In the warm, dimly lit room, the air seemed to have frozen.
Secretary Jin sat quietly by the bed, her back ramrod straight, her hands folded over her knees.
Her lips were pressed tightly together, and she said nothing.
"Director Jin—"
Shangguan Qiuya called softly, her voice carrying a hint of unease.
Having followed her boss for so many years, she knew that words like hesitation, indecision, and absentmindedness should never have existed in Director Jin's dictionary.
She was Wall Street's Wonder Woman, a decisive leader, the embodiment of perfection—always impeccably made up, rigorously logical, and flawless.
Even when facing multibillion-dollar acquisition battles, even under pressure from Washington's most cunning politicians, she had never displayed such fragile, distracted emotions.
Secretary Jin did not respond. A struggle flickered in her clear, lively eyes.
Ever since that miraculous dream in early 2016, she had crossed the barriers of time, space, and dimension, forming a soul-deep connection with him that science could not explain.
For someone raised on an elite education and devoted to absolute materialism, it had been an experience bordering on a miracle.
It had convinced her that they were special, that they were each other's only kindred spirits.
Of course, she had once felt the urge to investigate. She had even used her own methods to look into it.
But from the moment the [Tang Jin Family Office] was officially established in November 2019, she had voluntarily sealed away all her curiosity and desire to pry, choosing instead to stand before him wholeheartedly.
She knew that earth-shaking changes had taken place during his year in Yancheng. She knew that all kinds of women had appeared by his side.
She knew everything.
But she followed the rules.
She strictly honored her promise, watching over him from the highest place, silently burying