"You sound exactly like that President Liu," Zhou Xiaoyi said, her eyes filled with curiosity. "Old classmate, is your company mainly in investment?"
"Yes." Zhang Yang nodded.
"Then, old classmate, if there were a young person standing in front of you—motivated and full of dreams for the future—asking you for a few million to make a dream come true, would you think that was too much?" Zhou Xiaoyi joked.
"Where? You?" Zhang Yang laughed. "Spending a few million to invest in a young person with potential and determination really isn't much."
"Oh no, you've got this old lady all worked up at once." Zhou Xiaoyi's eyes immediately sparkled as she patted her chest.
That afternoon.
Zhang Yang and the old classmate he had not seen in years sat in his Pudong office, drinking tea and chatting as they quietly admired the vast skyline beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
At such close range, Zhou Xiaoyi looked at the composed yet imposing old classmate before her and found herself drifting into a daze more than once.
Zhang Yang was clearly right in front of her.
Yet for some inexplicable reason, she could sense an unreachable distance between them—visible, but impossible to touch.
Ten years apart had placed them in two different worlds.
Zhang Yang might be chatting and laughing with her now, but without their old classmate connection, she might not even have gotten the chance to meet him.
At three in the afternoon, there was a knock on the office door.
"Come in." Zhang Yang glanced over.
Driver Xiao Sun gently pushed the door open. "Chairman Zhang, I've retrieved the car."
He handed over the keys to Zhang Yang's Rolls-Royce Phantom.
"Alright. Call you if I need the car." Zhang Yang nodded and casually set the keys on the desk.
Zhou Xiaoyi