The boss finally protected his calf

Ming Shuzhen’s smile froze on her face.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but the surroundings seemed to hush suddenly, lights blurring, her vision narrowing to the person before her.

A faint fragrance clung to them, so subtle she had to sniff hard to catch it.

Their scarf was stunning, more dreamy than Monet’s water lilies.

Their eyes were exquisite, lashes thick and dark, fanning out like tiny brushes.

But the moment was too awkward. Sweat beaded on Ming Shuzhen’s forehead, too flustered to admire the boss’s beauty.

“What’s going on?” Ming Shuyan frowned.

Her eyes stayed on Ming Shuzhen, but her sharp tone was directed at Wu Zhengyu.

Wu Zhengyu, noting Ming Shuzhen’s badge number earlier, had pegged her as someone connected—Team Two inspectors rarely got front-row seats, and her rookie vibe screamed no technical prowess.

“Nothing much,” he said flippantly, aiming to downplay it.

Leaning in, he mocked her badge. “Full Pockets? Team Two loves these tacky gimmicks.”

“This Full Pockets here was gossiping, spinning tales about colleagues’ relationships. I let it slide—she’s young, hasn’t learned manners yet.”

He snorted, neck stiff, acting magnanimous.

Ming Shuzhen, knowing she was wrong to gossip in public, flushed with shame. “I spoke out of turn.”

Han Shuyu glanced at her, surprised, head dipping as if to speak but holding back.

“I shouldn’t have speculated about you. I’m sorry,” Ming Shuzhen said to Wu Zhengyu, deflated.

“Haha, told you,” Wu Zhengyu crowed, used to flattery, now smug at her apology. “Youngsters these days—no hardship, no humility. They don’t know their place, getting cocky, acting untouchable.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m too kind, indulging you all, giving you chances to overstep,” he pontificated.

The hall buzzed with chatter, machines whirring, tools clinking.

Few noticed the conflict.

But Ming Shuzhen felt slapped, her face burning.

“Leader Wu,” she interrupted his smug spiel.

“Gossiping was wrong, and I apologized. But you disrespected a junior, using your seniority to bully. Shouldn’t you apologize too?”

“What?” Wu Zhengyu blinked, stunned. No one spoke to him like that.

“Who do you think you are, lecturing me?” His eyes bulged, red veins popping, radiating hostility.

Ming Shuzhen flinched but pressed on. “During the ceremony, I passed you. You kept your legs crossed, knowing I needed to get by.”

She tugged her pant leg, showing the grimy footprint. “Not sure if you stepped in dog crap or chicken dung, but your shoe was filthy. I didn’t ask you to wash my clothes—that’s generous enough.”

“Also, the Party issued a directive in 1998 for cadre integrity. You love flattery so much, you lack political awareness. You probably couldn’t even qualify as a Party member.”

“!” Wu Zhengyu stared, incredulous that she’d fight back without sparing his ego.

Han Shuyu, about to defend her, paused, impressed by her boldness, a smile tugging at her lips.

“I’m partly to blame,” Han Shuyu said. “Leader Wu always tells us young folks not to outshine him, to credit superiors for achievements. So we put his name on reports and proposals, even if he contributes nothing and vanishes during work hours. We’re so grateful—without his ‘guidance,’ we wouldn’t sacrifice personal time. Team One’s all love, no backstabbing. Knives are handed face-to-face.”

“Team One’s known for top skills and analysis, but we’ve achieved little. We feel unworthy. Thankfully, Wu gives us endless, pointless tasks to ease our guilt. He truly sacrifices for the company’s growth.”

Ming Shuzhen blinked rapidly, stunned by Han Shuyu’s razor-sharp sarcasm, outdoing Green Sister and Xiao Fang.

‘She should write novels,’ Ming Shuzhen thought. ‘Or host broadcasts—her Mandarin’s at least Grade 2-A.’

Han Shuyu must’ve endured a lot to unleash like that.

Then Green Sister and Xiao Fang joined in.

Both sharp and logical, they’d be promoted if not for Wu’s suppression. Their usual venom now turned on him, words dripping poison.

Wu Zhengyu, humiliated, stared at the floor.

Ming Shuyan, silent through it all, watched.

The group, venting done, glanced at the boss.

Han Shuyu reverted to her icy demeanor, as if she hadn’t just roasted Wu.

Ming Shuzhen pouted, hoping she wouldn’t lose her new job. The boss didn’t seem unreasonable.

Sure enough, Ming Shuyan spoke to Wu Zhengyu. “Leader Wu, you dirtied her pants. Apologize.”

“Too much,” Ming Shuzhen quipped, neck stiff. “He loves titles, Boss. Shouldn’t you say ‘you’?”

“…” Ming Shuyan shot her a helpless look.

Wu Zhengyu stayed mute—apologizing was unthinkable; he couldn’t lose face.

And with his credentials and years at the company, the boss wouldn’t cross him over this.

“Fine, let’s drop it. I won’t hold your gossip against you,” he huffed.

“No, you should,” Ming Shuzhen mocked. “I was so out of line, slandering you. I’m riddled with guilt.”

“Enough,” Ming Shuyan cut in. “There are more booths to see. Full Pockets, go tour with your colleague.”

“Oh.” With the boss calling a truce, they complied.

Ming Shuzhen’s mood sank as she followed Han Shuyu away.

After some distance, Han Shuyu spoke. “Thought the boss would finally back someone, but nope—big issue, small resolution.”

She snorted. “Typical capitalist. Wu’s shameless, but his skills keep him safe.”

Ming Shuzhen, quick to anger and quick to cool, grinned. “Heh, Shuyu Sister, you’re pretty emotional.”

“Hmph,” Han Shuyu went cold again.

“But from your tone, has this happened before, and the boss just watched?” Ming Shuzhen asked.

“Mm,” Han Shuyu nodded icily. “Wu stole a subordinate’s credit before. They clashed, and the subordinate left.”

“What!” Ming Shuzhen gasped. “The boss… doesn’t care about right and wrong?”

She shivered. Wu had credentials and skills—flawed leader, but better than her. A Tsinghua grad, sure, but her major was lightweight, and as a rookie, she couldn’t even solve a wall noise issue.

Was she about to get fired?

She looked at Han Shuyu, pitiful. “Shuyu Sister…”

Han Shuyu, unaware of her panic, felt exhilarated after venting. “I’ve held back so long. Stop calling me ‘sister’—it’s like a curse, so annoying.”

“Oh,” Ming Shuzhen said, surprised. “What then?”

“Han Shuyu, just Han Shuyu!”

“Okay, Han Shuyu,” Ming Shuzhen stammered. “Will the boss fire us?”

“Why would she?”

“You said she doesn’t care about fairness. Wu’s a jerk but skilled, so she’ll protect him.”

“Still gossiping without learning?” Ming Shuyan’s voice cut in.

Ming Shuzhen froze, turning slowly, forcing a smile. “B-Boss.”

“Just ‘Boss,’ not ‘B-Boss,’” Ming Shuyan said, exasperated, glaring.

Thinking it was about the stutter, Ming Shuzhen corrected, “Right, Boss.”

Actually, Ming Shuyan was frustrated at her blatant gossiping—so reckless in public. So naive.

“About that subordinate clash,” Ming Shuyan said to Han Shuyu. “You weren’t here then, so you don’t know. That subordinate was Liu Meilin, now Team Two’s leader. She had issues with Wu and didn’t want to stay in Team One.”

“I promoted her to Team Two leader—better pay, better benefits. Wu wrote a self-criticism, got a pay cut, and returned Meilin’s work credit. He’d just bought a house, with a mortgage. I couldn’t fire him.”

Ming Shuzhen, hearing the full story, felt like she’d heard a saga.

Meilin mentioned leaving Team One due to stress but never badmouthed Wu—a true class act.

“Shuyu Sister,” Ming Shuzhen said.

“I said Han Shuyu!” Han Shuyu snapped, puzzled at her own outbursts today.

“Okay, Han Shuyu,” Ming Shuzhen said, a bit hurt. “Are we still touring?”

“Of course. Why not?”

“Oh, thought you lost interest.”

“Plenty of interest.”

“Am I invisible?” Ming Shuyan interjected, watching their banter like she was air.

“Uh, Boss, want to join us?” Ming Shuzhen offered.

“No thanks,” Ming Shuyan said, half-pouting, half-teasing.

“Then we’re off, Boss,” Ming Shuzhen said, grabbing Han Shuyu’s hand and bolting.

Ming Shuyan: “…”