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employee walked into the break room to get water, only to freeze in shock at the sight of the boss unexpectedly standing there. Startled, they nearly tripped before quickly turning on their heels and rushing out, their retreat so fast it created a gust of wind in their wake.
Shen Mi: “…”
Though she was also intimidated by Xie Rongzhuo’s imposing presence, wasn’t running away like that a bit too dramatic?
While she was still dazed, Xie Rongzhuo had already turned and left. Watching his tall, upright figure retreat, Shen Mi let out a long breath.
Truly, serving someone like him was like living with a tiger.
Before the end of the workday, Zhang Wenzhu hurried over to inform Shen Mi, “Shen Mi, you’re going on a business trip with the boss to Rongcheng tomorrow morning. Departure at 8. Don’t be late.”
A business trip?!
Was Xie Rongzhuo finally willing to take her along for assignments?
Shen Mi’s spirits lifted. “Got it.”
Starting two days ago, the temperature in Suicheng had plummeted. What seemed like a perpetually spring-like city felt as cold as Shen Mi’s hometown. She checked the weather forecast and saw that temperatures had dropped across the country, with Rongcheng being especially damp and chilly.
The next day, Shen Mi woke up early.
At 6:30 a.m., she arrived at Xie Rongzhuo’s doorstep.
She stared at her watch, waiting until 6:50 before raising her hand to ring the doorbell.
A few minutes later, the door opened, letting out a wave of warm air. Xie Rongzhuo appeared in casual loungewear, his loose shirt naturally fitted to his broad frame. His tousled hair fell near his eyes, which carried the drowsy softness of someone just waking up.
Without his glasses, his upturned eyes appeared sharper and more piercing than usual, free of the lens’ usual softening effect.
Shen Mi steadied her composure, rubbing her frozen hands on her coat before smiling and handing over a bag of food with both hands. “I brought you breakfast,” she said. Worried about being late, she had taken a shared bike, and the icy wind had left her nose red from the chill. “Rongcheng’s temperature has dropped significantly. You’ll need a warm coat. I can help you grab one.”
When her cold fingers brushed against him, Xie Rongzhuo frowned. “Who told you to come here?”
Startled, Shen Mi instinctively took a step back and smiled. “I didn’t mean to disturb your breakfast. I’ll wait at the door. If you need anything—” Before she could finish, Xie Rongzhuo had already pulled her inside.
With a loud “bang,” the door shut behind them.
The breakfast bag was unceremoniously tossed onto the table, and Shen Mi noticed one of the boxes had tipped over. She moved to straighten it, but before she could, Xie Rongzhuo grabbed her wrist. His cold, slender fingers locked around her, his gaze dropping to the collar of her shirt, where something seemed to agitate him.
It dawned on Shen Mi that she’d made a rookie mistake. The shirt she was wearing had shrunk in the wash, fitting a bit too snugly, and she hadn’t fastened the top button. She hadn’t expected Xie Rongzhuo’s obsessive tendencies to be this extreme.
With a controlled expression, Xie Rongzhuo averted his gaze and tugged her by the wrist into the walk-in closet.
The walk-in closet connected to the bedroom was well-heated, and Shen Mi could feel the icy stiffness in her face gradually thawing, as if the cells that had nearly frozen to death were coming back to life. Her numb fingers were regaining sensation.
“The coat is in the wardrobe,” Xie Rongzhuo said, tossing the words over his shoulder as he took a shirt and a pair of dress pants into the bedroom to change.
Shen Mi glanced at the tightly closed bedroom door, then slipped off her high heels at the entryway and put on a pair of shoe covers. She first went to the washroom to wash her hands. Xie Rongzhuo didn’t like people moving around in his peripheral vision, and his home was meticulously maintained by part-time cleaners. Shen Mi usually accompanied the cleaning auntie two or three times a week, so she was very familiar with the layout and routines of his house.
After washing her hands, she returned to the living room, propped up the tipped-over pastry box, aligned the food bag perfectly with the edge of the table, and then headed back to the closet to prepare Xie Rongzhuo’s clothes for the trip.
This business trip was likely to last about a week.
She selected shirts and dress pants, already numbered from the dry cleaner to avoid mistakes. Matching cufflinks and ties were chosen to align with Xie Rongzhuo’s usual aesthetic—no room for error there either.
Next came socks and underwear.
“Shen Mi, come out,” Xie Rongzhuo’s voice carried a trace of tension.
Being suddenly called out by her boss, Shen Mi turned around in surprise, instinctively asking, “What’s wrong?”
Xie Rongzhuo replied curtly, “I’ll handle it myself.”
Realizing a beat too late, Shen Mi quickly let go of the drawer handle, shut it, and placed the coat into the suitcase. “Alright,” she said.
To be honest, Shen Mi didn’t really think of Xie Rongzhuo as a man in the conventional sense.
In her eyes, she had simply inherited Zhang Wenzhu’s responsibilities. Zhang’s duties had included managing Xie Rongzhuo’s personal affairs, and his detailed notes on these tasks served as her guide. Naturally, she treated this part of the job with the same thoroughness.
But Xie Rongzhuo clearly resented her involvement, rejecting her outright.
Shen Mi hadn’t expected to lose out to Assistant Zhang simply because of her gender.
Xie Rongzhuo didn’t let her back into the closet, choosing to organize his belongings himself. Before long, he emerged carrying his suitcase. When Shen Mi moved to take it from him, he stopped her with a single indifferent glance. She froze in place, watching as Xie Rongzhuo calmly wheeled the suitcase to the entryway, laid it flat, aligned it perfectly, and left it there.
If he insisted on doing everything himself, what was the point of her role as a personal assistant? For the first time, Shen Mi felt a looming sense of professional inadequacy.
Was it because she hadn’t worn gloves earlier?
Yes, a severe germaphobe like him probably couldn’t tolerate someone handling his personal items barehanded.
She mentally jotted down a reminder.
“Come and sit.”
Xie Rongzhuo was now seated at the dining table, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing a glimpse of his lean forearms. He poured a glass of hot water and placed it on the seat across from him.
Shen Mi walked over and clasped her hands in front of her, smiling politely. “Boss, I’ve already eaten.”
“Drink water,” Xie Rongzhuo instructed.
“Alright.”
Shen Mi picked up the glass, standing beside him and taking small sips. The warmth slowly spread through her body.
She had made four snow skin mochi desserts—two blueberry-flavored and two cherry-flavored. It was clear Xie Rongzhuo preferred the cherry ones. This wasn’t something recorded in Assistant Zhang’s notebook, so Shen Mi quietly noted it down for future reference.
The mochi she made was soft, white, and delicately sweet without being cloying. She used fresh blueberries and imported cherries, which were quite expensive. If not for being able to expense it through the company, she wouldn’t have splurged like this—she’d even only dared to taste one herself.
Xie Rongzhuo pushed the two leftover blueberry-flavored ones toward her.
“Don’t waste them.”
Shen Mi remembered that Xie Rongzhuo usually enjoyed blueberries, yet today he hadn’t taken a single bite. Strange. Oh well, if he didn’t want them, she didn’t mind—she happened to like them herself.
Xie Rongzhuo ate with the same refined elegance as his appearance, leaving a few egg tarts untouched. Shen Mi happily “took care” of them all.
“Did you bring all your documents?”
Xie Rongzhuo leaned back on the sofa, his gaze fixed on his laptop.
It was possibly because it was the first time he was taking her on a business trip that he seemed unconvinced of her competence, even going so far as to remind her about something so basic.
Yet, his tone oddly reminded Shen Mi of her childhood. Every weekend before she returned to school, her father would always ask, “Did you pack everything?”
“Yes, I brought everything.”
Shen Mi walked over and crouched slightly at Xie Rongzhuo’s side, clasping her hands together. “But I still need your ID.”
Xie Rongzhuo closed his laptop and turned his gaze to her face. A moment later, his eyes shifted downward and stopped at her collar.
“Button it up,” he said.
Shen Mi: “…”
She couldn’t button it up, or she’d suffocate.
But she didn’t dare say that to Xie Rongzhuo. Instead, she steeled herself, turned around, and bent down to try and fasten the button.
Author’s note:
Shen Mi: The clothes shrank, it’s definitely not because I’ve gained weight.