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Chapter 6: CEO’s Heartbeat Level – 0.5%: Initial Contact…
Even after stepping out of Guishang Group, Su Shangfei felt like she was walking in a daze. As she wandered through the bustling commercial street, her feet felt like they weren’t touching the ground.
She couldn’t understand where she’d gotten the courage to respond so sharply and emotionally to Mu Ruye’s questions—nor how she had muddled her way into landing a job countless others dreamed of.
What she did remember clearly was the moment they shook hands before she left. On his middle finger, she felt a faint callus—likely from years of holding a pen. That small, electric jolt stayed with her, momentarily clouding her thoughts.
Su Shangfei had hesitated but never asked the one question circling in her mind: Why had he chosen her over candidates with far better qualifications, education, and experience?
All she knew was that, starting now, her goal was to work hard, get through the probation period, stay by his side, assist him, and support him—until the day she could walk away on her own terms.
She looked forward to that day, when she could finally reclaim her freedom.
On her first day, HR led Su Shangfei around the office, explaining the company’s perks and the layout of various departments she might interact with in her role.
“This here’s the break room—coffee, snacks, fruits—everything’s free. Just take what you need. If there’s something you’d like to see stocked, leave a note on the suggestion board. Someone will follow up. We do our best to meet employees’ needs.”
The HR rep was unusually warm toward Su, enthusiastically emphasizing the company’s benefits—hoping these would help her endure the pressure of working under Mu Ruye when she inevitably thought of quitting.
“The gym on the first floor is open 24/7. The swimming pool is heated. Take a dip before or after work and finish with a hot shower—it’s very relaxing.”
Pointing to a nearby five-story building, HR added, “Our cafeteria’s huge—over 10,000 square meters. You’ll find Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Thai, Mexican, and French cuisine. All major chains are here. And if you’re too busy, just order through the internal system. Your food will be delivered to the locker area by the office—no need to wait in line.”
They spent nearly half the day just touring the company.
When Su was finally brought to Business Group One’s office, everyone inside was too busy to even look up. Phones buzzed constantly with customer messages, and no one had a second to spare.
Even when HR introduced her, the response was cold and indifferent. Everyone seemed convinced she wouldn’t last a week under Mu Runye—the notorious workaholic—and didn’t want to waste time on pleasantries.
Someone half-heartedly clapped, and a female colleague merely pointed to the desk assigned to her. No one volunteered to train or guide her.
Unaware of the group’s expectations, Su simply thought they were too busy to make small talk and was fine keeping to herself. She quietly sat at her station and began reviewing the training materials Mu Ruye had prepared for her.
Maybe it was because it was her first real full-time job, but Su felt a wave of enthusiasm.
She touched her employee badge and smiled—this was her first proper workstation, her first name tag. The fast-paced work environment exhilarated her. Like a sponge, she absorbed every piece of information, so engrossed that she nearly forgot to eat lunch.
At noon, other departments gradually trickled out for lunch, but Business Group One remained a hive of activity.
One employee replying to messages asked another who stood up, “Heading out? Grab my lunch from the delivery locker, will you?”
The coworker replied while packing up, “Not eating. I’ve got to visit a client. Director Huang called me in for a meeting.”
Mu Ruye didn’t return to the office until just before closing time. As he passed Su’s desk, he didn’t even slow down.
Once seated, several team members came in to report: some asked about price quotes they weren’t confident about, others consulted him on stalled projects.
It wasn’t until after 8 p.m. that his office quieted down. He finally got up and went to the break room to stretch and grab a coffee.
On his way back, he noticed Su hadn’t left, even though work ended at six. She wasn’t at her desk, but her things were still there.
Her desk lamp was on. Her black shoulder bag rested on her chair. Five different documents were laid out neatly, each covered in her handwritten notes and questions.
Impressed, Mu Ruye returned to his office and sent her a series of training materials via WeChat, along with a note:
“You can go home now. Try to get familiar with these materials within the week. If anything is unclear, summarize your questions in your weekly report. I’ll answer them all next Monday afternoon.”
Coming out of the restroom, Su heard her phone buzzing in her pocket. When she opened the chat, she saw a dozen files sent over.
She clicked into one titled “Business Overview” and found it was a comprehensive training guide he had created for newcomers. It included the company’s structure, business processes, and detailed operational protocols.
Genuinely impressed by his professionalism and patience, she quickly replied:
“Thank you, Team Lead. I’ll turn in the report on Friday as scheduled.”
Returning to her desk, she caught sight of Mu Ruye on the phone. Despite his distant and cold appearance, she had a strong feeling that beneath that icy exterior lay a warm heart.
At home, Meng Lu had dinner and a celebratory ice cream cake ready to mark Su’s first day as a full-time employee. But by the time Su got home, the food had gone cold and the cake had melted slightly.
“What?! No newbie protection period?” Meng Lu took her bag and grumbled, “Big companies are so toxic. They don’t even let interns breathe. Outrageous.”
Su leaned on her friend’s shoulder and explained, “They didn’t make me stay. I wanted to study more.”
Meng Lu laughed in exasperation. “You’ve never worked before, that’s why you’re still in the honeymoon phase. Just wait—after a couple of weeks dealing with uncooperative coworkers, you’ll see how soul-crushing it gets.”
Su had already witnessed Meng Lu’s transformation from enthusiasm to burnout and smiled: “Maybe. One day at a time.”
Like a dried sponge dropped into water, Su soaked up everything. That Friday, she had barely stepped into the office when Mu Runye sent her a private message summoning her to a meeting with the production department.
He had recently secured several large orders, so big that even the current production lines—already stretched to capacity—couldn’t meet the deadlines.
“Team Lead Mu, this is unreasonable,” the head of production complained. “Our workers are already on rotating shifts, machines running non-stop. We can’t bump other clients’ orders just for you.”
Mu was firm. “I confirmed with you earlier if the deadlines were doable, and you promised they were. That’s why we signed the deal with Thailand. Now you’re telling me we can’t deliver? Who’s really being unreasonable? What, mess up your own work and now you’re flipping the blame? You must be a pig—swinging that rake like a pro.”
The department head’s face turned a deep shade of red—furious and embarrassed.
“We’re people too. People need rest. And there are at least ten orders ahead of yours. I say we delay yours by two months.”
Su glanced at Mu, who looked completely unfazed, as if he had anticipated this.
“Fine,” he said coldly. “Delay it all you want. If we breach the contract and the company suffers losses, it won’t be my name getting dragged. That penalty fee is astronomical. It’ll ruin your reputation in the industry.”
The production director turned pale.
As Mu’s phone rang nonstop, he stood and left the room without waiting for a reply. Su followed him through the factory corridors, curiously eyeing the automated production lines through the glass.
“Want to go in and take a look?” Mu asked, pausing.
Su shook her head and asked instead, “When I walked in, I saw Lines 8, 9, 13, 17, and 22 weren’t running. Why not start them up? Maybe we could still make the deadline.”
Mu was surprised at her observation. “How are you so sure?”
She opened her notebook, showing her rough calculations. “It’s just an idealized estimate, based on their production output from the same quarter last year. It seems feasible.”
Mu skimmed through her notes—full of data, knowledge points, and unresolved questions. Her diligence and reasoning exceeded his expectations.
“Each production line costs a lot to operate. Switching products means stopping everything, cleaning, recalibrating, and testing. It wastes a whole day. Doing this frequently—or for multiple lines—causes huge losses. Come year-end evaluations, that director will get chewed out for poor planning.”
Su, honest and righteous, instinctively sympathized with him and the clients.
“But isn’t missing the delivery date—and risking a breach of contract—worse than losing half a day of efficiency? Isn’t it hard enough to secure new clients? Why doesn’t anyone see how hard you work?”
Mu saw her standing up for him and softened from his earlier combativeness into something more like a mentor.
“If everyone thought like you, we wouldn’t waste so much energy. But idealism and reality don’t always match. Anyway, there are lots of twists and turns in this. I’ll teach you more later.”
Su hugged her notebook and nodded eagerly. “Okay. Thank you, Team Lead.”
Mu checked his watch. “Have you eaten at the cafeteria yet?”