Chapter 1582: 2005: Selfish
Chapter 1582: Chapter 2005: Selfish
This is why all outstanding people aspire to go abroad, even Song Ze rarely returns to the country.
During that time, he happened to be on vacation. After he had an incident, he only stayed longer; otherwise, he would have returned already.
“If you really want to go, I won’t stop you, but you must think it through,” Jun Mochan pursed his lips. “I don’t want you to take risks.”
As a spy, Ye Ranran was not allowed, but Wen Cai could; she had been in the political field for so long and had honed her skills.
But Jun Mochan was selfish; he didn’t want her to go.
“You can stay with me. I can arrange for you to handle diplomatic affairs,” Jun Mochan said.
“Okay,” Ye Ranran nodded.
She couldn’t be that selfish, abandoning her husband and child to go out alone.
But she also felt she needed to do something to remember the person who had died. When a person dies, everything is gone; no one would remember or think of them.
He lost his life for her; she didn’t want to be like most people who occasionally remember him, sighing, “Oh, such a young life lost.”
She felt uneasy in her conscience.
“That person was clever, using this way to make you remember for a lifetime,” Song Ze was actually quite like him; once he took a fancy to something, he had to get it.
Even if by unscrupulous means, he had to obtain it.
In this way, wasn’t he also achieving something else? At least he had entered Ye Ranran’s heart, making her remember for a lifetime.
Ye Ranran looked at him uneasily; she knew that what she was doing was wrong, but she didn’t know what to do.
No one had taught her what was truly right to do. Forget things? She couldn’t pass that hurdle of conscience.
Seeing Ye Ranran’s conflicted and uneasy expression, Jun Mochan pinched her cheek, “Alright, stop overthinking and go to sleep.”
Because Ye Ranran planned to go out and have fun the next day, Jun Mochan spared her, only holding her while sleeping.
In the latter half of the night, he found it torturous even for himself.
Checking the time, it was three o’clock; he watched Ye Ranran sleeping soundly, thought about her needing to wake up at six, and withdrew his hand from her shoulder.
Forget it, better tolerate it, Jun Mochan smiled wryly.
At five o’clock, Jun Mochan called Ah Bo, “I’ll send you some files; contact the warehouse to see if these clothing pieces are still available. If not, have the factory remake them.”
“Oh, okay,” Ah Bo had difficulty opening his eyes and hazily sat at the computer, turning it on.
Upon logging into the email, he was notified of a new email. Seeing the sender, it was from Jun Mochan.
Opening it up, it contained design drafts one by one.
“You have a week to finish these for me, and notify the marketing department to arrange a special show for this batch of clothes.”
Ah Bo glanced at the style of the clothes—chaotic and outdated.
“President, under what pretext should we organize this show? Surely not as new products?”
“For remembrance, unforgettable theme,” Jun Mochan gazed at the drawings on the computer, eyes gentle.
He admitted he was selfish, initially thinking to progress gradually, but circumstances changed.
He didn’t want Ye Ranran to become a diplomat; he could allow her to visit Song Ze regularly but didn’t want her to still hold him in her heart in everyday life.
As long as Ye Ranran remembered, she wouldn’t indulge in these things; she would continue pursuing her design dreams.
After all, she loved it so much.
Jun Mochan’s hand slowly rubbed against the clothes on the computer screen, a smile on his lips.
Everyone said Jun Mochan pampered his wife, generous, yet who knew he was so selfish at heart?