Confessing To An Annoying Boss

Cheng Peng walked in somewhat awkwardly, with his hands behind his back. “Xiao Qiao, are you done for the day?” he stammered. “Do you want to leave together? I’m just heading back to my dad’s place.”

It was quite a coincidence that the apartment Qiao Ziman rented happened to be Cheng Peng’s old family home. They only discovered this after a chance meeting.

Cheng Peng added, “My dad mentioned that the motion sensor light in the staircase of your building is broken. I’m planning to fix it, so it’ll be more convenient for you.”

Qiao Ziman’s mind was still filled with the terrifying image from the public account article. She glanced at the time and decided to leave work early. Grabbing her computer and bag, she smiled, “That would be great, thanks.”

“No trouble at all,” Cheng Peng scratched his head, his ears turning a bit red. He pulled out a meticulously crafted handmade flower from behind his back and handed it to Qiao Ziman, stammering, “Th-this is for you.”

His face turned even redder.

Qiao Ziman: “???”

Tang Xiaoxiao leaned in, teasing, “Oh my, what’s the meaning of giving our Qiao Qiao a flower?”

Cheng Peng stammered, “Xiao Qiao, I-I like you.”

Qiao Ziman had no romantic interest in Cheng Peng and only saw him as a work partner. She was about to decline when three loud knocks sounded on the door. They were very loud; everyone in the room looked toward the door, only to see Chi Yin leaning against the doorframe, her expression slightly stern as she gazed at the flower.

Qiao Ziman couldn’t help but feel that her expression was rather serious. She retracted her hand and broke the silence, “President Chi, do you need something?”

Chi Yin’s gaze shifted to Cheng Peng, and she stared at him unblinkingly. Cheng Peng felt a chill down his spine and awkwardly put his hands behind his back, saying to Qiao Ziman, “I’ll wait for you outside.”

“Wait,” Chi Yin called out to Cheng Peng, and his heart inexplicably started pounding. Chi Yin walked over to him and said in a low voice, “You can leave for the day.”

Cheng Peng: “But…”

A hint of coldness flashed in Chi Yin’s eyes, and a strong sense of oppression suddenly emanated from her. She spoke slowly and deliberately, “Qiao Ziman has to work overtime.”

Why do I have to work overtime? Qiao Ziman was extremely displeased. Seeing the gloomy expression on Chi Yin’s face, though, Qiao Ziman kept that thought to herself. After all, she’s the boss, so a bit of tolerance won’t hurt.

But this woman really is unpredictable, Qiao Ziman grumbled inwardly.

Chi Yin: “Come with me, I’ll explain the assistant’s duties to you.”

Qiao Ziman gave an “Oh,” apologized to Cheng Peng, and then followed her. The two of them once again walked one after the other into Chi Yin’s office.

“President Chi, please go ahead,” Qiao Ziman said as she casually threw herself onto the sofa, already familiar with the routine.

Chi Yin walked to the window and gazed outside. After a moment, she suddenly said, “Did I interrupt something?”

It took Qiao Ziman a moment to connect her words with what had happened earlier. She sat up a bit straighter and explained, “You didn’t interrupt anything.” Quite the opposite, she actually helped her out of an awkward situation.

Chi Yin gave a low “Mm.”

Silence fell between them again. Qiao Ziman was starting to feel awkward; she really couldn’t figure out what this woman was thinking. Straightening up a bit, she decided to focus on her role as an assistant. Sitting upright, she looked at Chi Yin’s back and said, “President Chi, shall we get to the main topic?”

After a brief silence, Chi Yin finally spoke, “A handmade flower shows no real sincerity.”

Qiao Ziman: “Huh???”

Chi Yin explained, “It’s nothing.” Then she asked, “Can you drive?”

Qiao Ziman was puzzled but answered truthfully, “Yes.”

Chi Yin responded with a simple, “Mm. Pick me up at the Starbucks entrance tomorrow morning at 8 sharp. Make sure to buy a medium iced Americano with half ice, double milk, and no sugar in advance. Also, revise the client’s draft and hand it to me tomorrow morning. I don’t like delays, so I’m afraid you’ll have to work overtime today.”

“Got it?” Chi Yin turned around, smiling playfully. “Write it down in your notes; after all, your memory doesn’t seem to be that great.”

Qiao Ziman: What does she mean by that? Why does it feel like there’s more to her words?

Chi Yin’s smile grew more pronounced. She walked over, placed the Maybach keys on the table, and tapped them with her finger, “You drive it back.”

“No way!” Qiao Ziman was shocked. Such an expensive car, and she’s just handing it over? She found a plausible excuse, “I haven’t driven in a long time.”

“Are you scared to drive?”

Qiao Ziman frowned, “If you’re not afraid, why should I be?”

“Mm, it’s settled then,” Chi Yin picked up her bag and walked towards the door but paused, “Oh, and one more thing. Remember to coordinate with Secretary Gao on the tasks, organize the files by category, and send me the digital versions on WeChat.”

After saying this, Chi Yin made a graceful turn and left.

WeChat? Qiao Ziman closed her eyes, feeling a bit hopeless. What was inevitable had finally happened. For the next half hour, she made virtually no progress on her work, as her thoughts kept drifting to that familiar ID in the work group chat.

Her phone screen dimmed and lit up several times. Finally, she opened the WeChat group again, her finger hovering over that familiar avatar. After a moment of hesitation, she clicked “Add.” To her surprise, there was no friend verification; she was taken directly to the chat interface and it was still stuck on the last message: “Thanks, not interested.”

Qiao Ziman immediately breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like there was still hope. Maybe they didn’t take it seriously at all. She decided to break the ice and dissolve this damn awkward situation. If she could clear things up, that would be even better.

Qiao Ziman glanced at the time, then gently typed a thoughtful message: [President Chi, did you get home? Rest early; I’ll pick you up tomorrow.]

Click, send.

“Whoosh.”

A glaring red exclamation mark popped up.

[Message sent but rejected by the recipient.]

Qiao Ziman: “…”

It felt like she’d been put in a timeout.