Chapter 3: Between the Wolf and the Tiger

 

Xia Chan took a deep breath, straightened her back, and walked forward with quiet composure.
“Mr. He Qihua, I’m Xia Chan, the housekeeping supervisor. How may I help you?”

A man appeared from behind He Qihua — his assistant, judging by his sharp tone and demeanor. He gave her a quick, assessing glance.
“Are you responsible for the guest in this room?”

“Every guest is the responsibility of our entire team,” she answered evenly.

“Open the door.”

Xia Chan’s tone remained calm. “Opening a guest’s room without permission violates privacy and our hotel’s regulations. I’m not authorized to do that, sir. Please forgive me.”

“Then find someone who is.”

“I’m sorry,” Xia Chan replied, her posture unshaken, “but even the chairman of Kaiser cannot intrude on a guest’s private space. You can contact Mr. He himself to open the door for you.”

The assistant’s brows furrowed, ready to argue — but He Qihua raised a hand, silencing him. “Call your manager, Liu Hongyi.”

“Manager Liu is currently out on business. Would you like me to contact the deputy manager for you instead?”

He Qihua’s expression shifted slightly, as though surprised she hadn’t flinched before his authority. His eyes lingered on her name tag.
Xia Chan kept her gaze steady, her face composed like still water.

“Call Liu Hongyi,” He Qihua ordered curtly.

Ten minutes later, Liu Hongyi came hurrying down the corridor, slightly out of breath. He bowed repeatedly, his tone full of apology.
“My staff was ignorant, Mr. He. Please forgive us.”

Then he spotted Xia Chan, still standing upright beside the door, and his face darkened instantly. “What’s that attitude? Why haven’t you apologized to Mr. He?”

Xia Chan’s chest tightened with anger, but she knew defiance now would only cost her her job. She lowered her head and bent at a full ninety degrees.
“I’m sorry, Mr. He.”

He Qihua didn’t spare her a glance. “Open the door.”

Liu Hongyi forced a smile. “Mr. He, your nephew wasn’t feeling well yesterday and is still resting. I understand your concern, but perhaps it’s best to let him recover and visit again tomorrow?”

A tense silence hung in the air. Then, with a cold snort, He Qihua turned and walked away. His assistant followed close behind.

As soon as they disappeared, Liu Hongyi’s smile vanished. He shot Xia Chan a frosty look.
“Supervisor Xia, come to my office.”

---

In the office, Liu Hongyi slammed the door behind her. He dragged a swivel chair out from behind his desk and dropped heavily into it, scowling.
“Don’t you want this job anymore?”

Xia Chan met his glare with a steady voice. “I was just following the rules.”

“Following the rules!” He scoffed. “Don’t mistake a feather for a token of power. With that attitude, you can pack your things and leave anytime.”

Xia Chan pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

Liu Hongyi reached for his teacup, only to find yesterday’s dried tea leaves still inside. He slammed the lid down, the sharp sound echoing in the tense air.
“You’ve really disappointed me, Xia Chan.”

She lowered her eyes silently.

“You know how things stand,” he continued, leaning forward. “After Chen Rong left early this year, the supervisor’s position has been vacant. Many people are eyeing it. I thought you were steady and capable — I even planned to recommend you for the promotion. But now…” He paused, letting his words cut deep. “…I’ll have to reconsider.”

Xia Chan forced a small nod. “I’ve failed your expectations, Manager Liu.”

His expression softened a little. He waved his hand dismissively. “Go. Don’t make any more mistakes — I won’t be able to protect you next time.”

Suppressing the heat of anger and humiliation rising in her chest, Xia Chan bowed her head slightly, turned, and left.
The moment she stepped into the elevator, her composure cracked. She leaned against the wall and exhaled a quiet sigh.

Her phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen — He Huaisheng.

“Miss Xia, please come to my room.”

Her heart tightened. Still, she replied with professionalism and went to room 1208.
Standing at the door, she texted:

“Mr. He, please open the door.”

Moments later, the door opened. He Huaisheng stood there, gesturing for her to come in.

Xia Chan hesitated. Entering a guest’s room alone was risky — if anyone saw, rumors could spread easily.
But He Huaisheng simply waited, silent and patient.

After a moment’s thought, Xia Chan stepped inside.

He Huaisheng turned and walked toward the bar counter. Xia Chan stood beside the sofa, her posture cautious, her eyes following his back.

He poured himself a glass of red wine and returned, offering it to her.

“We can’t drink during working hours…” Xia Chan began softly, then stopped, remembering he couldn’t hear her. She lowered her gaze.

He Huaisheng merely glanced at her and placed the glass on the table. As he leaned closer, a low, raspy voice escaped his lips—
“Blind Miss…”

Xia Chan froze. For a second, she thought she was hearing things.

But then He Huaisheng straightened, his gaze resting on her face. His lips moved again.
“…Thank you.”

It wasn’t an illusion. His voice was rough and uneven, as though unused for a long time — yet unmistakably real.

“You… can speak?” Xia Chan asked in disbelief.

Then, remembering his hearing, she reached for her phone — but he spoke again.
“A little.”

Her fingers trembled. Wasn’t he deaf? For a fleeting moment, she wondered if this man could somehow read her thoughts.

He Huaisheng took out his phone and typed a few words.

Moments later, her phone buzzed with a message:

“You can speak slowly. I can read lips.”

She hesitated, then typed back:

“Were you deaf later in life?”

As soon as she sent it, she regretted the question — it felt too personal, even cruel.
But He Huaisheng didn’t seem to mind. He nodded slightly.

Then another message arrived:

“Thank you again.”

Xia Chan replied politely:

“You’re welcome, Mr. He. You’ve helped me too.”

But in her heart, she thought — if it hadn’t been for that night, I would never have stepped into this mess. I didn’t gain anything… and I nearly lost my job.

Feeling the weight of unspoken thoughts, Xia Chan offered a quick goodbye. “I’ve been away from my post for too long. I should get back to work.”

He Huaisheng nodded once.

Xia Chan closed the door quietly and walked out. When she returned to the lounge, Liu Baona immediately approached her, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

“Did Manager Liu scold you?” she asked.

“Don’t gloat over my misfortune,” Xia Chan said flatly.

Liu Baona chuckled. “I didn’t expect that after only half a year here, I’d witness such a spectacular scene.”

Xia Chan gave her a sideways glance. “Spectacular? What exactly did you see?”

“The whole housekeeping department is buzzing about it,” Liu Baona said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “They say Mr. He came to Chongcheng under the pretense of inspecting the market and expanding business. But in reality, he’s planning to take back control of Xinghui’s headquarters here.”

“Isn’t He Huaisheng the CEO of Xinghui Technology’s southern branch?” Xia Chan asked. “Why does he look so… cornered? Like someone caught running away from home.”

Liu Baona nodded eagerly. “Exactly. It’s said that Mr. He’s had a miserable time in the south—always being undermined. Xinghui was originally his grandfather’s company, later run by his father. But now it’s divided among distant relatives—like his uncle, He Qihua, who bullies him because his parents died young, he’s deaf, and he still has a younger sister to look after. He just got off the plane and was humiliated before he could even rest.”

Xia Chan thought of what had happened earlier and couldn’t help sighing.

Was the man’s situation truly that dire, that he had to seek help from a stranger—a hotel staff member he’d never met?

Liu Baona sighed too. “He’s like a prince in distress.”

“Distressed?” Xia Chan murmured. “Not necessarily.”

But she didn’t have the energy to pity anyone else. Kaiser Hotel itself was in turmoil. With the new executive arriving early, a massive personnel reshuffle was inevitable. Chen Rong had resigned; the head of housekeeping had been promoted to assistant manager, leaving the department leader’s position open. If nothing went wrong, the next head would likely be chosen from the current foremen.

Xia Chan didn’t dare to dream high. She just wanted to keep her footing in the storm.

Yet reality quickly shattered even that modest wish. The new CEO’s first order was simple and brutal—staff reduction.

Overnight, the entire hotel grew tense. Everyone worked nervously, whispering in corners, afraid of being the next name on the list.

Xia Chan’s anxiety deepened. She had once harbored a faint hope for promotion, but now, even her current position was uncertain. If she didn’t act, she might soon be replaced.

Over the weekend, she invited Chen Rong out for dinner, hoping the former supervisor could offer some guidance.

Usually thrifty, Xia Chan chose an elegant private restaurant in the west of Chongcheng. The place had a quiet charm—arched bridges, flowing water, and private booths separated by bamboo curtains.

Though they weren’t close, Xia Chan and Chen Rong shared a certain like-mindedness. Their personalities were calm, straightforward, and disciplined. So when the dishes arrived, Xia Chan skipped the small talk.

Before she could even finish explaining, Chen Rong understood. “You’re caught between a wolf in front and a tiger behind.”

Xia Chan smiled helplessly.

Chen Rong leaned back, thinking. “You have two choices.”

“Please, Sister Rong,” Xia Chan said earnestly. “I need your advice.”

“The first one’s obvious—Liu Hongyi…” Chen Rong frowned, as if even mentioning his name left a bitter taste. Then she smiled slightly. “The second… come with me.”

Xia Chan’s stomach turned at the first option. The second, though tempting, still seemed impossible.

She forced a smile. “Sister Rong, with your connections, job-hopping is easy. But I’m not you. I can’t go up, and I don’t want to fall down.”

After a pause, she asked, “What if I transfer departments? If I move to the front office, maybe I could work up to lobby manager in two years.”

Chen Rong sighed. “I thought of that for you. But any department transfer needs Liu Hongyi’s signature. You can’t even reach HR without his approval.”

Xia Chan’s heart sank.

Chen Rong looked at her quietly. “Actually… there’s a third option.”

Xia Chan already knew what she meant and shook her head immediately.

The conversation fell into silence. Chen Rong picked up her chopsticks again, though neither of them had much appetite left.

They changed the topic after a while, chatting idly.

“I heard about what happened with He Qihua that day,” Chen Rong said.

Xia Chan nodded slightly.

Chen Rong was rarely one for gossip. “What do you think of He Huaisheng?”

“Everyone calls him a bully,” Xia Chan said thoughtfully. “But I don’t think so.”

“Oh?” Chen Rong smiled faintly. “Then what do you think?”

“A thirty-year-old man,” Xia Chan said slowly, “whose parents died young, who became deaf later in life, who still has to protect a younger sister… he’s been beaten down in the south for years. And now he dares to return to Chongcheng—alone—to face a den of wolves and fight for his family’s inheritance. He’s so poor he needed a hotel maid to act as his shield. He’s not a bully, Sister Rong. He’s just… stupid.”

Chen Rong laughed lightly. “Don’t let He Huaisheng hear you say that.”

“…Then He Huaisheng is either stupid,” Xia Chan said, lifting her glass with a faint smile, “or he’s pretending to be mad.”

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