The boss is very flattering to the wallet

Ming Shuzhen opened her mouth to protest, “I’m not related to the boss. We’re not close.”

Just moments ago, she’d said they were “getting familiar” or “kind of familiar,” but now her words had shifted.

Meilin nodded with an understanding look, patting her shoulder gently. “It’s fine. We don’t mind if you’re connected.

People might just look out for you a bit more, but otherwise, it’s business as usual.”

“No, that’s not it,” Ming Shuzhen said, anxious to clarify. “I have *no* connection with the boss, Meilin Sister. Don’t misunderstand.”

“Got it,” Meilin said solemnly. “We all get it. Some things are better left unsaid, right?”

“You’re not getting it,” Ming Shuzhen groaned, practically in tears. How did she end up with the “nepotism hire” label?

“It’s just a name coincidence—pure chance. I only met the boss when I joined the company,” she explained desperately.

Meilin finally grasped her point but pursed her lips. “Impossible.”

“Why not?” Ming Shuzhen asked. Similar names were common—sharing “Ming” and “Shu” wasn’t that wild.

“Your acting’s pretty good,” Meilin teased, eyeing her expression.

“It’s not acting. We’re *really* not related.”

“I’ve been here years, and the boss always keeps work and personal separate. Never seen her favor anyone like this,” Meilin said. Ming Shuzhen’s frantic denial made her half-believe it, but the boss’s special treatment didn’t add up unless they were sisters.

“You went on that inspection, and the boss drove you, right? When you and Qian Duoduo picked me up from the procuratorate, she was the driver, wasn’t she?” Meilin listed the boss’s favoritism moments. “And that time you napped all afternoon—she didn’t say a word. You slept in the wrong spot, and she posted a photo of the rest lounge on the company app, clearly hinting for you to nap comfortably next time. And before that, she went with you to buy fish for our team’s tank—paid out of her own pocket, not company funds.”

“…” Ming Shuzhen listened, almost convinced *she* was the nepotism hire.

“That just means she’s a good boss who cares about her staff,” she insisted stubbornly.

“But!” Meilin shook her shoulders, trying to snap her out of it. “Everyone knows the boss is stone-cold, impartial. She’s never cared for anyone—except you. You’re the exception.”

“She’s really a great sister,” Meilin sighed.

“She’s actually pretty approachable,” Ming Shuzhen defended instinctively.

“Only to you,” Meilin countered, now even more convinced Ming Shuzhen was connected.

Ming Shuzhen felt exhausted, unable to explain further.

“Don’t worry, we won’t discount your efforts just because you’re connected,” Meilin reassured.

“Meilin Sister, I’m *really* not a nepotism hire,” Ming Shuzhen made one last plea.

“Got it,” Meilin mimed zipping her lips. “Topic closed. I understand.”

“Ugh,” Ming Shuzhen stared at the ceiling, her desk’s green spider plant suddenly looking chaotic.

Done with Meilin, she opened WeChat, urgently messaging her friend Zhong Shuo.

“Calling, calling!”

“Ranked,” Zhong Shuo replied, deep in her gaming world.

Knowing she was busy, Ming Shuzhen typed out her woes, expecting a reply post-game.

But the message was so long that Zhong Shuo glanced at the start and ditched her match.

“Listen, here’s the deal,” Zhong Shuo messaged. “The whole company thinks you’re connected, and no explanation will change that. It’s not bad. Your team seems to treat you like one of their own—no one’s assuming you’re incompetent because of it. Lean into it. You’re new to this industry, clueless, so ask, observe, learn. They think you’re connected, so they’ll give you face—use that to sneak in more learning.

“Next, let’s talk about your boss. If she’s as cold as your colleagues say, why’s she so nice to you? Only one reason: she wants something. But think—what could she possibly gain from you? Nothing, right? That’s why you need to stay sharp. Capitalists don’t do kindness for free—what’s her angle?

“Lastly, you’re missing the point. You’re here to work. Who cares what colleagues say? Off the clock, you’re Ming Shuzhen. On the clock, be a cold, emotionless robot. Why stress over this? You woke up at dawn for that inspection—praise your own effort! No one can deny your hard work.”

“Okay,” Ming Shuzhen replied, comforted by Zhong Shuo’s scolding. “I’ll just do my job. My colleagues are fair—they won’t think I’m slacking just because they assume I’m connected.”

“Exactly,” Zhong Shuo said, pleased. “I’m off to game. Drop this overthinking nonsense, got it?”

Ming Shuzhen chuckled. Her fiery friend, explosive in games, often won half her matches by trash-talking opponents.

Snapped awake, Ming Shuzhen dove back into work.

She analyzed the morning’s inspection data, wrote a report, and soon it was lunchtime.

“The mall across has a good deal card—cheaper than group buys. Wanna check out food options?” Qian Duoduo suggested.

“Sure,” Meilin said, rubbing her eyes, sore from staring at screens.

Ming Shuzhen uploaded her data to the Red Brick app and followed them out.

The midday sun warmed her, lifting her mood.

She snapped a photo of the mall, its facade gleaming gold, and posted it to her Moments with “Great sunshine.”

While editing, they entered the mall.

At peak lunch hour, shop staff handed out flyers.

Qian Duoduo collected them, studying each like picking a consort, then said, “Never tried this sticky noodle place. Wanna give it a go?”

Ming Shuzhen and Meilin, unfussy about food, followed her into the noodle shop.

After ordering and sitting, Ming Shuzhen scrolled her Moments.

Her post had likes and comments, including one from Ming Shuyan.

Her WeChat was “Ming,” same as her Red Brick app name, no nickname.

Seeing “Ming liked your post,” Ming Shuzhen recalled Zhong Shuo’s question: “Why’s your boss so nice to you?”

Was it nice? Driving her to inspections, adding her on WeChat despite not being direct colleagues.

But they had no real topics to chat about—no messages exchanged.

Maybe because they both liked Lady Gaga?

Clutching at straws, Ming Shuzhen dubbed herself a fellow Gaga fan.

After lunch, they strolled back to the company.

Leaving the mall, Qian Duoduo spotted Ming Shuyan.

“Isn’t that the boss?” She pointed, nudging Meilin.

They looked—yep, Ming Shuyan, heading toward the mall.

“Should we say hi?” Meilin and Qian Duoduo turned to Ming Shuzhen.

“Uh,” Ming Shuzhen screamed internally. *Why me?*

“Meilin Sister, Qian Duoduo, I *swear* I’m not related to the boss,” she insisted again.

But they didn’t hear, as Ming Shuyan walked straight toward them.

“Just ate?” Ming Shuyan asked, a rare initiative.

Meilin and Qian Duoduo, thrilled, nodded eagerly. “Boss, you eating here too?”

“Already ate,” Ming Shuyan said, answering them but eyeing Ming Shuzhen.

Ming Shuzhen, head down, glanced up, caught her stare, and quickly looked away.

Meilin and Qian Duoduo noticed the boss’s focus on her—expected, since she’s the “sister.”

“Take these back to the office,” Ming Shuyan said, handing over a box of desserts, noting Ming Shuzhen’s odd avoidance. “You okay? You seem low-energy.”

Ming Shuzhen mumbled, “Mm,” took the bag, and muttered, “Thanks, Boss.”

Ming Shuyan blinked, studying her thoughtfully.

“If you’re tired, use the rest lounge,” she said, addressing all but clearly meaning Ming Shuzhen.

Meilin and Qian Duoduo exchanged knowing, smirky glances.

Already guilty, Ming Shuzhen feared more misunderstandings.

Grabbing the bag, she blurted, “See you, Boss,” and yanked Meilin and Qian Duoduo away.

A few steps later, feeling safer, she exhaled.

“Full Pockets, your bank get robbed?” Qian Duoduo teased, seeing her tension.

“Huh?” Ming Shuzhen didn’t catch it.

“You’re all wound up, like you’re scared of something,” Meilin said.

They were joking, but it made Ming Shuzhen guiltier.

Face grave, she said, “Meilin Sister, Qian Duoduo, I’m *really* not the boss’s sister. We’re not related.”

“…Oh.”

“Got it.”

They didn’t buy it.

No wonder—nobody had seen the boss dote on anyone like this.

Ming Shuyan was a decent capitalist, but still a capitalist—focused on squeezing labor.

Yet look at her: Ming Shuzhen napped all afternoon in the wrong spot, and instead of docking pay or scolding, the famously aloof boss, who never posted on the app, shared a rest lounge photo to guide her to nap comfortably.

Not to mention firing Wu Zhengyu, chauffeuring her, delivering desserts.

If anyone else did this, they might just be warm by nature.

But Ming Shuyan? Too unusual, too rare—borderline fawning.

The boss was *fawning* over Full Pockets. Meilin and Qian Duoduo reached this conclusion.