In the stream, the young streamer let out a soft laugh, smacked his lips, and said,
“Still, the boss’s face does add a bit of color to my black-and-white corporate drone life.”
Ji Wenze shook off his drowsiness, frowning as he picked up his phone. The barrage of comments was filled with laughter, clearly used to this kind of talk.
【…You little liar】
【Yeah right. Last time you saw a police dog in the subway, you said it was as handsome as Execut2】
【Didn’t you also say a delivery guy sounded like your ‘god’ and asked if he could deliver again】
【Diagnosis: substitute fantasies gone too far】
【Corporate slave streamer hallucinating before collapse】
The streamer sighed.
“…That’s true. My boss doesn’t have that cold, aloof aura like a police dog. Overall, he’s not as good as a police dog.”
…So he didn’t recognize him.
The “boss” who had just been rated “inferior to a police dog” felt, strangely, relieved.
The topic didn’t linger. As the finals recording finished loading, the streamer cleared his throat.
“Alright, CN region Stage 2 playoffs finals—ICG versus TKU. Let’s start with the BP…”
His commentary voice was steady and articulate. Ji Wenze listened carefully for a couple of seconds but still didn’t find it familiar.
His fingers tapped lightly against the glass. After a moment, he finished the last sip of orange juice, exited the stream, and opened WeChat to message Xue Jian.
【Do you know what Respit2 does now?】
Xue Jian replied almost instantly.
【You mean his job? Not sure. Just know he’s in design—always busy, always drawing.】
【Why are you suddenly interested in him?】
【Then again, you were always kind of interested before.】
【200k young master.】
Ji Wenze replied with six dots.
Design… drawing… that did sound relevant.
【Saw his stream leave request saying he had to pick up his boss. Got curious.】
【Which company?】
Xue Jian: 【No idea… there are tons of those in Shanghai. Why, you want to poach him? That’d be great, I can connect you!】
That seemed to trigger something, and Xue Jian went off.
【I’m telling you, his boss sucks.】
【Res has terrible alcohol tolerance. He said himself he can only drink a bottle cap—no exaggeration.】
【Couple years ago his boss dragged him to a business dinner to block drinks. Deal didn’t go well, and guess what? Res drank until he almost collapsed, and his boss just left him there on the restaurant steps. The kid sat there half the night. Damn it.】
【Luckily we were in Shanghai too. Our ICG captain’s friend Pupu called him for ranked, didn’t get an answer, called at midnight and found out.】
【Picked him up at 4 a.m., soaked from the rain, burning with fever!】
…
The messages kept coming, and Ji Wenze’s expression grew darker, all traces of amusement gone.
【He has a good educational background, right?】 he asked.
Xue Jian didn’t know specifics.
【Pretty insane. One of a kind among streamers.】
Outgoing, cheerful. Good education. Design department. Strong performance. Can only drink a bottle cap…
Ji Wenze tapped his fingers against his knee. No clear candidate came to mind. He pressed his temple and exhaled.
【Got it.】
The next day, Yu Sibai clocked in right on time. After the beep, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion.
Sleepy.
He’d finished reviewing the finals at 3 a.m.—and that was only because ICG had cleanly swept 3–0. Otherwise, he might’ve streamed all night.
He rubbed his eyes and had just started walking when someone called from behind.
“Group Leader Yu, rare to see you this late.”
He turned around to see a familiar face—Qian Chong, nephew of Qian Yuanxin, and the head of Team Two, his long-time rival.
Leaning lazily by the time clock, Qian Chong struck a pose like a bad imitation of a celebrity.
“Heard you refused to accompany President Ji to a business dinner yesterday?” He shook his head. “I’ve told you many times—young people need to lower themselves.”
Yu Sibai wasn’t in a rush and didn’t mind chatting on company time—especially with someone as harmlessly talkative as Qian Chong.
So he stopped and replied casually, “Guess Team Leader Qian just has more energy.”
That encouraged Qian Chong.
“Don’t underestimate yourself. Remember when you first became team leader? Just your face alone made clients like you.”
Seeing no response, his smile widened.
“You probably don’t know—President Ji is inspecting our Team Two project today. Such a pity… if you’d gone to that dinner, maybe he would’ve come to Team One first.”
Yu Sibai raised a brow. “So you’re saying President Ji’s schedule came from your charm?”
Qian Chong’s face darkened. “Watch your words.”
Yu Sibai studied him for two seconds, then closed his eyes and looked away.
“Yeah. Doesn’t seem like it’d sell for much anyway.”
“You—!” Qian Chong slammed the time clock, trembling with anger.
“Don’t think you can act however you want just because Director Qian’s gone. When I become director, will you still dare talk like this?”
Yu Sibai tossed his badge in the air and caught it. “Was I not insulting your uncle enough?”
Qian Chong stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You may not care about losing your job—but what about your team?”
Yu Sibai paused.
“Afraid now?” Qian Chong sneered—
“Team Leader Yu, what a coincidence.”
A crisp female voice cut in.
A neatly dressed woman approached. “I’m President Ji’s assistant, Yang Mengyue. I’m here to relay a message—he’d like you to accompany him to meet a client tonight. I’ll send the time and address later.”
“What?” Qian Chong couldn’t believe it. “Didn’t he refuse yesterday? Why him again?”
Yang Mengyue only glanced at him briefly before smiling at Yu Sibai.
“President Ji said yesterday’s invitation was too late to count. Today, he asked me to inform you immediately.”
“Thank you,” Yu Sibai replied, then glanced at Qian Chong.
Qian Chong’s face turned dark as he left.
“…But sorry, I have overtime tonight,” Yu Sibai added.
Qian Chong nearly stumbled in shock.
Refuse twice?!
“President Ji also said,” Yang added calmly, “tonight’s host is President Duan from Hengyun Real Estate. He hopes you’ll attend.”
Yu Sibai froze.
“Hengyun? The Yuheng Villas project?”
“Yes.”
His expression tightened.
Hengyun was a major high-end developer, and the Yuheng Villas project was highly sought after. Rumor had it they’d stick with one team long-term—making it extremely valuable.
Originally, that opportunity had been handed to Team Two.
Now…
Yu Sibai spun his badge thoughtfully.
He usually kept a low profile—but this project…
Footsteps approached again—Qian Chong returned, glaring.
“Internal competition looks bad, Team Leader Yu.”
Yu Sibai caught his badge and smiled faintly—a cold, mocking smile.
“Sorry. Company decision. Nothing I can do.”
He turned to Yang Mengyue.
“Tell President Ji—I’ll go.”
…
Acting cool for a moment, suffering later.
At 5:29 p.m., Yu Sibai shut down his computer and stood up stiffly.
The entire office turned toward him like sunflowers.
“Leader, good luck.”
“We’ve got 100 workplace phrases if you need!”
“Our future depends on you!”
“Bring back a big project!”
“Just… don’t point at the boss and yell again…”
Yu Sibai lowered his gaze calmly. “Don’t worry.”
Under his sleeve, his fist tightened.
Even if his alcohol tolerance sucked, he’d drink his way to that project today.
Hopefully he survives.
Gao Xiangri escorted him to the elevator like a worried parent, pressing a box of antibiotics into his hand.
“If you can’t avoid drinking—use this!”
Yu Sibai’s eyes lit up.
“I’ll use it if necessary.”
Then he realized the “light” wasn’t imaginary.
The elevator doors opened.
And revealed a familiar smiling face—the one he’d just called “worse than a police dog.”
His mind went blank.
…Heaven just exploded.
Inside the elevator, Ji Wenze smiled faintly. “What a coincidence. Coming in?”
Meaning: you’re getting in either way.
Yu Sibai stepped in, dragging Gao Xiangri with him.
Awkward.
The elevator fell silent.
Ji Wenze’s gaze shifted—lingering on Gao Xiangri.
Outgoing, cheerful… a bit dumb-looking.
Design department, good education, strong performance…
Alcohol tolerance?
He glanced at the medicine box. “You can’t drink?”
“I can!” Gao replied. “Just high uric acid—my wife won’t let me.”
“So you use antibiotics to block drinks?” Ji Wenze smirked.
“No, that’s for when I drink too much—my wife told me to take them and not come home.”
Ji Wenze raised a brow.
Guess not him.
Then casually: “How much can he drink?”
Gao nudged Yu Sibai.
Yu Sibai murmured, “…about a bottle cap.”
…?
That oddly specific phrasing made Ji Wenze pause.
He slowly looked at Yu Sibai—his cold face, dull eyes, downturned lips…
Respit2… Yu Sibai?
After a moment, he narrowed his eyes, smiling faintly.
“Seriously?”