Maybe it’s just for you.

Ming Shuyan froze for a moment but quickly regained her composure.

“Oh…” Her light brown eyes, misted over, softened. “Alright then.”

“Mm,” Ming Shuzhen sensed the awkward air, nodding hastily, eager to escape.

“Boss, I’m heading to the company.”

“I’m going too. Together?” Ming Shuyan offered again.

“No, no, no,” Ming Shuzhen refused repeatedly, stepping back. “I run fast, and it’s almost time to start work.”

Ming Shuyan’s face visibly cooled, but Ming Shuzhen couldn’t worry about that. Avoiding the boss and shaking off the “nepotism hire” label was her priority.

Bag in hand, she bolted toward the building’s main entrance.

She knew the boss might find her rude, but dodging office gossip was worth it.

Today’s receptionist wasn’t Ke Mingpeng. Another girl saw Ming Shuzhen rush in, head down, and assumed she feared tardiness. “Slow down, it’s fine. Team Two doesn’t clock in.”

“Huh?” Ming Shuzhen, mid-sprint, turned her head. “How’d you know I’m Team Two?”

“Ha…” The girl looked sheepish, as if she’d misspoken. “You stand out. Hard not to notice.”

*Stand out?*

Ming Shuzhen blinked. The phrase felt forced on her.

Her parents never pushed her hard, and she was laid-back, content with participation trophies and “good effort” awards.

Though Ming Jianchang and Wu Yuanchu praised her to the skies, she knew it was parental bias.

So, a stranger calling her “outstanding” when she knew her own limits felt like flattery.

Why flatter a lowly employee?

Ming Shuyan’s face flashed in her mind.

Of course—they thought she was connected.

The more this happened, the more deflated and lost Ming Shuzhen felt.

All praise seemed hollow, everyone viewing her through tinted lenses.

“Thinking what?”

A cool voice cut through. The imagined Ming Shuyan became real, standing before her in 3D.

The receptionist watched, amused, as the two stood together.

“Boss?” Ming Shuzhen’s eyes widened, recalling how easily Ming Shuyan spotted her daydreaming.

Her right eyelid twitched with guilt. “How’d you get here so fast?”

She’d *run*, yet was caught up.

“Long legs,” Ming Shuyan said, giving her a cold glance, as if seeing through her thoughts.

Taller by a head, Ming Shuyan tilted down, like a lab scientist studying her specimen.

“Not going up? Didn’t you say you were almost late?”

The voice was chilly, hinting at Ming Shuzhen’s earlier ditch-the-boss move.

“Up, up, up,” Ming Shuzhen stammered, hurrying toward the elevator.

Ming Shuyan followed.

In the elevator hall, Ming Shuyan stood behind her, murmuring, “You know, in Shandong, there’s a custom: the leader walks first.”

Ming Shuzhen turned, grinning at her. “Boss, you from Shandong?”

“…No,” Ming Shuyan’s face fell slightly.

“Oh,” Ming Shuzhen caught the subtext but played innocent. “We’re not in Shandong. Can you follow a far-off custom?”

Ming Shuyan glared, a rare flash of emotion, scanning her as if wounded. “Bad mood? Or did I offend you?”

“No, no!” Ming Shuzhen denied, realizing she’d overcorrected.

Even if colleagues thought she was connected, no one had directly accused her of unfairness.

The rumors stemmed from their similar names, not Ming Shuyan’s actions. Yet she’d taken it out on her, avoiding and brushing her off. Anyone would be hurt.

The boss was so kind—letting her hitch rides, checking on her work. How could she repay kindness with coldness?

Recognizing her mistake, Ming Shuzhen’s face showed guilt. “Boss, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to target you.”

Intending a sincere apology, she met Ming Shuyan’s gaze, and the mood shifted again.

Ming Shuyan stared with interest, as if peering into her soul.

“I feel like you’re scripting a whole drama in your head. Got a flair for theatrics?”

“Huh?” Ming Shuzhen snapped back, her budding guilt fading.

“Boss, can you read minds?”

“No,” Ming Shuyan said, face still icy.

“Oh,” Ming Shuzhen blinked. “Feels like you know what I’m thinking.”

“…” Ming Shuyan’s pale eyes locked on her for so long Ming Shuzhen thought she wouldn’t reply. Then, slowly, “Maybe just with you.”

“What?” Ming Shuzhen thought she misheard, wanting to ask again, but the elevator opened.

“Boss, I’m going up?” she asked, eyes questioning.

“I’m taking this one too.”

“…Oh,” Ming Shuzhen eyed her suspiciously as they entered.

“Boss, what floor? I’ll press it,” she said, trying to ease the tension.

“Fourth,” Ming Shuyan said, watching her reaction.

Ming Shuzhen quickly pressed the button, standing stiffly.

Ming Shuyan, behind her, smirked, eyes glinting with amusement.

At the fourth floor, Ming Shuzhen exhaled, then tensed again.

Colleagues would surely make a fuss seeing her with the boss in the staff elevator.

As expected, as they stepped out, curious and probing glances landed on her.

Head down, Ming Shuzhen hurried to her desk.

“Boss,” Meilin stood, stepping into the aisle.

“Mm,” Ming Shuyan said, expressionless. “Team Two’s November summary done?”

“Done,” Meilin replied crisply.

“Send me a copy?” Ming Shuyan rarely asked, but Meilin ensured everything was in order.

“Mm, to my email.”

Ming Shuyan scanned the desks, her gaze settling on Meilin.

Meilin, seasoned in office dynamics, caught the hint. “Full Pockets joined in late November, so she didn’t write a summary, just a December work plan.”

“Oh, good,” Ming Shuyan nodded, as if her goal was met.

“Carry on.”

“Bye, Boss,” Team Two said in unison, giving her a respectful nod.

Ming Shuyan looked at no one, heading back to the elevator.

The fish in the tank swam happily, water crystal clear.

The elevator hall, dim without outdoor light, had a spotlight reflecting a bright dot on the tank.

Ming Shuzhen sat, watching Ming Shuyan leave, feeling oddly deflated.

So the boss came to the fourth floor just to check on the summary report.

Self-absorbed much, Ming Shuzhen?

After a bit at the company, she drove her little purple Mercedes to Li Feiyuan’s house.

At the alley’s mouth, she parked in an open space and got out.

As she did, the first house’s door opened.

A person emerged, holding two sticky traps, each with mice stuck to them—a grim sight.

Ming Shuzhen, never having seen mice on traps, stared.

Their tails and tiny limbs were glued down, exhausted from struggling, slumped lifelessly, dead or not.

The resident noticed her gaze and chatted casually. “Mice are a plague now, especially in winter. House is warm, they nest.”

“Try keeping cats?” Ming Shuzhen suggested, engaging.

“Don’t get me started. Years ago, this area was full of cats. Mating season? Ear-splitting yowls, couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah, cat cries are sharp,” Ming Shuzhen nodded, setting her tool bag down to talk.

The elderly resident loved gabbing, even with strangers. “You know what? One day, all the cats vanished! Gone, I swear. Scary as hell—no cats on the street, no night yowls. But then mice took over, squeaking in the cabinets, drives you nuts.”

Ming Shuzhen couldn’t picture it but shivered at the exaggerated tone.

“Pretty creepy,” she said, wincing with sympathy.

Ending the chat, she knocked on Li Feiyuan’s door.

“Huh?” The resident, tossing the traps, saw her destination and grew wary.

Leaning close, she said in dialect, “Girl, what’s your deal with that house? You’re young—surely not here to be his wife?”

“You’re too pretty for him. He’s got a mean heart,” she said, tapping her chest. “He’s the one who killed the village cats.”

“Cat killer?” Ming Shuzhen gasped, voice rising.

She wanted to ask more, but the door creaked open.

Li Feiyuan, hair a mess, peered out, glaring at the neighbor.

The resident, disgusted, turned back home to avoid trouble.