“This crystal lamp was handcrafted by me. It carries my heartfelt sentiments. I hope that whenever you see it, you will think of me. —Zhou Yanxing.”
Zhou Yanxing shot him a sidelong glance, producing a crystal orb from who knows where. His signature was etched across it in bold strokes—so convincingly authentic that even he had to squint to tell whether it was real.
With a faint, almost amused smile and a tone that dripped with lazy indifference, Zhou Yanxing nonetheless emanated an oppressive authority that made Chi Zhan stiffen.
“Secretary Chi,” he drawled, “why did the gift you gave Young Master Bai bear my name?”
***
Why else?
It was because of you, Zhou Yanxing. Because you are utterly useless.
If Chi Zhan had had a few more drinks, he might have blurted that out loud. Unfortunately, he was still quite sober.
Even so, he found the whole situation absurd.
He knew full well this was a romance simulation game. Players were meant to fall in love through their interactions with the romance targets. But judging by Zhou Yanxing—this straight-laced, domineering alpha—he hardly fit the role of someone capable of affection, let alone romance.
Of course, maybe that was just the employee mindset talking. No working stiff would ever think falling for their boss was a good idea. Just the thought was headache-inducing.
Still, for the sake of player immersion, Zhou Yanxing had to offer something. If he could not manage an intimate phone call, a heartfelt gift was the bare minimum. That much was written clearly in the NPC guidelines.
After weighing his options, Chi Zhan said, “I heard the Bai family is looking to collaborate with us. This gift was a goodwill gesture, really.”
Zhou Yanxing’s expression seemed to ease slightly. “Is that so?”
Chi Zhan nodded with solemn sincerity, as though his words were etched in stone. “Absolutely.”
In the end, Zhou Yanxing let it slide—but only after ordering him to prepare a new gift and replace the card. No more emotional drivel. Find something appropriate online.
“Something like ‘May your blessings be as vast as the Eastern Sea and your life as enduring as the Southern Mountains.’ Keep it formal,” Zhou Yanxing instructed. “Secretary Chi, can you manage that?”
Chi Zhan was certain a card like that would make Young Master Bai explode. He was just about to lie through his teeth and agree when Zhou Yanxing added, “Look me in the eyes and answer.”
Chi Zhan lifted his gaze and met Zhou Yanxing’s eyes.
“…”
“Speak.”
“…Yes. I will rewrite the card. No need to worry, Director Zhou. I will take my leave now.”
“Wait—one more thing,” Zhou Yanxing said. “I do not care what their last name is. From now on, you do not see anyone unless I approve it first. If you let them in again out of pity, you will not want to find out what happens next.”
Chi Zhan had no choice but to stop. “Understood. Anything else?”
Zhou Yanxing waved him off. “You can go.”
Chi Zhan walked out, his steps unsteady. Zhou Yanxing also got into his car and drove off, flicking the greeting card into a nearby trash bin with practiced ease.
As for the crystal orb—he nearly tossed that too. He could not understand why anyone would be into something so flashy and useless. And pastel pink, no less. It looked like something meant for a teenage girl. Was that Bai Gongzi’s taste, or was it Chi Zhan’s?
By now, the subway had stopped running. Not that Zhou Yanxing would have known—he had no concept of everyday inconveniences like public transportation. Chi Zhan stood in the cold wind and hailed a cab.
Still, his mood was surprisingly good.
Finally off the clock.
Annoying boss, stressful job—whatever. Out of sight, out of mind.
The cab dropped him off at the supermarket. Chi Zhan came here every week to restock his pantry.
Chips, chocolate, cookies, instant popcorn—if anyone from the office saw his cart, they would be stunned.
At work, Secretary Chi only ate balanced, healthy meals. He was always polite, impeccably groomed, attentive to every detail. Who would have guessed he had a weakness for junk food?
The supermarket was warm with the heat turned up. Chi Zhan shrugged off his blazer and draped it over one arm. Still feeling hot, he unbuttoned the top of his shirt. His eyes curved as he smiled—a lazy, relaxed look rarely seen on him.
Certainly, Zhou Yanxing had never seen it.
“…”
Zhou Yanxing had only remembered the subway had shut down after the fact. He had meant to give Chi Zhan a ride, but by then, the man had already caught a cab.
It was a cold, windy night. There had been several recent reports of robberies involving ride-shares. Worried something might happen, Zhou Yanxing ended up tailing the cab all the way to the supermarket.
Only after seeing Chi Zhan head inside did he realize how bizarre his own behavior had become.
Chi Zhan moved through the freezer section, loading up on dumplings, tangyuan, and spring rolls. Then he headed for the snack aisle, carefully checking the production dates before piling his cart high with chips and puffed snacks. Just as he turned down another aisle, his phone rang.
“Xiao Chi, where are you? I’m off work already. I bought roast duck—it smells amazing. If you don’t get home soon, it’s going to be cold!”
The call was from Tao Ran, his neighbor—the first NPC friend Chi Zhan had made in this world. Tao Ran worked at an ad agency, left early, came home late, and was perpetually exhausted.
Compared to that, Chi Zhan’s job was pretty relaxed. Even with the occasional overtime, it never got overwhelming.
They were both young, like-minded guys with a shared love for junk food, fizzy drinks, and late-night takeout.
Chi Zhan laughed. “Almost home. Save me a drumstick.”
“Of course. What’s up with your boss today? Keeping you this late—what is he, hitting menopause?”
The supermarket was nearly empty at this hour. Only the soft hum of background music filled the air.
“It wasn’t really overtime… more like business schmoozing,” Chi Zhan sighed, thinking about having to deal with Bai Gongzi again tomorrow. “Sometimes I really wonder—maybe my boss is just emotionally stunted.”
Tao Ran had no such burdens. He only had to get his own job done. But Chi Zhan? He had to worry about Zhou Yanxing’s love life, too.
Still, the perks made it worthwhile—full benefits, double housing fund, weekends off, year-end bonuses, a fully furnished company apartment, and a great salary. At least money wasn’t an issue.
As he chatted with Tao Ran, Chi Zhan suddenly stopped in his tracks, glancing around with a furrowed brow.
He could have sworn someone had been watching him.
He was surrounded by shelves. A couple of employees were restocking items. The only person nearby was a man standing by the jelly display, seemingly deep in thought as he studied the labels.
