The whole way, they said nothing. Zhao Linxiu, unusually quiet, asked for the exact address after Zheng Zaisheng got in the car, then focused on taking him there.
That made Zheng Zaisheng relax considerably.
He was deliberately avoiding the look he had seen yesterday.
It wasn't realistic. Zheng Zaisheng did not need to think hard for those three words to surface in his mind. They had come from the same place, both with mud still caked around their feet. Just because one had latched onto a high branch, did that mean he could kick Zheng Zaisheng eight hundred miles away? Zhao Linxiu, meanwhile, belonged to an entirely different world. Maybe it was only a passing interest. As long as Zheng Zaisheng did not respond, it would be fine.
Zheng Zaisheng believed in fairy tales least of all. He was already in his thirties, had seen plenty of life's warmth and cruelty, and knew exactly where he stood.
"Thank you, President Zhao." Zheng Zaisheng was still polite and courteous. "Be careful on your way to the company."
Zhao Linxiu waved at him. "All right. Bye."
"Bye."
Watching Zhao Linxiu's car drive away, Zheng Zaisheng let out a breath.
One should not cling to wishful hopes over things so intangible. That was also one of the secrets to happiness. His life had never been particularly smooth, so there was no need to create more troubles for himself. With that, Zheng Zaisheng talked himself through it again, bought steamed buns and soy milk downstairs, and went home happily.
Old Street had wrapped, but there was still plenty to do next, and dinner engagements came one after another.
Jiang Tingxu was too busy with company matters to attend. Si You went with Sister Chen, while Zheng Zaisheng, as both director and screenwriter, naturally had