Frank had long figured out the pattern: If he continually carved out opportunities for Captain Madison and President Grant to be together, success on any matter was almost guaranteed. And so, after only a moment's hesitation, Ethan nodded, "Handle it. But ensure Madison doesn't overwork herself."

"Understood! Crystal clear!" Frank left with a beaming smile.

"What are you up to?"

After leaving the company, Ethan didn't head back to the Wood Lake Luxury Estate but to Madison's new place. Jessica, who had opened the door for him, pointed towards the study, and thus Ethan made his way over.

Madison, propping her chin with one hand, looked up slightly, "What brings you here? Why not go home and rest?"

Ethan took a seat beside her, and soon after, William arrived with a selection of delicacies from a high-end restaurant, arranged neatly on a side table before quietly excusing himself.

Madison set down her pen as Ethan took her hand, gently massaging her fingers.

"Your hands are precious. Take care of them, don't work too hard."

As he spoke, Ethan thought of something, "How about I get you a secretary, or an assistant?"

Madison was surprised, shaking her head emphatically, "I don't need an assistant."

"You do. You're getting busier, and not everything requires your personal touch. For instance, this training program you're writing - you could dictate, and let the assistant do the writing. That way, you can have a break."

"That seems a bit... excessive," Madison hesitated.

Ethan disagreed, "What's the point of making money if not to bring some convenience to oneself?"

She found herself unable to argue with that logic.

"Let's eat," Ethan suggested.

Coming back to her senses, Madison realized she was quite hungry. Her recent irregular sleep and eating habits had taken a toll.

As she sat down to eat, she let go of any pretense of decorum, eating heartily.

Ethan watched her with an indulgent and somewhat pained smile.

"Why do you have to work so hard?" His voice was gentle to the point of being unrecognizable.

Madison looked up, "I'm not working hard."

"You've lost weight," Ethan's hands encircled her wrist, "It's thinner."

She laughed it off, "Nonsense, I haven't. I've been eating well."

She said this, but knew Ethan was concerned.

"Ethan, when you were working hard at the beginning, you must have been tired too. Who doesn't tire on their way up? But I think it's worth it. Just thinking that I can stand by your side with my head held high makes me..."

Madison's cheeks flushed with joy.

Ethan couldn't help but ruffle her hair, "Eat up."

Madison picked up a piece of tofu, "Have some."

"I'm not hungry."

"Just try it."

At her coaxing, Ethan found himself unable to resist and resignedly opened his mouth.

She fed him once, then again. Sharing chopsticks didn't seem to bother Ethan in the slightest.

As they neared the end of their meal, he asked in a hushed tone, "Can I stay over tonight?" "Cough... cough!"

Madison cleared her throat, "But I have to leave early tomorrow."

"I'll go with you, drop you off at the training base."

"Alright then."

In the living room.

"Is your boss not leaving?" Jessica asked William after he walked away.

William shrugged, "Seems like it."

Jessica rolled her eyes, "How come I never noticed my big brother couldn't stay away from his wife?"

"Mind your language."

Amelia, returning from the balcony with binoculars, turned around, "They're not married yet. We can't tarnish my future sister-in-law's reputation."

"You would get your wages docked if my brother heard you."

et

Amelia, though, reveled, "I don't mind, right now, all I care about is watching that handsome guy across the street. But he's late today, where could he be?"

In the study.

Just after finishing the late-night meal, Madison had to finalize the training plan for the next day.

"Knock knock!"

Amelia poked her head in, grinning, "President Grant, Captain Madison, done with your night snack? Shall I toss it for you?"

Her eagerness was unexpected.

Madison naturally didn't object, "Sure, thanks."

"Not a problem at all!" Amelia chuckled, grabbing two trash bags and leaving.

Once outside, Amelia looked around. She didn't dispose of the trash in the nearby bin but wandered off instead.

Where was that handsome neighbor?

Sighing, Amelia wondered how she could meet him.

Surely she couldn't just knock on his door asking for contact details?

Lost in thought, she disposed of the trash in a communal bin. Distracted, she tripped over a stone and fell to the ground.

"Darn it..." Amelia grimaced, clutching her ankle.

Not bothering to get up, she first checked her ankle.

That's when a beam of light hit her, and she heard footsteps.

"Are you alright?"

The voice was pleasing to the ear.

Amelia strained to look up, first catching sight of long, straight legs clad in neatly pressed slacks, followed by a thick, dark brown coat over a shirt. Then, she saw the face she'd been daydreaming about.

Amelia forgot how to react for a moment.

Qin Hualin waited a few seconds for her to respond before he helped her up with patience.

Regaining her composure, Amelia mustered her wits, "Sorry for blocking your way, and thanks for helping me up."

Qin Hualin glanced at her ankle, now exposed with the pant leg rolled up, revealing the scraped skin.

"Get that ankle seen to."

With that, he turned to leave.

"Hey, sir..." Amelia paused, seizing the opportunity for conversation, "Thank you. Do you live around here too?"

At the last second before getting in his car, Qin Hualin nodded at Amelia.

His intent to brush her off was clear, and Amelia couldn't bring herself to impose further.

When Qin Hualin returned home and

ne

parked the car, he turned to see Amelia limping slowly back home. He was surprised to realize she lived just across the street. S

"Hey, my benefactor!" Amelia beamed, "So you live across the street."

Qin Hualin nodded politely.

Seeing him turn away again, a slight sense of defeat crept into Amelia's heart.

She had never been so actively cautious, but it was apparent this man was the kind who lacked no female company.

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