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Shen Mi had been using the same phone number she got in college. Two years ago, she couldn’t reset a game password because the webpage refused to load. Her mentor helped her out then, and she’d shared her phone number to receive the verification code. But until now, he’d never called or added her as a friend.
Shen Mi’s WeChat ID was straightforwardly her name, while her mentor’s ID matched his in-game username but written in pinyin initials: “dsm.”
As soon as she added him, Shen Mi obediently greeted him: “Master!”
Out of the game context, she suddenly found herself less bold, strangely feeling a bit timid. After sending her greeting, she quietly waited for his reply without any of her usual playful energy.
Her workstation faced Xie Rongzhuo’s office directly, meaning she could see the big boss at his desk whenever she raised her head—a location with an extremely high danger factor.
Although it was technically lunch break, being caught slacking off could leave a bad impression. Feeling a bit on edge, Shen Mi turned around, pretending to rummage through some files while keeping an eye on her phone for incoming messages.
The phone buzzed faintly against the keyboard. She immediately snatched it up and checked the notification.
dsm: Been busy lately.
Shen Mi straightened her back and tightened her expression, putting on the perfect act of someone diligently responding to work messages.
Shen Mi replied with a cute bunny sticker, trying to stick to her in-game persona to make sure her mentor wouldn’t feel out of place.
Shen Mi: No matter how busy you are, take care of your health~
dsm: Hmm.
Her mentor stayed perfectly in character—terse and aloof, even sparing punctuation marks, which brought a sense of familiarity. Instantly, Shen Mi’s desire to share everything surged back.
Shen Mi: I changed jobs! I’m not at the old place anymore. Quick, ask me how it feels!
dsm: How does it feel?
Shen Mi: Everything here is great, except it’s too quiet. I’m about to go brain-dead from boredom ( :з」∠)
dsm: Isn’t a quiet job a good thing?
Shen Mi: I feel—just a feeling, okay—that the boss is targeting me.
dsm: ?
Shen Mi glanced up discreetly toward Xie Rongzhuo’s office. He was bent slightly forward, focused on a document. Quickly lowering her gaze, she typed:
Shen Mi: I’m one of only two secretaries he has, but whenever he travels, he always takes the other one and never me!
Shen Mi: Actually, I’m supposed to be his personal secretary, taking care of his daily life. But aside from basic scheduling, he doesn’t let me do anything! It’s like I’m just a placeholder hired through connections, sitting around doing nothing!
dsm: …
Feeling overly relaxed in front of someone she’d known for four years, Shen Mi’s pent-up frustrations overflowed. She couldn’t stop herself from ranting:
Shen Mi: My coworkers have started gossiping. They think I must have some kind of backing, so they’re all polite and sweet to my face, like angels. But who knows what they say behind my back!
dsm: …
Letting her guard down completely, Shen Mi typed melodramatically:
Shen Mi: You have no idea how weak, pitiful, and helpless your dear disciple was today!
dsm: Hmm?
Shen Mi: I spent half a month meticulously researching the boss’s preferences, compiling an entire notebook like solving math equations. I’ve been working non-stop!
Shen Mi: And then today, rumors started spreading about me and my former supervisor! I figured I couldn’t let such gossip run rampant, so I stood up and loudly clarified—I said I already have a boyfriend!
Shen Mi: But guess what—
Shen Mi paused deliberately for two seconds before typing her dramatic reveal:
Shen Mi: My boss overheard me!!
Shen Mi: All my hard work over the past half month went down the drain because of that one sentence, Master!!!!!!
She added so many exclamation points, as if leaving out even one wouldn’t fully convey her misery.
As a coworker walked past her desk, Shen Mi quickly lowered her gaze to the files under her phone, maintaining an expression of icy professionalism.
Her master didn’t reply immediately. In those few seconds of silence, Shen Mi began to suspect he might be laughing at her.
dsm: When did you get a boyfriend?
His unexpected question threw her off. Just as Shen Mi was about to reply, her phone screen lit up with an incoming call from “Zhang Zhiqing.”
Glancing toward the office across from her, she stood up, straightened the collar of her blouse, and, with her water cup in hand, strode toward the pantry, her heels clicking crisply against the floor.
“Hello, Qingqing,” Shen Mi answered the call.
“Shen Mi! How could you come to Beijing without telling me first?” Zhang Zhiqing’s voice carried the indignation of a scorned friend. “Do you even consider me your friend anymore? If you couldn’t find a job, you could’ve just said so! I could’ve introduced you to my uncle’s company!”
Shen Mi shifted the phone away from her ear for a couple of seconds, dodging the sharp pitch of the young lady’s indignant tone. “Are you back in the country?” she asked.
“Of course! If it weren’t for Liu Wenwen and the others telling me, I wouldn’t even know you’ve been in Beijing!”
Zhang Zhiqing was the kind of young lady who drove a Maserati to school, always surrounded by friends. It wasn’t uncommon for her to casually gift her roommates luxury handbags worth tens of thousands, while Shen Mi’s humble backpack—priced at just over a hundred yuan—had been her trusty companion for over three years.
When they first moved into the dormitory, Shen Mi had felt intensely self-conscious in Zhang Zhiqing’s presence and instinctively kept her distance. But later, she realized that the young heiress wasn’t as pretentious as she’d imagined. It was only then that they became friends.
However, Zhang Zhiqing dropped out of school during her sophomore year and went to the United States. They hadn’t kept in touch much over the past two years, and now she suddenly reached out asking for a job referral. Shen Mi couldn’t bring herself to ask that kind of favor.
“I didn’t know you were back,” Shen Mi said.
“It’s partly my fault; I was too caught up in a relationship over the past couple of years and didn’t stay in touch with you,” Zhang Zhiqing admitted. She then asked, “You’re in Suicheng now, right? How about I recommend you to my uncle’s company? They have great benefits there—housing, perks, and—”
“Qingqing, I can’t talk right now,” Shen Mi interrupted, covering the phone. “My boss is here. I’ll hang up, okay?”
The light at the doorway to the break room dimmed as Xie Rongzhuo walked in with a cup in hand. He was tall and exuded such an overwhelming presence that the casual atmosphere of the room instantly became oppressive.
Shen Mi guessed he was thirsty but had come to get water himself because she wasn’t at her desk. Refilling his cup was part of her responsibilities. Feeling guilty for slacking off, she quickly reached for the cup to make amends. “Boss, let me help you with that,” she offered nervously.
Xie Rongzhuo glanced up and handed her the cup.
Shen Mi was familiar with his preferences: he didn’t drink instant coffee or sodas, and he despised lukewarm water that didn’t quench thirst. It either had to have ice or be maintained at a temperature between 55 and 57 degrees Celsius. She poured a small amount of warm water into the cup first, then added boiling water.
This was a formula she had perfected after testing with a thermometer over a dozen times to achieve a water temperature closest to 56 degrees.
Xie Rongzhuo picked up the cup and took a sip. Judging by his expression, he seemed satisfied. “Where are the pastries from this morning?” he asked.
It was already past lunch, yet he suddenly brought up breakfast. If it were anyone else, Shen Mi might suspect they were just looking for an excuse to make conversation with her.
But she was far from vain enough to think that a decisive and formidable boss like Xie Rongzhuo would have any interest in her.
“I was worried you might get tired of them, so I didn’t buy any today. I can make blueberry and cherry-flavored ones myself. If you don’t mind, I can bring some for you tomorrow morning?”
Xie Rongzhuo didn’t refuse.
That was as good as an agreement.
An
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