The boss is a lesbian, use hot

In the fifth-floor lounge, Ming Shuzhen and Han Shuyu sat at a window-side table.

Opening the thermos lid released a rich aroma.

Ming Jianchang had added corn, yam, carrots, mushrooms, and pork ribs to the soup, its vibrant color sparking appetite.

Ming Shuzhen ladled a bowl from the thermos lid and passed utensils to Han Shuyu.

“Thanks,” Han Shuyu said, taking them.

Ming Shuzhen felt cheerful, chatting away. Han Shuyu mostly nodded, shook her head, or just listened, but the vibe was oddly harmonious.

Later, Han Shuyu finally tossed out a topic.

Wiping her oily mouth with a wet tissue, chopsticks and spoon neatly perched on her bowl, she said, “I’ve been house-hunting. Short commutes mean high rent. Low rent means too much time on the road.”

“!” Ming Shuzhen paused mid-bite, looking up. “Why not keep your current place?”

“My roommate got a girlfriend and moved in with her,” Han Shuyu said, visibly annoyed. “I can’t afford the rent alone—it’s over budget.”

“Your roommate?” Ming Shuzhen frowned. “A guy?”

“Girl,” Han Shuyu said curtly.

“Girl? Girlfriend?” Ming Shuzhen tilted her head, piecing it together.

Han Shuyu caught her tone, giving her a knowing look. “You didn’t know?”

“I-I know, of course I know,” Ming Shuzhen blinked rapidly. “I’m a product of nine years of compulsory education, with normal judgment and progressive thinking… you know, a person.”

“Heh,” Han Shuyu was amused again.

She studied Ming Shuzhen, checking if her worldview was shaken.

Thankfully, Ming Shuzhen seemed calm enough.

“Actually, I like girls too,” Han Shuyu said casually, watching her.

“Hm?” Ming Shuzhen’s eyes widened, but, realizing it was rude, she blinked furiously to shrink them back. “Oh… that’s, uh, nice.”

“Nice?” Han Shuyu, truly unfazed, spoke like it was an academic discussion.

“Well, maybe not *nice*?” Ming Shuzhen scratched her head awkwardly.

“Pfft,” Han Shuyu laughed. “Depends on the person.”

“Right, right, it’s individual,” Ming Shuzhen exhaled, landing on a safe answer.

“Hehe,” Han Shuyu chuckled. “You ever been in love?”

“Nope,” Ming Shuzhen answered honestly.

“Really? You’re so pretty.”

Hearing the compliment, Ming Shuzhen grinned goofily. “Dunno. I’m curious about you guys—how do you just… like someone? What’s it feel like?”

“Feel…” Han Shuyu lowered her gaze, recalling the exhibition center when Ming Shuzhen grabbed her hand.

She shook her head, swallowing her words. “Nothing special, just… your heart beats a bit faster.”

“…Okay,” Ming Shuzhen said. Hard to describe.

“The boss…” Han Shuyu squinted, a hint of edge in her tone. “She likes girls, right?”

“What?” Ming Shuzhen choked, unable to answer.

“I saw her on HER once,” Han Shuyu continued, unfazed.

Fearing Ming Shuzhen didn’t know, she explained, “HER, the L, a lesbian dating app.”

“Oh, what’s ‘the L’?” Ming Shuzhen asked, bewildered, her curious eyes on Han Shuyu.

“…” Han Shuyu sweated, feeling like she was corrupting a kid. “Lesbian! Female homosexuality!”

Her voice rose, drawing glances from people resting on the lounge sofa.

“Oh…” Ming Shuzhen flushed, whispering, “I get it, keep it down.”

“You didn’t get it,” Han Shuyu said, her expression lively around Ming Shuzhen.

“Uh, so the boss using the L app means she’s lesbian?”

“Not *using the L*, she’s lesbian, using HER,” Han Shuyu said, rolling her eyes at her own tongue-twister.

“Oh,” Ming Shuzhen nodded, finally getting it.

But whether the boss liked guys or girls seemed irrelevant to them.

“Look,” Han Shuyu pulled up Ming Shuyan’s HER profile. “This is her account.”

Ming Shuzhen peeked. No posts, a stock-like avatar, and an English username.

The bio read: *“Athlete, short temper, versatile, no creeps.”*

“This…” Ming Shuzhen frowned, skeptical. “Doesn’t seem like something she’d write.”

“Yeah, feels off from her vibe,” Han Shuyu agreed. “But some people are like that—prim in public, wild on apps.”

Wild? Playing big? The boss, unprincipled?

“Maybe let’s change topics,” Ming Shuzhen said. Gossiping felt wrong.

“Mm,” Han Shuyu nodded, glancing at her.

“Han Shuyu, if you can’t find a good place, you can stay at mine,” Ming Shuzhen offered sincerely. “My parents bought my place. I live alone now. You’d be good company.”

“Hiss,” Han Shuyu considered. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Ming Shuzhen said, understanding. “You’re welcome anytime.”

Han Shuyu smiled, grateful.

That afternoon, Ming Shuzhen drove to Li Feiyuan’s house.

From afar, she saw a big lock on the gate, her heart sinking—Li wasn’t home.

Rural gates were double, with a seam. She decided to slip the report through.

As she parked, the neighbor from the alley’s mouth emerged.

Ming Shuzhen greeted her first, smiling in local dialect. “Heading out?”

“Hey,” the woman recognized her. “Looking for Li Feiyuan again?”

“Little girl, what’s your deal with him? He hasn’t been back in days.”

“I’m from the inspection company, delivering his report,” Ming Shuzhen explained.

“Oh, inspection company,” the elderly woman said, unfamiliar with the term but reassured by “company.” “Good you’re not here to be his wife.”

She sighed. “Li’s trouble. Don’t want you tricked, young as you are.”

“Haha, no worries, Auntie,” Ming Shuzhen laughed. Her taste wasn’t *that* bad.

“You don’t know. At 15 or 16, Li got a girl pregnant, didn’t care for the kid. Recently, that kid bullied a teacher at school. Police came, and Li, foolishly, hid him.”

“Stupid. The kid needs reform, but Li’s playing dad, dooming him.”

The woman clearly pitied the child.

Ming Shuzhen stayed quiet, struck by how similar this was to Meilin’s dog friend’s story—a kid in trouble, hidden by a parent.

She slid the report through the gate. “Auntie, I’m done. Heading out.”

“Go, go. I’m off too.”

Ming Shuzhen noted her spryness despite her age. “Stay safe.”

“No worries, I’m off to do good,” the auntie said cheerfully.

“Good what?” Ming Shuzhen smiled.

“Li Feiyuan’s done bad. His parents were plasterers, had cement piled in the yard. He buried cats alive in it—heartless.”

Hearing this, picturing the cat skeletons, Ming Shuzhen’s heart jolted.

Looking at the mottled cement ground beneath her, her feet burned.

“Auntie, how do you know?”

“How?” The woman puffed up. “Knew years ago. Village cats vanished overnight—Li’s doing. Little punk wouldn’t admit it.”

“Told his parents he’d turn bad without discipline. They shielded him. Now he shields his kid, letting him stray instead of guiding him right.”

“I’ve got proof now. He was gone, door latched, not locked. I peeked inside—guess what?”

Ming Shuzhen’s heart raced. “What?”

“Walls full of cat skeletons. Scary,” she said, pulling out her phone. “My daughter recorded it. Animal cruelty—he’s done.”

Ming Shuzhen mumbled, recalling Li’s abrupt exit after a call.

He’d told her to lock up but didn’t say where the key was, so she’d just latched the door.

That must’ve been when the auntie slipped in, finding evidence.

Ming Shuzhen reflected—why hadn’t she thought to report it? Why didn’t she act?

“Auntie, want me to go with you to the police? I can drive.”

“Really?” The auntie eyed her. “You’re a kind girl.”

“You’re kind too,” Ming Shuzhen smiled, guilt easing slightly.

Helping the auntie into the car, she watched her buckle up, feeling for the first time that driving beat scooters—keeping the auntie warm in the cold.

At the police station, they filed the report, and Ming Shuzhen drove her back.

The auntie thanked her endlessly, inviting her over.

Ming Shuzhen declined. “Auntie, don’t tell anyone about the report. Li might retaliate.”

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled. “I know what’s what. I’m anonymous.”

“Li’s days are numbered. After his parents passed, he’s jobless, loafing, useless. My daughter says animal cruelty’s a public disturbance—detention and a 1,000-yuan fine.”

“And hiding a criminal—my daughter said that’s, what, years in jail?”

“Hiding a fugitive?” Ming Shuzhen supplied.

“Right, right!” The auntie laughed.

Ming Shuzhen smiled too. “Good. Justice served.”

“Yeah.”