What are you doing, Mr. President? I'm just an extra!

The moment Lu Li uttered the word "big kidney," the people in the back row reacted almost simultaneously.

Su Feiyan tapped her fingernail lightly on the phone case.

Shen Weilan buried her face in the cushion, her shoulders twitching suspiciously twice.

Ji Hanyue closed the food box tightly with a blank expression.

Yang Ningbing drew a heavy black line on the document with her pen.

No one spoke.

The van traveled south along the elevated highway in Jianghai City.

On the extra seat, Bai Xiaolu was sleeping soundly, her fluffy head resting on Lu Li's shoulder, with a suspicious, crystalline liquid spilling from the corner of her mouth, running down the cuff of his hastily put-on clean shirt and forming a map-like trail.

Lu Li took a breath, stretched out two fingers, and tried to push the heavy head toward the car window.

The moment his fingertips touched her hair, Su Feiyan, who had been resting with her eyes closed in the back row, suddenly opened them.

Those phoenix eyes were so cold and devoid of any warmth that they fell directly on Lu Li's hand, which was suspended in mid-air.

"arrive."

Su Feiyan withdrew her gaze, her voice calm and unchanging, revealing no emotion: "Have Old Zhou escort everyone back. First, take Mayor Yang to the municipal government compound, then take Sect Leader Ji back to Wenlan Road."

The tone was that of an official, business-like coordination, but inside the train carriage, it was a swift and decisive clearing of the carriage.

Yang Ningbing put away her pen, nodded politely but distantly, and got off the bus at the intersection of the city government road.

Ji Hanyue, carrying Bai Xiaolu who had been shaken awake and was still looking bewildered, stepped into the night in front of No. 17 Wenlan Road.

As for Shen Weilan, she was frozen in place by a single glance from Su Feiyan, who then had Lao Zhou arrange for a car to escort her back to her dormitory at Jiangda University.

In less than twenty minutes, only Su Feiyan and Lu Li remained inside the spacious luxury van.

Old Zhou had already discreetly raised the partition inside the car, creating a cramped and oppressive atmosphere of deathly silence.

Su Feiyan remained silent.

She crossed her legs, her slender fingers unzipping the Hermès handbag beside her, and slowly pulled out Lu Li's black smartphone.

Click.

The screen lit up and was positioned less than five centimeters in front of Lu Li's nose.

In WeChat's message list, unread notifications are a sea of ​​red, like a raging inferno.

At the very top was Shen Weilan, who had sent eleven consecutive 60-second voice messages.

The last message was extremely damaging: "Brother-in-law, if you don't reply to me, I'll post the photo of you holding hands with Mayor Yang in the neighboring city in the family group chat. Don't think that the one Old Zhou took away was the only one."

The second message was from Gu Qingcheng, who sent a silhouette photo of her profile under the stage lights, with only four words in the caption: "Waiting for you to come back."

The third one was from Ji Hanyue, and it was as concise as a sect secret order: "We don't have enough osmanthus flowers."

The fourth point is the most outrageous. Yang Ningbing sent an official letter via the official government email address with the title: "Supplementary Explanation on Fire Safety Rectification of the Chengxi Project - Please reply before 10:00 AM tomorrow."

Su Feiyan's voice was as flat as if she were reading a financial loss statement at an annual shareholders' meeting:

"Assistant Lu has a very rich social network."

"I spent two days on a business trip, covering both the political and business worlds, and even the entertainment industry and a reclusive sect."

She turned her head to the side, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips: "How about the Su family funds a secretary specifically for you to handle replying to messages?"

Lu Li's Adam's apple bobbed violently, and cold sweat instantly soaked through his shirt on his back.

In his mind, the barrage of comments exploded like a mushroom cloud:

【It's all over! It's all over! The sky is falling and the earth is cracking!】

The calmer this woman appears on the surface, the more like a Chernobyl nuclear reactor on a countdown inside!

The last time she spoke to me in this monotone tone, I was locked in my study and wrote a 30,000-word self-criticism; my wrist swelled up like a pig's trotter!

"Feiyan, I swear to God, this is absolutely all legitimate business!"

Lu Li instantly went into a state of high alert, his survival instincts were at their peak, and he placed his hands neatly on his knees, his posture even more upright than that of an elementary school student.

"My phone was in your bag the whole time. The password was my fingerprint and your birthday. You saw it clearly the whole way, and I didn't even touch it!"

Su Feiyan flipped the phone over and gently tapped her fingertips on the smooth glass back, producing a crisp tapping sound.

"Business?"

She raised one eyebrow and glanced at Lu Li's handsome face, which was full of innocence: "Yang Ningbing issued a rectification letter, I consider it official business."

"What kind of official business is it that Ji Hanyue said there's not enough osmanthus flowers?"

The car's speed inexplicably slowed down by half a beat at that moment.

Lu Li, quick-witted, hurriedly explained, "It's medicinal cuisine! The inscription on that bronze pot says that the extreme cold cultivation technique of the Supreme Palace of Forgetfulness requires pungent and warming ingredients to neutralize it. Osmanthus is a precisely measured medicinal guide; too much heat and too little cold! This is a medical kit!"

"Medical facilities?"

Su Feiyan pressed closer, leaning slightly forward, her delicate, cool fragrance mingling with an invisible pressure that overwhelmed them: "Since it's a medicinal ingredient, and she lacks osmanthus, why didn't she contact the project manager Zhou Ran? Why didn't she contact the on-site steward Wang Bo?"

"She, the dignified sect leader of the Supreme Palace of Forgetfulness, bypassed everyone else in the middle of the night to specifically ask you, the president's special assistant, for osmanthus flowers?"

Lu Li was cornered against the leather sofa, the back of his head pressed against the cold bulletproof car window, with nowhere to retreat.

His brain was practically spinning out of control, and the rant he was internally screaming was practically blasting the top of his head:

How the hell am I supposed to know why they're looking for me?!

That icy sect leader doesn't reply to anyone's messages in the mortal realm except for me!

She couldn't even find Uncle Wang's WeChat QR code! When Bai Xiaolu used my old phone to register an account for her, there were only three people in her contacts—me, Bai Xiaolu, and a Meituan Waimai (Meituan Takeout) automated customer service representative!

If she knew to ask the project team for osmanthus flowers, even sows could line up in the sky to dance ballet!

Su Feiyan's fingers, which were resting on her knees, paused slightly.

She stared at Lu Li's face, which was flushed red and seemed unable to defend himself, the hysterical phrase "Meituan customer service" echoing in her mind, and her lips twitched uncontrollably.

The chilling aura that had been gathering in his chest was momentarily dispelled by this absurd truth.

But the female CEO's aura ultimately held firm.

Su Feiyan turned around, tossed her phone back into her handbag, and zipped it up: "Back to the villa."

Half an hour later, the black van slowly drove into the garage of the Cloud Top Villa.

Stepping into the living room, Su Feiyan kicked off her shoes without even changing them properly, and coldly ordered, "Go take a shower. Wash away all that filthy smell you picked up in the neighboring city."

"Okay, I'll be right there!"

Lu Li felt as if he had been granted a pardon and rushed into the private bathroom of the second-floor guest room.

He poured hot water over his head and spent half an hour using shower gel three times, as if he wanted to scrub off a layer of skin.

When he pushed open the master bedroom door, wrapped in a bathrobe and drying his wet hair, he froze on the spot.