Official Appearance Together

Chen Zhi received the refund notification while his phone was still vibrating on the office desk.

He glanced down.

Five million had been returned to the original account.

The memo had only three words:

She doesn’t want it.

Pei Ningxue had just finished retying the red string bracelet around her wrist and was about to review the overseas encirclement plan that Pei Dongcheng had sent over. She heard the vibration and tilted her head to glance at it.

“What’s up—did the Los Angeles team land safely to check in?”

Chen Zhi handed her the phone.

Pei Ningxue read the memo, her fingers pausing mid-air.

The office fell silent for a few seconds.

She handed the phone back to him, her tone softening slightly.

“Pretty strong-willed.”

Chen Zhi leaned back in his chair and rubbed his brow.

“I was just worried she wouldn’t have enough money over there.”

“Does she need your little charity?”

Pei Ningxue rolled her eyes. “Chen Zhi, sometimes you’re really ridiculous. Do you think throwing money around counts as taking responsibility?”

Chen Zhi didn’t dare to argue.

Pei Ningxue continued, “Right now, the last thing she wants is exactly the stuff you keep arranging.

If you give her money, she’ll feel like she still hasn’t escaped your circle.”

Chen Zhi turned the phone face-down on the table.

“Then what should I do? Nothing?”

“You promised to leave her alone for a year—isn’t that basically doing nothing?”

Pei Ningxue spun her computer screen toward him. “If you’re really that bored, take a look at this first. Google, Microsoft, Meta, plus Baidu—they’re planning an open-source pincer move. If they take you down, how can you still fantasize about marrying three wives?”

Chen Zhi was caught off guard.

“You’ve got a way of comforting people that’s starting to sound like my mom.”

“Don’t take advantage of me.”

Pei Ningxue sat back in front of her computer and opened the meeting report.

“It’s clearly spelled out in the plan. They’re not going straight after the Moss phone directly. Instead, they want to grab the developer ecosystem first.

Microsoft offers free cloud computing credits, Google offers models, Meta offers community buzz, and Baidu handles domestic public opinion and search traffic.”

Chen Zhi took the document and scanned a few lines.

“Free doesn’t mean it tastes good.”

Pei Ningxue tapped the desk impatiently.

“Don’t get cocky. Developers are very sensitive to free resources, especially early-stage startups. Right now, your Moss ecosystem has a foothold through the phone, but the developer ecosystem hasn’t taken shape yet.”

Chen Zhi looked up.

“Then we open-source too.”

Pei Ningxue frowned.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Not the Moss model itself.”

Chen Zhi picked up a pen and wrote a few words on a sheet of white paper:

MossOS

Plugin Marketplace

Revenue-sharing

“They want to use open-source models to snatch developers away. So we open up the phone-side system capabilities instead.

Let developers not just write apps for Moss, but write skill sets for Moss.”

Pei Ningxue took the paper, studied it for a moment, and asked, “Skill sets?”

“For example, when you order food delivery, hail a ride, edit a video, or write a PPT, it’s all essentially Moss calling underlying functions,” Chen Zhi explained rapidly. “From now on, third-party developers can create a plugin that teaches Moss more professional workflows.

Accounting plugins, legal research plugins, medical imaging screening plugins, music composition plugins.

The user says one sentence, and Moss calls the plugin to complete the task.

Developers earn subscription fees, and we take a cut.”

Pei Ningxue tapped the paper lightly with her finger.

“This is the AI ecosystem you mentioned before?”

“Exactly.”

“Free models capture basic users. We capture paid scenarios.”

Chen Zhi leaned back. “They open-source it and force developers to set up their own servers, adapt to their own devices, and find their own users. We provide the gateway, the payments, the distribution, and the cloud support.

Developers can do the math.”

Pei Ningxue lifted her head.

“So you want to build an AI-era App Store?”

Chen Zhi smiled.

“Ms. Pei, think bigger.”

“I want to build the AI-era operating system.”

Pei Ningxue stared at him for two seconds, then slapped the paper on the table.

“Then why are you still sitting here letting ‘All Out of Love’ play on repeat?”

“I just got dumped by my childhood sweetheart. Can’t I be a little dramatic?”

“You deserve it.”

Pei Ningxue grabbed her phone and dialed Dai Damai.

The moment the call connected, Dai Damai’s end sounded like a chaotic marketplace.

“Ms. Pei? You’re back? Holy crap, Bro Zhi finally got you to come around?”

Pei Ningxue’s face darkened.

“Dai Damai, shut your mouth in three seconds or I’m deducting your quarterly bonus and turning it into Moss test accounts.”

The line went dead silent.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Notify the core technology team. Meeting in the big conference room in half an hour. Topic: Moss developer ecosystem.”

Dai Damai was stunned.

“Now? The launch event just ended, and the investors haven’t even left yet.”

“Perfect, that makes the meeting even easier.”

She hung up.

Pei Ningxue closed her laptop, stood up, and straightened her sleeves.

“Let’s go, billionaire CEO.”

Chen Zhi didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?”

“My leg hurts.”

Pei Ningxue looked down at his leg, which had just come out of a cast.

“You put on quite an act in front of my dad just now. Now you feel the pain?”

Chen Zhi reached out his hand.

“Help me up.”

Pei Ningxue stood still.

“Don’t you have crutches?”

“Crutches aren’t as good as a wife.”

Pei Ningxue grabbed a folder from the table and almost threw it at him.

Chen Zhi quickly corrected himself: “CFO, CFO is better.”

Pei Ningxue was so angry she almost smiled, but in the end, she walked over and helped him up by the arm.

“Chen Zhi, let me make this clear. I’m here to manage the company, not to be your nanny.”

“Got it.”

“And not because I forgive you.”

“Got it.”

“And definitely not because I’m okay with all your messy entanglements.”

“Also got it.”

Pei Ningxue stopped walking.

“Got it my ass.”

Chen Zhi glanced at the red string bracelet on her wrist.

“At least I get this much.”

Pei Ningxue followed his gaze and felt her ears grow warm.

She quickly tugged her sleeve down.

“Keep staring, and I’ll gouge your eyes out.”

The two walked out of the office. Just as they reached the hallway, Li Zhiyi stepped out of the legal department’s temporary conference room, holding a stack of photocopies.

The three of them met.

Li Zhiyi first noticed the red string on Pei Ningxue’s wrist.

She paused for a moment, then quickly looked away and nodded at Pei Ningxue.

“Ms. Pei.”

Pei Ningxue nodded back.

“Ms. Li.”

The way she said it made Chen Zhi’s spine chill.

Li Zhiyi handed the copies to Chen Zhi.

“I’ve checked the photocopies of the letter of intent from earlier. The changes Ms. Pei made were very important—especially the Nvidia exclusive binding clause. If it wasn’t deleted, it would have blocked us from bringing in other cloud service providers down the line.”

Pei Ningxue was a little surprised.

“You understood it?”

Li Zhiyi spoke softly. “I only caught the legal risks—I don’t know much about the tech or financing parts.”

Pei Ningxue took the documents and flipped through them.

The annotations were very detailed.

A few of them even matched her own assessments.

She looked at Li Zhiyi with a slightly changed attitude.

“Renmin University Law School?”

“Yes.”

“Strong fundamentals.”

Li Zhiyi lowered her head and smiled.

“Thank you.”

Standing nearby, Chen Zhi barely felt relieved when Pei Ningxue suddenly turned to him.

“She’s more reliable than you.”

Chen Zhi: “?”

Li Zhiyi couldn’t help but curl her lips into a smile.

Chen Zhi looked stricken with grief.

“This is your first official appearance together, and you’re already ganging up on the boss?”

Pei Ningxue shoved the file back into his arms.

“The boss’s legs aren’t good right now, and his mind’s unstable too. A little attack is good for his recovery.”

Li Zhiyi draped Chen Zhi’s jacket over his arm.

“I’ll take your anti-inflammatory medicine to the meeting room.”

Chen Zhi watched as the two headed off toward the meeting room one after the other, and suddenly felt the whole scene was a bit absurd.