Flashback:

“Why is he so angry this early in the morning?” Jiang Quyan, at the time a junior agent, here to submit a report, quickly ducked into the receptionist’s office.

The female receptionist let out a sigh. “Getting scolded is already the best-case scenario.”

Jiang Quyan sensed some gossip and leaned in. “What happened?”

The receptionist, who was on relatively good terms with him, glanced around to make sure no one else was around before lowering her voice. “It’s that cashier from the finance office again. It hasn’t even been a few months since the last mistake, and now they’ve done it again. So the boss is furious—he’s been yelling since the start of the workday. Honestly, I think he’s already been way too forgiving. In any normal company, a mistake like that the first time would’ve been enough to get someone fired.”

Jiang Quyan knew exactly what she was talking about. Just three months ago, a careless cashier had misread an amount, mistakenly transferring 200,000 instead of 20,000 to a partner company. Fortunately, the other company’s finance department was responsible enough to catch the error and return the excess funds, so no financial loss was incurred. The incident spread quickly within the company, and even the interns joked about how great it would be if this cashier were in charge of payroll instead.

It was a mistake that could be seen as either minor carelessness or extreme unprofessionalism—something a cashier should never, under any circumstances, get wrong. Most people had assumed that the employee would be let go, or at the very least reassigned or disciplined. But a month passed, and the company took no action. In fact, that same cashier even made it onto the Employee of the Month list.

It wasn’t until later that people found out—the cashier’s last name was Lin. He was the boss’s wife’s uncle, which meant he was also the boss’s father-in-law’s younger brother.

“How much is it this time?” Jiang Quyan figured it must be a substantial amount if it had pushed Guan Zhengying to such anger.

The receptionist pursed her lips. “It’s not a miscalculated amount this time—it was sent to the wrong recipient. The worst part? The recipient is now refusing to acknowledge the mistake and won’t return the money. Legal might have to get involved, which will cost even more.”

“You’re kidding.” Jiang Quyan covered his mouth, unable to hide his sarcasm. “Looks like he’s finally done for this time.”

The receptionist wasn’t so sure. “Next week is the boss’ father-in-law’s 70th birthday. If they want to keep him happy, they might just cover for him again.”

She took Jiang Quyan’s report and advised, “You should come back in the afternoon. Now’s not the time to walk into the lion’s den.”

Jiang Quyan didn’t think too much of this little drama—it had nothing to do with him, after all. He was busy hiring new models, reviewing resumes and conducting interviews all day. In the evenings, he attended writing classes. The company had yet to hire a full-time PR officer, so as a junior agent, he had to write announcements, press releases, and promotional plans himself. Having no prior experience and little formal education, he could only rely on hard work to make up for his shortcomings, attending classes and practicing whenever he could.

By the time his evening class ended, it was already 10:30 PM. He took the bus back to his apartment in Kwun Tong, arriving close to midnight.

The television in the downstairs café was still playing the news, discussing the “Southern Talks” and Beijing’s firm stance on seeing Hong Kong’s return.

A Porsche was parked outside his apartment building.

Jiang Quyan glanced at it before heading upstairs but then did a double take—he recognized it as Guan Zhengying’s car.

Just as he was processing this, the driver’s window rolled down, and the driver called out, “Finally, you’re back. The boss has been waiting for you for a long time.”

Jiang Quyan hadn’t expected Guan Zhengying to come looking for him so late. “He’s upstairs?”  

The driver nodded. “Yeah. You should head up quickly.”  

Jiang Quyan ran up the stairs, only to see his boss, Guan Zhengying, standing in the dimly lit, narrow corridor of the old building. The walls were peeling, covered in random advertisements, and the air was filled with the stench of garbage. Dressed casually, Guan Zhengying had a suit jacket draped over his arm, standing stiffly in front of the iron door. An elderly neighbor peeked out from her door slit every now and then, eyeing this strange man curiously.  

“Boss.” Jiang Quyan approached awkwardly. “If you needed anything, you could’ve just had your secretary call me. Why come in person?”  

Guan Zhengying reeked of alcohol but was still sober. He smiled at Jiang Quyan. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”  

But what kind of decision? And why was it so sudden? He didn’t elaborate.  

Jiang Quyan immediately sensed something off. If it were about work, Guan Zhengying would’ve called him to the office during business hours or sent a message through his secretary. If it were for appearances—pretending to spend the night together for his wife’s sake—he would’ve asked him to come to his house or one of his private apartments. Guan Zhengying had never come to Jiang Quyan’s place before, let alone at this hour, drunk.  

Trying to gauge his boss’s mood, Jiang Quyan opened the door, letting him see the extreme conditions of his living space. “It’s not that I don’t want to invite you in, boss, but… there’s nowhere to sit. It’s messy and dirty. Sorry about that.”  

Guan Zhengying didn’t seem to mind at all. He took a step inside.  

Once he did, the tiny room was completely packed—there wasn’t even enough space for Jiang Quyan to turn around. The room was barely 90 square feet. The bed was right next to the toilet, separated by a flimsy plastic board that technically made it a “private bathroom.” The sink was connected to a gas stove, doubling as a kitchen. The bed was pushed against the window, and the foot of the bed stretched up to the walls, with foldable wardrobes and storage boxes stacked up to the ceiling. Every inch of space was maximized.  

The only remaining pathway was just wide enough for one person to stand. With two people inside, the room was completely full—not even a rat could squeeze in.  

“It is a bit small,” Guan Zhengying commented, unfazed. “You’ve always lived here?”  

Jiang Quyan bent down to reach the stove, boiling water and looking for tea leaves. “I moved here last year. I used to live in Kowloon City.”  

Guan Zhengying sat on his bed, casually placing his expensive suit jacket on the old, yellowed bedsheet. “No need for tea. Just some hot water will do. Sorry to disturb you so late—hope I didn’t scare you.”  

His politeness made Jiang Quyan feel even more self-conscious. He didn’t even have an extra cup, so he had to wash his own and hand it to Guan Zhengying.  

Taking the cup, Guan Zhengying drank the hot water, soothing his alcohol-stressed stomach. He leaned back against the wall, massaging his abdomen with a sigh. Jiang Quyan suddenly remembered—Guan Zhengying’s receptionist had mentioned that this week was Madam Lin Zhifang’s father’s birthday. Guan Zhengying had probably attended his father-in-law’s banquet earlier that evening.  

“I have some stomach medicine. Do you want some?” Jiang Quyan, being a drinker himself, always kept some traditional herbal remedies at home. “It works really well.”  

Guan Zhengying smiled and took the medicine. Then he finally got to the point. “I was going to check into a hotel, but I don’t like the smell of them. I didn’t want to go anywhere else either. I happened to pass through Kwun Tong and remembered you lived here, so I decided to stop by. Let me borrow this room for the night. My driver can take you to a hotel.”  

Jiang Quyan caught on—Guan Zhengying hadn’t had a pleasant evening at his father-in-law’s birthday banquet.  

“Boss, I’m honored that you think so highly of my place. Just to be clear, I’m not trying to kick you out, but this room really isn’t comfortable for sleeping.” Jiang Quyan spoke honestly. “Even my bed isn’t as tall as you are.”  

Guan Zhengying smirked. “You’re pretty tall yourself. This bed isn’t long enough for you either. How do you normally sleep?”  

“I just curl up.” Jiang Quyan was used to it.  

“If you can sleep here, why can’t I?” Guan Zhengying replied. Before Jiang Quyan could argue, he continued, “Don’t assume I’ve always lived in the Mid-Levels. When I was your age, I lived in a subdivided unit too. I never stayed in a cage home, but when I was even younger, I lived in the public restroom of a temple for eight years. At least you have a plastic panel separating your space—I didn’t even have that.”

Jiang Quyan knew Guan Zhengying had endured hardships, but he’d never connected such specific images to him. “Really?”  

“I grew up taking cold showers. I didn’t even know hot water existed. Until I was ten, I thought that was how everyone bathed. Then one day, my boss took me to his house, and I saw a bathtub for the first time. I thought rich people needed oversized urinals.”  

Guan Zhengying chuckled. “But they weren’t even rich. I was just that poor.”  

Jiang Quyan had hot water, but the usage time had passed. “Well, at least you’re not poor anymore.”  

Guan Zhengying nodded. “I was lucky. I climbed up.”  

Young and ambitious, Jiang Quyan didn’t believe in luck. “If it were just luck, you wouldn’t have been that poor in the first place. You made it because of your own ability.”  

“My ability?” Guan Zhengying took it as flattery, self-mocking. “What ability? I can’t even fire a single cashier in my own company. You call that ability?”  

Jiang Quyan paused, realizing it was about that issue. “Is this about that Lin guy…”  

Guan Zhengying didn’t bother hiding it. “At home, he’s my elder—I have to call him ‘Uncle.’ At work, he doesn’t even treat me as his boss. When he screws up, he laughs it off!” He exhaled sharply, frustration evident. “And at tonight’s banquet, I still had to toast to him. People say I’m a weak boss, but do they think I have a choice?”  

For the first time, Jiang Quyan felt a bit sorry for him.  

Guan Zhengying stared into the cup of hot water. “When I started this company, my father-in-law did help me financially. So for the sake of our past ties, I turned a blind eye when I could. But this time, he’s caused real financial damage. One small mistake from him, and I have to spend a million to fix it.”  

Jiang Quyan was shocked. “That much?”

Guang Zhengying thought he had scared him. “It’s my fault for bringing this up in the middle of the night…”

“It’s fine. I always stay up late, so it doesn’t matter.” Jiang Quyan’s voice was filled with sympathy and pity. “I always thought being a boss was glamorous—rich, admired by everyone. I didn’t realize you had so much to endure…”

Guang Zhengying actually laughed, finding him adorable. “Bosses are human too. As long as you’re human, you’ll have grievances.”

Jiang Quyan took the empty cup, refilled it with hot water, and rummaged through a cabinet before pulling out a piece of chocolate.

“This is the last one. It’s called Ferrero—it’s expensive and really delicious. You should eat it.” He unwrapped the foil carefully and explained, “Be careful of the soft chocolate filling inside—it might drip onto your hands. There are nuts in the center too.”

Guang Zhengying rarely ate sweets, but he knew this brand was trendy lately, an extravagant Valentine’s Day gift. The girls in the secretarial office were thrilled when they received a box.

He handed the chocolate back. “You eat it. Since it’s so expensive, don’t waste it.”

Jiang Quyan had nothing else to offer as comfort. “It’s fine, I’ve had one already. You should eat it. Something sweet will lift your mood.”

“Then let’s split it. You eat half, I’ll eat half.” Guang Zhengying compromised. “You take the first bite and give me the rest.”

Jiang Quyan hesitated before taking a small bite. But then Guang Zhengying told him, “Take a bigger bite.” He kept urging him until Jiang Quyan had eaten all the chocolate inside, leaving only half the chocolate shell.

Only then did Guang Zhengying take it. As expected, some of the chocolate filling dripped onto his fingers. Without a second thought, he brought them to his lips and licked them clean.

Jiang Quyan’s heart suddenly sped up as he realized just how intimate this act was.

“Thanks for the chocolate. It was delicious.” Guang Zhengying smiled at him deliberately. “I feel much better now.”

If the room weren’t dimly lit, Jiang Quyan was sure his blushing face would’ve been obvious. “Then…” His mind was spinning, and even his words were incoherent. “Then… Can’t you just transfer that person to another department? The cashier position is too critical, isn’t it?”

“I originally intended to fire him.” Guang Zhengying swallowed the chocolate, but the sweetness lingered in his mouth even as he drank water. “But my father-in-law pleaded repeatedly, and since it’s his birthday, I couldn’t refuse outright. I have no choice but to transfer him for now. But I won’t give him another chance.”

Jiang Quyan had an idea. “Boss, if you really can’t stand that useless guy, why not transfer him to the modeling department as an errand boy? I have a way to make sure you don’t have to fire him—he’ll quit on his own.”

Guang Zhengying was surprised that he could be of help. “You? What’s your plan?”

Jiang Quyan winked at him and leaned in to whisper a few words into his ear.

Satisfied, Guang Zhengying ruffled his hair. “As expected, Ah Yan is the best.”

Jiang Quyan felt the warmth of Guang Zhengying’s palm resting against the back of his head—so gentle, so sweet.

“I shouldn’t keep disturbing your rest.” Guang Zhengying knew staying longer would only make Jiang Quyan uncomfortable. “I’ll head to a hotel. You should sleep early.”

Jiang Quyan walked him downstairs, but Guang Zhengying suddenly changed his mind. “Since we’re putting on a show, we might as well do it properly. Come with me.”

It wasn’t their first time “putting on a show” together, and Jiang Quyan was happy to sleep in the spacious, comfortable hotel suite—after all, the couch in Guang Zhengying’s room was even bigger than his own bed.

The next morning, they intentionally “overslept” and arrived at work together, walking side by side into the office under everyone’s watchful eyes.

By the weekend, as expected, Madam Lin Zhifang sent word that she wanted to see Jiang Quyan.

So early in the morning, Jiang Quyan went to the Guang residence. Lin Zhifang had just woken up when the servants told her that Jiang Quyan had arrived before dawn and had been waiting outside for over four hours. Wearing her robe, she went downstairs to the dining room and ordered the servants to bring him in.

The maids carried in breakfast in single file, with Jiang Quyan following at the end. As he approached her, he heard Lin Zhifang’s cold voice.

“Kneel.”