We are familiar with each other, right?

**Li Feiyuan’s House**

Ming Shuzhen spread her tool bag on the floor, bringing an arsenal this time to avoid another wasted trip.

The bedroom’s lights blazed. Li Feiyuan, hair a messy nest, squinted sleepily at them.

“By seven, I gotta take breakfast to my son. Hurry up.”

“Okay,” Ming Shuzhen checked her phone—just past 5 a.m.

“Mr. Li, you’re married?” she asked, unpacking tools, trying to break the ice.

The house’s decor and cleanliness screamed bachelor pad.

“Not married,” Li Feiyuan said darkly, clearly unwilling to talk.

He shut down the chat, so Ming Shuzhen fell silent.

In the predawn bedroom, curtains drawn, blankets tangled, the clink of metal tools echoed crisply, amplifying the stillness.

Ming Shuzhen was secretly relieved the boss was with her.

A self-built house, alone with a grim, silent man—she’d be spooked otherwise.

“Set up the thermal imager first,” Ming Shuyan said, seeing her fumble.

“Got it,” Ming Shuzhen replied, focusing on professionalism.

Ming Shuyan stood, arms crossed, inspecting the wall.

The morning chill clung, but her sweater was draped with a cape, silver vines embroidered on the shoulders like dew-kissed white flowers trembling in dawn.

She grabbed a hollow hammer from the bag, traced the wall seams, and tapped five points horizontally.

As she raised her arm, a pearl-studded belt peeked out, her black sweater hugging her slim waist, not an ounce of spare flesh.

Li Feiyuan’s bleary eyes sharpened, leering with a greedy, dog-like glint.

Ming Shuyan, back turned, was unaware.

Ming Shuzhen paused, stepping between them, her bulky down jacket shielding Ming Shuyan’s figure.

Li Feiyuan’s gaze was blocked, and he smirked slyly, unashamed, even thrilled by the challenge.

He met Ming Shuzhen’s eyes provocatively, his unwashed hair limp.

“Speed it up. Seven o’clock, my son’s breakfast,” he urged again.

Ming Shuzhen stayed quiet, her first brush with such a sleaze.

Ming Shuyan turned, noticing Ming Shuzhen’s tense posture and off vibe.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was gentle, almost maternal—rare for her.

Ming Shuzhen shook her head, swallowing her unease.

“Total station first?” she asked, recalling Ming Shuyan and Qian Duoduo’s questions about wall tilt.

“No need,” Ming Shuyan said, sensing her discomfort but not pressing. She had her guesses.

She pulled Ming Shuzhen closer.

Her wrist gripped, Ming Shuzhen was easily tugged to Ming Shuyan’s side.

“Boss is so warm,” Ming Shuzhen thought, feeling the heat from her black sweater.

Like a chick under a hen’s wing, she looked up, delighted by the cozy source.

Ming Shuyan caught her glance, looked down, and said coolly, “Thermal imager first.”

“Oh,” Ming Shuzhen sprang away, recalling Team Two’s dinner talk—Boss was “unapproachable.”

No slacking or daydreaming.

The boss had said to set up the imager, yet she’d asked about the total station—unprofessional, careless.

She hurriedly set up the infrared thermal imager, adjusting parameters and focus.

She’d memorized the manual beforehand and picked up tips at the Green Building Committee expo.

“Know how to find corners?” Ming Shuyan asked.

Ming Shuzhen nodded, holding the imager like a camera.

The device detected surface radiation energy to map heat distribution, identifying impurities or issues in the wall based on temperature differences.

The theory was clear, but humidity, temperature, noise, angles, and distance could skew results, requiring multiple images for analysis.

With only textbook knowledge, Ming Shuzhen struggled.

She randomly imaged two points.

The display showed blue, yellow, and green swirls—red or white indicated high heat, blue and green were cooler.

She fumbled for more points.

Ming Shuyan frowned, checking the bag for a light shield.

Luckily, Ming Shuzhen had packed one, folded at the bag’s bottom.

The ceiling’s incandescent bulb glared, distorting the imaging.

Without a word, Ming Shuyan unfolded the shield, blocking the light.

“?” Ming Shuzhen noticed the shadow, realizing her oversight.

She gave Ming Shuyan an embarrassed glance, feeling error-prone today.

Reading her mind, Ming Shuyan said, “First time, no experience—it’s normal.”

“Mm,” Ming Shuzhen nodded cautiously, but Ming Shuyan’s stern face deepened her guilt instead of comforting.

The results showed multiple red hotspots. With Li Feiyuan’s permission, Ming Shuzhen marked them with a pen.

Urged to leave, she quickly packed, and they exited.

“Inconceivable, Li Feiyuan’s got a son,” Ming Shuzhen muttered in the car.

Ming Shuyan glanced at her, silent.

Used to solitude, she wasn’t great at casual chatter.

“Mm,” she nodded seriously, trying to engage.

Ming Shuzhen didn’t notice.

In the passenger seat, morning light streaming, they drove back.

“Log these extra hours as overtime. Get a slip from finance,” Ming Shuyan said.

“Don’t go on inspections alone. Stay cautious.”

“I’ll join you for the wall demolition next time.”

“And…”

Ming Shuzhen listened attentively, waiting.

Ming Shuyan blinked, pausing unusually.

At a red light, she turned. “We’re friends now, right?”

“Huh?” Ming Shuzhen froze, neck stiff, staring incredulously.

Those words, from *her*? So awkward.

“Guess so,” Ming Shuzhen nodded mechanically.

“Mm,” Ming Shuyan relaxed, watching the traffic light’s countdown.

“Add me on WeChat?” she asked, turning again.

“Y-Yeah,” Ming Shuzhen snapped out of her daze.

Was the boss seeking friendship, or just a contact for work? She wasn’t sure.

She scanned Ming Shuyan’s QR code, carefully noting “Ming Shuzhen, Full Pockets.”

The *ding* of the scan pleased Ming Shuyan, lifting her mood.

The sun, just risen, cast soft golden light, brightening their eyes.

Ming Shuyan donned sunglasses, tucking hair behind her ear.

Maybe it was Ming Shuzhen’s imagination, but her lips seemed curved upward.

At the company, they disembarked together.

Ming Shuyan parked out front, not in the garage.

The car’s sleek silver gleamed dreamily in the sunlight.

Receptionist Ke Mingpeng spotted the car, knowing it was the boss, and straightened her uniform.

But Ming Shuyan wasn’t alone—Ming Shuzhen hopped out, lugging a big tool bag.

Ke Mingpeng’s eyes widened, struggling to hide shock.

She knew Ming Shuzhen was the boss’s “sister,” and the boss doted on her.

Still, it felt surreal.

Two people from different worlds stepping out of the same car.

As they entered the elevator hall, Ke Mingpeng texted Meilin and Qian Duoduo with the gossip.

Ming Shuzhen took the staff elevator, not Ming Shuyan’s private one.

Ming Shuyan glanced at her, wanting to call her over.

“Go up first, Boss,” Ming Shuzhen said, thinking it was a greeting. “Thanks for the ride.”

Ming Shuyan said nothing, gave her a quiet look, and pressed the elevator button.

—

**Fourth Floor**

Ming Shuzhen stowed her bag, sipping tea from Pocket Rich, zoning out.

Up early and busy all morning, she was drained.

But colleagues gave her no break.

Qian Duoduo, fueled by Ke Mingpeng’s tip, eyed her gleefully.

“Full Pockets, no scooter today?” she teased.

Ming Shuzhen, slow to catch jabs, answered earnestly, “I’ll ride tomorrow.”

“Aww, Full Pockets is so cute, chubby cheeks,” Qian Duoduo said, rocking dark green lipstick and a matching emerald brooch.

The sudden compliment threw Ming Shuzhen, but she returned it. “Your brooch is cool, matches your lipstick.”

“Full Pockets has such a sweet mouth,” Qian Duoduo said, her charm making the cheesiness natural.

Ming Shuzhen smiled genuinely, opening her laptop to log today’s data.

“Full Pockets, eaten breakfast?” another colleague from across asked.

Surprised—she barely knew them—Ming Shuzhen said, “Yeah, I ate.”

“Have some post-meal fruit,” they said, placing mangosteens on her desk.

Assuming it was normal coworker sharing, she thanked them and accepted.

But it kept coming—snacks and treats from all sides. Thanking everyone, she grew puzzled.

When the crowd dispersed, she whispered to Meilin, “Meilin Sister, what’s with everyone today? Why so nice?”

Meilin, in the know, understood—everyone saw her as the boss’s “sister,” and the boss clearly favored her, so they curried favor.

Beyond that, Ming Shuzhen’s cuteness and likability helped.

Meilin, practical and sincere, said, “They know you’re the boss’s sister, so they want to be nice.”

“Huh? Sister? Why does that mean they’re nice to me?” Ming Shuzhen rapid-fired questions.

Then it hit her, and she got Meilin’s point.

Their names alone—Ming Shuzhen, Ming Shuyan—sounded like siblings, sequential and familial.

Not clueless about social dynamics, she realized everyone thought she was the boss’s sister.