Chapter 6

Chapter 6

That autumn, the embodied intelligence and AI sectors entered a brutal period of commercial consolidation.

The early days of hype and speculation had long since faded, and the top unicorns-those actually producing mass-production data-began to absorb capital like a sponge.

Following a massive retreat of US dollar funds and the continued tightening of purse strings by local Limited Partner institutions, the venture capital circle was trapped in a long, liquidity-starved winter.

It was at this critical juncture, with the entire company facing a fundraising drought, that a savior appeared.

At the time, I didn’t know who she was.

When the young woman arrived with a massive family trust fund in tow, Director Zheng was all smiles and hospitality, the wrinkles on his face practically blossoming with joy.

So, when I learned he had decided to put me in charge of liaising with such a heavyweight investor, I still found it somewhat hard to believe.

Ni Jingzhi said she would be staying in Shanghai for the next six months.

This meant that project preparations, report communications, and a whole series of tasks would bring us together frequently.

Initially, I maintained a strictly professional attitude. I followed the company’s highest standards for Limited Partner maintenance, providing regular progress reports and sending holiday gifts.

As time passed, she would occasionally contact me in a private capacity, asking for help with minor, trivial matters.

By the time I realized what was happening, we had developed a relationship where we often went shopping together and shared recommendations for new products.

To be honest, Ni Jingzhi didn’t put on airs.

She spoke with a lively Beijing accent that had a soft, mellow tone, much like the osmanthus trees in late autumn Shanghai-the fragrance they dropped was gentle yet lingering.

But work was work. After drifting in this industry for several years, I wasn’t naive enough to let such seemingly warm, superficial interactions make me forget the boundary between friendship and professional courtesy.

As a perfect service-side Vice President, I catered to her needs and provided emotional value. However, that didn’t mean I would mistake this intimacy, wrapped in financial interests, for an equal friendship.

In this inexplicably close relationship, I always maintained the position of an observer who could withdraw at any time.

This was why, when that humiliating scene occurred, I was able to retain a final shred of reason and avoid losing my composure on the spot.

It was a weekend.

She had invited me to a gathering, saying she wanted to introduce me to an investor friend who held significant capital.

When I arrived, I received a message from Ni Jingzhi saying she would be a little late.

After her friends gave me a brief greeting, they huddled together to chat.

At this time of year, the terrace was actually quite chilly in the evening. Two girls in backless dresses were particularly eye-catching.

Under the twinkling night lights, the girls chatted idly in somewhat affected Beijing accents.

Since Ni Jingzhi hadn’t arrived yet, I pulled my trench coat tighter and sat to the side to enjoy the night view, a complete outsider.

Then, someone suddenly brought up the “Sugar Daddy PPT” that had gone viral in Beijing’s university circles a few years back.

“They say he kept her for three whole years and spent a fortune. From her junior year on, that girl barely lived in the dorms. Before graduation, he even sorted out jobs for several of her close classmates. Everyone in M University’s School of Economics and Management knew about it back then.”

“And then the girl dumped him the moment she graduated to go abroad!”

“Why?”

“Who knows? Maybe she climbed onto an even higher branch?”

Someone chuckled and chimed in, “You can’t really put it that way. Since they could never get married anyway, leaving after squeezing him for enough seems pretty smart.”

“If you ask me, Jingzhi is the unlucky one. Her family arranges a marriage match, and she ends up with a guy like that. Even if it’s not set in stone yet, being associated with that kind of reputation is definitely disgusting.”

“That’s true, but nothing is official yet.”

“It’s better that it’s not. If I were her, I’d leave that man hanging too.”

The topic shifted abruptly as one of the girls suddenly turned around to look at me, as I had remained silent the whole time.

“Hey, girl, Jingzhi said you’re from M University too? Have you heard about this?”

I nodded.

“See? See? What did I just say?”

I looked up, my tone flat, almost mechanical.

“But it wasn’t three years.”

“What?”

“It was six years and six months.”

The atmosphere froze instantly.

All sorts of skeptical and ambiguous looks were cast my way.

Only one straightforward girl in a backless dress was too caught up in the gossip to notice. She pressed further.

“Then the info doesn’t match up.”

“No, wait, that girl broke up with him right after graduation. The PPT said they got together in their sophomore year.”

Someone beside her started nudging her with an elbow, but she didn’t notice. She even hooked her arm around that person’s and moved her chair closer to me, asking curiously, “How do you know the details so well? Do you know her? Hey, tell me, what does she look like?”

The night wind blew the stray hairs away from my forehead. I slowly turned around to meet her eyes, my voice devoid of any emotion.

“I know her. As for what she looks like…”

I paused, looking directly at her.

“She looks exactly like what you’re seeing right now.”

With that, I picked up my bag and walked away.