I'm Just Getting Your Luck - Chapter 21
A Gesture of Love
Zhou Chenyi’s presence was impossible to ignore. The moment he stepped into the company, all eyes were drawn to him—his aura was that striking.
His lunch? A humble meal that Yingyu had gone to the cafeteria to fetch: a balanced portion of fried rice, a bowl of pork trotter soup, and a plate of chicken feet.
Just as he was about to eat, his assistant swooped in at the perfect time:
“Mr. Zhou, it must be hard to eat with your left hand. Let me feed you.”
Zhou Chenyi shifted the fried rice toward him:
“You’re left-handed too—won’t that be difficult for you?”
“I was just trying to be thoughtful.”
“Thanks, but your good intentions don’t add much value.”
He insisted on eating by himself. Xini scratched her head.
“If only Yingyu were here. What a shame she went out earlier.”
“Where to?”
“No idea. But she got picked up by a flashy Lamborghini.”
A lawyer driving that kind of car?
Whether the lawyer owned it or not was unclear, but the driver was Zhu Yinghan.
He took Yingyu to a Thai restaurant. She really enjoyed the grilled pork neck dipped in sweet sauce and devoured the whole plate by herself.
Zhu Yinghan didn’t touch the food. Yingyu felt awkward.
“Aren’t you eating?”
“I’ve got Fashion Week abroad next month—training mode, no indulgence.” He ordered another plate. “But if you eat it, that counts as me enjoying it too.”
“Thanks.” Yingyu knew it wasn’t cheap. “By the way, I sent you the money for your hair coloring last time, why didn’t you accept it?”
The salon was famous and pricey—celebs went there. She had transferred ¥10,000 to him.
“Our company partners with that salon. One appointment means nothing.”
The hair topic ended there. He had more pressing matters.
Last time, Zhou Chenyi had someone leak Zhu Yinghan’s company data. Some major deals fell through, and contracts were canceled with heavy penalties.
Zhu Yinghan wasn’t blameless—corruption had existed in his company—but he believed Zhou Chenyi had done it to challenge him.
He refused to back down.
So he came to Yingyu to dig for information.
“Do you know who the girl is in the photo on Zhou Chenyi’s phone case?”
Yingyu was confused.
Zhu Yinghan showed her a magazine photo. Zhou Chenyi sat calmly, smiling slightly—nothing special, except that the phone case he held had a photo of a girl on it.
Yingyu blinked.
Wait… isn’t that me?
Zhu Yinghan held the photo up next to her face, trying to compare. Yingyu started to panic.
“It’s definitely not you,” he declared.
“…Why?”
“In an interview, he said it’s an old classmate. Said he’s known her for years and has kept that photo since forever… Maybe someone from high school? Middle school? Elementary? So he’s had a crush since way back!”
“Actually—”
“I know! It must be Guo Baiwei! They were super close in school. I always wondered why his grades slipped—it was love!”
“Who’s Guo Baiwei?”
“Our high school classmate. Later studied abroad. There’s a class reunion coming up—she RSVP’d.”
Zhu Yinghan was convinced he’d unearthed a big secret.
“If Zhou Chenyi’s playing dirty, I’m not holding back either!”
Yingyu didn’t really understand why he was getting so worked up. After lunch, he dropped her off at work and handed her two talent show job offers—free time perks. She sent them to her friend Long Qiuqiu.
But surprisingly, Qiuqiu didn’t reply.
Instead, she got a visit from Zhou Chenyi.
He stood dramatically at the department door, plastered arm visible.
“The boss drags his injured body to work, and his employees go off gallivanting.”
Yesterday, someone had said they’d take care of his meals, but now they’d vanished.
Yingyu looked at his arm.
“Didn’t I just leave for lunch?”
“I ate so slowly with my left hand that the soup was cold by the time I got to it.”
“I can’t exactly reheat soup with my mind.”
She offered a weak apology:
“Sorry. My bad. I sincerely apologize.”
“That’s it?”
“What else do you want?”
He was going to say her instant noodles were surprisingly good when Yingyu suddenly took out a golden pen.
“I’m injured! Don’t mess with me!”
“Just hold still and everything will be fine.”
Before he could react, she cornered him against the glass door, uncapped the pen, and wrote boldly on his cast:
“Will never deliver pig trotter soup to Zhou Chenyi again — Ying Yuliu”
Underneath it, she drew a tiny pig.
Zhou Chenyi: “…”
“It’s adorable.” Yingyu admired her work.
Just then, Zhang Le passed by.
“What are you guys doing?”
“Oh, Mr. Zhou’s in a cast, so I wrote a motivational message!” She turned, eager. “Le-ge, wanna add something?”
“How can I? He’s the boss! Sacred hands, not to be defiled.”
Yet he grabbed the pen. “Is this permanent ink? Wait, I’ve got 120 colors at my desk!”
Word spread fast.
Soon, people from every department were lining up to write on his cast. Everyone wanted to “show love” to Mr. Zhou.
Someone asked, “Why’s everyone writing?”
“It’s part of the new attendance policy! Write on the cast, or miss your bonus!”
“What?? That’s messed up… but classic Zhou Bapi. Wait—what if I forget my message? Should I tattoo it?”
“No worries, he’s got pens ready.”
Another whispered, “Did you hear?”
“What?”
“Mr. Zhou’s dying!”
“WHAT?!”
“Yup. Elbow dislocation, brain trauma, advanced br3ast cancer. He’s hanging on just to say goodbye!”
People wept. The office filled with mournful cries and erhu music from someone’s playlist.
Chen Yisheng sat at his desk, dazed. First week on the job, and he was already hearing his boss was terminal.
Xini arrived with a bouquet of carnations.
“There’s no room left on the cast… should we sign his shirt?”
“No!” Yingyu defended, “His clothes are expensive!”
“Sign it—we’ll wash it later.”
Zhou Chenyi snapped.
“Yingyu!!”
She blinked innocently.
“Yes, Mr. Zhou?”
Eventually, Zhou surrendered.
“Fine, sign the clothes. Just don’t make me look like a damn bulletin board.”
As everyone signed, the vibe turned into a high school graduation.
Someone clapped him on the back.
“Mr. Zhou, we’ll stick with you till the end!”
They clearly didn’t know the company’s stock had just hit an all-time high.
Zhou Chenyi sat motionless, covered in notes and doodles, staring at Yingyu’s grin.
“I didn’t mean for this to get out of hand…” she said, clearly not sorry.
That evening was payday.
To make it up to him, Yingyu invited him out for dinner.
But recovery meals meant no spicy food, no heavy oils, no rich meats, and—tragically—no jealousy.
What could he eat?
At the fancy Sichuan restaurant, the waiter tried pushing signature dishes.
Yingyu frowned and ordered two plates of stir-fried greens.
“…Seriously?” Zhou Chenyi nearly cried. “Can we at least get the famous pork knuckle?”
“Nope.” She handed him a box of whole milk. “Too fatty. Today’s lunch was your last pig’s trotter for the month.”
“I’m a grown man! How do I survive on just veggies?!”
“There’s milk too.”
“I don’t want milk. I want coffee.”
“Too bad.”
She was distracted by her phone, chatting.
Yingyu: “I looked it up—’100 Miles 7′ is a talent show, and Pian Su is one of the mentors. I love him!”
Qiuqiu: “I know. Just asking if you’re free.”
Yingyu: “I’m making time. Even if Jiang Jiuji finds out, I’ll crawl my way to the auditions!”
Qiuqiu: “It’s a little late for Sister Cat though…”
With only veggies, the meal ended quickly.
They headed out. Her electric scooter was parked across the overpass.
Zhou Chenyi, sipping milk, teased:
“Still chatting with Yu Chaonan? One meal wasn’t enough?”
“Huh? That wasn’t him—my sister messaged me.”
She mentioned Jiang Jiuji, and Zhou Chenyi instantly chimed in with random facts.
“I’ve been to his place. Not much to steal, but there’s a skull in the study—pretty wild.”
Yingyu rolled her eyes.
“I’m not robbing him. I just like his home gym.”
Zhou scoffed.
“I’ve got a bigger one at home, same equipment.”
“You don’t use it.”
“…I’m busy running the company. Didn’t you see how much the staff loves me? My cast is practically a monument.”
He guided her past a curb, arm around her shoulder.
It was loud and crowded—cars honking, kids screaming, bikes parked everywhere.
They had to lean in to hear each other.
Zhou showed off the cast again.
“This one’s from a coder I recruited—she helped build the app. That one’s from someone in ops—pulled an all-nighter fixing bugs. That’s from Accountant Li. Studying for her exam but still doing great work.”
“Wait… I thought you said your accountant’s last name was Zhen?”
“…Big company. Multiple accountants. Open the scooter lock. My arm’s killing me.”
He sat on the back like it was a Ferrari, catching stares from stylish passersby.
Then Yingyu suddenly hit the brakes. Zhou jerked forward, bumping into her—and pressed his bad arm.
“Ow—what now?!”
She was scanning the crowd.
“I heard someone calling for help. Stay here!”
“Wait—Yingyu!”