Chapter 40
Unemployed twice in less than a year. He was certainly gaining experience.
But he couldn’t bring himself to laugh.
Murong Yan still hadn’t replied to his messages or answered his calls. He had no idea where the CEO was. The last messages in their chat were Murong Yan’s instructions to apply the ointment and wait for him at home.
Well, he couldn’t stay at the company anymore. He might as well go home. Where else could he go?
There was no point delaying the inevitable. He went down to the 23rd floor and found Jiang Lan in her office.
“Manager Jiang,” he said, knocking on the open door.
Jiang Lan looked surprised. “Ah Cheng, what are you doing here?”
He touched his nose awkwardly. “Didn’t you ask me to come?”
“Oh, right, right,” she said, flustered, standing up and looking him up and down. “I said whenever you had time. No need to rush. It’s just a formality. Orders from above. We have to follow protocol.”
She shrugged, gesturing upwards. “CEO Murong, he…”
After the gala, news of his relationship with Murong Yan had spread throughout the company, and Jiang Lan was well aware of it. However, the “CEO’s brother” image was so ingrained in her mind that she had initially assumed Murong Yan had brought his brother as his date. After much discussion, she had finally accepted that they weren’t related, but that he was indeed Murong Yan’s boyfriend.
If she wanted to know the CEO’s whereabouts, she used to ask Duan Shao. Now, she could ask Murong Cheng.
“Mr. Lü is in charge now,” Murong Cheng said, avoiding her unspoken question.
Jiang Lan nodded. “Yes, Mr. Yuan told me. But—between us—Guangyu is still CEO Murong’s creation. And Mr. Lü is just a temporary replacement. CEO Murong might return any day. The termination notice is just a formality. You can continue working with CEO Murong while he’s away. Once he’s back, he might reinstate you.”
He understood her hint.
But this was probably just Jiang Lan’s wishful thinking. Yuan Ziming, the HR general manager and a Lingyu loyalist, probably had other plans.
He didn’t want to put Jiang Lan in a difficult position.
“No, thank you, Manager Jiang. Please proceed with the termination process according to company policy,” he said.
The CEO’s assistant position wasn’t meant for him. Even if Murong Yan returned, he shouldn’t rely on his favoritism. Especially now that their relationship was public knowledge. Such blatant bias would undermine Murong Yan’s authority.
Despite working at Guangyu for less than a year, the company was generous with its severance package, offering two months’ salary.
His personnel file would take time to process, but he signed the termination agreement and received the severance payment that day. He had barely done any actual work, especially since his transfer to the CEO’s office, so there wasn’t much to hand over. He wanted to thank his former colleagues and superiors, but with Lü Zhaowei in charge, associating with him might not be beneficial for them. He would thank them later, when he returned to collect his file in a week.
He couldn’t quite describe how he felt.
Spring in A City always arrived unexpectedly. The grass was already turning green, and new buds were appearing on the trees. The night air was no longer biting but pleasantly cool.
Not wanting to go home, he sat down on a bench, closing his eyes, enjoying the gentle breeze.
He felt a sense of relief.
He had been constantly on edge, first worried about being exposed as an imposter, then afraid of people discovering his relationship with Murong Yan, concerned about his inadequacy as the CEO’s assistant.
The weight on his shoulders seemed to have lifted. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time.
But a nagging sense of guilt lingered. He had promised Murong Yan he would be his support, but he had been fired before he could even do anything.
While others celebrated new beginnings after leaving a job, Murong Cheng, with less than 20,000 yuan in severance pay, felt lost and empty, wanting only to crawl into bed and sleep.
He didn’t want to go to Murong Yan’s empty apartment. The CEO always disappeared when he needed him most.
He decided to go to Chi Yu’s place instead. He opened a ride-hailing app, then, remembering his unemployed status, opted for a shared bike. It was only a half-hour ride.
As if to prove that bad luck came in threes, he had barely cycled a block when his father called. His parents rarely called him during work hours. Why call now, of all times?
He took a deep breath, composing himself, forcing a cheerful tone as he answered the call.
“Hi, Dad—”
“Xiao Cheng, are you off work?” his father, Murong Maohua, asked, his voice tinged with anxiety.
Murong Cheng’s heart sank. He stopped his bike. “Yes, what’s wrong?”
“Can you take some time off?” his father asked hesitantly.
His stomach churned. “Yes, of course. What happened? I’ll book a flight now.”
“Come home for a few days and help us out. The homestay has been shut down. Fire safety violation, they said. Your mother went to argue with them and collapsed. High blood pressure. She’s in the hospital now,” his father sighed.
“What? Is Mom okay?”
“She’s under observation. Nothing serious, but she needs to stay for a few days.”
The last flight to H City had already departed. The earliest flight was at 7:10 am tomorrow.
He quickly booked a ticket. “Dad, I’ll be there tomorrow morning. Send me the hospital address. I’ll go straight there after landing.”
“Okay, be safe! And remember to ask for leave from your boss!”
His father hung up abruptly, seemingly called away by a nurse.
Ask for leave… from whom? He was unemployed.
He changed his destination and cycled towards Murong Yan’s apartment. He hadn’t had a chance to explain everything to Chi Yu. He called him on his way. Hearing about his mother’s hospitalization, Chi Yu insisted on going with him. Murong Cheng tried to dissuade him, but Chi Yu was adamant, perhaps also wanting to escape A City after the breakup. He sent Chi Yu his flight information.
Back at the apartment, he quickly packed his things, set his alarm for the next morning, and then lay in bed, unable to sleep.
Too much had happened. One crisis after another. He hadn’t even processed one before the next one hit.
His mother had high blood pressure, but it was always well-controlled with medication. Why had she suddenly collapsed? And their homestay, all licenses and permits in order, listed on reputable platforms, why had it been shut down for a fire safety violation?
He suddenly remembered Murong Yan’s warning.
Murong Zhenguo wouldn’t let their relationship go unchallenged. He might target him and his family.
Had he orchestrated the homestay’s closure? And had his mother’s collapse been a result of the ensuing argument?
Firing him and shutting down their family business, cutting off their income, perhaps this was Murong Zhenguo’s first step, a warning. What would happen if he continued seeing Murong Yan?
His thoughts tangled like a ball of yarn. He stared at the ceiling until dawn, then dozed off briefly before his alarm went off.
He rushed to the airport, his mind still racing, almost forgetting his ID, barely making it onto the plane.
“Traffic?” Chi Yu asked, already on board.
Murong Cheng shook his head.
Chi Yu: “Couldn’t sleep? You look terrible.”
Murong Cheng slumped into his seat, closing his eyes as he fastened his seatbelt.
Chi Yu: “Going home just like that? Did you ask for leave?”
He opened his eyes. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I was fired.”
Chi Yu’s eyes widened. “Again? Who fired you? Someone taking advantage of Murong Yan’s absence?”
Murong Cheng chuckled wryly. “Murong Yan was also removed from his position. But you’re right, I should tell him. I don’t know where he is. He hasn’t been replying to my messages.”
The situation at home was complicated, and Murong Yan was probably busy.
Before the plane took off, he sent Murong Yan a message. He hesitated, typing and deleting several versions, then finally sent a simple message.
[Cheng: I’ve gone back to H City.]
