“Let me tell you some gossip.” Yu Yueyue, who had a better grasp of the intelligence on their former company than their current one, said, “After we resigned, Feng Chujun must have gone insane—he fired your fellow townsman Sun Zhizhi, and then the company’s pretty streamer quit too.”

Xiang Zhen had known Sun Zhizhi was fired; Zhou Sicheng had told him to wait a few days and not to be anxious or angry. He had apologized to Sun Zhizhi, but Brother Zhizhi told him that Miss Feng Juan had contacted him privately, saying that once she bought out Feng Chujun’s shares, she would invite him back and give him a promotion and a raise, telling him to just rest for now and not look for other work.

Only then was Xiang Zhen relieved.

“Then why did the streamer sister quit?” Xiang Zhen remembered the streamer sister, who was an expert at cracking melon seeds, had once treated him to coffee.

Yu Yueyue narrowed her eyes, using her keen gossip sense: “Sun Zhizhi is a man of integrity. He used to accompany the streamer sister until one or two in the morning every day and gave her a ride home after work. One thing led to another, and they must have developed feelings for each other.”

Xiang Zhen: “Didn’t you say there is only hate between colleagues?”

Yu Yueyue: “Oh, love and hate happen in an instant. Remember when the streamer treated you to coffee? That was because you were so close to Sun Zhizhi.”

Xiang Zhen suddenly understood.

With the 618 major sales promotion approaching, Feng Chujun had driven away three customer service agents, one supervisor, and the only streamer, leaving the livestream channel completely vacant. The company was in total chaos. The family business wasn’t Feng Chujun’s alone; his elders were furious at his reckless behavior, saying that after returning from abroad, he understood absolutely nothing about real industry.

“Feng Chujun, in a fit of rage, sold all his shares to his cousin and said he was going to engage in AI. Feng Juan took over and immediately hired Sun Zhizhi and the streamer back at high salaries.”

Yu Yueyue said, “I heard from Finance that everyone got a raise and social security coverage. The three of us who resigned also got a severance package.”

The former company had surprisingly turned things around.

Xiang Zhen was pleasantly surprised: “We got a severance package too?”

Yu Yueyue: “Yes! Who would’ve thought! It might have been to spite Feng Chujun; I heard he was furious. Why not run the family business properly instead of licking the boots of those big shots in the AI sector? I’m waiting to see him lose everything.”

Xiang Zhen knew that Feng Chujun sold his shares to pay off bank debts and was on the verge of bankruptcy, but he held back and didn’t say anything, as that was confidential bank information.

Yu Yueyue happily tidied up the clutter on her desk, preparing to start work: “When the compensation arrives, I’m going to buy a bag.”

Xiang Zhen was inspired: “I’m going to buy my husband a wallet!” He’d put his bank card and their wedding photo inside.

Yu Yueyue: “…” She had already given up on trying to talk him into breaking up.

Xiang Zhen walked briskly back to his own office—his office was right next to Fan Hao’s. Fan Hao said he would bring him along to get familiar with the business of various departments first and let him choose a department freely after a while. If he still wanted to be in customer service, he could move and be with his old colleagues.

Just as he sat down, he received a link shared by Yu Yueyue:

[Recommending a good show, copy and open XX TV, watch “The First Half of My Life”… https://v……]

[The relationships among these five people are worth savoring.]

Xiang Zhen replied immediately: “I will.”

It was a long series; he would watch it once he had money to buy a membership to skip the ads. He wouldn’t dare slack off at work like Yu Yueyue. Spending time slacking off wasn’t as good as chatting with his husband!

Xiang Zhen looked around at his colleagues. Everyone had a cup of coffee on their desk—a treat from Fan Hao. He asked the person sitting closest, Xiao Zhang, “Is the coffee good?”

Upon hearing this, Xiao Zhang hurriedly took a sip: “It’s good. It’s freshly ground; I can tell.”

Xiao Zhang couldn’t just tell it was freshly ground; he could also tell that Xiang Zhen’s background was extraordinary. Ever since he started, he had been receiving one-on-one instruction from Manager Fan, who watched him like a hawk. When had Manager Fan ever been so pleasant to a subordinate? It was almost bordering on respectful.

Xiang Zhen sold the coffee, but it was Manager Fan who did the delivery. And then there was Xiang Zhen’s uniform—though he couldn’t recognize the brand, it was clearly expensive. Some of the tiny details on the sleeves weren’t even available on the market. Even the hair clip he wore was made of real diamonds, shinier than his wedding ring.

Xiang Zhen must be a young master from some wealthy family experiencing life in the workplace. Although he was pretending to be poor—it was hilarious; he was doing a terrible job of it. Xiao Zhang felt very safe drinking the 9.9-yuan coffee sold by the young master; the ingredient list was definitely clean.

Xiao Zhang said: “I’ll order ten cups tomorrow.”

Xiang Zhen couldn’t control the corners of his mouth from curling up: “Thanks for the review, dear.”

Xiao Zhang was flattered.

Xiang Zhen sent a message to his husband: “Husband, how are things on your end?”

…

Zhou Sicheng came from the basement, carrying a box of coffee, taking the executive elevator to maintain some dignity. He placed the insulated box on a table in an empty conference room, snapped a picture, and sent it back to his wife.

[I’ve arrived at the company too.]

Zhou Sicheng felt awkward for a moment. How was this any different from a delivery driver sending a “delivered” photo?

[Xiang Zhen: Husband, you are a hero.]

Hero, his foot.

The president had already arrived, and the executives didn’t dare to dawdle, quickly gathering in the conference room. A few executives who didn’t usually work the morning shift had impulsively ordered coffee, only to have to wake up early to get it.

In the intelligent conference room, Zhou Sicheng sat at the head of the table, his silhouette cold and solemn. A circle of coffee cups sat on the oval table. The executives felt their hearts skip a beat.

Beware of President Zhou using coffee as a pretext to force a meeting!!!

Zhou Sicheng swept his gaze across them: “Sit down, everyone.”

They no longer dared to mock the elderly folks lining up for eggs; everyone had their own “eggs” to pick up. The executives squeezed in, found the coffee they had ordered, pried off the seal, and took a small sip.

It really was the President’s wife’s handiwork; the ingredients were incredibly rich. They praised it in turn, struggling to come up with adjectives—heaven knows some of them usually only drank tea and never coffee. They could critique tea-making techniques, but they only knew that coffee tasted a bit bitter.

Zhou Sicheng: “I hear that some people are overly dependent on their secretaries to write drafts, and when faced with sudden interviews, they are completely empty-headed.”

“That won’t do.”

“Write an 800-word review of the coffee. Get to it. Whoever finishes first can leave.”

The executives: “…”

What is this, early in the morning?

Zhou Sicheng: “If you can’t write, drink more coffee to stay awake.”

The executives gripped their pens, their faces stern. Some forgot characters the moment they picked up the pen; after writing one line, they felt like idiots, quickly crossed it out, and flipped the A4 paper over. Some, thinking they were far enough away, pretended to answer a call or check messages, taking out their phones to open “Xiao Kuibao.”

[Xiao Kuibao, give me an 800-word essay on tasting coffee. Emphasize that there is fragrance within the bitterness, sweet after the bitter, and combine it with the century-long entrepreneurial history of the Zhoufu Group. It must have substance and not be a template.]

[Xiao Kuibao: Sorry! During the Gaokao (College Entrance Exam) period, the 800-word essay writing service is suspended. Be honest in exams; cheating is prohibited. Do you need me to provide you with some ideas instead?]

The executive: “…”

Is it Gaokao today? Xiao Kuibao, you let me down at such a crucial moment. I’m not voting for you next time.

Zhou Sicheng narrowed his eyes and tapped the table: “Manager Zhao, are you downloading a competing AI? No one can help you today.”

Manager Zhao: “…No.”

Of course, with the exception of a few, most executives were slick individuals who knew how to talk their way through anything. They wrote with divine inspiration, briefly evaluated the coffee, and then started flattering President Zhou to fill up the word count, doing their best to praise the “heaven-made match” between the President and his wife—even though they had never met her.

There was only one person among them who didn’t fit in: Shen Ku. He wasn’t even an employee of the Zhoufu Group. Zhou Sicheng was puzzled. Xiang Zhen’s social media post said it was delivered to the cubicles at Zhoufu Headquarters, which was why the HQ executives had responded. Why was an engineer from another company joining in on the fun?

Three years ago, the Zhoufu Group invested in building a new office park, wanting to design a landmark complex that could instantly reflect the enterprise’s spirit of “ceaseless renewal.” A design scheme featuring four joint buildings themed around “Earth’s Revolution” was approved. Construction of this park had been contracted out, and Shen Ku was the lead project engineer for the winning firm—one of the best technicians in the country.

Zhou Sicheng had added him on WeChat to ask a few feasibility questions. After that, they hadn’t chatted again. People who deal with construction blueprints must rely on caffeine. Could this Shen Ku be a coffee addict?

Zhou Sicheng sent him a message: “You don’t need to write one.”

After Shen Ku took a sip of the coffee, his expression remained very calm. Half an hour later, he handed over a standard review of the coffee, complete with a drawn concentration-to-flavor curve.

Zhou Sicheng felt that the look Shen Ku gave him was extremely complex, filled with something just about to burst out.

What could it be?

Zhou Sicheng looked down at the paper, suspecting it contained some unspeakable code. Perhaps Shen Ku had discovered a conspiracy involving corner-cutting or corruption during the construction, but was being pressured by his superiors to stay quiet.

Zhou Sicheng looked it over again and again, but only saw the word “coffee” all over the page.

Strange. I’ll make an appointment to talk to him some other day.

Zhou Sicheng collected 35 coffee survey reports, placed Shen Ku’s on top, and called Xiang Zhen via video, his tone carrying a rare note of seeking credit.

“Wife, I’ve collected some suggestions for improving the coffee flavor.” Zhou Sicheng thumbed through them, flipping quickly so Xiang Zhen wouldn’t take a close look at the embarrassing stuff the executives had written.

Xiang Zhen was stunned. Xiao Zhang in his office had only said “it’s good.” Zhou Sicheng must have been very humble and persuasive for his colleagues to be willing to handwrite such long appraisal reports. Besides Zhou Sicheng, who else would do so much for him?

“Husband, you are too kind.” Xiang Zhen was deeply moved. “Yueyue said you’ve never been this attentive to any of my friends before. Husband, are you falling more and more in love with me?”

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

It didn’t need analysis to know that wasn’t a compliment.

Once analyzed, it just made his vision go dark.

So, doing all this ended up being labeled as ‘attentive to Xiang Zhen’s friends.’ The more he did, the more wrong he was.

He was being treated like a fool. He should have just vomited up the severance package he gave.

Zhou Sicheng said angrily: “Don’t hang out with her in the future.”

Xiang Zhen: “Oh.”

Just as he didn’t take Yueyue’s complaints about his husband being stingy to heart, he treated Zhou Sicheng’s hatred for Yueyue as wind passing his ears. Xiang Zhen was smart; this was called “listening to all sides to be enlightened.”

Xiang Zhen: “Husband, it’s Gaokao today. What did you score back in the day? Did you sweep the board?”

Zhou Sicheng: “Not much, just first place in the district.”

Xiang Zhen: “First place in the district! Husband, then I’ll reward myself to you.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Sign for it tonight.”

Xiang Zhen hung up the phone with reddened cheeks and scrolled through short videos for a while to cool down. Today’s trending topics were naturally about the Gaokao.

Xiang Zhen pondered for a while, and during his lunch break, he went to the nearest exam venue. He still remembered his dream of getting rich by selling sunflower bouquets outside exam sites next year.

He decided to check out the “competitors” first. To his disappointment, even though the sunflowers were of excellent quality, no one was selling them at the sky-high prices of a 985 or 211 university. There was an extra decimal point missing! Perhaps Uncle Zhang’s sales channels were different; he’d have to ask him next time they met.

Xiang Zhen didn’t see Uncle Zhang, who usually came to his place to purchase sunflowers, but there were many vendors at the site selling fresh-cut sunflowers and even cooked sunflower seed flower heads. Each flower head weighed a full pound, with hundreds of plump seeds packed tightly in ring after ring. These were the improved edible sunflower varieties.

Xiang Zhen stopped in front of the flower heads, watching them closely, his expression turning solemn: “They look really good to eat.”

He touched his own hot forehead and suddenly felt the sun was a bit too intense.