Xia Chan remained skeptical. "How did you know?"
Liu Baona's smile carried the pride of someone privy to valuable secrets. "I'm very well-informed!"
The moment those words left her mouth, Xia Chan shot to her feet, preparing to leave.
Liu Baona quickly grabbed her sleeve. "Sister Xia Chan, listen to me. This news is absolutely true. I snuck into the executive dining room today and happened to overhear Manager Liu discussing the new supervisor with Deputy Manager Chen."
Xia Chan's expression grew grave. After a moment's hesitation, she asked, "Have you told anyone else?"
Liu Baona shook her head emphatically. "I wouldn't dare tell a soul."
"Baona, don't breathe a word of this to anyone. There are too many wagging tongues right now—don't get yourself caught up in it."
Liu Baona nodded rapidly, then ventured, "Sister Xia Chan, do you think I'll be laid off?"
"You know sign language. That's a rare talent."
Liu Baona seemed marginally reassured by this assessment. "Why don't you learn it too? I'll teach you. You can master daily conversations in less than a month."
A voice crackled through the intercom. Xia Chan pressed her earpiece and replied with a practiced smile, "You should keep this skill for yourself—get back to work."
After Liu Baona departed, Xia Chan retrieved her phone and sent a text to Chen Rong.
That afternoon after work, Xia Chan went directly to the parking lot and slipped into Chen Rong's car.
Chen Rong started the engine. "Let's have dinner next time. I have something urgent today, so I'll just drop you at the subway station."
Xia Chan seized the opportunity. "Sister Rong, has the candidate for supervisor been decided?"
Chen Rong looked at her with surprise. "How do you know about that?"
Xia Chan didn't answer the question. "Is it really Fu Ruyu?"
Chen Rong nodded, her expression tightening. "That's Liu Hongyi's plan. He's the manager and he has the final say. Although I strongly recommended you..."
"I never expected to become supervisor. I'm satisfied with my current position."
Chen Rong fell silent for a moment. "Xia Chan, I suggest you prepare for the worst. Fu Ruyu has been promoted to supervisor, and Liu Hongyi has decided to replace her position. So two more people will have to be laid off regardless."
Xia Chan's surprise was evident. "Why Chi Yue?"
Chen Rong glanced at her meaningfully. "Why don't you ask why Fu Ruyu?"
"I'm not surprised that Ruyu is the supervisor..." However, before she could finish the sentence, realization dawned. Xia Chan fell silent for a moment before quickly denying the implication. "Impossible."
"How can it be impossible? If you refuse to sit in that seat, naturally someone else will claim it."
"Ruyu has a boyfriend."
Chen Rong's silence spoke volumes.
Xia Chan knew this excuse was untenable—a desperate attempt to deflect from Fu Ruyu's guilt, to preserve some shred of her friend's innocence.
Chen Rong sighed heavily. "You should make the same plans I did. With Liu Hongyi wielding such unchecked power, even if you escape this time, you might not be so fortunate next time. He has the backing of the higher-ups, so he can't be easily removed. Because he's always been privately accused of being a hypocrite, he's deliberately singled out these two people to undermine me... The housekeeping department is rotten to the core."
The subway station loomed ahead. Xia Chan replied, her heart heavy as stone, "I'll think about it."
That morning, she'd handed over her shift to Fu Ruyu, who had been as patient and meticulous as always.
But looking at her now, Xia Chan felt as if she'd swallowed a fly—that nauseating mixture of disgust and pity.
It wasn't that she looked down on Fu Ruyu. Rather, she felt profoundly sorry for her. Anyone else would have been acceptable, but why Liu Hongyi of all people...
Affairs at the hotel were already overwhelming, and He Huaisheng—whom she hadn't seen in some time—suddenly reappeared to complicate matters further.
That noon, Xia Chan received a summons to the lobby via telephone.
Standing prominently in the lobby was the middle-aged man who perpetually followed He Huaisheng, his expression radiating displeasure as he clutched an extravagant bouquet of fresh, long-stemmed roses.
Upon seeing Xia Chan, he addressed her coldly, "Miss Xia," and unceremoniously thrust the flowers toward her. "These are from President He."
Xia Chan stood frozen. "Which President He?"
The middle-aged man's expression darkened considerably. "President He. He Huaisheng."
The instant those words left his lips, Xia Chan felt dozens of eyes from the front desk converge upon her like searchlights.
Despite her multitude of questions, Xia Chan swallowed them for now.
Clutching the flowers, she took the employee elevator back to the second-floor lounge.
After a brief wait, the elevator doors parted to reveal Cheng Zijin, the newly appointed CEO who had joined the company a year prior. Xia Chan had only encountered Cheng Zijin up close once, at a cocktail reception. At merely thirty-five, he was a man of decisive action, known for his iron-fisted management style—as evidenced by the immediate layoffs he'd authorized upon assuming his position.
Xia Chan halted respectfully. "Hello, Mr. Cheng."
Cheng Zijin emerged from the elevator and glanced at her. "Xia Chan."
Xia Chan responded quickly, "Yes."
Cheng Zijin's lips curved into a half-smile. "I saw you at the party. You made quite an impression."
Xia Chan was preparing to respond when Cheng Zijin's gaze shifted to the lavish bouquet of roses in her arms. "These flowers were flown in from the Netherlands."
Xia Chan's breath caught.
"They're extraordinarily expensive. The person who sent them to you was very generous indeed."
Xia Chan hastily inquired, "Does Mr. Cheng know him?"
Cheng Zijin smiled enigmatically but provided no answer, striding past Xia Chan without further comment.
Undoubtedly, this scene—being presented with flowers only to be intercepted by the general manager at the elevator—swiftly became the hotel's hottest gossip.
Xia Chan felt it was an utterly unprovoked disaster, but He Huaisheng showed no signs of stopping. He sent flowers for two consecutive days. The accompanying cards bore only simple messages: "Best wishes" and the single word "Congratulations."
Xia Chan felt she might never recover from this mortification. Unable to endure it any longer, she sent He Huaisheng a WeChat message.
That afternoon, a sleek Lamborghini stopped before the hotel entrance.
Xia Chan spotted He Huaisheng in the back seat immediately and began plotting a detour. Before she could execute her escape, the man emerged from the vehicle and strode purposefully toward her.
Xia Chan had no choice but to stop. "Mr. He."
He Huaisheng made a "please" gesture, indicating his car.
Xia Chan straightened her spine. "Mr. He, do you wish to treat me to dinner?"
He Huaisheng nodded.
"Thank you for your kindness, but I don't have time today."
He Huaisheng withdrew his mobile phone from his pocket and typed: Miss Xia, do you have other plans?
Of course not. It was a particularly busy period, and she found herself in a state of existential emptiness—she had neither the mood nor the companion for social engagements.
Xia Chan nodded anyway.
He Huaisheng typed again: When is Miss Xia free?
Xia Chan studied him for a moment, then took a deliberate step backward. She extracted a cigarette from her bag, lit it with practiced ease, and held it between her slender white fingers.
She tilted her head slightly and asked silently through lip-reading, "Are you pursuing me?"
He Huaisheng paused for several seconds before replying via text: Why not?
Xia Chan smiled, speaking slowly and clearly so he could read her lips. "I don't believe it."
He Huaisheng: It doesn't matter whether you believe it or not.
Xia Chan exhaled a languid stream of smoke. "You should have heard that Kaiser is undergoing a major internal restructuring. The layoff list will be announced tomorrow. If I'm unfortunately on it, today will be the last time we meet." She spoke deliberately, ensuring He Huaisheng could follow her words.
He Huaisheng watched her finish, then lowered his head to type: I'm afraid part of that is thanks to me.
Xia Chan thought to herself: This person possesses some self-awareness, at least.
Xia Chan shook her head. "Mr. He, let me tell you the truth. I know what young men like you are after. Three or four years ago, I was confused and deceived myself for a while. Joining in such arrangements isn't entirely terrible—I could acquire houses and money, relocate to another city, and never worry about food or clothing again. However..."
How long can one rely on beauty to please others?
There was a living example at home—Zhou Lan. Xia Chan would certainly not repeat that same mistake.
He Huaisheng remained silent, his expression unreadable.
At that moment, Xia Chan's mobile phone rang. Liu Hongyi was calling.
Xia Chan turned slightly and answered: "Manager Liu."
"Are you off work yet? Come to my office."
Xia Chan frowned slightly. "Manager Liu, it's past working hours."
"Is rushing home more important than securing a good future for yourself?"
Xia Chan had no choice but to agree.
She extinguished her cigarette and looked up at He Huaisheng. "Mr. He, I have something to attend to, so I'll leave first." She paused. "The flowers are beautiful. Thank you."
At least until now, this was the first time anyone had given her such expensive roses.
He Huaisheng stood motionless, nodding slightly in acknowledgment.
Xia Chan turned and returned to the hotel, heading directly for Liu Hongyi's office.
Liu Hongyi leaned against the large desk, tilted his head, and observed Xia Chan with a smile. "Make me a cup of tea. The tea leaves are in the third jar on the left shelf."
Xia Chan restrained her emotions, took the teacup before Liu Hongyi, added tea leaves, rinsed them, placed fresh leaves inside, poured half a cup of boiling water over them, and set it before Liu Hongyi.
Liu Hongyi finally lowered his legs, took a sip from his cup, and spoke slowly. "I have good news."
Xia Chan forced herself to maintain composure. "Manager Liu, please speak."
"We've shown the list to the higher-ups, and there's still controversy about certain candidates. We've decided to discuss it further and announce the results next week."
Xia Chan thought bitterly: What good news is this? A swift pain is preferable to prolonged suffering. Another week of this torment...
"As for the focus of this controversy..." Liu Hongyi smiled, set down his cup, and rose from his chair. "It can be significant or insignificant, depending..."
He walked over to Xia Chan, pressed his palm against the edge of the table near her, coughed lightly, adjusted his tie with deliberate slowness, and walked away.
The tea continued wisping steam upward. Xia Chan stared blankly, her mind emptying of coherent thought.
Finally, her gaze dropped to the table's edge.
A room card.
From childhood to adulthood, Xia Chan had encountered many advantages thanks to her appearance.
The world was often more tolerant of those blessed with beauty, but when genuine interests were at stake, this face became an obstruction—a commodity to be bartered.
A man's crotch was a barrier she refused to crawl beneath, and her refusal earned only coldness.
Xia Chan clutched the room card and fled the office in a state of panic. It was not yet four in the afternoon, and the sun hung dim and indifferent overhead.
Standing there, Xia Chan suddenly found herself uncertain of where to go.
The situation was crystalline in its clarity: Fu Ruyu and Chi Yue were already sacrificed. Whether she would stay or leave depended entirely on whether she would use that room card tonight.
Xia Chan didn't consider herself a person with particularly upright morals. Living with Zhou Lan, she had witnessed too many sordid dealings and had grown accustomed to them. But that didn't mean she was prepared to personally immerse herself in this filth...
"...Blind shovel..."
A hoarse voice suddenly emerged from nearby.
Xia Chan turned hastily.
It was He Huaisheng. He hadn't left after all.
He stood on the steps beneath the portico, a cigarette held between his fingers, faint smoke rising and shrouding his features in mist.
He seemed even more distant than usual—remote and untouchable.
Xia Chan opened her mouth, but no sound emerged, as if she had become the one afflicted with a speech impediment.
After a prolonged moment, Xia Chan's phone vibrated.
He Huaisheng: What Liu Hongyi can give you, I can give you too.
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