Picking Up Another Woman in My Car

David's efficiency was even faster than Chen Zhi had anticipated.

In just three days, Taylor Swift's team confirmed their itinerary. A group of twelve would fly from Los Angeles to Beijing, with the flight scheduled to land at 2:00 PM on Thursday.

When Chen Zhi received the confirmation email from David, he was sitting on his bed in Dorm 404, munching on an apple.

Attached to the email was a fourteen-page reception itinerary checklist. From the specifications of the airport pickup vehicles and the standards of the hotel suites to the brands of refreshments in the conference room, it covered everything in meticulous detail. Every item was followed by the note "Taylor's team's mandatory requirement."

The further Chen Zhi scrolled down, the worse his expression became.

Item one: Airport pickup requires a commercial executive vehicle.

He glanced at his own means of transportation—the Didi ride-hailing app.

Item two: A dedicated driver must be provided for the entire trip, with a dress code of a dark suit.

He glanced again at the crumpled hoodie he was wearing.

Item three...

Chen Zhi tossed the apple core into the trash can, lay flat on his back on the bed, and stared blankly at the bed board of the upper bunk for three seconds.

As the dignified CEO of a company valued at tens of billions with 4.5 billion dollars sitting in its account, he surprisingly couldn't even produce a single executive car.

It wasn't that he couldn't afford one; he just genuinely hadn't bought one.

The reason was embarrassing to even mention. With three girlfriends, he couldn't leave any of their belongings in a car, and even the scent of the car air freshener would have to be changed every time. Chen Zhi had been taking taxis for a year just to avoid this fatal loophole.

But that wouldn't work now.

You couldn't exactly have a global top-tier singer sitting in the backseat of a Didi Express, listening to the driver blasting "Can't Afford to Be Hurt" on the way to sign a contract, could you?

Chen Zhi rolled over and pulled out his phone.

He scrolled through his contacts to "Pei Ningxue."

After hesitating for half a second, he dialed the number.

The phone rang twice before it was answered.

"Speak."

Pei Ningxue's voice had a slight nasal tone; she was probably dizzy from staring at financial reports in her office.

"Um... sis, I have something I want to discuss with you."

"Whenever you call me 'sis,' it's usually nothing good."

Chen Zhi let out a dry laugh. "The day after tomorrow, Taylor's team is arriving in Beijing, and I need to pick them up at the airport. Can I borrow your Phantom for two days? Along with the driver."

The other end of the line went quiet.

Quiet for a bit too long.

"President Pei? Are you still there?"

"I'm here." Pei Ningxue's voice became faintly eerie. "Chen Zhi, are you serious?"

"What do you mean serious or not, I'm just borrowing a car—"

"You want to use my car to pick up another woman."

A layer of cold sweat broke out on Chen Zhi's forehead.

"She's not just another woman. She's the spokesperson we spent tens of millions of dollars to hire to open up the overseas market. It's a purely business activity."

"A purely business activity." Pei Ningxue repeated the words. "You're taking your CFO's car and your CFO's driver to pick up one of the hottest female stars in the world, and then using this female star to help your other girlfriend win a championship."

"Walk me through this—which part of this has even a dime's worth of relevance to me?"

Chen Zhi opened his mouth, only to find that he actually couldn't refute her.

"Should I go rent one then?"

"Rent?" Pei Ningxue's voice rose a few pitches. "A man worth tens of billions like you, going to a rental company at the last minute to rent a car to pick up an international superstar? If word gets out, do you think it's you losing face or Deep Space Technology losing face?"

Chen Zhi: "..."

"I'll give you the car," Pei Ningxue paused. "And the driver, too."

Chen Zhi breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks—"

"Shut up, I'm not finished."

Chen Zhi obediently shut his mouth.

"First, add another tally to the ledger of what you owe me. Second, after you pick them up, that car must appear downstairs at the Wanliu Academy apartment that night. Both you and the car—try missing either one."

"Received."

"Third—"

"There's more?"

"Buy a car for the company. Within this week. This is an administrative suggestion from the CFO, not a request from your girlfriend. A company valued at fifteen billion dollars, and the CEO goes out taking a Didi. If you don't find it embarrassing, I certainly do."

Chen Zhi thought to himself that her words made perfect sense. The grand Deep Space Technology didn't even have a single official company car; if word got out, the capital circles would laugh at them.

"Alright, I'll get it done this week."

"Mm." Pei Ningxue's tone softened. "I'll send the driver's number to your WeChat later. Lao Zhao has been with our family for nearly ten years; he's very disciplined, so you can use him with peace of mind."

After hanging up, Chen Zhi lay on his bed and sighed with emotion.

He had to admit, hiring this CFO was truly worth it. A monthly salary of three thousand yuan, no social security or housing fund required, doing work worth an annual salary of five million, and even subsidizing the company with a Rolls-Royce Phantom to use as an official vehicle.

Every time he made her angry, she could be coaxed back to happiness with just some kisses and hugs.

Was there a better deal in the world than this?

...

Thursday afternoon at 1:20 PM.

Chen Zhi stood outside the international arrivals exit of Daxing Airport. The black cashmere overcoat he was wearing had been forced on him by Pei Ningxue last week, who had said something like, "Representing the company's image, you can't dress like a refugee."

Behind him parked the black Rolls-Royce Phantom with a Beijing A license plate. Lao Zhao stood with a straight back, wearing a crisp black suit and white gloves, presenting the standard dignified appearance of a private chauffeur.

Chen Zhi glanced at his watch; there were still forty minutes until the flight landed.

Dai Damai sent a message: [Boss, the conference room is set up.]

Chen Zhi replied with an OK.

Another twenty minutes passed, and the electronic screen in the arrival hall showed that the flight had landed.

Chen Zhi straightened his overcoat and walked to the position directly facing the exit passage.

David was the first to come out.

This guy, standing at 1.8 meters tall with blond hair and blue eyes, was wearing a well-tailored gray suit. Seeing Chen Zhi from afar, he opened his arms wide and rushed over.

"Boss! My Boss!"

David threw his arms around Chen Zhi.

"Alright, alright, let go. Don't make people think we have some kind of relationship," Chen Zhi patted his back.

David released him and lowered his voice to speak in Chinese. This guy had mingled on Wall Street for ten years, but he spoke Chinese more fluently than some international students:

"Taylor's people are coming out right away. Her manager is named Jeffrey, and he's an old fox. Don't talk about money when we meet today. What they care about most is exactly how strong Moss is. You have to demonstrate our technical strength first and make them feel that binding with Deep Space Technology is a huge win."

Chen Zhi nodded.

Just as he finished speaking, a group of people walked out of the passage.

Leading the way were two burly bodyguards, followed by four or five staff members in suits and leather shoes.

Then came Taylor Swift herself.

Standing at 1.8 meters tall, her long blonde hair draped over her shoulders. She wore a pair of vintage sunglasses and a camel-colored long trench coat. Even having just gotten off a flight of over ten hours, her condition was still unbelievably good.

The middle-aged man beside her was presumably the manager, Jeffrey.

With grayish-white hair and a lean build, his expression carried the polite but distant demeanor typical of a veteran in business negotiations.

Chen Zhi stepped forward and extended his right hand.

"Ms. Swift, welcome to Beijing. I am Chen Zhi, the CEO of Deep Space Technology."

Taylor took off her sunglasses and glanced at him.

It was evident that she was somewhat surprised. She probably hadn't expected that the CEO of this AI company valued at fifteen billion dollars would look like a college student.

In fact, he really was a college student.

"You are younger than I expected," Taylor said with a smile, shaking his hand.

"I get that a lot," Chen Zhi replied with a smile, stepping aside and making an inviting gesture.

Lao Zhao had already opened the rear door of the Phantom.

Taylor's manager, Jeffrey, glanced at the car and gave a slight nod, his expression showing satisfaction.

The motorcade left the airport and headed straight for the Global Trade Center.

On the way, Chen Zhi and Jeffrey discussed some high-level frameworks, mainly the general structure of the endorsement contract and Moss's global promotion plan. Taylor herself was quite easygoing. She even asked a few technical questions about Moss, such as, "Can it really write songs on its own?"

Chen Zhi said it could, but the songs it wrote lacked a human soul, which was why true artists like her were still needed.

Taylor was amused and laughed.

Jeffrey remained expressionless on the side, but Chen Zhi noticed him pull out his phone to send a message to someone. The word "good" could be faintly seen on the screen.

...

4:00 PM sharp.

The twentieth floor of the Global Trade Center.

The moment the elevator doors opened, the two girls at the front desk saw the tall blonde woman walking behind Chen Zhi. Their expressions instantly morphed from professional smiles to sheer dumbfoundedness.

One of them had her lips trembling but could not make a sound.

Taylor gave them a friendly wave.

Both receptionists let out a simultaneous gasp and covered their mouths.

Chen Zhi led Taylor's team through the open office area toward the conference room.

Along the way, the expressions of the employees on both sides of the cubicles were nothing short of spectacular:

First, a casual glance up.

Then, freezing in place.

Next, rubbing their eyes.

Finally, scrambling to grab their phones and typing frantically in the work group chats.

When Chen Zhi passed by the technical department's desks, a programmer wearing thick, bottle-bottom glasses tugged at his colleague's sleeve.

"Lao Zhang, am I hallucinating from too much overtime... Why do I feel like the person who just walked by was Taylor Swift?"

Lao Zhang did not even look up, still typing away at his code. "Last time you worked overtime, you said you saw JJ Lin making coffee in the pantry."

"No, it is real this time! Just look up, damn it!"

Lao Zhang looked up impatiently, following the direction of his colleague's pointing finger.

"Holy shit."

"I told you it was really her!"

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!" Lao Zhang bounced right out of his seat. "Is this the spokesperson Mr. Chen hired?!"

The news spread through the office like a plague.

Within ten seconds, Deep Space Tech's internal chat group exploded.

[Tech Group 1 - Xiao Wang: No wait, can someone tell me why Taylor is in our company???]

[Operations - Ah Jie: One of the receptionists has already fainted. There is only one left on duty now.]

[Finance - Lisa: President Pei approved a budget for an overseas spokesperson before. I thought we were just hiring some YouTube influencer...]