Chapter Thirty-Six: The Gathering Storm

After the speech concluded, the sky had grown dim. Though early spring was not as cold as winter, the biting wind still prompted Mo Qinghan, who had just stepped out of the gymnasium, to wrap her coat tightly around herself. She had barely taken a few steps before Dai Yawen, her roommate, called out, “Qinghan, the counselor said, ‘Our department head wants to see you—he’s waiting in his office!’”

“Did the counselor mention what it was about?” Mo Qinghan asked.

Dai Yawen shook her head. “She didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.”

“All right. Thank you, Yawen.” With that, Mo Qinghan hurried off in the direction of the department head’s office.

Arriving breathlessly, Mo Qinghan found the door closed. She knocked while trying to catch her breath. The department head opened the door; seeing it was her, he smiled kindly. “Come in, come in…”

Director Yang was a man approaching fifty, about one meter seventy tall. His appearance was unremarkable, yet he exuded the unmistakable aura of a scholar.

Inside the office, apart from herself, there were four others. Mo Qinghan recognized only one—Zhao Qingwu.

Zhao Qingwu stood as soon as Mo Qinghan entered, gesturing for her to sit beside him. She chose not to, instead taking a seat next to a girl sitting opposite him. Zhao Qingwu, noticing this, moved to stand by the girl, giving her a look that she immediately understood. Silently, the girl rose and took Zhao Qingwu’s original seat.

Mo Qinghan glanced at Director Yang, hesitated for a moment, her lips moved but she said nothing. She coughed to ease the awkwardness, adjusted her glasses and said, “Everyone present is among the rare talents of their departments. Today, Mr. He Zheyu has come to our university intending to recruit promising individuals like you. The principal has already arranged a banquet at the North Garden Villa for this occasion, so Mr. He can get to know you all.”

Upon hearing this, Mo Qinghan asked, “Director Yang, is it possible not to go?”

“Why wouldn’t you go? This is a wonderful opportunity! Do you realize how many graduates each year scramble for a chance to join He’s Corporation?”

Zhao Qingwu replied with a hint of disdain, “Exactly! Let’s meet this legendary Mr. He!” His ambiguous gaze swept across Mo Qinghan’s face. At that moment, a breeze wafted in from outside. Mo Qinghan’s hair fluttered, partially revealing a faint red mark on her neck—the mark left by He Zheyu. Zhao Qingwu caught sight of it instantly, and his finely sculpted face turned cold; even his dark, beautiful eyes grew frosty.

Noticing how quickly Zhao Qingwu’s demeanor changed, Mo Qinghan realized he had seen the mark He Zheyu had deliberately left on her neck. She immediately stood up and said to Director Yang, “Let’s go, then. Please, lead the way!” She followed closely behind Director Yang, while Zhao Qingwu tried several times to pull her aside and ask whether she had done this on purpose to provoke him, but to no avail.

On the way, Mo Qinghan suddenly understood. This dinner, officially meant to recruit talents, was in truth a warning to Zhao Qingwu: He Zheyu wanted to remind him that Mo Qinghan, inside and out, belonged to He Zheyu. He should not covet what was not his—neither things nor people. Even if He Zheyu eventually grew tired of her, she would still carry his mark—that was an unalterable fact.

With this realization, Mo Qinghan fell silent, thinking to herself, “Tonight’s meal will surely be anything but peaceful.”