Qiu Yingying is reborn and bound to a learning system.

She gripped her phone tightly, her fingertips turning white, and tried to keep her voice calm and clear: "Mr. Meng, hello, this is Qiu Yingying. I lost my composure in the meeting room just now, I apologize. Regarding what you mentioned this morning, I think we might be able to have a proper discussion. Actually, I've been deliberately avoiding this matter, always thinking that I'd forget about it when I was busy, but now I realize that running away is completely useless."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone—not a deathly silence, but a thoughtful, lingering silence, as if one could imagine his fingertips tracing the table. "Okay." Meng Yanchen's voice was emotionless, yet strangely penetrating. "Are you free now? I'll have someone reserve the meeting room for us, or you can book a place."

"No need to trouble you," Qiu Yingying immediately refused. She thought that her deliberately distant tone concealed a hint of panic that she herself was unaware of. "It's fine to talk on the phone. I don't think there's any need to meet in person to discuss this."

There was a moment of silence on Meng Yanchen's end before he slowly spoke, his tone carrying a hint of probing: "Okay, go ahead. But isn't it too hasty to say it over the phone? Perhaps some things are clearer when discussed face-to-face."

Qiu Yingying's heartstrings were gently plucked. She could hear the implication in his words, but dared not respond. She could only bite the bullet and continue, "President Meng, first of all, I want to tell you that what happened that night was an accident. I drank too much that day, and my emotions and reason were not in control. I can roughly guess what happened to you, so you don't need to feel guilty. You didn't do anything wrong. Before, I kept trying to fill my time with work to avoid this matter, but now I realize that this will only leave the problem unresolved. It's better to be open about it so that everyone can feel at ease."

"You remembered now? I only remember someone running very fast," Meng Yanchen said with a smile.

Qiu Yingying's cheeks flushed slightly, thankfully he couldn't see it through the phone. "Yes, I remember the key parts," she said vaguely, not wanting to go into the details that made her anxious. "But it's all in the past. I called you today to make things clear. Let's treat what happened that night as a misunderstanding, an accident. We don't need to dwell on it. Running away won't solve anything; only by talking it out can we truly turn the page."

She paused, deliberately emphasizing her words as if to encourage herself: "I know you might feel apologetic, but there's really no need. We're all adults, and everyone has moments when they lose control. The responsibility isn't solely yours. I don't want this to affect our working relationship, and I certainly don't want it to become a burden for either of us. Before, I used being busy to numb myself, but that was just self-deception. Now I want to face it squarely and let it go."

"I will continue to be as responsible and dedicated as ever for Guokun's project, leading the team to make the best possible solution. I will not slack off because of personal grudges." This is the bottom line she must uphold. "Similarly, I hope you can prioritize your work and not have any prejudice against the project because of this matter."

Meng Yanchen fell silent again, this time for an even longer time, long enough for Qiu Yingying to hear her own heartbeat, exceptionally clear in the quiet café. Just as she was about to ask, he spoke again, his voice much lower, carrying an indescribable, complex emotion—like guilt, or something else entirely: "Team Leader Qiu, you... are very different. I thought you would choose to keep avoiding it, or... would have some other reaction."

"Other reactions?" Qiu Yingying asked instinctively, then immediately regretted it. Wasn't this just actively pulling each other apart?

"For example, questioning, or... demanding something." Meng Yanchen's voice was soft, yet it brushed against my heart like a feather. "You are very honest, and also... insightful."

Qiu Yingying's heart pounded even faster. She could hear the appreciation in his tone, an appreciation that made her inexplicably uneasy. "Mr. Meng, you flatter me," she quickly steered the conversation back on track. "People grow. Avoiding problems solves nothing; it only deepens the knots in your heart. Let bygones be bygones. We're all working professionals; we should be able to distinguish between public and private matters, and we should have the courage to face problems head-on."

"What I want to say is that I won't dwell on what happened that night, and I hope you can too." She bit her lip, clearly expressing her stance. "Let's continue living our own lives, focusing on our work and lives, and pretend this never happened. What do you think?"

On the other end of the phone, Meng Yanchen leaned back in his office chair, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the pearl hair clip in his drawer. The cool touch calmed him slightly. Looking at the sunlight outside the window, the image of her hastily fleeing the conference room flashed through his mind—the arc of her skirt sweeping across the floor, her flushed ears, and the fleeting helplessness in her eyes as she turned away. Comparing this to her calm and composed voice on the phone now, yet occasionally betraying a hint of panic, a complex mix of emotions welled up within him.

He had considered many possibilities, but he never expected her to face the past so readily, frankly admit that she had run away from it, yet also cleanly draw a line between them.

The more resolute her tone became, the clearer his inexplicable curiosity grew. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were unfocused as she leaned against him, muttering words he couldn't understand. Her fingertips unconsciously gripped his suit jacket. That soft and vulnerable demeanor was completely different from the calm and insightful person she was now, yet strangely overlapped with him, making it impossible for him to ignore her.

"Okay." Meng Yanchen finally agreed, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "I respect your opinion. You're right, running away won't help; facing it head-on is the only way to let go. In my work, I will handle things officially and won't be biased because of this."

"Thank you for your understanding, Mr. Meng." Qiu Yingying breathed a sigh of relief, her tone softening slightly, and her tense shoulders relaxed a little. "Regarding the project details, I will have my assistant coordinate with your assistant. If we need to communicate, we can do so through a working meeting."

"Okay." Meng Yanchen paused, as if hesitating, then added, "But, Team Leader Qiu," he deliberately slowed his speech, each word carrying a subtle weight, "if you need anything in the future, or... if you change your mind, you can always contact me. You can save my number."

Qiu Yingying's heart skipped a beat. His words, like a fine needle, gently pierced the calm she had been trying to maintain. She could hear the deeper meaning in his words; it wasn't just simple politeness, but an implication of a promise. "Thank you, Mr. Meng," she said, avoiding the core issue and keeping her tone as calm as possible, "Regarding work matters, I will handle things according to procedure."

"Okay." Meng Yanchen didn't ask any further questions, but simply responded softly, "Then if there's nothing else, I won't bother you any longer."

Goodbye, Mr. Meng.

After hanging up the phone, Qiu Yingying held it tightly, the warmth of the receiver still lingering on her fingertips, her heart pounding relentlessly. Meng Yanchen's last words had stirred ripples in her heart like a pebble, refusing to dissipate.

She looked up at the bustling street outside the café window, the sunlight shining brightly, the streets vibrant and alive. Yet, a strange emptiness lingered within her, along with a hint of panic she didn't want to admit. She shook her head vigorously, trying to clear these jumbled thoughts, picked up her bag, and stood up, heading towards her company.

Next, she needed to devote herself entirely to her work and make Guo Kun's project perfect. As for her feelings, and Meng Yanchen, she had to draw a clear line and never cross that line again.

In the top-floor office of Guokun Group, Meng Yanchen hung up the phone but didn't put it down. He stared at the three words "Qiu Yingying" on the screen, his emotions complex and unreadable. He placed the phone on the table, opened a drawer, took out the pearl hair clip, and gently stroked the cool pearl with his fingertips.

The memory of that night was originally a thorn in his heart, filled with guilt and unease. But Qiu Yingying's phone call not only dispelled those gloomy feelings but also allowed him to see her clarity and resilience. Yet, the more she showed him this, the clearer the undesirable feelings in his heart became.

"When adults face unexpected events, can they truly be at peace afterward?" Meng Yanchen murmured to himself, a barely perceptible hint of stubbornness flashing in his eyes. "Perhaps. But can some things really be forgotten so easily?"

He put the hair clip back in the drawer, composed himself, turned on his computer, and pulled up Qiu Yingying's team's proposal. No matter what, work is work, and he would handle it professionally. But as his gaze fell on the three characters "Qiu Yingying" at the end of the proposal, he couldn't help but recall her honest and firm voice on the phone, and her flustered yet ultimately determined gaze in the meeting room.

Perhaps this accident will not end so easily.

Back at the company, Qiu Yingying immediately opened the project files and threw herself into her work. This time, she didn't use busyness as an excuse to avoid the task; instead, she truly calmed down and focused on the task at hand.

For some reason, the work that used to completely immerse her in now made her somewhat absent-minded. Occasionally, when she smelled a faint scent similar to cedar drifting in from outside the window, or when she saw a suit while shopping, her heart would flutter slightly, and Meng Yanchen's voice and the emotions in his eyes would uncontrollably surface in her mind.

She pinched herself hard, forcing herself to come back to her senses.

Face the problems squarely, let go of the past, work hard, and live well.

But his refined elegance, tall stature, handsome appearance, the respect and upbringing ingrained in his bones, his pleasant voice, his well-defined fingers, and the deep, pendant eyes that looked at her through his gold-rimmed glasses—all left an extremely deep impression on her. He was the most handsome CEO she had ever seen.

She kept telling herself this, but the inexplicable flutter in her heart, like wild grass in spring, quietly took root and sprouted, leaving her somewhat at a loss.

This is the life she wanted, and this is how she truly grew up. But why did she waver when faced with Meng Yanchen's probing words?

No, she wants to make money.