Tomorrow Will Still Love You - Chapter 2
After hanging up the phone, Pei Ning exhaled softly.
Once she mentioned Ye Xicheng and Xiang Yilin, Mrs.
Qi had finally stopped trying to set her up with Qi Jinzhou.
The screen dimmed, and the room sank back into darkness.
Her thoughts were tangled and restless; no matter how she turned, sleep refused to come.
It wasn’t until the end of the month, on a gray Saturday afternoon, that her boss finally returned from his trip.
Around noon, Pei Ning’s phone rang. It was Chairman Ye.
He asked if she was busy that afternoon.
She said she wasn’t.
He told her to come to the office Xicheng had just gotten back.
Her breath caught slightly before she answered that she would.
When the call ended, she sat staring at her phone, distracted.
She’d been at Huaning Group for almost a month, and this was the first time he’d be back.
In that month, he hadn’t given her a single task. The only contact they’d had
came through his secretary brief, impersonal, distant.
She shouldn’t have come back.
But how could she refuse Uncle Ye?
Two months earlier, he had flown all the way to New York to find her himself,
asking her to return and take the position as Ye Xicheng’s assistant.
Everything she had her education, her career, the life she’d built overseas
had been made possible because of his help.
Since she was five years old, Uncle Ye had been supporting her family.
If not for him, her grandparents probably wouldn’t have survived that harsh winter.
Pulling herself together, she put on light makeup and headed out.
She called for a car, but none accepted her request.
At the bus stop, she waited idly until the sound of a horn startled her.
A black SUV had stopped nearby.
Inside, a man in a pink shirt leaned against the window, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
His looks were striking, the kind of charming that knew it.
He asked if he was too handsome for her to recognize.
Pei Ning frowned slightly, searching her memory. Nothing.
She assumed he was just some bored stranger trying to flirt and ignored him.
But the man motioned for the driver to pull closer. Resting his elbow on the window,
he studied her face intently, and after a few seconds, a grin spread across his face.
He called her name.
Pei Ning turned in confusion.
Then he reminded her years ago, when she came to Beijing, he’d been the one who picked her up at the station.
The memory clicked. Jiang Yunzhao. Ye Xicheng’s friend.
He pushed open the door and gestured for her to get in, saying it was about to rain.
He offered to give her a lift, to catch up after all these years.
She hesitated briefly, asking if it would trouble him.
He waved it off with a laugh and said he was heading to Huaning anyway to find Ye Xicheng.
She climbed in, quietly admitting that she was also on her way there to report for duty.
His expression flickered. He asked if she was working at Huaning now.
She nodded. It was Chairman Ye’s arrangement.
For a moment, he was speechless, before quickly smoothing his expression.
She apologized for not recognizing him right away and noted that he looked thinner.
He chuckled, patting his stomach, saying the fat had turned into muscle.
Then he asked if Chairman Ye hadn’t given her a car.
She said she didn’t have a local driver’s license.
He told her to switch her foreign license soon, saying life in Beijing without a car was inconvenient.
She only smiled faintly and said maybe later she wasn’t even sure how long she’d be staying.
When they arrived at Huaning Tower, she looked up at the tall, mirrored building.
It hadn’t always been called Huaning. The name had changed after Ye Xicheng’s corporate restructuring.
Online speculation had once run wild some said it was just a branding move, others said it was personal.
The popular theory was that since Ye Xicheng’s family was originally from Nanjing, often abbreviated as
“Ning,” the name Huaning carried that connection.
But the real reason, no one knew.
In the elevator, Jiang pressed for the 42nd floor — the CEO’s office.
Pei Ning selected the 45th — Chairman Ye’s.
He glanced at her, curious why Chairman Ye had suddenly brought her back.
As the elevator climbed, he handed her his phone, asking for her number so they could catch up another time.
They exchanged contacts just as the doors opened on the 42nd floor.
He got off and strode toward Ye Xicheng’s office.
Inside, Ye Xicheng was in a video conference.
When he saw Jiang Yunzhao enter, he gave a brief glance but didn’t stop.
Jiang leaned on the desk, motioning for him to pause. Ye Xicheng ignored him, his hands loosely folded on his knee,
headset still on, expression calm.
Jiang sighed, grabbed a pen, and scribbled on a note:
I just ran into Pei Ning.
He slapped the note onto the desk.
Ye Xicheng’s gaze flicked to it just a brief twitch of expression before his face settled back into stillness.
Jiang stared at him, baffled. Not a word, not a hint of emotion.
Ten minutes later, the meeting ended. Ye Xicheng removed his headset.
Jiang immediately asked if he had heard what he said.
Ye Xicheng responded with a quiet yes.
Jiang threw up his hands.
So you knew she was back all along?
Ye Xicheng simply replied, he did.
Jiang laughed to himself, realizing it all made sense now. He thought Ye Xicheng didn’t know he’d been needlessly dramatic.
He joked that he’d assumed Chairman Ye would’ve sent her to the Shanghai office, not straight to Beijing.
Then he handed Ye Xicheng his phone, showing her number.
Ye Xicheng didn’t even look at it. He pushed the phone back.
No need.
Jiang blinked. You already have her number?
No.
Then what do you mean?
Ye Xicheng closed his laptop calmly. She’s my assistant.
Jiang nearly swore. His jaw dropped.
Chairman Ye’s doing?
Ye Xicheng didn’t answer, but silence was enough.
Jiang broke into a crooked smile.
Funny how things turned around back then, Chairman Ye was the one who tore them apart,
sending Pei Ning overseas just to keep them separate.
And now? He’d brought her right back, placing her by Ye Xicheng’s side again.
Ye Xicheng didn’t comment. He adjusted his watch, then stood. He had a meeting at four.
A knock came at the door.
He reached the handle just as it opened. His secretary stood outside and behind her, Pei Ning.
For a moment, everything stopped.
His gaze swept past the secretary and locked on hers.
One look.
A thousand unspoken things.
Her breath hitched. His eyes were cool, unreadable, but deep so deep that it hurt to meet them.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned away.
The secretary introduced them formally, her tone bright and professional.
Pei Ning’s voice was steady as she greeted him.
After a short pause, Ye Xicheng nodded, then instructed the secretary to show her around.
He added that his assistant Wan would handle the work handover later.
And then he left, without another glance.
Even as his presence faded down the corridor, it lingered in the air that quiet, powerful pressure she remembered too well.
She exhaled slowly. To anyone else, they were strangers now.
The secretary, however, wasn’t fooled. Working beside the CEO for years had sharpened her instincts
and that look between them hadn’t escaped her notice.
There had been gossip lately, about the mysterious new assistant Chairman Ye had handpicked.
Some even whispered that the company’s name “Huaning” had something to do with her
though they quickly dismissed it as ridiculous.
Still, after seeing that look… maybe not so ridiculous after all.
The secretary smiled politely and led Pei Ning toward a hidden door behind the bookshelf.
This, she explained, was the CEO’s private rest area his second office, really.
She swiped her card and the door opened with a quiet click.
Inside, everything was immaculate the bed perfectly made, the shelves lined with books and magazines,
the desk stacked with neatly arranged files.
She handed Pei Ning the access card. From now on, she said, this space would be under her care.
Cleaning, organizing, keeping it ready according to his schedule.
Pei Ning hesitated. Was she also responsible for his personal matters? She thought she’d only handle business affairs.
The secretary smiled, giving a practiced excuse Assistant Wan used to handle it, but as a man,
he wasn’t as attentive to details. It would be better this way.
Pei Ning didn’t argue.
After the secretary left, silence filled the room.
She began tidying the bedside table, placing books back on the shelf.
There were cufflinks, a watch, and a scattering of letters old, yellowed envelopes, some white, some brown.
When she opened the drawer to store them, she froze.
Half the drawer was filled with letters and every single one was addressed to her childhood home.
Memories rushed back. She had written to him in grade school, in middle school countless letters she had long forgotten.
Her hand trembled slightly as she picked one up. The handwriting was clumsy,
filled with corrections and childish doodles. The postmark said she had been in third grade.
She smiled faintly, reading the words of her younger self.
Asking when he’d visit again that summer.
Asking if the girls in his class were pretty.
If he talked to them after school.
Letter after letter — all full of trivial, innocent things.
In one of the larger envelopes, she felt something stiff inside. When she opened it, a faded photograph slipped out.
A twelve-year-old girl in a white dress stood holding a pink basket, smiling awkwardly at the camera.
She winced.
What had possessed her to send him that?
Still, the fact that he had kept it kept all of them made her chest tighten.
She read every letter, one by one. The childish words, the small talk, the clumsy affection all of it frozen in time.
Dozens of them.
And in three of them, she found her own heart laid bare.
She set those aside.
If he ever married someday, would he still keep them? Or would he throw them away?
After a long pause, she slipped the three letters into her bag and closed the drawer.
By the time she finished organizing, the sun had set.
The office outside was quiet. She waited for the handover meeting, idly flipping through one of his magazines.
An article caught her eye about community-supported agriculture, a concept not yet common in China.
The photo of fresh green cucumbers hanging under sunlight stirred an old memory.
A summer long ago, in her grandparents’ garden.
Two kids, side by side, each biting into a cucumber fresh off the vine.
She still remembered the crisp taste, the laughter, the smell of the soil after rain.
The door beeped twice. The secretary entered, carrying several freshly dry-cleaned suits.
She handed them over, explaining that Ye Xicheng was particular about his attire,
and these would need to be organized in his wardrobe.
Pei Ning nodded and thanked her.
When the secretary left, the room fell silent again.
Later that evening, Ye Xicheng returned. The lights in the outer office were off; everyone had gone home.
He assumed she had too.
He called Assistant Wan, told him to head home and finish the handover tomorrow.
Then he loosened his watch, unbuttoned his shirt, and walked toward the rest room.
He’d just flown back that morning, and exhaustion and something deeper was beginning to settle in.