I wish the boss always smile

The next day at the company, Ming Shuzhen didn’t see Ming Shuyan at all.

No surprise—she had more than one business under her name; she couldn’t be at the office every day.

At her desk, Ming Shuzhen secretly scrolled through Ming Shuyan’s Moments.

Her feed was sparse—mostly reposts from the company’s official account or industry-related content.

“No human touch,” Ming Shuzhen muttered, scrolling to the bottom.

The first post wasn’t a repost but a photo.

Low-quality, slightly blurry, clearly old.

It showed a radio station—microphone, script, recording equipment.

The only “human” post in Ming Shuyan’s Moments, so Ming Shuzhen studied it closely.

No caption, and the date was years back.

“This station looks familiar,” she murmured, zooming in.

It resembled her middle school’s broadcast room, but school stations were similar, so it didn’t mean much.

Lost in thought, her finger slipped, tapping the heart icon. The gray heart turned red.

“…” Ming Shuzhen’s mind blanked.

“Crap.” She canceled it instantly, unsure if Ming Shuyan would get a notification.

Guilty, she shut her phone, heart pounding.

Meilin, noticing her odd expression, asked, “You okay? Feeling sick?”

“No,” Ming Shuzhen said stiffly.

“You’re traveling tomorrow. Any questions, just ask,” Meilin said, assuming work-trip stress.

“Okay,” Ming Shuzhen felt like crying.

Such an embarrassing slip, and with Ming Shuyan, not Zhong Shuo or Zhang Baobao, who’d laugh it off.

“Meilin-jie, do you know what candy the boss likes?” She remembered Ming Shuyan’s task, hoping to make amends.

“Candy?” Meilin frowned. “No memory of her liking candy.”

“What, upset your ‘sister,’ buying candy to make up?”

“What sister?” Ming Shuzhen groaned, woes piling up. “I have zero connection with the boss.”

“Not even a dime’s worth?”

“Not a cent.”

“…Oh,” Meilin dropped it, understanding Ming Shuzhen’s fear of favoritism rumors and wanting her work recognized.

Ming Shuzhen knew Meilin still didn’t believe her but let it go.

At noon, she hit a commercial street’s 24-hour convenience store, seeking non-sickly-sweet candy for Ming Shuyan.

In the candy aisle, she spotted something familiar.

In middle school, she loved a square chocolate with patterns—houses, cars, rockets. Hard exterior, gummy center.

She hadn’t seen it since, brand unknown, but there it was.

Picking a few flavors, she grabbed a nice gift box from the gift section.

Nearby were greeting cards. She debated writing one for Ming Shuyan.

It’d be formal but deliberate—not a birthday or holiday.

Her conflicted expression caught a clerk’s attention, who approached to pitch.

“These cards sell well. They’re embossed, with designs from Chinese folklore. That one’s the Qiantang Dream story.”

“Oh,” Ming Shuzhen examined the card—a man at a desk, inkstone, candlestick, in a trance-like state, like a scholar’s study.

A science major with limited humanities knowledge, she didn’t know the tale.

The clerk explained: “In the Southern Song, a famous courtesan, Su Xiaoxiao, died young. Sima Zhong visited her grave, dreamt of her, and they fell in love—a human-ghost romance across centuries.”

Not gripping, but the clerk’s effort convinced Ming Shuzhen. “I’ll take it.”

“Great,” the clerk said, ringing up her items.

“We’ve got markers too, want some?”

She grabbed a set of colored markers.

“Wishing Boss a constant smile,” she wrote in green, a cliché but elegant with her neat handwriting and the card’s design.

Packing the card and chocolates in the box, the clerk added a gift bag. Ming Shuzhen left the store.

Right outside, she ran into Ming Shuyan.

Face-to-face, Ming Shuzhen greeted, “Boss, what a coincidence.”

“Mm,” Ming Shuyan, likely there for lunch, seemed in a good mood.

She didn’t move forward.

Unsure if she should leave, Ming Shuzhen asked, “Boss, eating around here?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, you eat at these small shops too?”

“…” Ming Shuyan, silent, glanced at the gift bag.

Catching her gaze, Ming Shuzhen, for some reason, hid it behind her back.

“For someone?” Ming Shuyan looked away.

Ming Shuzhen pouted. “Boss, I clearly didn’t want you to see, yet you ask.”

“Heh,” maybe due to a good day or Ming Shuzhen’s unintentional pout, Ming Shuyan’s lips curved, her eye crinkles more pronounced, eyes sparkling.

“If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t ask.”

Ming Shuzhen missed the subtext, thinking, *Since you saw, might as well.*

She brought the bag forward, awkwardly handing it over. “You… you said you wanted candy, so I got this.”

Ming Shuyan, surprised it was for her, didn’t hide it.

“Oh, thanks,” she took it, equally awkward.

Ming Shuzhen, relieved, scratched her head, feeling the vibe was off.

She’d given gifts before, but why so awkward this time?

Then it hit her—the recipient wasn’t her peer. She feared it looked like sucking up.

Lost in thought, Ming Shuyan opened the box.

Her brow arched. “Chocolate?”

“Yup,” Ming Shuzhen nodded. “Loved these in middle school, couldn’t find them after, but saw them here. Not too sweet.”

“I know,” Ming Shuyan smiled, sunlight lightening her eyes.

“You know? You’ve had them, Boss?”

“Once,” Ming Shuyan said, nostalgic.

Before Ming Shuzhen could ask more, the clerk came out to empty water, spotting them and chiming in familiarly, “Oh, you got this for a friend? I recommended a love-themed card—oops, my bad.”

To Ming Shuyan, she grinned, “Your friend spent ages picking that card, very thoughtful.”

Ming Shuyan smiled kindly, thanking her.

Looking at Ming Shuzhen, her eye corners lifted. “Let’s go, don’t block their door.”

“Oh,” Ming Shuzhen followed toward the company building.

“How’s this love-themed?” Ming Shuyan studied the card.

“It’s the Qiantang Dream story,” Ming Shuzhen echoed the clerk. “Embossed.”

“Qiantang Dream?” Ming Shuyan glanced at it. “Oh, I know it—human-ghost romance, right?”

“Wow, Boss, you’re so learned.”

“…” Ming Shuyan stopped, turning to Ming Shuzhen. “Why didn’t you suck up like this before?”

“Before… I didn’t know you liked flattery, and I had no chance,” Ming Shuzhen muttered internally.

“Huh? I’m not sucking up, just stating facts,” she continued aloud.

“Tch,” Ming Shuyan looked pained. “I don’t like empty flattery. No need.”

“Oh,” Ming Shuzhen blinked, confused.

Ming Shuyan walked on; she hurried to catch up.

“Boss, why do you seem happy when I praise you?” she asked sincerely.

“Hm…” Ming Shuyan pondered. “I don’t like hollow words, but when you say them, I’m happier.”

“Huh? What’s that mean?” Ming Shuzhen looked baffled. Why happier because it’s her?

“Heh,” Ming Shuyan, seeing her innocence, shook her head, changing topics.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“!” Ming Shuzhen’s eyes widened, shocked her cool boss was so gossipy.

Leaning back, she forced a grin. “That’s so personal…”

“Don’t want to say, fine,” Ming Shuyan feigned indifference.

“…” Ming Shuzhen blinked, cleverly countering, “Boss, you first—ever been in love?”

“No,” Ming Shuyan answered swiftly.

“What? Really?”

Ming Shuyan laughed. “What’s real or fake about it?”

“But,” Ming Shuzhen sped up, anxious, “you don’t seem like it.”

“How so?” Ming Shuyan glanced. “Like you, reeking of milk?”

“What!” Ming Shuzhen protested, sniffing her arm. “No milk smell—I don’t even drink it often.”

Ming Shuyan, shaking her head and laughing, thought her question was silly. How could someone like this have been in love?