi Ye felt like he was performing a monologue. He bit down on the cigarette, silent for a long while.

Before half past eight, An Tong left the Twin Towers.

Shi Ye stood by the window for ages, chain-smoking, a cloud of worry on his brow.

Without exclusive rights to the code genius, he could never truly relax. He always felt she might leave at any moment.

If a bigger company offered better terms, there was no guarantee this kid wouldn’t be tempted.

If it came to that, Shi Ye thought, he’d have to take a different approach—play the emotional card.

He hadn’t seen her face, but her eyes were striking, with clear whites and a beautiful shape. She couldn’t look too bad.

If he could win her over, it wouldn’t be a bad plan.

…

Time slipped by quietly. In the blink of an eye, it was Tuesday.

That morning, as An Tong worked alone, she received a call from Dr. Rong.

“How have you been these past couple of days?”

His deep voice was like a glass of aged brew—rich with the passage of time.

An Tong set aside her clothes, sat on the edge of the bed, and replied calmly, “I’m doing well.”

“Don’t overthink things. If anything’s on your mind, you can talk to me,” Rong Shen reminded her gently. After some small talk, he got to the point. “Cheng Feng will be there soon. He’ll go with you to the university to collect your records and get a transfer certificate. Call me when you’re done.”

An Tong was startled by how efficient he was. “Isn’t this a bit sudden? I haven’t spoken to the school about transferring yet…”

Transferring domestically was a complicated process. Without prior communication, Hong Kong University might not agree.

But Rong Shen’s next words put her at ease. “Cheng Feng will handle it. You just need to sign.”

Could it really be that simple?

After hanging up, An Tong still found it hard to believe. But trusting Dr. Rong, she set aside her doubts, gathered her old student ID and documents, and headed out.

By chance, she met Cheng Feng at the alley entrance.

Once in the car, she asked tentatively, “About the school…”

“We just need to go sign the papers,” Cheng Feng replied matter-of-factly. “Ninth Master has already taken care of everything.”

An Tong guessed, “Does Dr. Rong know someone at Hong Kong University?”

It would make sense if it was a matter of connections.

Cheng Feng’s eyes flickered, and he answered tactfully, “He’s got some contacts. But mainly, your situation meets the transfer requirements. Don’t worry—we’ll get it done today.”

Indeed, her concerns were unfounded.

At ten o’clock, they arrived at Hong Kong University and went straight to the academic office.

They were greeted by the director himself.

An Tong hadn’t been back to her alma mater in ages. The sight of the new building and familiar surroundings made her feel a mix of emotions.

At the office, Cheng Feng didn’t let her go in at first; only when it was time to sign did he bring her the transfer application.

Other than that, she wasn’t involved in the process.

In just half an hour, it was all done.

Before leaving, Cheng Feng shook hands with the director. “Director Huang, thank you for your help.”

“No need to thank me, Mr. Cheng. Setting aside that An Tong meets the transfer requirements, with Mr. Rong donating a whole sports complex to us, I’d have made sure the transfer went through no matter what.”

Cheng Feng smiled, his words carrying an unclear meaning. “Director Huang, the reason for An Tong’s leave of absence wasn’t made public, was it?”

Director Huang’s expression grew serious. “No, it wasn’t. We never knew the details—just that her family had a major incident. Only her homeroom teacher and I knew the reason; we told no one else, not even her advisor.”

Hearing this, Cheng Feng was satisfied. “Please keep her transfer just as confidential. If there’s an opportunity, our group will consider introducing a targeted recruitment program with the university.”

“Agreed! It’s a deal.”

…

On the way back, Cheng Feng didn’t return the student file and certificate to An Tong.

He said they were for Ninth Master to handle the transfer-in process.

An Tong didn’t mind. To show her gratitude, she suggested treating Cheng Feng to lunch.

They chose a restaurant in the CBD food street, which they passed on their route.

Cheng Feng saw no harm in it. He and little An were good friends by now.

It wasn’t yet noon, so the restaurant wasn’t crowded. An Tong ordered four dishes and a soup, then sat looking at Cheng Feng, unsure what to talk about.

“Miss An, usually you…”

Before he could finish, two people emerged from the piano store across the street.

The two shops were close enough for conversation. The handsome man seemed to be discussing where to eat, and then he nodded toward the restaurant where Cheng Feng and An Tong were seated.

Seeing this, Cheng Feng quickly grabbed the menu and positioned himself by the window, trying to hide his face.

If only he hadn’t come to the CBD.

He just wanted a free meal, yet by sheer coincidence, he’d run into Wen Wan and Yi Ke.

Cheng Feng felt a headache coming on.

Meanwhile, Wen Wan and Yi Ke entered the restaurant, chatting.

Yi Ke suddenly stopped and looked in An Tong’s direction. “You said her name is An Tong?”

Wen Wan nodded graciously. “Yes, she’s a friend of Ninth Brother’s. Cheng Feng is here too. Shall we say hello?”

Yi Ke didn’t reply but walked straight over.

“Little An Tong?”

Caught off guard, Cheng Feng blurted, “?”

An Tong’s gaze lingered on Yi Ke’s face for a moment. As she stood up, she lowered her eyes and greeted him quietly, “Senior Yi… it’s been a long time.”

Cheng Feng: “??”

Wen Wan raised her eyebrows in surprise. Clearly, she hadn’t expected Yi Ke to know An Tong.

This girl had left a deep impression on her with just a fleeting glance in the backyard at Cloud Summit.

Yi Ke stood by the table, eyes shimmering with reminiscence, and said with a laugh, “It’s been more than a long time—at least four or five years, hasn’t it? It’s been so long, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Cheng Feng sensed something out of the ordinary and covertly sent a message to Ninth Master under the table.

He wasn’t overreacting—Yi Ke was the third son of the Yi family and a renowned pianist. He and Miss An had no obvious connection, so how did “Little An Tong” and “Senior Yi” come to be?