"Boss, honestly, I don't understand this contract at all. Why don't you explain it to me? I really want to learn something."
"Come here. Look at this first. Responsibilities of Party A and Party B."
"Mhm. Got it. I've noted down the responsibilities."
"Pay attention to the penalty clause. The cap is thirty percent at most. See this part?"
I saw it. I also saw that if you took the little seal stamp in the margin and added two lines, it looked exactly like him. But this little doodle actually looks just like him.
"Keep looking at the next page."
I'd better just stick to watering the money tree tomorrow.
On Saturday I sat in the back row of a design class with a notebook I had bought specially, and thought about money. My salary is three thousand eight hundred a month. I already spent two thousand on this course. Can I really make a living just by touching contracts for the rest of my life?
"Hey, student." The teacher stopped behind my chair. "That post-modern intestine you drew is quite imaginative."
On Monday morning the boss was waiting by the money tree.
"Mascot. What were you doing on Saturday?"
"I want to improve myself."
"Every time you try to improve, the company takes a step backward. The two days you were out on leave, one client demanded a redesign and then bailed. Another logistics deal got stuck midway and also tanked."
Oh, man. Does my lucky charm constitution have a geographic range limit? Does it automatically deactivate fifty meters away from the office? So what am I — a business consultant, or a stationary ghost?
The whispering started before I even sat down.
"Some people get paid a fortune and are never seen around here. Just look at how chaotic the company has been these past two days."
"Exactly. Has the money tree started watering out sales figures yet? We're the ones who have to work overtime to clean up the mess."
Then the main line rang.
"Hello, Chaoshang Creative?"
"Is this Miss Su? I'm from that logistics company yesterday. It's a miracle. Luckily, those trucks got into a pileup on that road. If it hadn't been blocked, your entire shipment would have been ruined. So, as of now — delivering on time tomorrow morning."
Fine. I guess heaven is dead set on not letting me rely on my talent. But I refuse to give in.
Which is how, the following Friday, I ended up back in the classroom with the door open behind me.
"Where's Su Jin? Does she take every Friday off?"
"She's gone to a training class to study design."
"No wonder the company's performance has been sliding these past few days. Watch me go drag her back."
I knew none of this. I was busy with a mouse and a menu I did not understand. How do you adjust the saturation? The tuition was two thousand. I've got to make sure it's worth the cost.
"Hello, sir. Are you here to check out our courses?"
"I'm looking for someone."
"Boss? Why are you here?"
"Here. Take this." He put an envelope on my desk, in front of thirty strangers. "The company will reimburse your tuition. Stop taking these classes."
"Why?"
"On the days you aren't at the office, our performance drops by forty percent. The more you learn, the worse the company does. And no weekends, either. If you aren't there, I have to water the money tree myself."
"I'll take the tuition back, but no more classes. But you have to teach me personally, and go slow. Okay?"
The girl next to me waited until he was through the door before she grabbed my sleeve.
"Who's that handsome guy outside? He's even carrying apples for you."
"That's my boss."
"You call that a boss? He's totally chasing you."
Wait a second. When I signed up for this class, he checked my address. How did he know I was here? He actually stalked me.
Not having to go to class on the weekend is great, but sitting in that office prison for five days a week is brutal.
"Hey, mascot. What are you zoning out for?"
"So what exactly does a brand fortune consultant do, Sister Miao? Just sit there?"
"Exactly. Just sit there like a statue of Buddha on an altar. Unless you want to mess with the company's feng shui."
Being a Buddha is pretty boring. Am I just destined to be a workhorse?
"Hey, Su Jin." Chen Hao dropped a shoebox of receipts and a padded envelope on my desk without breaking stride. "You've been pretty free lately, right? Here, tape these receipts and get someone to ship this package right away."
"No matter what position Su Jin is in, she never forgets her side hustle skills as a gofer."
"That's what we call staying true to your roots."
Why should I do this kind of grunt work? It's because they don't respect me at all.
"Brother Chen, you can tape these yourself. I don't have time to ship your package, either."
"Su Jin, what's your deal? Thinking you're the company Buddha now?"
"Before Director Lin left, he specifically assigned me to focus on the new project contracts. If I mess up because I was busy taping receipts, or my hands got sore and the contract ends up botched, and it hurts the company's bottom line — are you going to take the heat for that, Brother Chen? Or am I?"
He looked at me for three full seconds.
"Fine. You win. I'll tape them myself."
"Not bad, mascot," Shen Miao said as he walked off. "You've learned how to use the boss's name to push people around."
Scared me to death. So this is what it feels like to act tough behind someone else's back. Pretty great.
Since you wouldn't let me go to that training seminar, I'm not just going to let that reimbursement money go to waste. Even an underachiever has dignity.
Oh, no. Why did I merge the layers again?
"What are you doing?"
"I'm teaching myself the design software, boss. But it seems like the software thinks I'm too dumb and just went on strike."
"Move aside."
He reached past me for the mouse and his knuckles brushed the back of my hand. Oh my God. I touched the boss's hand. Does this count as a work-related injury? Am I going to get my pay docked for this?
"Look here. Use the keyboard shortcuts to control it. Lock the layers first, then align them."
Man, this capitalist is actually pretty good-looking. How are his eyelashes longer than a girl's? And his skin is way too perfect. He doesn't even have a single visible pore.
"Got it?"
"Got it. Got it. Totally got it. You're the best, boss."
"Repeat it back to me, then."
"Repeat what? Just — press that shortcut key first, then lock it. And finally align it."
"You weren't even looking at the screen."
"I was, I swear. My brain's processing speed just can't keep up with my eyes."
"Redo it tomorrow. I'll be checking." He straightened up. "I'll drive you home after work."
That eternal ice-cold demon king. Was he actually just giving me a tutorial? And now he wants to drive me home? He's not going to keep quizzing me on shortcuts in the car, is he?
"Boss, you really don't need to quiz me anymore, right?"
"Shut up and get in. Sit in the front."
"Boss, I'm fine in the back. I don't want to distract you while you're driving. I'll just sit in the back."
"Sit in the passenger seat. I need the weight balanced."
I sat in the passenger seat. On the dashboard, mounted where a normal person keeps a phone holder, was a small wooden abacus.
"Boss, why do you have this thing on your dashboard? It's so vintage."
"Don't touch that. It's a fluid dynamics disruptor."
"A what?"
"It stabilizes the energy field."
What the heck is a fluid dynamics disruptor? This is obviously just a lucky abacus. A high-flying overseas elite. Is this level of superstitious nonsense really okay?
Hey, boss, why are you looking at me like that? What's he doing? Is it because I touched his abacus just now? Did I ruin the feng shui? Or is it because we're alone in the car and he finally couldn't help himself? Is he going to force himself on me?
"You didn't buckle your seatbelt. Do you want to get me points deducted?"
"I was just about to."
"You were just too slow. Sit up straight. Don't lean back."
"Why? Isn't a seat meant for leaning?"
"Today is a special day. Leaning back scatters wealth. Sitting upright gathers energy."
I'll just put up with it. Who else is paying my salary? I'll accept being a human lucky charm if I have to.
"Keep it like that."
"Understood, boss."
The special day turned out to be a private room in a restaurant with a lazy Susan the size of a dining table and a man already standing to greet us.
"Oh, Mr. Lin, we've finally been waiting for you. We must drink until we drop tonight."
"Hello, Mr. Wang. This is my assistant."
"An assistant, eh? Nice to meet you. Assistant, you'll have to have a few drinks tonight."
Oh, no. It's over. It's over. I'm the type who breaks out in a rash after just two sips of beer.
"Mr. Wang, I'll finish this first glass," Lin Chaoshang said. "You drink at your own pace."
I reached for the teapot to look busy, caught the rim of a bowl with my sleeve, and sent a full serving of soft-shelled turtle soup across the tablecloth and into Mr. Wang's lap.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Mr. Wang, I didn't mean to."
"Go and clean that up," Mr. Wang said to the waiter, without taking his eyes off me. "No rush. Mr. Lin, your assistant is a bit clumsy. Assistant Su has to drink this glass. Otherwise, we can't discuss this contract."