Chi Zhan didn’t linger and quietly left the office.
At that moment, Zhou Yanxing looked up, watching as Chi Zhan returned to his own office and sat down—only to stand up again moments later and head back out through the door.
You ought to learn what happens when you talk smack about your boss behind his back, Zhou Yanxing thought as he took a sip of coffee.
The coffee was rich and smooth, with just the right balance of milk and sugar—not too much, not too little—perfectly tailored to Zhou Yanxing’s taste.
To outsiders, Secretary Chi was the model of professionalism: poised, approachable, and utterly non-confrontational. Even the fiercest corporate “tigers” turned into docile kittens in his presence.
But Zhou Yanxing knew better.
Secretary Chi, for all his charm and polish, had a deeply stubborn streak.
Of course, that was just Zhou Yanxing’s personal observation—one that seemingly applied only to him.
Zhou Yanxing was a man of swift action and exceptional patience. Those traits might sound contradictory, but every one of his former secretaries had described him the same way:
“This man will remember every single mistake you make. He won’t say a word—until he’s had enough. Then he’ll present a perfectly organized case against you, drop a resignation package on your desk, and you won’t even have the grounds to argue.”
“I can’t even begin to imagine what it’d be like if President Zhou got into an office romance. How would anyone survive it?”
“As a boss, he’s terrifying. Holds grudges forever, and his memory and hearing are freakishly good. But I bet being his partner would be amazing—assuming you don’t cheat. He’s insanely good to the people he cares about.”
Chi Zhan had once stumbled across a document in the C drive of his computer titled “A MUST-READ FOR SECRETARIES!!!”. It was filled with blood-sweat-and-tears testimonials from his predecessors.
He’d thought it was all exaggerated… until he saw the afternoon tea gift box on his desk. Inside was a packet of apple jelly—the exact brand he’d seen on the supermarket shelf that day, where he thought he might’ve spotted Zhou Yanxing.
It was hard not to overthink.
If it were just a coincidence, fine. But the kicker was—he’d vented to a friend that very day, whispering: “Sometimes I seriously wonder if my boss is just… completely asexual.”
And if Zhou Yanxing had heard that?
Was it too late to apologize?
But how would he even begin?
Chi Zhan had firsthand experience of just how vindictive Zhou Yanxing could be. If he didn’t apologize and Zhou really was holding a grudge… what if that resentment piled up until he got fired on the spot?
Chi Zhan was still mentally sorting through 108 different ways to apologize when Jiang Yi’s voice interrupted him.
“Chi-ge, you okay? You look kinda stressed.”
Snapping back to reality, Chi Zhan asked, “I just wanted to know—who arranged the afternoon tea today?”
“Probably HR,” Jiang Yi said, eyeing him nervously. “Chi-ge, your face doesn’t look great…”
He hesitated, then added with clear reluctance, “You… haven’t heard about that yet, right?”
“What?” Chi Zhan tried to sound casual.
“Ah, nothing major,” Jiang Yi waved it off, clearly flustered. “Forget I said anything. I’m probably overthinking—it might not even mean what I thought it did.”
The more Jiang Yi danced around it, the more it bugged Chi Zhan. But Jiang Yi refused to say more, and Chi Zhan didn’t want to push.Â
“Have you finished the report for the meeting? Make sure you show it to President Zhou.”
Chi Zhan was always creating opportunities for the players—setting the stage for them to build favor with Zhou Yanxing.
After all, that was his main task. But the moment Zhou’s name came up, Jiang Yi visibly recoiled.Â
“Seriously? No way. I—I—I don’t wanna see that face!”
He was even stammering.
“……”
Realizing how obvious his distaste sounded, Jiang Yi quickly added, “I mean, I totally respect President Zhou. Honestly. I’ve got zero romantic interest in that type of guy!”
Chi Zhan was baffled.
If you’re not here to romance Zhou Yanxing… What’s the point of playing this game?
Jiang Yi fidgeted, then mumbled, “About tomorrow… lunch?”
Chi Zhan remembered Jiang Yi’s earlier invitation.Â
“Are you free tomorrow at noon? Lunch is on me.”
He still didn’t know what Jiang Yi was up to, but odds were, it had something to do with Zhou Yanxing—so of course, he wasn’t going to turn it down.
Jiang Yi left in high spirits.
Soon, it was time for the month-end performance reports. One wave of employees after another filed into Zhou Yanxing’s office, and Chi Zhan had to set his worries aside and focus on taking notes. By the time the last report ended, it was nearly evening.
He hadn’t found a single opportunity to talk to Zhou Yanxing alone. And now that they were finally the only ones left in the office… he didn’t know how to start.
Zhou Yanxing was busy annotating a document on his computer.Â
After a while, he finally looked up and noticed Chi Zhan was still there. “Something else?”
The office lights had come on, flooding the space with a soft brightness. That glance Zhou shot him—a fleeting, indifferent look—made Chi Zhan suddenly recall every moment he’d been caught red-handed by the man over the past few days.
He hesitated, then decided now wasn’t the right time.Â
“No. That’s all.”
“Then go home and get some rest,” Zhou said, turning back to his screen. “You’ve had a long day.”
Coming from anyone else, that wouldn’t be strange. But from Zhou Yanxing, it was…
Like a weasel wishing a chicken a Happy New Year.
Not quite the right analogy, but definitely suspicious as hell.
Chi Zhan couldn’t help but glance at him a few more times, puzzled.
“You want to stay late and work overtime?” Zhou asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Of course not—” Chi Zhan almost blurted out his true thoughts, but quickly corrected himself.Â
“I meant, of course I’ll stay and work overtime with you.”
Yup. There it was. The same old Demon King Zhou.
Chi Zhan was about to ask about tomorrow’s schedule when Zhou Yangxing added, “We’re done for today. No need to rack up overtime pay. Go on, head home.”
Chi Zhan had no choice but to leave—but the whole thing still felt off.
No, deeply suspicious.
Zhou Yanxing was not the kind of person who cared about others, let alone said things like “You’ve had a long day.”
