When he went to work on Monday, Zhang Yang finally stopped hiding it.
He brought breakfast and sat down beside Bei Wei's desk first thing in the morning, eating with her as if no one else were there.
Steamed buns, soy milk—the desk at her workstation was covered with food.
"Brother Zhang, I can't eat any more. Have another bun." Bei Wei said with a hint of playfulness, gently picking up the last bun with her chopsticks and placing it in Zhang Yang's lunchbox.
The gesture made it blatantly obvious.
When their coworkers arrived that morning and saw them, they'd been surprised, but had held back from asking.
Now, though, even a fool could see what was going on between them.
In an instant, dozens of people around the company exchanged countless glances. Who knew how many times they'd whispered about it among themselves?
"I'm not seeing things, am I?!"
"Bei Wei? Zhang Yang?!"
"Has the sun risen in the west? Zhang Yang actually won Bei Wei over?"
"This is unbelievable!"
"So the Porsche guy couldn't win Bei Wei over, but this Old Zhang quietly swooped in and stole her away?"
On the men's side, two new hires who'd once fallen for Bei Wei, struck out, and still hadn't gotten over it stared at the scene with wide eyes.
Especially when they saw Zhang Yang casually drape an arm over Bei Wei's shoulder.
In an instant, their fists clenched. Their blood surged, and they were filled with indignation.
Why?
Why Old Zhang?
"Old Zhang, you—you..." A few of them walked over, eyes red, and stood in front of the pair, wanting to demand an explanation.
They had no real reason to storm over like this, but subconsciously, they felt Zhang Yang was the one who'd gained an unfair advantage and