Chapter 50: Should She Go and Rescue the Poor Lawyer Wen?

This wave of publicity was fierce and intense. Although Song Mi made the decision in haste, Assistant Lin executed it with remarkable efficiency. In just one morning, the name of Four Seas Group and hers were repeatedly catapulted onto the trending lists of several authoritative platforms.

Song Mi, the diligent worker!
Four Seas Group officially announced its leadership in the West Suburb Old Town Redevelopment Plan!
Song Mi’s early investment in a South African mine revealed!
Taking from the people, giving back to the people: Four Seas Group intends to sponsor the Wangjiang Bridge project.
Four Seas Entertainment is planning a film inspired by the late actress Bai Ying’s life.
Song Mi’s personal investment in the restaurant industry.
Netizens clamored for Song Mi to make her debut right now.

Previously, when she appeared at the Shen family’s funeral, it was her first public appearance, and her identity was released alongside Mr. Shen’s obituary. Yet, people’s hearts are wicked; who would believe she didn’t rise to power through youth and beauty? Rumors spread like wildfire that she and Mr. Shen had registered their marriage abroad long ago, making her his rightful widow. She didn’t instruct the PR department to intercept or handle the rumors—not because she firmly believed in the principle that innocence speaks for itself, but because she felt it unnecessary.

This time, she proactively proved herself a working woman—largely as a precaution. If the passionate video from that night were exposed, without the connection to Mr. Shen, at least Attorney Wen would not face moral condemnation. Both unmarried, single, drawn to each other in a moment—what happens behind closed doors is their own affair, irrelevant to others! Even if exposed, dirtying the eyes of the world, it would never be their intention. In fact, they would be the victims.

Qiao Weiwei had already been rescued. Xia Yuan and Ye Zhao, though unable to be moved, had reached an understanding with Wei Jiu. In other words, aside from exposing the video, Shen Yanye had nothing left to threaten her. Yet she still decided to clarify the matter, wary of Shen Yanye lashing out in humiliation.

As for the three old foxes and other shareholders, business is business—profit reigns supreme. She was eager to see, amid this series of favorable developments, whether they would truly disregard everything and be determined to remove her.

Per her instructions, the interview ended half an hour early. Afterward, Ye Zhao took her to the nearest mall, where Assistant Lin had already cleared the entire men’s clothing floor. Ideally, bespoke tailoring was best, but pressed for time, they had to make do.

Strangely, she was certain about his shirt, pants, and shoe sizes. One glance and she knew which size fit, though she’d never done anything like this before. Even in the underwear section, the staff respectfully asked for height and weight information. After a glance at the display mannequin, she directly picked several styles, all the same size: “These, please.”

Finally, she visited the accessories section. She found satisfactory belts and ties, but couldn’t spot suitable cufflinks despite repeated searches. Time was too tight; she had to give up.

A group of mall executives escorted her to the entrance like stars around the moon, bidding her farewell in unison, “We sincerely welcome President Song’s next visit.”

Song Mi glanced indifferently at the nearest man, whose badge read ‘Director of Operations, Major Client Services,’ and said, “Send all the clothing to the dry cleaner first.”

“How soon can it be ready?”

The man’s smile froze for half a second, then he responded quickly, “Tonight—I’ll personally contact Assistant Lin.”

Song Mi replied crisply, “Thank you.”

He bowed, “It’s our pleasure.”

At 11:20, Song Mi entered a private room at Tianxiang Tower.

Uncle Zhang personally received her. As she sat down, Sister Tan arrived. To Song Mi’s surprise, Sister Tan brought another guest. She had met this person once before: Young Master Huo Qingjue, who had first greeted her after the recent business negotiation.

“Sister Song, let me introduce you—this is Young Master Huo Qingjue,” Sister Tan approached, “Ran into him at the door. He heard you were here and insisted on coming up to greet you!”

“See, a beauty always has such charm.”

The words felt familiar, less perfunctory, lively in atmosphere.

Huo Qingjue stepped forward, extending his hand, “I came uninvited—hope I haven’t startled you, President Song!”

“Not at all, Young Master Huo!” Song Mi naturally extended her hand to shake his. “Chance meetings are better than formal invitations! If you’re free—”

“Sister Tan, why not join us?” As she spoke, Song Mi’s eyes danced with a light ripple, gazing at Sister Tan.

Whether it was coincidence or intention, it would soon be clear.

“Thank you for your kindness, President Song. Next time, I’ll host and invite you both.” Before Sister Tan could answer, Huo Qingjue replied first, “Today I’m meeting a friend for business.”

They were all clever people; Huo Qingjue understood exactly what Song Mi meant by “if you’re free.” She’d given him a ladder; naturally, he climbed down gracefully.

After seeing Huo Qingjue off, the two women sat again. Once they’d eaten and discussed what needed to be discussed, Sister Tan brought up Huo Qingjue, “Xiao Song, I did meet him at the door, but don’t you think it’s a bit too much of a coincidence to come so early for lunch?”

Song Mi hadn’t expected Sister Tan to be so direct; she feigned surprise, then smiled, “Looks like the Huo family wants to compete for position.”

Otherwise, why keep such a close eye on Sister Tan’s movements?

It was understandable. When Old Mr. Shen was around, the Huo family’s strength couldn’t surpass the local giants. Now that she was in charge of Four Seas Group, they naturally wanted to test the waters.

Sister Tan had a different view. “The Huo family’s eldest couple is getting divorced—caught cheating, the wife’s adamant, and it seems she’ll take half the assets.”

“So, Huo Qingjue is eager to seize the opportunity.”

The Huo family originated from Hong Kong, started in supermarkets, and in recent years, as shopping centers flourished and commercial real estate matured, they rode the wave, thriving in several second- and third-tier cities and relocating to the capital last year.

As for the resolute wife Sister Tan mentioned, Huo Qingjue’s sister-in-law—if Song Mi remembered correctly, her surname was Wen.

Yes, the Wen family in the capital.

Among the four major families in the capital, the Wen family is the most low-key.

It’s said that ever since their most illustrious era, the Wen family has maintained a neutral stance in all matters—a doctrine of moderation. This family ethos has been passed down through generations, making the clan both prominent and notably peaceful and non-confrontational.

Yet, when researching, Song Mi had come across a theory she agreed with: the more steadfast the neutrality, the more crucial it becomes in times of crisis—the so-called butterfly effect.

Her mind quickly filtered through information about the Wen family, her heart unexpectedly tugged—Attorney Wen is also surnamed Wen!

Previously, she’d only seen names and relationship charts, perhaps even mind maps. Now, she couldn’t help but draw connections.

This man—whether present or absent—always caught her attention.

But the current Wen family generation all have names starting with ‘Yan.’ Judging by the names, this Wen is not that Wen.

Song Mi soon laughed at herself inwardly. She was just an ordinary woman, and upon thinking of him, she wanted to see him. Knowing she’d soon meet him, she was restless, eager to hurry back. This must be what people call being lovestruck.

She knew it wasn’t good, but a voice inside urged: follow your feelings, keep going.

She’d scheduled the meeting for this time because she needed to return to her apartment before one o’clock. Coincidentally, Sister Tan had a parent-teacher meeting for her daughter at two-thirty, and needed to get her hair and facial done after lunch.

Both women were pressed for time, so they ate quickly and spoke directly.

The Huo Qingjue incident and Huo family matters were mentioned by Sister Tan only in passing.

For Song Mi, now that she knew Huo Qingjue’s stance on the Old Town Redevelopment Project had shifted, contingency plans for this potential crisis needed to be added to the agenda immediately.

As for Sister Tan’s beauty appointment, Song Mi had already arranged it. The matter of the diamond hairpin with the hidden camera couldn’t be addressed openly with Yun Shang’s management. Shen Ruming was clever; the stylist was doing her bidding, and after the incident was exposed, she’d surely know how to handle the aftermath.

Undoubtedly, that stylist would never work in this circle again.

Still, Song Mi had Assistant Lin subtly warn Yun Shang’s manager when booking the room.

Time was tight; Song Mi got in the car at twelve-thirty. In theory, she could arrive within fifteen minutes. But accounting for getting out, taking the elevator, it was uncertain.

They might even bump into each other in the parking lot.

For the first time, Song Mi felt flustered.

After all, she’d already made him ice-cold last night; she’d experienced his meticulousness more than once. If he caught her again… she felt guilty just thinking about it.

Her heart was tangled when suddenly, a message arrived on her other phone. As she opened it, Ye Zhao’s phone rang too.

It was from the man, saying he couldn’t make it—Ye Zhao would take his place.

Up front, Ye Zhao quickly hung up, then turned to her, “Miss Song, Attorney Wen asked me to take you to Four Seas Tower.”

Actually, Song Mi had already guessed.

It felt as if something was missing.

That was disappointment.

She had known disappointment before, but this was different—not like what she felt now.

It was as if a piece of her heart had suddenly gone missing, almost tangible.

Nothing had happened; she was still herself, her heart unchanged.

He’d made arrangements, given explanations—so why did she feel so… uncomfortable?

Ye Zhao glanced at her in the rearview mirror, asking, “Are we going straight there?”

Song Mi didn’t answer.

At this moment, she was stuck in a mental rut, obsessively wanting to clarify and dissect this intangible bad feeling.

Just then, her phone rang again—not the one in her hand, but the one in her bag.

After a moment, she answered.

It was Assistant Lin: “Chairwoman, the two o’clock meeting has been canceled.”

Song Mi was alert again. “Who notified?”

“The internal network,” Lin replied. “The meeting notice is gone from the group intranet.”

What did this mean?

Pretend nothing happened, sweep it under the rug!?

Uncontrollably, Song Mi became angry, “Have IT investigate whose credentials deleted the meeting notice.”

Assistant Lin was prepared. “Already checked—it shows… a hacker intrusion…”

Well done! They even blamed it on hackers!

Song Mi instantly calmed down. “Arrange dinner with Steward Zhou.”

For the first time, Assistant Lin hesitated for almost half a minute. “Chairwoman, since the meeting is canceled, please take care of your health.”

“One more thing—Lin Shen was moved to a regular ward today. The doctor says her recovery is progressing well; after a week of observation, if stable, she can be discharged.”

His manner was composed, his advice sound, even reminding her with Lin Shen’s recovery that life is precious.

Realizing her earlier outburst was likely an emotional vent, Song Mi subconsciously relaxed, letting her body sink into the chair, her long lashes fluttering, lips gently parting, “Alright.”

After hanging up, her voice was faint, “No need to go—let’s return to the apartment.”

Ye Zhao looked at her in the rearview mirror, “Alright.”

Meanwhile, Wen Yanli never expected to receive a call from his mother.

Moreover, she was already in Jinzhou, en route from the airport to her hotel.

Even more unexpectedly, his mother had come to Jinzhou specifically to accompany a friend to attend Lu Zhizhi’s solo art exhibition.

Given Lu Zhizhi’s qualifications, it was far too soon for a solo exhibition. But as the last disciple of Ye Ying, painter of the New Impressionist school, with Ye Ying’s influence and the Lu family’s wealth, it was unsurprising that Lu Zhizhi could return from further study and launch a high-profile solo show.

He knew his mother’s male friend, but didn’t realize this uncle was also Ye Ying’s friend.

He received the call at 12:15, already on his way from the law firm to Song Mi’s apartment.

He had hesitated, considering whether to escort Song Mi first, then rush to the hotel to see his mother.

But if he went, he wouldn’t be able to leave midway or early, so he simply chose to break the appointment.

When he called Ye Zhao, he’d already changed course, heading to the hotel where his mother would stay.

He didn’t call Song Mi, just sent a message.

The phone sat on the dashboard, but she never replied.

Stopped at a light, he checked his messages. Only his own text was there.

All morning, news about her was everywhere—from financial reports to gossip columns, each trending topic pushing notification after notification.

Usually, such news wouldn’t appear on his phone.

After receiving that fifteen-second video, he’d reinstalled some trivial news apps and enabled notifications.

He’d expected to see something related to the video, but found nothing.

Thinking back to the morning, seeing headlines about her, for the first time he felt the urge to investigate her background and history.

But another voice in his mind quickly suppressed it.

Did he care?

Who was she? What had she done? What had she experienced?

The answer was yes, he cared.

But what mattered more was her.

Her, holding him tightly in the elevator, saying, “Attorney Wen, we’re in this together!”

Her, bloodied in the ambulance, asking, “Attorney Wen, interested in another date?”

He couldn’t imagine, if she hadn’t survived that night’s hemorrhage, what he would have done.

They had never discussed the child face to face.

He hadn’t told her he knew she was pregnant, or how the child came to be.

He hadn’t apologized. If not for his insistence that Feng Jue exert pressure and cancel all surgeries in the VIP wing at St. Noah’s Hospital that afternoon, she wouldn’t have suffered such painful separation, lost so much blood, nearly… died.

But he knew, it wasn’t out of responsibility or guilt.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t mind the word “bodyguard” so much.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t be restless, unable to sleep.

Caught in traffic, the brake lights of the car ahead glowed red, another stoplight.

He glanced at his phone again, loosened his collar.

Just then, the phone finally rang.

But it wasn’t from the person he was waiting for—it was Lu Zhizhi.

In her apartment, Song Mi never expected to get a call from Lu Zhizhi.

Her first thought was Shen Ruming.

Other than Shen Ruming, where else could Lu Zhizhi have gotten her number?

Clearly, this Seventh Miss was determined to bring her some discomfort, even at the last moment.

Lu Zhizhi introduced herself, then stated her purpose, “Miss Song, I’ve reserved two seats for you at six-thirty tonight.”

“Would Miss Song honor us?”

Song Mi intended to refuse. Lu Zhizhi was on her list, but there was no rush; once she recovered, there would be ample time.

Yet, inexplicably, she said, “Oh, so it’s tonight… How come Attorney Wen didn’t remind me yesterday?”

Over the phone, hearing this, and recalling that night and the contents of the video, Lu Zhizhi’s fingernails dug into her palm, but she still replied with a hint of embarrassment, “His mother returned from abroad. He’s probably busy accompanying her, so he forgot.”

Song Mi’s brow twitched sharply, her gaze turning cold. “So, Attorney Wen’s mother came back specifically for Miss Lu’s exhibition?”

Lu Zhizhi purposely avoided answering, laughing, “Miss Song, see you tonight.”

After hanging up, Song Mi scoffed—so that’s how it is.

Attorney Wen really is a dutiful son!

There’s nothing wrong with filial men!

But after what Lu Zhizhi had done to her, to call personally—if she didn’t take the bait, letting Lu Zhizhi shine in front of her future mother-in-law, it seemed out of character for her.

—Future mother-in-law?

She was amused by the term her mind had conjured.

Attorney Wen had said, after all, he and Lu Zhizhi had nothing between them.

Tsk, tsk, parental orders are hard to defy!

Should she go rescue poor Attorney Wen?

Just then, Qiao Weiwei emerged from her room, calling out from afar, “Mi’er, what are you up to?!”