Comfortable pillow, sleep comfortably

At noon, Sister Meilin and Qian Duoduo invited Ming Shuzhen to join them for lunch.

Since Ming Shuzhen didn’t know where to eat, she eagerly followed them to the elevator.

The fish tank by the elevator now held several fish, creating a striking visual effect.

The little fish swam close to the tank’s walls, their tail fins flicking rapidly, light passing through their bodies to reveal flashes of color.

Meilin gave them a long look, her eyes full of admiration. “The boss sure knows how to pick fish. These are gorgeous, and she even paired them with a little black one.”

Ming Shuzhen found Meilin’s tone a bit eerie.

It was like those parents who blindly praise their kid for eating well.

She managed a stiff smile and stepped into a regular elevator.

Down on the first floor, Ke Mingpeng had finished her handover and was waiting for them.

“Shuzhen’s coming with us too?” Her voice was pleasantly surprised.

Ming Shuzhen smiled back. “I didn’t know where to eat. Thanks for bringing me along.”

“Psh, no need to be so polite,” Mingpeng waved her off, stepping out from behind the front desk to join them.

Across the street from the commercial building was a row of restaurants and shops.

Most Red Brick employees ate here, though some brought their own food, heating it in the break room’s microwave.

Ming Shuzhen followed Meilin and the others into a specialty restaurant.

After a morning of exploring the office and buying fish at Zhouzhuang, she was exhausted and hungry.

The four ordered separately. Ming Shuzhen got a mix of thin and crispy fries, cheesy baked potatoes, and black pepper pork with rice.

They ordered on their phones, and only when the food arrived did the others realize how much Ming Shuzhen had gotten.

Meilin looked at her with a pained expression. “You ordered all that?”

Ming Shuzhen scratched her head sheepishly. She hadn’t expected such large portions, but she could definitely finish it.

The fries were just a snack, the baked potatoes were like dessert, and the main dish—she could scoop it down with a spoon.

“I’m a bit hungry,” she said, blinking innocently.

She mixed the black pepper pork into her rice, scooping a big spoonful into her mouth.

The savory aroma of stir-fried peppers and pork mingled with the rice, spiced with black pepper, finally easing her empty stomach.

The baked potatoes, melted with cheese, were soft and stringy. Ming Shuzhen forked a piece.

“Want some? It’s sweet but not cloying.”

“Nah, I’m watching my weight,” Meilin said. Past thirty, she avoided sweet stuff.

Qian Duoduo grabbed a fresh fork, eager. “I’ll have some!”

Ming Shuzhen generously pushed the plate toward Qian Duoduo, inviting her to dig in.

“Mmm! So good, thanks, Full Pockets,” Qian Duoduo said, easily pleased by food.

She’d wiped off her lipstick before eating, and Ming Shuzhen noticed her lips were naturally pale.

“Are we having a team dinner tonight, Sister Meilin?” Qian Duoduo asked while eating.

“Maybe tomorrow? Not everyone’s here today,” Meilin mused.

“Sounds good. Mingpeng, you should come too. We’ll give Shuzhen a proper welcome,” Qian Duoduo said, inviting Ke Mingpeng.

Hearing they planned a welcome dinner for her warmed Ming Shuzhen’s heart, but she worried it might burden colleagues who wanted to head home after work.

“Won’t it be a hassle for everyone? You really don’t have to go through the trouble,” she said, concerned.

“Nah, what hassle? We love eating and drinking together,” Qian Duoduo replied. “Stick with Team Two long enough, and you’ll see—everyone gets along great.”

“Yeah, we often grab meals together. It’s like hanging out with friends,” Meilin nodded.

“Yep, I can vouch for that,” Ke Mingpeng raised her hand. “I’m like an honorary Team Two member.”

“Haha,” Ming Shuzhen relaxed. She’d only been with Team Two for half a day, but everyone seemed genuinely kind.

They chatted about random things, and Ming Shuzhen learned Meilin and Qian Duoduo’s real names.

Meilin was Liu Meilin, and Qian Duoduo—surprisingly unlike her vibe—was Yi Kexin.

Ming Shuzhen shared her own name’s story.

Her mother chose it: Shuzhen, sounding like “shuzhen,” meaning to sleep comfortably.

As an only child from a local family, Ming Shuzhen grew up without high expectations—just to be happy.

Never caught up in competition or compared to “other people’s kids,” she stayed calm and uncompetitive.

That mindset helped her overperform in big exams.

It’s how she scored way above her usual marks in the college entrance exam, landing at East University.

“Great name,” Meilin analyzed. “A wish to sleep comfortably sounds simple, but it’s so pure and challenging.”

“It means you’ve never suffered, don’t carry burdens, and can fall asleep easily without overthinking.”

“Haha,” Ming Shuzhen laughed, agreeing her name was fitting. She slept like a log.

“I think Mingpeng’s name is awesome too—so grand,” Ming Shuzhen said sincerely.

Among office workers, the conversation naturally turned to the boss.

They assumed Ming Shuzhen was Ming Shuyan’s cousin or something.

In their minds, these “sisters” were impressive.

One came from a wealthy family—her father a famous real estate and investment tycoon—yet struck out to build a successful business.

The other could’ve leaned on connections but kept a low profile, so unassuming that no one would guess she was the boss’s sister without the similar name.

“I noticed the boss seemed in a good mood today,” Ke Mingpeng said, observant from her front desk post. Ming Shuyan’s frowns were noticeably fewer.

Meilin and Qian Duoduo, who hadn’t seen her, listened to Mingpeng’s analysis.

Hearing these details, Ming Shuzhen realized Ming Shuyan usually frowned a lot.

She recalled the morning elevator ride, when Ming Shuyan’s face was indeed stern.

At the time, Ming Shuzhen thought she was arguing with someone on her phone, seeming unapproachable.

But during their fish-buying trip, though quiet, Ming Shuyan was considerate, not at all bad-tempered.

Ming Shuzhen shook her head, unable to pin down her boss’s personality.

Anyway, as a low-level employee, she’d just do her job and likely wouldn’t interact much with her.

Seeing her shake her head, Ke Mingpeng thought she was disputing her analysis, assuming Ming Shuzhen, as a “cousin,” knew better.

“Shuzhen, is that how you usually see the boss?” Ke Mingpeng asked.

“Huh?” Ming Shuzhen’s focus sharpened, caught off guard and unsure what to say.

“The boss… she’s probably good at makeup. Her look is so polished.”

And her clothes are expensive, she thought, but didn’t say.

“Makeup?” They hadn’t discussed Ming Shuyan’s makeup before.

Hearing Ming Shuzhen mention it, they agreed the boss was always polished.

With her wealth, she probably had plenty of time to pamper herself.

“Speaking of that,” Meilin set down her chopsticks, lowering her voice, “should I get my eye bags removed? I never noticed before, but now they’re the first thing I see in the mirror.”

They looked at her under-eyes, noticing they did stand out, making her makeup look a bit messy.

But they hadn’t noticed until she mentioned it.

“If you want it, go for it,” Ke Mingpeng encouraged. “Do it before the New Year—look great for the holidays. Winter’s good; less chance of infection.”

Qian Duoduo, knowing Meilin’s hesitation stemmed from fear, reassured her. “Don’t worry. I saw online that removing eye bags is way less risky than double eyelid surgery.”

“Really?” Meilin, hearing their support, felt tempted.

She’d researched eye bag removal. “I found a place, but I think they only take members.”

“They don’t take money from anyone?” Ke Mingpeng sighed. “What’s the membership requirement?”

“I forgot the details,” Meilin said, pulling out her phone to check the clinic’s app. “Let me see.”

“Oh,” she said with regret. “I never went because you need to spend 80,000 yuan there to become a member.”

“That much?” Qian Duoduo, ever money-conscious, balked. That could buy countless gourmet meals.

Ming Shuzhen nodded. It was steep—she’d hesitated over her 3,000-yuan coat.

“Which place?” she asked.

“Hale’s. I think it’s a national chain,” Meilin said, turning off her phone, giving up on the idea.

“Might as well go to a hospital,” Ke Mingpeng suggested.

“I checked hospitals too, but Hale’s gets the best reviews online,” Meilin said, conflicted.

“Those reviews might be fake,” Ke Mingpeng said skeptically.

A spark hit Ming Shuzhen.

Hale’s… isn’t that the beauty clinic my mom goes to?

Her mom probably had a membership. She knew her mother spared no expense on such things.

But worried it might not be the same place, she didn’t want to get hopes up. She sent her mom a WeChat message to confirm.

Ming Shuzhen’s mother, a university history lecturer, wasn’t old-fashioned.

Naming her daughter “Shuzhen” showed her laid-back nature.

Despite years at the university, she remained an associate professor, passed over for promotions.

The school favored STEM fields, leaving humanities shortchanged.

Eating lunch and checking her phone, her mom replied quickly: [Yes, I have a membership. Why? You going to a beauty clinic? How was your first day at work? Why a beauty clinic?]

She sent a flurry of messages. Ming Shuzhen replied, [I’ll explain later], satisfied with the answer, and turned off her phone.

“Sister Meilin, my mom has a Hale’s membership. You can use her card.”

“!” Liu Meilin was thrilled. She’d done her research, and Hale’s was indeed more professional with better service.

“Oh, I’m almost embarrassed,” Meilin said, her smile wide. “I’ll go after wrapping up my current work.”

“Great,” Ming Shuzhen said, happy to help. “When you’re ready, I’ll get you my mom’s card.”

Meilin laughed, amazed at how easily it was resolved.

Qian Duoduo and Ke Mingpeng exchanged a glance.

No surprise—Shuzhen, the boss’s “cousin,” came from money too.