The pleasant weekend came to an end, and it was Monday again.
At eight in the morning, the alarm clock rang.
Cheng Mingjiao pulled off the silk sleep mask from his face, turned over and lingered in bed for a while longer before getting up from his custom-made luxury bed.
He sat in a daze, washed up, did his skincare routine, and then slowly made his way downstairs.
"Good morning." Zhang Xiyue, wearing an apron, waved at him brightly from the first floor.
Cheng Mingjiao, just awake, showed no expression: "What are you being so obsequious about?"
Zhang Xiyue's smile vanished in an instant: "President Cheng, Assistant Zhou was injured and took leave. Starting today, I'll be temporarily taking over his position, responsible for taking care of your work and daily life."
Cheng Mingjiao, who had known about this since early Saturday morning, said: "Oh."
His lack of explicit objection made Zhang Xiyue breathe a genuine sigh of relief.
Let's rewind to Friday night. After Zhou Ce had drafted his leave request text message, the others fell into a heavy atmosphere.
Zhou Ce offered perfunctory comfort: "It's fine, three months at most. I'll be back after three months."
"Three months… my corpse will have turned to bones by then." Li Dong said blankly.
Sun Nian: "So what do we do? Quit?"
Fangfang wore a mask of agony: "I can't do it!"
While everyone looked as mournful as if they'd lost a relative, Zhang Xiyue hesitantly raised her hand: "Um… what about me?"
At her words, everyone turned to look at her, including Zhou Ce, who was still basking in his own happiness.
Zhang Xiyue smiled and asked again: "Can I do it?"
"Did you borrow money from loan sharks?" Fangfang asked a completely irrelevant question.
Zhang Xiyue looked bewildered: "No, I didn't."
Li Dong: "Funds got stuck? Stocks lost money? Family favoring boys over girls, forcing you to earn lots of money to build houses and find wives for your useless brothers?"
Zhang Xiyue: "…No."
Sun Nian: "Then is it because—"
"None of that," Zhang Xiyue interrupted helplessly. "I just want to challenge myself with this position."
She had been at Yuhuang for a week now, and her mission had made no progress. If she could become Cheng Mingjiao's executive assistant, she might find a breakthrough.
"I really want to give it a try." She said sincerely.
And so she got the chance to try.
Remembering the intensive training everyone had given her over the past two days, Zhang Xiyue exchanged pleasantries, then turned and walked through the luxurious living room to pull out the chair at the dining table.
Cheng Mingjiao usually lived alone. His personal chef only came on weekends. On weekdays, breakfast was made by his assistant, and lunch and dinner were eaten out.
"President Cheng, please have breakfast." She greeted with a gentle smile.
Looking at Zhang Xiyue standing by the dining table, Cheng Mingjiao's beautifully shaped lips pressed together slightly.
He didn't like change, nor did he like the process of re-adapting after change.
Earlier, when he'd heard Zhou Ce was taking leave, he hadn't felt much. But now, looking at Zhang Xiyue who had replaced Zhou Ce, he instinctively felt distrust.
He stood on the stairs, refusing to move.
Zhang Xiyue: "I made fish maw and chicken soup."
Last night, Zhou Ce had mentioned in the group chat that Cheng Mingjiao loved this soup, but the process was complicated, so it could be made for him occasionally. Other times, just toast a couple slices of bread, give him some milk and eggs, and take a scolding or two.
Since it was her first day, Zhang Xiyue wanted to leave a good impression, so she'd specially made this soup.
Sure enough, Cheng Mingjiao's expression softened slightly, but he still stood there: "This soup needs to be simmered for at least three hours before it's barely drinkable."
Zhang Xiyue didn't say how long she'd simmered it, only modestly suggesting that the flavor should be quite good.
Cheng Mingjiao glanced at her, then glanced again, and finally reluctantly moved to the dining table.
Zhang Xiyue placed the soup bowl on the table, then brought over toasted mantou slices and a small plate of ham, making up two dishes and one soup.
The chicken soup was clear and glossy, with a rich aroma, but Cheng Mingjiao still frowned.
However, after nine hours of sleep, his stomach truly needed food to fill it. He stared at the soup with a tense face for a long while, and eventually picked up the spoon.
Zhang Xiyue watched his expression relax immediately after he took a difficult first sip, and the corner of her lips curved up slightly: "President Cheng, how does it taste?"
Cheng Mingjiao glanced at her: "Passable."
The emperor's "passable" was equivalent to a normal person's "so delicious that the chef is my father's murderer, but I'd tearfully sever ties with my father just for this soup."
One could say it was an extremely high compliment.
Zhang Xiyue's lips curved up another pixel, thinking to herself that indeed, the emperor had never eaten pre-made food.
Yes, this soup was pre-made.
She wanted to leave a good impression on the male supporting character, but that didn't mean she would wake up three hours early to simmer soup… She was just an employee, not Wang Baochuan, and didn't have that much time to put on a melodramatic show.
When reheating the chicken soup, she'd picked out all the cheap ingredients, replaced them with the expensive ones from Cheng Mingjiao's refrigerator, and re-adjusted the seasoning. Unless someone was a professional chef, they would never detect anything off.
Cheng Mingjiao, who had won the national youth boxing championship at fifteen, was clearly not a professional chef.
So he lowered his eyes, drinking the soup while thinking that maybe occasionally changing assistants and letting life have a little variation wasn't so bad after all.
The dining room fell quiet, with only the occasional soft clink of the spoon against the soup bowl breaking the silence.
Cheng Mingjiao wore loose, light-colored silk pajamas, his hair falling messily across his forehead, eyes lowered, radiating a languid air Zhang Xiyue had never seen on him before.
Yet even in this state of complete relaxation, his back remained perfectly straight, and he made no sound while eating. His impeccable table manners were practically etched into every gesture.
Truly a man who could only exist in a novel.
Zhang Xiyue was lost in thought when her phone buzzed a few times in her pocket.
Seeing that Cheng Mingjiao wasn't paying attention, she quickly pulled it out.
It was a message from Sister En in finance.
[Xiyue, today is the 1st—payday.]
[You came for your interview on May 20th. Per company policy, employees who are successfully hired are paid starting from their interview date. The 20th–29th will be settled at the Level 1 Executive Assistant rate, and the 30th and 31st at the Chief Assistant rate. Please confirm your pay stub and reply if everything looks correct.]
[Regular assistant pay: 9977.5]
[Chief assistant pay: 9677.4]
[Total: 19654.9]
Zhang Xiyue had only come to Yuhuang to get close to the yandere male supporting character; she'd never paid any attention to the benefits. Seeing the pay stub now, she couldn't help but let out a gasp.
Cheng Mingjiao turned his head at the sound, frowning at her.
Zhang Xiyue: "President Cheng, I'm looking at my pay stub."
A person with boundaries would know when to stop, but Cheng Mingjiao, who had no concept of boundaries, simply extended his hand toward her.
Zhang Xiyue had no choice but to show him her phone.
Cheng Mingjiao stared at the screen for a few seconds, then said, "There's an error."
Zhang Xiyue thought so too. Setting aside the exact amount, the 30th and 31st were the weekend. She'd only officially taken over Zhou Ce's work today, so logically, she shouldn't have that second line of pay at all.
"Should I contact finance now?" Zhang Xiyue sought his opinion.
Cheng Mingjiao simply took the phone from her and pressed the voice message button: "She did the handover with Zhou Ce on Friday evening. You only calculated pay for Saturday and Sunday—you didn't include Friday night's overtime. Calculate the overtime at Zhou Ce's rate."
Sister En replied instantly: Got it.
Then her pay went up by another five hundred.
Zhang Xiyue: "…"
Now she knew why her colleagues put up with so much pressure without quitting.
She stared at her phone, her mind starting to wander again.
To Cheng Mingjiao, it looked like she was struck speechless by her pay.
He rarely felt like chatting, but now he graciously made small talk with his employee: "When I hire people, I prefer hiring poor ones like you. Give you a bit more pay and you're grateful to the company. Not like those useless rich second-gens just coasting through life—no gratitude, no work ethic."
The moment Zhang Xiyue snapped back to reality, she heard his outrageous remark. Her usually well-managed expression twisted slightly, and she finally understood why no one else wanted the Chief Assistant position despite it paying so much more than the regular assistant role.
Bowing ninety degrees for five pecks of rice is easy, but a standing forward bend is far too difficult.
And… grateful? Zhang Xiyue kept her smile: "Yes indeed. Poor people like us just love bosses like you."
Cheng Mingjiao nodded in satisfaction and picked up a piece of grilled mantou from his plate.
Standing nearby, Zhang Xiyue glanced at her pay stub again and suddenly wondered if Cheng Mingjiao had gone bankrupt from paying his employees too much, which was why he'd transformed from a CEO into a yandere.
But the thought was dismissed as soon as it appeared, because the first law of the universe states: the more generous a boss is to his employees, the more successful he becomes; the stingier the boss, the more likely he is to go bankrupt, meet disaster, and end up miserably.
…Well, maybe he became a yandere because he discovered his employees weren't actually grateful to him.
While she was lost in her wild thoughts, Cheng Mingjiao had finished eating and set down his chopsticks with elegant grace.
The silver utensils clinked softly, and Zhang Xiyue followed the sound. The soup was finished, and so were the ham and mantou slices.
It was her first time making him breakfast, and she hadn't known how much to prepare, so she'd made enough for two people to be safe.
…What an incredibly voracious yandere.
Zhang Xiyue put on a smile: "President Cheng, shall we head to the company now?"
"No," Cheng Mingjiao turned and headed upstairs. "Resting for two hours, then working out."
Zhang Xiyue: "…"
He'd eaten and drunk his fill, and now he was saying he wasn't going to work?
With such a lack of dedication to his job, it served him right that in just three short months, he'd moved from a three-story 1,700-square-meter standalone villa to a mere 400-square-meter flat!
Zhang Xiyue felt like a long-suffering mother accompanying her senior-year child through a year of grueling study, only to have her son go to an internet café on the day of the college entrance exam. Indignation surged within her.
Two hours and twenty minutes later, the indignation vanished without a trace.
Cheng Mingjiao set down his dumbbells, lips slightly parted, breathing unsteadily as he looked at her: "Come here. Wipe me down."
Twenty minutes of high-intensity training per set had soaked his freshly changed tank top with sweat, the damp fabric faintly revealing the contours of his chest muscles. His arms, freed from the constraint of fabric, bulged with alluring lines, his entire body radiating a vigorous sense of power.
…What an incredibly sturdy yandere.
If she weren't absolutely certain the supporting character was named "Cheng Mingjiao," she would have suspected for the ten-thousandth time that she'd targeted the wrong person to pursue.
Zhang Xiyue stepped forward with a towel and wiped the sweat from his jaw.
Cheng Mingjiao visibly flinched, but Zhang Xiyue paid it no mind, continuing to wipe downward along the lines of his muscles.
The emperor was picky, harsh, and hard to please, but his muscles were friendly and kind—she could feel their warmth even through the towel.
Mm, piping hot.
When Zhang Xiyue reached the Mercedes-Benz logo on Cheng Mingjiao's chest, she thought to herself that this man had no sense of boundaries, letting his female assistant wipe his sweat for him, even as she rubbed the logo a few extra times.
When she finished, she looked up and met Cheng Mingjiao's silent gaze.
Sensing something, she turned her head to look at the dumbbell beside them.
The finger marks on the dumbbell were clear, mocking her blatantly.