novelraw Chapter 553: Storyline Easter Egg
Chapter 553: Storyline Easter Egg
In a private room on the second floor of the BBQ restaurant.
The lighting was soft, and the air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of grilled skewers. The clinking of glasses rang out crisp and pleasant.
Gao Junfeng sat upright at the table, holding his glass with a faint, almost imperceptible smile at the corners of his lips.
His mind was still replaying the scene downstairs where he had just bumped into Tang Song.
He and Tang Song had only met twice before.
The first time was at the private banking event, where that guy completely stole the spotlight and was even rumored to be involved with Tian Chengye’s daughter, Tian Jing. That was when his jealousy toward Tang Song first sparked.
The second was on Huai’an Road—he was driving a Bentley with Qiuqiu in the passenger seat when he ran into Tang Song riding a tiny Ninja bike. That time, he finally felt a sense of vindication.
The third was just now, when the guy was having dinner with some junior salesperson from their company—and Gao had the upper hand in presence. He couldn't help but feel a little smug.
Still, he knew Tang Song was now the CTO of JinXiu Commercial, a position far above his current level.
But he’d only just graduated, and he had already secured his footing in Zhongcheng Group. He’d also gotten close to someone like Qin Hua—a high-class, educated beauty.His day would come.
The private room was steamy with heat and filled with the rich smell of grilled meat.
Liu Huiyang raised his glass with a grin, “Come on, let’s drink one.”
“Cheers.”
“~~”
“The beef tendon skewers here are legit. Come on, Zhiyuan, Junfeng!”
After a few rounds of drinks, the mood lightened up.
Liu Huiyang leaned in a bit closer and lowered his voice. “Things are a bit tense in the company lately… I heard the food and beverage division is about to go through a major shakeup?”
Wang Zhiyuan quickly chimed in, “Yeah, Junfeng, can you give us the inside scoop? What’s really going on?”
Gao Junfeng looked at the two, his expression slightly serious. “President Su is under a lot of pressure. The board has issued a directive to restructure the division—optimize the product line and tighten quality control.”
Liu Huiyang and Wang Zhiyuan exchanged a look. “So… which departments are affected?”
A big reorganization was both a crisis and an opportunity.
As middle managers within the group, they were naturally looking for a chance to move up.
Besides, the departments facing trouble were mainly product R&D, marketing, and PR—none of which directly involved them.
Gao Junfeng shook his head lightly, swirling the wine in his glass. “You guys are giving me too much credit. I’m just an assistant—no place to meddle in such things.”
Wang Zhiyuan waved him off, “Don’t be modest. Everyone knows you’re one of President Su’s most trusted people. And you’re close with Qin from the president’s office—you must know something internal.”
Gao Junfeng smiled faintly and said no more.
He knew the more mysterious he acted, the more seriously they’d take him.
Of the three core business sectors under Zhongcheng Group, the food and beverage division used to be the most stable and profitable.
Within that, Zhongyun Dairy was the crown jewel—covering fresh milk, yogurt, kids’ milk, and more. It once led the local market and was the division’s main revenue source.
Then came a sudden scandal: the Baocheng factory tampered with water quality testing reports.
Media quickly jumped on it. Brand credibility took a massive hit, sales plummeted, and public opinion spiraled.
Competitors took advantage, worsening the crisis.
Meanwhile, the real estate arm suffered under policy restrictions, and cash flow became tight.
When it rains, it pours. Shareholders started placing blame. The board’s stance shifted.
The semi-retired chairman returned to power, replacing Tian Chengye as the lead decision-maker.
A new round of senior-level reshuffling and personnel changes followed.
Gao Junfeng knew this wasn’t just a crisis—it was a golden opportunity.
As Su Ping’s assistant, he had access to key intel.
And with Qin Hua backing him in the president’s office, he was swimming comfortably in deeper waters.
Now was his time to shine—and he looked ahead with full confidence.
What’s more, he’d recently heard through the grapevine:
Tian Jing’s father, Executive Director Tian Chengye, had run into trouble due to a failed external investment. He was caught in a financial mess.
Combined with the internal shifts at the company, Director Tian had officially stepped back from operations this week and was still stuck in Hangcheng dealing with the aftermath.
Meanwhile, Qin Hua’s father, Qin Dechang, was rumored to be joining the board soon and stepping into operational roles.
That, for Gao Junfeng, was an excellent development.
In the few times he’d interacted with Tian Jing, it was clear she looked down on him.
But Qin Hua, on the other hand, showed him genuine appreciation.
Winning her favor could change everything for him.
As the drinks kept flowing, the three men loosened up.
Wang Zhiyuan raised a glass to Gao Junfeng and clapped him on the shoulder with a laugh, “By the way, Junfeng, I heard you’re thinking of buying a motorcycle?”
Gao Junfeng chuckled lightly, speaking at an unhurried pace. “Yeah, now that the weather’s cooled down, our Supervisor Qin keeps organizing rides with friends. I figured I should join in—gotta stay aligned with leadership, keep that granularity tight.”
“That’s the way!” Wang Zhiyuan nodded with a laugh. “So, any bike in mind?”
Gao Junfeng raised an eyebrow, heart skipping a beat, though he kept his expression calm. “I’m planning to check out Honda’s CM500 this weekend.”
Wang Zhiyuan immediately perked up. He opened his phone, searched it up, and said with a grin, “Nice choice! That engine size is great for beginners—good power, easy to handle, and not outrageously priced.”
Then he put his phone down and added with even more enthusiasm, “What a coincidence—our company has a partnership with the biggest motorcycle dealership in Yancheng. I know their sales director personally. Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll talk to him tomorrow and send you his contact. Just show up and pick up the bike—he’ll give you the insider rate for sure!”
Gao Junfeng couldn’t hide the excitement that crept onto his face. He gave a calm nod and raised his glass, “Thanks, President Wang—cheers.”
“Don’t mention it—we’re all on the same team!” Wang Zhiyuan downed his beer in one gulp.
The crisp beer cooled his throat and soothed the rising thrill inside him.
He knew full well—Wang Zhiyuan wasn’t just helping him to save a few bucks.
As a GM of a Zhongcheng subsidiary, Wang had influence over hiring, procurement, and budget approvals. He wasn’t short on gray income.
Getting involved in the motorcycle purchase was just a way of making an investment in him.
He might not even need to pay a dime—just sign off and ride the bike home.
That thought alone made Gao Junfeng’s heart race.
He’d only graduated less than six months ago and didn’t have much savings. He’d originally planned to buy the CM300, which cost around 30,000.
But now, after casually floating the idea of the CM500, Wang Zhiyuan had agreed without hesitation.
He regretted not aiming higher.
If he’d mentioned a luxury bike worth 100k, the guy probably still wouldn’t have said no.
That thought made his lips curve into a smug smile.
He might just be an assistant now, but with the right alliances, the resources would naturally flow his way.
A few more drinks later—
Gao Junfeng’s cheeks were flushed as he finally said, “Actually, I did hear a few things…”
…
The night grew deeper.
As they exited the BBQ restaurant, the chilly autumn wind blew across their faces.
Zhang Lei, wobbling slightly from the alcohol, grinned and spoke with slurred but bold tones, “Just wait till I make it at headquarters—I’ll strut back home in glory and make those a**holes eat their words.”
His tongue was heavy, and his steps were unsteady. He was clearly drunk.
Once a flashy young rich kid—
But fate had other plans.
His father went bankrupt, his mother fell ill, and the family was left with massive debt. He had no choice but to face reality.
Transferring from Quancheng’s branch to the Yancheng HQ was his big chance to turn things around.
He knew—this time, he couldn’t afford to lose.
So tonight, he drank hard and opened up his heart.
He even pulled Tang Song into a few rounds of baijiu, as if trying to pour out all his years of frustration.
“Hang in there. It’s only a matter of time.” Tang Song held him steady. “Where do you live? I’ll get you a ride.”
Zhang Lei waved it off, slurring, “No… it’s close. Just a few hundred meters. I’ll walk back myself.”
Still, Tang Song looped his arm under his and walked with him.
“Then I’ll walk you a bit. Let me find your place so I can visit sometime.”
Tang Song spoke lightly—like he just didn’t want him to fall, but also like he wanted to chat a bit more.
“Alright!” Zhang Lei grinned, swaying but in high spirits, babbling about their middle school days.
“Hey, weren’t you always asking about Zhang Yan? Be honest—did you have a thing for her?”
“Don’t deny it. It’s fine if you did. Back in middle school, I could tell she liked you. She never talked to the other guys, only hung out with you.”
“And you know, I heard she got really into classical poetry in high school—then went on to major in Chinese literature in college.”
The two walked side by side, one steady, one stumbling, slowly making their way down the street.
Ten minutes later, an old red apartment building came into view.
Zhongcheng Talent Apartments.
Located in the northeast corner of Zhongcheng Group’s campus.
The exterior was run-down, but the area was well-equipped and the facilities inside were decent.
Zhang Lei’s room was on the 5th floor—no elevator. It had two bunk beds and housed four people total.
These dorms were mainly for fresh grads or frontline workers.
Zhang Lei planned to stay there temporarily. Once he got settled, he’d look to share a rental with colleagues offsite.
After hanging out in the dorm for a bit—
Seeing that Zhang Lei could barely keep his eyes open, Tang Song stood up to leave.
As he came down the stairs—
He saw Liu Jiayi standing in the night wind. Her black trench coat fluttered slightly, her expression calm and resolute.
The black Rolls-Royce Phantom disappeared into the shadows.
…
Yanjing Huating, luxury apartment.
Night was deep. City lights outside the window glittered like spilled stars.
Little Jing Jing curled up on a velvet sofa, a soft plush blanket over her legs. The screen of her phone glowed faint blue.
Through the speaker, Qin Hua’s voice carried a tinge of worry and urgency. “Your dad’s already negotiating to sell his shares of JinXiu Commercial. They’ve reached a preliminary agreement.”
Little Jing Jing took a gentle bite of the strawberry in her hand. “Mm, I’ve heard about it.”
"The power struggle within Zhongcheng Group’s board is fierce right now. Your dad simply doesn’t have the energy to manage it all, so he’s planning to let my dad join the board to represent his interests."
"Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? Aren’t you happy?"
"Alright, Little Jing Jing, I’m not saying this to gloat. I’m warning you—your current situation is dangerous. Your cousin You Guowen is using this chaos as leverage and is about to be promoted to Vice President. He’ll inherit the resources and connections your father left behind."
Little Jing Jing’s gaze flickered for a moment before she lowered her eyes, gently fiddling with the hem of her dress.
"So... Huahua, what do you think I should do? Can I help my dad somehow?"
"Uh..." Qin Hua was momentarily speechless. After a few seconds, she replied softly, "Honestly... unless Hueneng Electronics’ issues get resolved—not just financially, but also technologically."
"Thanks for your concern, sweetheart. Who knows, maybe things will turn around in the future?"
"Let’s hope so..."
After the video call ended, Little Jing Jing didn’t put her phone down right away. She stared blankly at the darkened screen for a while.
She actually understood better than anyone how bad her father’s situation was.
At the root of everything was Hueneng Electronics—a massive sinkhole.
If they couldn’t find a technological breakthrough or attract a strategic investor, her father’s problems would never truly be solved. This text is hosted at novel⁂fire.net
And to fix this mess, they’d need immense resources and top-level technical support.
Tangyi Precision was undoubtedly an ideal candidate.
If they could bring Tangyi Precision into Hueneng’s tech upgrade—maybe even acquire or merge—it might bring the company back to life.
But with her current role as an HRBD in a branch division, she didn’t have the clout.
Shangguan Qiuya, on the other hand, did.
As Assistant to Director Jin, an executive at Smile Holdings, and a close acquaintance of Ouyang Xianyue, she was essentially the hidden hand behind Tangyi Precision.
If she were willing to make the connection, there was still hope.
A few days ago, Little Jing Jing had called her and casually brought it up as a joke.
At the time, Shangguan Qiuya’s reaction was oddly vague. She didn’t refuse or agree outright, but instead steered the conversation toward Tang Song—speaking about him with a tone that was almost overly intimate.
That got Little Jing Jing’s imagination running.
She had gone online to look into Tang Song’s company, Songmei Apparel, and had naturally found out about his other holdings—like Lan Feng International and Bocai Elite.
And she finally understood why Lin Muxue had been so high-profile at Sinmo Bar.
Tang Song was way richer than she’d thought.
But she had never considered asking Tang Song to bail her father out financially.
Over 200 million—an astronomical figure.
Even if Tang Song actually had that kind of money, she wouldn’t say yes.
Spending her husband’s money to help her own family? That was giving people leverage and asking to be ousted from her throne—how could she stay the legitimate wife like that?!
Besides, money alone wouldn’t fix things.
Hueneng Electronics wasn’t just bleeding from a broken cash flow—it had major issues with tech development, market positioning, and internal management.
None of that could be fixed by throwing money at it.
What her father really needed was powerful resources and deep connections.
And that—was exactly what Shangguan Qiuya could offer.
The reason Little Jing Jing kept this from her father was simply because she was being a little wicked.
Her parents still didn’t know about Tang Song’s other women.
She didn’t care—but her parents absolutely wouldn’t accept it.
Especially her father, Tian Chengye—a textbook “daughter-doting dad.”
This would be the biggest obstacle to her marrying Tang Song in the future.
So to ensure a happy future together, she had to make Old Tian suffer a little.
She’d let him struggle, cornered on all sides. Then her boyfriend would show up with Shangguan Qiuya in tow—shining like a savior, bringing light and hope, helping Hueneng escape its crisis.
If that happened, her whole family would owe Tang Song big time.
Even if Old Tian found out the truth later, he’d just have to swallow it.
And she? She’d get to live shamelessly and sweetly with her Lord Tang Song.
Hehe.
Thinking that, Little Jing Jing couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.
Then she got up and walked into the bedroom.
Click. The door locked behind her.
“Privet Marseille! Little Jing Jing, you are too naughty! You must be punished hard!”
...
Yanjing Tiancheng.
Buzz buzz buzz— A WeChat message popped up.
[Little Jing Jing]: “Brother Tang Song, are you alone right now?”
Tang Song couldn’t help but laugh and immediately sent a video call.
Whenever Little Jing Jing asked like this, it meant she’d done something “wrong” again.
The video connected quickly.
Her familiar face appeared on the screen.
Long hair flowing down casually, no makeup, looking lazy and sweet.
The camera slowly panned out.
She was wearing an extremely sexy white camisole slip. The neckline gaped open, revealing a snowy expanse of skin and her full chest.
Her long, slender legs peeked from beneath the hem of the dress, skin so luminous it looked like she had a soft-focus filter.
“Good evening, Brother Tang Song.” Little Jing Jing arched her chest forward adorably, the camisole barely containing her curves.
Her demure, innocent face paired with the provocative outfit created a striking contrast.
Tang Song felt his blood heat up.
Ever since completing that special mission, [A Gentleman’s Self-Cultivation], he’d gotten to know the full extent of his wealthy girlfriend’s “versatile attributes.”
Lately, their WeChat conversations had been outrageously steamy—stuff that would definitely get flagged if posted.
This former office goddess was now completely unrecognizable in his eyes.
“Good evening, Little Jing Jing. What is it this time?”
Little Jing Jing licked her lips, knelt on the bed, tilted her head, and gave him a pitiful look. “Brother Tang Song, I made a mistake again.”
Tang Song adjusted his position, his face turning stern. “Speak. What did you do?”
Little Jing Jing blinked, looking a little guilty. She pressed her legs together and twisted her fingers.
“Didn’t you say before you wanted to get a motorcycle? I wanted to do something sweet...”
“But I didn’t figure out exactly which one you liked, so... I just went ahead and pre-ordered a Ducati V4. It’ll be delivered to Yancheng tomorrow...”
She lowered her head and added softly, “Sorry, Brother Tang Song... you can punish me...”
Tang Song nearly lost his poker face.
Good grief! This is what you call a mistake?
Little Jing Jing, you’re a damn genius!
But of course, he knew this was his girlfriend playing her little game.
Tang Song cleared his throat, trying not to laugh, and replied coldly, “Who told you to order it, hmm? Are you trying to teach me how to live?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Privet Marseille!”
Little Jing Jing trembled at the shoulders in fear, like a little girl who had done something wrong. Her voice was timid, and her legs instinctively pressed together.
Tang Song looked at her “asking for forgiveness” expression, and his heart stirred.
“Let’s begin. I’ll speak—you follow.”
“Y-Yes… okay.” Little Jing Jing quivered with fearful eagerness, like a student singled out for making a mistake.
She began apologizing in a low voice.
Her body swayed slightly with each movement, radiating seductive energy.
Tang Song couldn’t help but sigh inwardly—
Little Jing Jing was just too fun.
If one day he had her and little maid Qingqing do a “cosplay showdown,” it’d definitely be next-level entertaining!
At exactly 10:00 p.m., the video call ended.
Tang Song took a quick shower and lazily lay down in bed.
He opened his phone to check account stats.
Little Jinghongshu followers: 45,561; Douyin followers: 370,442.
Thanks to his recent focused effort, his growth rate had picked up noticeably—especially on Douyin, where follower count was jumping by thousands daily.
Compared to Little Jinghongshu, which emphasized content depth and user engagement, Douyin was far more straightforward.
As long as the video was eye-catching, it would generate traffic.
And he was certainly not short on “eye-catching” material now.
The Ducati Little Jing Jing just gifted him, a limited-edition Lamborghini SVJ63, his luxury apartment, guitars, violins…
And internet celeb Luna Little Jingxue.
These were natural attention magnets.
He didn’t even need to show his face to build a million-follower account effortlessly.
Then, Tang Song opened his Moments feed and started casually scrolling.
Suddenly, one post jumped out:
[Shen Yuyan]: Shared news: “Jin MeiLittle Jing makes rare appearance at Global Tech Summit—AI Revolution Enters ‘Augmented Reality’ Era.”
Tang Song’s gaze sharpened as he tapped the link.
The news page loaded, and a photo appeared.
She was wearing a women’s tailored suit—sharp, clean lines, exuding elegance.
Her features were stunning, her figure perfectly proportioned, her aura confident yet intellectual.
Even though the photo was taken from a distance and the details were a bit blurry, she was still impossible to ignore.
That was Secretary Jin—his Secretary Jin.
Tang Song stared at the screen for a long time, his expression shifting with an inexplicable emotional ripple.
He really missed her.
He’d already seen Su Yu in real life twice. But Secretary Jin—not even once.
This woman, who had accompanied him the longest and influenced him the most, always hovered like a shadow—neither fully in dreams nor in reality.
He took a deep breath.
Tang Song opened the system interface and entered the inventory.
His eyes fell on a golden-glowing item.
[Secretary Jin’s Storyline Easter Egg]: A hidden sub-plot item related to “Secretary Jin.” Use it to recall a forgotten wager memory in the form of a dream. Temporarily unlocks Secretary Jin’s call function, allowing you to issue one “personal command.”
He’d had this item for several days.
The reason he hadn’t used it yet… was because he didn’t know what to say to her.
Now, looking at that candid summit photo on his phone screen, Tang Song’s gaze finally grew resolute.
He selected the item and activated it immediately.
Pop— the Easter egg exploded.
Ding! [Secretary Jin’s Storyline Easter Egg] activated!
A wave of drowsiness swept over him. His consciousness drifted into a dream.
Seconds later—
—
He slowly opened his eyes and found himself sitting in a familiar room.
The air carried faint traces of tea and floral scents. Outside the window, it was late autumn—quiet and warm.
This was… the study room in Yanjing Dacity?
Tap, tap, tap— The delicate, light clicking of high heels approached from the end of the hallway.
He turned around—and saw a familiar figure slowly entering through the door.
Elegant, composed, flawless.
“Dream Tang Song’s” gaze, beyond his control, dropped to her legs.
She was wearing sheer black pantyhose—so thin they faintly revealed the natural sheen of her skin. The lighting gave them a hazy matte texture.
Her long legs flowed with grace and elegance—from thigh to calf, the transitions were smooth, not a hint of excess flesh, sculpted like fine art.
These were… the ultimate legs!