novelIdeaMax Chapter 1619 Affectation
Chapter 1619 Affectation
The hangover feels like someone is sanding your brain with sandpaper.
When He Han got out of bed, it was already broad daylight. The curtains weren't fully drawn, and a ray of light pierced through the gap, hitting him squarely in the face. He shielded his eyes with his hand, and the churning acid in his stomach almost killed him on the spot.
There were two bottles of mineral water on the bedside table, one empty and the other almost empty. He grabbed one and took a couple of gulps; the coolness slid down his esophagus, managing to suppress the nausea somewhat.
Around ten o'clock, the doorbell rang.
He Han didn't move.
Three more shots rang out.
"He Han, open the door, I know you're in there."
He Han dragged himself to open the door. Qin Hao stood in the doorway, carrying two breakfasts, and glanced at him.
"Wow, what kind of look is this? Even people from refugee camps have more energy and spirit than you."
He Han ignored him, turned around and walked back, then buried himself in the blankets.
Qin Hao came in by himself, put the breakfast on the table, and pulled up a chair to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Alright, stop looking like a dead man." He tore open a fried dough stick, took a bite, and mumbled, "It's just a breakup, don't act like it's the end of the world."
He Han rolled over, looking at him with a pained expression: "You don't understand."
"What don't I understand?"
"The problems between Lin Zhanqiao and me have actually been brewing for a long time. We were just deceiving ourselves, thinking that love could conquer all, thinking that time could remove the thorns from each other—"
"Stop, stop, stop." Qin Hao raised his hand to interrupt him, the grease from the fried dough stick smearing onto the back of his hand. "I'd think what you said was pretentious even if it were written into a novel, but hearing it coming out of your mouth gives me goosebumps."
He Han didn't laugh.
He stared at the ceiling and remained silent for a few seconds.
“But clearly, we were all wrong.” His voice lowered: “Love isn’t a myth; it’s just the mundane details of life.”
Qin Hao chewed on his fried dough stick and looked at him for a while.
"You guys, to put it nicely, you have deep feelings; to put it bluntly, you're just being pretentious." He put down the fried dough stick and wiped his hands with a tissue. "There are so many things that would be better if you just talked them out, but you insist on not doing that. You think that talking things out makes things meaningless, that the other person should figure it out on their own, and then you let your dissatisfaction build up little by little until finally, some random, inexplicable trigger blows you to pieces."
He Han gave a wry smile.
"You're right, it's just being dramatic."
"You know you're being dramatic, yet you're still lying there? Get up and eat first."
He Han slowly sat up, picked up a steamed bun, and took a bite. The skin was already cold, and the filling wasn't hot either; it felt like swallowing cotton in his mouth.
Qin Hao sighed when he saw his appearance.
"I have a lunch appointment with Zhou Mei, why don't you come along?"
He Han looked up at him.
Qin Hao added, "But let's make this clear beforehand: Zhou Mei and I are just helping to organize this gathering. Whether you two get back together or have a huge fight, it's none of our business. Don't get involved."
He Han held the steamed bun in his hand, but didn't take a bite.
There was a silence that lasted for about half a minute.
“Okay,” he said.
-
It was 12:30 in a private room at a Sichuan restaurant.
Zhou Mei arrived first, accompanied by Lin Zhanqiao.
Lin Zhanqiao wore sunglasses. Although she didn't take them off even after entering the private room, the puffiness around her eyes couldn't be concealed. Layers of foundation only made it more noticeable.
Zhou Mei, wearing a pale yellow dress, smiled and waved to Qin Hao as she entered, then sat down directly next to him. Lin Zhanqiao sat down opposite her, her back ramrod straight, her chin slightly raised, adopting a businesslike demeanor.
He Han was the last to come in.
He stood at the door for two seconds, then paused when he saw Lin Zhanqiao. He then walked over and sat down next to her.
There was a pot of freshly brewed tea on the table. He Han picked up the teapot, poured a cup of tea for Lin Zhanqiao, and then poured one for himself.
When the teacup was pushed in front of Lin Zhanqiao, he tapped the inside of the cup lightly twice with his fingers.
Lin Zhanqiao was all too familiar with this gesture. He Han would do this whenever he wanted to make amends—pour a glass of water, hand over something, tap his fingers twice on the side of the glass, as if silently saying, "Don't be angry."
In the past, whenever he did this, Lin Zhanqiao would always back down. She would take a sip of her drink, and then the two of them would make up. This tacit understanding lasted for several years.
But she didn't move today.
The eyes behind the sunglasses stared at the teacup for a second, then looked up.
"He Han, do you think pouring a cup of tea is enough?"
Her voice wasn't loud, but the temperature in the private room seemed to drop two degrees.
He Han withdrew his hand.
"Do you think it's always the same? You cause trouble, then pour me a glass of water, and I should be grateful and forgive you?" Lin Zhanqiao's voice slowly rose. "Do you know how ridiculous what you've done is? You're the one who made me stay, and you're the one who secretly booked a room because you thought I was in the way. What do you want from me? What do you take me for? A roommate you can summon and dismiss at will?"
He Han's face turned red.
"I need my own space—"
"Space?" Lin Zhanqiao scoffed. "We've been together for so many years, and now you're talking to me about space? You think I'm taking up your bathroom sink? You think my pillow is in the way of your pillow?"
"Can you please stop making such a big deal out of everything—"
"I'm making a mountain out of a molehill?" Lin Zhanqiao finally took off her sunglasses, revealing a pair of red and swollen eyes: "He Han, think carefully, every single thing you've done over the years, wasn't it all my idea? You even have to think about what to eat, and now you're talking to me about space?"
This sentence struck a nerve with He Han.
His temper flared up instantly.
"Yes, you make all the decisions!" He slammed his hand on the table, making the teacup rattle. "You do whatever comes to mind, never asking for my opinion, never considering my feelings! I'm a human being too, I have dignity too."
Lin Zhanqiao paused for half a second, then laughed. The laugh was more unsightly than a grimace.
"You mean being with me makes you feel undignified? He Han, ask yourself honestly, what else can you do besides writing novels? You're bad at socializing, bad at managing money, and I even have to push you to go out and meet someone. If I don't make decisions for you, who will? Wait for you to make your own decisions? By then, it'll be too late!"
"you--"
"What do you mean, 'you'? Look at yourself, indecisive and hesitant. You're so imaginative when you're writing, but when it comes to real life, you're like a lost soul!"
The air inside the private room was as tense as a fully drawn string.
Qin Hao picked up the menu and turned a page.
Zhou Mei glanced at him and lowered her voice, "Aren't you going to try to persuade him?"
Qin Hao lowered his voice and replied, "Even an upright official can't settle family disputes. If we get involved, they'll only get more excited. Let's just pretend we didn't see anything. Let's order. You must be hungry too, right?"
"Isn't this a bad idea?" Zhou Mei glanced at the two people opposite her who were practically exchanging barbs.
"There's nothing wrong with that. If two people have been dating for so many years without getting married, it means they both have problems. It's better to bring it up now than to get married and then divorced later."
Zhou Mei looked at him with a suspicious expression.
"Why do you look so experienced?"
"Ahem—" Qin Hao chuckled dryly, "Have you forgotten what I do? I go through these kinds of clichéd scenarios dozens of times a day in my mind, how could I not be experienced?"
Zhou Mei gave a half-believing "Oh" and looked down at the menu.
The war is still going on over there.
He Han started bringing up old grievances.
“I didn’t want to go to that party last year at all, but you insisted. When I got there, I didn’t know anyone and just stood in a corner all night—”
"You think I want to go? I'm just helping you expand your network! You think you can become famous just by writing books at home?"
Lin Zhanqiao was not to be outdone.
"Last time you dragged your feet on the manuscript for two months, and when I reminded you, you got upset, saying I was pressuring you to death. Do you know how much pressure I was under?"
"Your job is difficult at the company because you want to manage everything—"
"If I don't care, who will? You?"
The two of them talked back and forth, their voices growing louder and their pace faster, as if they wanted to bring up every single old grudge from the past few years.
The waiter stood at the door with the dishes, hesitant to come in.
Qin Hao stood up, walked over, took the groceries from her, and closed the door behind him.
When he returned to his seat, he happened to hear Lin Zhanqiao slam his bag on the table.
"If you don't want to move the relationship forward, then don't. Let's break up!"
He Han's face turned bright red, and the veins on his neck bulged.
"If we're breaking up, then we're breaking up! Whoever doesn't is a coward!"
The private room was silent for a second.
Then Lin Zhanqiao stood up, picked up her bag, and walked out.
He Han froze for a moment. The initial surge of energy vanished instantly, replaced by an inexplicable panic. He opened his mouth, the reason for calling her over and over in his mind, but what finally escaped his lips was something completely different—
"You said it yourself, that I can't write good works without you." He stood up, his voice trembling with emotion. "My next book will prove to you who really can't live without whom!"
Lin Zhanqiao stopped in her tracks.
She turned around, her sunglasses perched back on her nose, and her chin held even higher.
“Fine,” she said coldly. “I, Lin Zhanqiao, have never become a top editor because of any one person. I can train ten or eight authors who are better than you in no time.”
"Don't even mention ten or eight," He Han's voice rose even louder. "You'd be amazing if you could find even one."
After saying that, he subconsciously turned his head and glanced at Qin Hao.
Qin Hao was picking up boiled fish slices, his chopsticks hovering in mid-air.
“Old Qin doesn’t count!” He Han added.
Qin Hao's chopsticks trembled, and the fish slice fell back into the bowl.
Lin Zhanqiao snorted coldly.
"Okay, we'll see."
She picked up her bag again; this time, she was really leaving.
She took two steps, then stopped and turned to look at Zhou Mei.
The meaning in that look was clear—go.
Zhou Mei stopped eating, looked at Lin Zhanqiao and then at Qin Hao, looking conflicted.
Qin Hao cleared his throat.
"You two can argue all you want, but don't bother us, okay? The food's already ordered."
Lin Zhanqiao glared at him fiercely.
Qin Hao shrank back slightly from the glare, but his hands didn't stop. He picked up another piece of fish and put it in Zhou Mei's bowl, whispering, "Eat, don't waste it."
Lin Zhanqiao's gaze shifted from Qin Hao to Zhou Mei's face, lingering for two seconds.
Zhou Mei awkwardly put down her chopsticks.
Zhou Mei shifted her position in the chair and glanced at Qin Hao. Qin Hao shook his head slightly at her and then pointed with his chopsticks at the dishes on the table.
The meaning was clear—don't leave, stay and eat.
Lin Zhanqiao glared at Zhou Mei for another three seconds.
Zhou Mei shrugged, then whispered to Lin Zhanqiao, "Um... the dishes are all served, how about... we eat before we leave?"
Lin Zhanqiao did not speak.
She stood there for about five seconds, then threw her bag onto the chair and sat back down.
The atmosphere in the private room plummeted to freezing point.
Four people, two dishes of boiled fish, one dish of spicy blood curd, one serving of pork belly with minced garlic, one plate of dry-pot cauliflower, and one bowl of hot and sour soup. Steam rose up, and the smell of chili peppers was pungent.
Qin Hao placed a piece of pork belly in Zhou Mei's bowl, then ladled himself a spoonful of hot and sour soup. He ate at a leisurely pace, as if it were his own dining table.
At first, Zhou Mei was a little reserved, sneaking peeks at the person opposite her every few bites. But later, she got so hungry that she stopped caring and started eating with Qin Hao.
Neither of the two people opposite them touched their chopsticks.
He Han stared at the teacup in front of him, his fingertips tracing the rim. Lin Zhanqiao pushed her sunglasses up to her head, crossed her arms, and looked out the window. A sparrow hopped around in the sycamore tree outside the window, and she stared at it for a long time.
The private room was so quiet that only the sound of Qin Hao and Zhou Mei chopsticks touching bowls could be heard.
Qin Hao finished eating, wiped his mouth with a tissue, and took a sip of tea. Zhou Mei also put down her chopsticks and took a picture of the almost untouched dry-pot cauliflower with her phone.
“This cauliflower is pretty good,” she said softly, as if afraid of waking someone.
No one responded.
-
The next day.
He Han went to Zixing.
He showed up at the company reception without notifying anyone beforehand. He was carrying a backpack and wearing a wrinkled T-shirt, looking like a food delivery driver.
The receptionist recognized him, paused for a moment, and then quickly made a phone call.
Fifteen minutes later, He Han sat in the legal department's office and signed a termination agreement.
The scratching sound of the pen nib across the paper was particularly clear. The people in the legal department looked at each other, none daring to ask a single question.
The news spread faster than the wind.
In less than half an hour, the entire planet knew—He Han had terminated his contract.
This news was like a depth charge, causing chaos and confusion throughout the entire organization.
He Han is no ordinary author. He is the highest-earning author on Zhixing, bar none. The traffic, subscriptions, tips, and copyright revenue generated by his works alone account for nearly half of the company's total revenue. To put it bluntly, all the employees at Zhixing depend on him for their livelihood.
Is this God of Wealth now terminating his contract?
The young women in the administration department huddled together in the break room whispering, the editors gathered at their workstations and whispered amongst themselves, and even the cleaning lady vaguely sensed that something was off about the atmosphere today.
When the news reached Zhao Lanxin's ears, she was in her office discussing a contract with a new author.
Upon hearing the words "He Han terminated his contract," she stopped writing.
Are you sure?
"Confirmed. The Ministry of Justice just completed the necessary procedures."
Zhao Lanxin put down her pen, and the new author opposite her looked at her blankly.
"Sorry, let's talk another day." Zhao Lanxin stood up, skipping all pleasantries, and left the office directly.
She didn't go back to her own office, but went straight to Ling Yikai's.
Ling Yikai's office was at the end of the corridor, twice the size of the other partners' offices. When Zhao Lanxin knocked and entered, he was looking at something on his computer screen, his face bearing that perpetually inscrutable expression.
"He Han has terminated his contract," Zhao Lanxin said bluntly.
Ling Yikai leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers lightly twice on the table.
"I've heard about it."
"You're still sitting there after hearing all this?" Zhao Lanxin sat down opposite him, tossing her bag aside. "He Han is Lin Zhanqiao's trump card. With him gone, Lin Zhanqiao's performance has been halved. We have to seize this opportunity."
Ling Yikai looked at her but didn't reply.
Zhao Lanxin continued, "Lin Zhanqiao's shares alone are equivalent to all of ours combined. Why? Because she has He Han. When He Han was around, she was the cash cow of Zhixing; everyone had to respect her. But now that He Han is gone, she's not as valuable. The shares should be redistributed."
She spoke three minutes faster than usual, and her eyes held a determined look.
Ling Yikai nodded after listening.
"You have a point. But I need to think about it some more."
Zhao Lanxin stared at him for two seconds, seemingly trying to read more from his face. But with Ling Yikai, you could only ever read the part of his face that he was willing to let you read.
"Okay, then give me an answer as soon as possible." Zhao Lanxin stood up, picked up her bag, and left.
After the door closed, Ling Yikai tapped his fingertips twice on the table.
Then he picked up his phone and sent a message.
It was 7 p.m. in a private room at a Japanese restaurant near Zixing.
Ling Yikai arrived early and ordered a bottle of sake and several dishes of sashimi. He had changed into a dark blue shirt, unbuttoning the top two buttons, looking much more casual than when he was at the company.
When Lin Zhanqiao pushed the door open and came in, her face was expressionless.
"What's up?"
"Sit down, have something to eat first." Ling Yikai stood up and pulled out a chair for her.
Lin Zhanqiao did not sit down.
"Ling Yikai, just say what you mean. I'm not in the mood for beating around the bush today."
Ling Yikai glanced at her for two seconds, then sat down again.
"Okay, then I'll get straight to the point."
He took a small, dark blue square box from his shirt pocket and placed it on the table. It was a flip-top box, made of velvet. He opened the lid—
A diamond ring.
When the light shines down, the diamond refracts into tiny, fragmented sparkles.
Lin Zhanqiao's eyebrows furrowed slightly.
"Ling Yikai, are you crazy?"
“I’m not crazy.” Ling Yikai leaned back in his chair, his tone as calm as if he were discussing a quarterly report: “Think about it, He Han is gone, and your importance at Zhengxing will change immediately. Zhao Lanxin already came to see me today; she wants to redistribute the shares. Do you think she can do it alone? Who knows who’s behind her.”
"so what?"
“So marry me.” Ling Yikai tapped his fingers on the table. “My shares plus yours will exceed Zhao Lanxin’s. Then we’ll kick her out, and Zhixing will be both ours.”
The private room was quiet. The sounds of clinking glasses and muffled laughter came from the next table.
Lin Zhanqiao looked down at the diamond ring.
It's very bright and beautiful. It has many facets, and each facet reflects light.
She reached out and closed the box.
"Ling Yikai, don't you know what you are in my eyes?"
Ling Yikai's expression remained unchanged.
"You think I'll be grateful and nod in agreement just because you slam a broken ring on the table? What do you take me for? Do you all think I, Lin Zhanqiao, am some pawn you can manipulate?"
That's not what I meant—
"That's what you mean!" Lin Zhanqiao's voice rose, abruptly silencing the laughter from next door. "What's the difference between you and Zhao Lanxin? She wants to reduce my shares, and you want to exchange a ring for them. You're both eyeing my interests, so what's with the pretense of affection?"
She picked up her bag and stood up.
“Lin Zhanqiao—”
"Stop with your tricks." Without turning her head, she said, "If you try anything like that again, we're not even colleagues anymore."
The sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the hallway for a long time.
The waitress stood at the doorway with the dishes, unsure whether to go in or out. Ling Yikai waved his hand, signaling her to put them down.
He sat alone in the private room, staring at the diamond ring for a long time.
Then he poured the wine and drank a glass himself.
-
After leaving the Japanese restaurant, Lin Zhanqiao did not go home.
She went straight to the company.
At 9 PM, most of the lights in the office area of Zhixing were off, except for the emergency light at the end of the corridor, which glowed green. Lin Zhanqiao swiped his card and entered the office area; his footsteps were particularly clear in the empty corridor.
She walked into the conference room and turned on all the lights.
The fluorescent light flickered twice before stabilizing, its white light glaringly bright.
She turned on her computer and pulled up the list of authors overseen by all her editors. Then she sent a message to all the editors in the department: "Tomorrow morning at 10:00, in the conference room, everyone be present."
After sending the message, she leaned back in her chair and covered her face with her hands.
My fingers are cold.
She sat there for a long time, so long that the fluorescent light tubes started flickering again.
……
The next morning at 10 a.m., there were more than a dozen people sitting in the conference room.
Lin Zhanqiao had six editors working under her, plus the author representatives they each oversaw—most of whom were newcomers who had signed contracts but hadn't yet produced any notable works. The meeting room was stuffy, filled with the smell of coffee mixed with shampoo.
Lin Zhanqiao sat in the main seat, with a stack of printed data reports spread out in front of her.
"You all know about He Han's contract termination," she began, her voice regaining its usual crispness and efficiency. "I don't intend to hide it from you. He Han's departure is a loss for the company, but for you, it's an opportunity."
She glanced around at everyone present.
"With He Han gone, we've freed up a significant resource. This resource will be redistributed. Who can take it over depends on the ability of the authors you have."
The editors looked at each other.
An editor named Chen Wei raised his hand. He had been at Zhixing for over three years, his seniority was neither particularly high nor low, he had seven or eight authors under his supervision, and his performance was mediocre.
"Mr. Lin, to be honest," Chen Wei pushed up his glasses, "an author of He Han's caliber isn't someone you can just cultivate. There are very few in the entire online literature world who can simultaneously reach that level in terms of data, writing style, update speed, and reader engagement."
Lin Zhanqiao didn't speak, waiting for him to continue.
"Currently, there is only one person who can surpass He Han—"
Chen Wei stopped talking there.
The meeting room fell silent for a moment.
That silence wasn't awkward; it was that everyone knew the answer, but no one dared to say it aloud.
Qin Hao.
He Han was already strong enough, but Qin Hao was even stronger. The data from "Sword Comes" speaks for itself: subscription numbers, monthly ticket rankings, IP valuation—it crushed He Han in every aspect.
A new author sat in the corner, pen in hand, his gaze sweeping across the conference room. He was a tall, thin young man who had just signed a contract this year, and his first book was still being serialized with mediocre sales.
He muttered something under his breath.
"Does becoming a top-tier player mean I have to break my contract with Zhixing?"
The sound wasn't loud, but the conference room was so quiet that everyone heard it.
No one answered him.
The new authors exchanged glances, their eyes subtly revealing something.
Lin Zhanqiao tapped her finger on the table.
“Alright,” she said, her voice suppressing all those chaotic thoughts. “Let’s get down to business. Chen Wei, send me the data on those promising authors you have. The same goes for the rest of you. Within three days, I need to see each editor’s report on their most promising authors.”
She stood up and put away the stack of reports.
"Meeting adjourned." (End of Chapter)