President Ji’s Cat - Chapter 23.1

Initially, Fu Sixue’s emotions hadn’t wavered much when Shen Tang mentioned finding her a slot on a variety show. She knew from experience that things didn’t always go according to plan in this industry.

However, Ji Chufeng had proactively brought it up as well. Given the President’s assertive and certain attitude, although Fu Sixue remained indifferent on the surface, she had secretly begun to look forward to it.

She assumed that if President Ji had said so, the show was a “done deal.” After all, this new CEO had a very different approach compared to the previous person in charge, who usually just muddled through things.

Or so she thought—

But when the news that the contract had fallen through came from Shen Tang, the taste of hope turning into disappointment lingered. Even if she said nothing, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of letdown.

Her computer screen was still paused on the latest episode of the variety show in question. Hearing that the show featured prank segments, Fu Sixue had watched several episodes to better prepare herself.

Now, it seemed, that effort was unnecessary.

Hearing a knock, her assistant rose to open the door, stealing a glance at Fu Sixue, who had been staring blankly into space for quite some time.

“President Ji…” Li Qingman opened the door and, seeing Ji Chufeng standing there, couldn’t help but let out a surprised cry.

This exclamation pulled Fu Sixue’s thoughts back. She looked toward the door.

In her memory, she usually saw Ji Chufeng in formal business attire; it seemed the only time she had seen her in casual clothes was during their dinner. Seeing Ji Chufeng in the office today without her blazer made her a bit surprised.

The President seemed to be in a hurry; she had forgotten her suit jacket and was only wearing a high-necked base layer, making her figure look even more slender.

Fu Sixue closed her laptop as she watched Ji Chufeng walk in. Li Qingman closed the door and stepped out.

“President Ji,” she greeted, her voice still lacking much emotion.

Ji Chufeng had intended to come over directly, but she changed her mind en route and detoured to the Public Relations department.

Ever since the photos of them at the bar were leaked, she had instructed PR to investigate. After a series of “friendly” negotiations, the forum was finally willing to hand over the data on the original poster.

However, the information found was unsatisfactory. It was a newly registered account. The poster was very cunning; the identity used for registration belonged to an elderly person. That person obviously wouldn’t be surfing the web, let alone posting industry scoops.

No matter how she looked at it, it felt premeditated.

Arriving at the PR department, Ji Chufeng had pushed the door open without warning. Inside, the staff were huddled together chatting and enjoying afternoon tea. Clearly not expecting a sudden intrusion, they were about to snap at whoever it was when they saw the visitor. The silence was immediate, their smiles freezing on their faces.

“Quite a lively atmosphere,” Ji Chufeng said, crossing her arms. She was smiling, but it was more terrifying than a scowl.

The staff immediately dropped their food. “Pre… President Ji!”

Ji Chufeng swept her gaze over them, finally landing on the PR Manager. She gave him a single look, then turned and walked toward his office.

Lazy, inefficient. Those were the labels President Ji had pinned on the PR department.

She had given the manager a chance, but now that a new problem had arisen and he still hadn’t found the culprit, she had lost her patience.

“President Ji, we followed the clues, but they all led to dead ends… the enemy is too cunning!”

“Mm. You’re right.” Ji Chufeng listened to his long-winded excuses. Just as the manager thought he might get away with it again, he heard her say: “Write your resignation and leave today.”

“…Huh???” The manager froze.

Ji Chufeng had no interest in hearing more. She brushed a crease from her trousers and walked out of the office. It seemed Xingyao wasn’t just rotten at the top; it was rotten to the core. Fortunately, she had a backup plan; a new PR manager would be starting soon.

The only issue was how to explain the failed gig to Fu Sixue. The President, who had boasted so confidently before, was actually feeling a rare sense of worry.

Seeing Fu Sixue’s calm demeanor now didn’t put Ji Chufeng at ease. She looked at her and pulled out a chair to sit across the desk.

“You heard about the show?”

Fu Sixue nodded.

Ji Chufeng saw no change in her expression. She was almost too calm.

After thinking for a moment, a possibility took root in her mind. She asked tentatively, “Did you know this would happen?”

“…” Fu Sixue’s interlaced fingers twitched. Noticing the movement, Ji Chufeng struck while the iron was hot. “The gig was intercepted by Fengyu Media. I think you might have anticipated this possibility. Am I right?”

Fu Sixue remained silent, lifting her eyelids to look at Ji Chufeng. She was hesitating. She felt that if she spoke… she wasn’t ready to reveal everything yet.

Ji Chufeng didn’t rush her. Her mind worked quickly, linking a series of events together as she patiently guided her.

“You are a part of Xingyao now, and as the owner, I should be informed about work-related issues so I can solve them effectively.” She paused and added, “Everyone has things they’d rather not say. If you don’t want to talk, I’ll ask, and you only need to answer ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ You don’t need to elaborate.”

She locked eyes with Fu Sixue. “Those trending topics from before—do you know who was behind them?”

“…” Fu Sixue hesitated for three seconds. “Yes.”

“Was it the same person every time?”

“Yes.”

“And the scandals from the past few years—were they spread by that person too?”

“Yes.”

Ji Chufeng went quiet for a moment. “That person is… your father?”

“…” Fu Sixue bit her lip and denied it instantly: “No.”

Hearing the denial, Ji Chufeng felt a wave of relief, but it only lasted a second before the woman added: “Legally, we no longer have any relationship.”

Ji Chufeng was momentarily stifled. It seemed she had misphrased the question.

She had considered this possibility but had quickly dismissed it. Although she didn’t know why Fu Sixue had severed ties with her parents, she found it hard to believe that parents would treat their daughter this way—after all, blood is thicker than water.

But based on Fu Sixue’s attitude, her dismissed theory was correct.

“Why?” she asked urgently.

“…” Fu Sixue fell silent again. She looked down at the desk, her fingers wringing together unconsciously, betraying her emotions: tension, unease, and a lack of trust.

Ji Chufeng slowed down. “Can you tell me?” She was curious—could there really be a father in this world more absurd than Ji Shengjun? Even a tiger doesn’t eat its own cubs.

Fu Sixue saw the curiosity. Regarding the fallout years ago, she didn’t want to recall how she had survived it. Many people wanted to know and had asked, but she knew there were no secrets in the entertainment industry. Once she spoke, it would quickly become a bargaining chip. She had never told anyone.

She knew Ji Chufeng was asking out of curiosity, but she still couldn’t lower her guard and trust someone.

“Won’t you say?” Ji Chufeng frowned. Being left hanging like this was a terrible feeling.

Fu Sixue bit her lip and looked at her. “President Ji, are you asking me as ‘President Ji’?”

The moment she said it, she wasn’t even sure why she asked. Aside from being her boss, what other identity could she have? The question was inherently a bit funny.

Out of curiosity, Ji Chufeng wanted to say yes immediately, but her rationality allowed her to suppress that urge. She chewed on the deeper meaning behind the question.

“If I say yes, will you tell me?” she asked.

“I will,” Fu Sixue replied, her expression tightening, her eyes devoid of warmth. “Since it involves work, I cannot hide it.”

It was “cannot,” not “would not.”

Ji Chufeng watched her for a while and suddenly laughed, effectively conceding. She shook her head. “You want to hide it.”

“Never mind. Whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’m always ready to listen.”

Ji Chufeng was curious, but she knew that if she used her authority to force the truth out, it would only drive them further apart. If she didn’t want to speak, it must be a painful memory—why poke at the wound?

The usually overbearing President Ji seemed to have found a great deal of patience when it came to Fu Sixue.

“…” Fu Sixue wasn’t overly polite. After half a minute of silence, she said, “Thank you.”

Thank you for the understanding, and thank you for letting it go.

“Don’t mention it,” Ji Chufeng smiled. “I don’t want to be hated by you.”

Fu Sixue hadn’t felt valued like this for a long, long time. But because it was Ji Chufeng, she assumed it was just a casual remark. She looked down at the desk, her unease fading slightly, replaced by an inexplicable sense of being flustered and a touch of being overwhelmed by the favor.

“My opinion isn’t important.”

“It’s very important,” Ji Chufeng insisted stubbornly. “I don’t want you to be unhappy.” She blurted it out smoothly, as if that was the only possible answer. She even stunned herself after saying it.

“…”

The air fell into a long silence. Fu Sixue didn’t answer; she didn’t know how to.

Seeing it wasn’t the time for this, Ji Chufeng cleared her throat to move past the atmosphere.

“The production team has already signed the contract with the Fengyu trainee. Although—” Ji Chufeng paused, adding with deep meaning, “I could use some ‘methods’ to swap you back in.”

“However, I suspect you don’t really want to go now anyway.”

Since the President said so, Fu Sixue naturally wouldn’t try to boost her own value. She said, “I will follow the company’s arrangements.”

“Excellent.”

President Ji was very satisfied. She stood up to leave, and Fu Sixue rose to see her out. At the door, Ji Chufeng stopped and suddenly turned. “Did they do something very terrible to make you sever ties with them?”

Fu Sixue stopped and looked at her. The moment their eyes met, she saw the purity in Ji Chufeng’s eyes and involuntarily nodded.

“Oh.” Ji Chufeng didn’t press further. She didn’t know the details, but from the reaction, she knew it wasn’t anything good.

“Alright then.” Sensing the other woman’s thoughts were in a mess, Ji Chufeng instinctively reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Fu Sixue’s ear. “I’m here now. No one will bully you again.”

The gesture and the expression were so natural that Fu Sixue had the fleeting illusion that Ji Chufeng was comforting a girlfriend. She quickly looked away.

Ji Chufeng: “…” Did I say something wrong again?

She felt a bit puzzled. For the first time, she doubted her own charm. Why was her charm, so praised by outsiders, seemingly useless against Fu Sixue?

Just as she was about to leave, she caught a glimpse of the ear she had just touched. The tip was bright red, making the tiny mole stand out.

Oh. She’s shy.

Ji Chufeng’s frustration vanished. She winked at Fu Sixue. “Can you make good on that dinner you owe me now?”

Fu Sixue replied calmly, “Anytime. Which restaurant would President Ji like?”

Fu Sixue had asked once after their last dinner, but Ji Chufeng, wanting to keep her on the hook, had made an excuse to push it back.

Ji Chufeng tucked her hands behind her back, tilted her head, and smiled. “How about I eat your home cooking?”

Her attempt at being cute wasn’t accepted. Fu Sixue grabbed the door handle, the redness on her ear fading. She declined: “Sorry, it’s not convenient.”

Tsk.

“Restaurant chefs cook better than I do. I should still treat President Ji at a restaurant.” To avoid appearing too cold, Fu Sixue added that extra sentence.

“Fine.” Ji Chufeng dropped the act and reached for the door handle, her hand happening to overlap with Fu Sixue’s. Almost instinctively, Fu Sixue’s hand escaped.

She opened the door and waved. “We’ll have that dinner another time when you’re free.”

After Ji Chufeng left, Fu Sixue unconsciously touched the back of the hand that had been brushed. Though the temperature was normal, it felt oddly scorching.