Chapter 8 The Car Ride
“Assistant Chun, Secretary Song gets carsick.”
While I hesitated between the front passenger seat and the back, Shen Zong had already made the decision for me.
In the spacious interior, he sat right in the center, long legs stretched out casually.
I could only sit beside him.
Not long after the car started moving, I began to feel unwell for no reason.
Shen Zong seemed to have forgotten.
I got carsick too.
In the past, whenever he drove me to and from work, no matter how cold it was, he would roll down the windows.
But now, because of the rain, the windows were tightly shut, and the heater was on full blast.
I pressed the window button.
It was locked.
At that moment, Shen Zong suddenly spoke.
“Turn off the heater. Open the windows.”
A rush of cool air came in and eased my nausea.
I turned my head toward him, about to thank him.
As if sensing my intention, Shen Zong spoke first, tone icy.
“Assistant Chun, don’t flatter yourself. I did it for Secretary Song.”
The drinking session that night didn’t end until nearly ten.
After the daytime meeting, Shen Zong only brought me to the evening banquet.
Most people in the business circle knew him—no one dared make him drink.
When we left the club, I stood by the roadside to hail a cab.
Behind me, a car horn sounded.
The window slowly rolled down, revealing Shen Zong’s cold and arrogant face.
“Get in.”
“No need. I can go back myself.”
As soon as I spoke, his expression darkened further.
He stared at me, voice mocking.
“Don’t think I still care about you. You came with me, so no matter who it was, I would send them back.”
I couldn’t win against him, so I got in the car.
The whole ride was deathly quiet.
In the past, whenever I sat in his car, he would play some relaxing music.
He would chat with me casually.
But now, not a single song played, and Shen Zong showed no intention of talking.
When we stopped at a red light, the car jerked to a halt.
Shen Zong kept his eyes forward and spoke flatly.
“You’re out this late and he doesn’t even call to check on you?”
“What?”
It took me half a second to realize he was talking about Wen Zeyi.
I answered casually.
“I already texted him.”
Shen Zong let out a sneer, lips pulling in a humorless line.
“You texted and that’s enough? He doesn’t care anymore?”
“He’s that comfortable letting you go home alone at night?”
“Is this how he treats you as a boyfriend? What exactly did you see in—”
Shen Zong kept going, growing more agitated.
“President Shen.” I cut him off and tested. “How about you let me out now and I call him to come pick me up?”
The moment I finished, Shen Zong’s face looked like he had swallowed something foul.
He turned away and spat coldly.
“No need!”