◎Those Who Understand Will Understand (Part 2)◎
Le Qing found the scene before her somewhat bizarre—a tall, well-dressed man, looking as though he was either heading to work or a formal event, stood in the hallway only to ask her if she had a band-aid.
"Are you… going out to buy one?" she asked hesitantly.
"Something like that," Jiang Suizhi replied, his expression devoid of any pain or urgency despite his injury. Instead, his eyes were lowered, almost listless. "It suddenly occurred to me that you might have some."
"I do."
The small first-aid kit still had supplies left, and Le Qing no longer treated him as an outsider. "The kit is in the bottom left drawer of the storage cabinet in the dining room. Go ahead and take what you need. I’ll go open the door for the maintenance worker."
She still remembered the last time his hand was injured—how he had delicately taken the band-aid from her with a curled finger.
Best not to trouble him further.
By the time Le Qing returned with the worker, she found Jiang Suizhi sitting at the dining table, staring blankly at the open first-aid kit in front of him.
His injured hand lay carelessly on the table, the wound far more severe than last time—almost alarming. The two children sat beside him, blowing on his palm in an attempt to soothe the pain, their faces etched with helpless worry.
Hadn’t he been fine after dinner?
"I’ll take care of this," Sister Wang offered, stepping forward. "Perhaps you should tend to President Jiang’s hand first?"
She had initially wanted to help, given how serious the injury looked, but a single glance from him had deterred her.
As for the children, they didn’t dare touch him either, their eyes brimming with tears at the sight of blood—knowing it must hurt terribly.
Since none of the items were particularly important and had already been sorted, Le Qing didn’t refuse. "Just leave my clothes separate. I’ll organize them later. The kids’ things can be put away properly."
"Of course."
Once everything was arranged, Le Qing walked over and sat beside Jiang Suizhi. "Is it hard to handle? Should we go to the hospital?"
"Not very convenient," Jiang Suizhi murmured, his fingers twitching slightly. His dark, unfocused eyes remained downcast. "Would you mind?"
"Mind what?"
Le Qing was stunned. Had his condition improved already?
Mindful of Sister Wang’s presence nearby, she leaned in slightly and lowered her voice. "Won’t it trigger you? If I touch you, then—"
When a person was hypersensitive, even the slightest movement could unsettle them. Though there was no wind, Jiang Suizhi felt as though something intangible stirred around him.
"It’s fine," he said with a short, quiet laugh. "The doctor said I’m getting better."
So he wasn’t as sensitive anymore?
Relieved, Le Qing nodded. "Then I’ll be gentle. Try to bear with it."
She carefully cleaned the blood from his hand with a cotton swab and disinfectant, ensuring she never actually made contact.
As she reached for a second swab, her gaze paused—his fingers trembled faintly, almost spasming.
"Does it hurt? Or are you uncomfortable?" she asked worriedly.
If it was this bad, maybe they really should see a doctor.
"You—" Jiang Suizhi finally looked up, meeting her gentle gaze. The moment their eyes locked, his hand shook even more violently.
"Sorry," he muttered, closing his fist.
Startled, Le Qing pressed her fingers against his clenched hand. "It’s not properly treated yet!"
The scorching agony and maddening itch that had burrowed into his bones suddenly eased. Jiang Suizhi’s breath hitched for two full seconds.
It was her.
How could it be her?
The moment she touched him, Le Qing immediately withdrew her hand, using the cotton swab to hover over an uninjured spot. "Wait a second—"
"Your hand."
Jiang Suizhi’s voice was rough.
Le Qing blinked. "Hmm?"
His fingertip pressed lightly against the wooden stick of the swab. "Touch me."
His deep, fathomless eyes fixed on her fingers. "Just once."
This made Le Qing realize he must be having an episode. As someone with haphephilia, physical contact was the only way to alleviate his symptoms—which was also why he was undergoing desensitization therapy.
She considered having the children touch him instead, but his hand was still bloody, and the two little ones didn’t dare move a muscle.
So, just like that morning, she lightly brushed her fingertip against his. "Is this okay?"
No.
It was only now that Jiang Suizhi understood why the doctor had warned him to exercise restraint. For the first time, he felt no nausea or revulsion—only an overwhelming craving for more.
And it terrified him.
If there was one person who could affect him like this, it meant he had willingly handed over every vulnerability he possessed.
Yet without realizing it, he had already bared himself completely before Le Qing—revealing every fracture, every fragility, placing his very survival in her hands.
Even now, the slightest movement of her finger forced him to exert immense self-control to suppress his instincts.
When he didn’t respond, Le Qing frowned slightly. "Jiang Suizhi?"
As if burned, he curled his fingers inward.
"Enough," he forced out.
"Should I keep treating it? Or do you want to do it yourself?"
Jiang Suizhi exhaled almost imperceptibly. "Continue."
Nodding, Le Qing resumed her task, this time even more cautiously. What surprised her a second time was the sight of old and new scars crisscrossing his palm—some faded, others still fresh.
The newer wounds bore distinct shapes, almost like… fingernail marks.
And given their placement, they could only have been self-inflicted.
Repeatedly.
"Was it that unbearable?" she asked softly.
The disinfectant seeped into his skin, sending shivers through his hypersensitive nerves. Jiang Suizhi felt goosebumps rising as he took a second to process her question.
In the past, without this longing, it hadn’t been unbearable—just sickening.
But now…
He lowered his gaze, concealing the turmoil in his eyes. "I suppose."
"Next time, I’ll have the kids come to you," Le Qing offered, thinking this couldn’t go on. If he needed relief, he should have it. Holding back couldn’t be good for his health.
Jiang Suizhi chuckled faintly. "We’ll see."
Then he asked, "What about your plan?"
Mention of the plan made Le Qing’s face warm. After finishing with his hand, she pulled out the paper where she’d written down possible solutions. "Do you think this is feasible?"
Jiang Suizhi took it and skimmed through.
She had practically listed every trick in the book—from food bribes to empty promises.
Though he wasn’t sure if any of it would work, the hopeful look in her eyes made him relent. "Don’t worry. If it doesn’t, I’ll handle it."
Le Qing trusted him completely. After all, he managed an entire corporate empire—surely two little troublemakers wouldn’t be a problem.
Until the next morning, when both of them stood frozen, staring at the two children clinging to the doorframe, wailing as though kidnappers were dragging them away—utterly refusing to leave.
Le Qing used to dislike children because she thought they were all the same—crying in ways that left adults helpless.
Yet, she couldn’t bear to let them keep crying. She even felt like crouching down and hugging the door to cry with them.
"Auntie packed some yummy milk tablets and chocolates in your backpacks. You can eat them when you go to school," Le Qing deployed her first tactic.
"Can’t we just not eat them?" Little Le Jia’s voice was hoarse from crying. "I’ll eat the cookies Auntie made instead, and not go to school, okay?"
Le Qing: "?"
So this was their game.
"Kindergarten has lots of fun toys—super big rocking horses, and slides like the ones in the park," she tried her second tactic: painting a rosy picture.
Sure enough, the two little ones paused their crying for a second.
But soon, they peered at her cautiously. "Auntie studies too."
If Auntie went, they’d go.
Le Qing sighed. "Kindergarten doesn’t take adults."
"Then can’t we go to a kindergarten that takes adults?"
Their eyes welled up with tears again.
Le Qing: "..."
None of the strategies she’d prepared worked, and she couldn’t bring herself to get angry at them. She was seriously considering hiding and letting Sister Wang drag them away.
But remembering how insecure the kids already were, she vetoed that last resort.
Instead, she turned her gaze to President Jiang, who claimed to have a solution.
President Jiang was already dressed impeccably. Only after catching her glance did he speak. "Auntie and I will take you to school."
"Not just take us—we’ll go together," one of the little ones corrected, sharp with words.
"Then will you go to work in Auntie’s and my place?" Jiang Suizhi asked.
"Like acting?" The kids didn’t know what their uncle’s job was, but they knew Auntie’s—taking pictures!
They could do that, and they were good at it.
"No," Jiang Suizhi smiled faintly. "It’s working at the company."
"?"
Jiang Suizhi leaned down. "Auntie and I will take you to kindergarten. If you like it, you can stay. If you don’t, I’ll take you to work. And if you decide you’d rather work, you’ll never have to go to kindergarten again."
Le Qing: "?"
Was this a solution a normal person would come up with?
But the kids thought it was brilliant. As long as they could stay with Auntie and Uncle, anything was fine.
They’d gone to work with Auntie before—of course they could go with Uncle too!
"Pinky promise," Jiang Suizhi held out his hand. "Little heroes don’t break their word."
Watching as the kids instantly stopped crying and eagerly rushed to press the elevator button, Le Qing tugged at Jiang Suizhi’s sleeve. "Are you serious?"
What if they really didn’t want to go back to kindergarten after this?
"The Chronicles of Genius Twins Taking Over as CEO in Place of Their Uncle"?
Jiang Suizhi glanced at the hand on his sleeve and raised a brow. "Does anyone in this world actually like going to work?"
"..."
Fair point.
But there was a fundamental difference between adults working and kids working.
"They’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about."
Le Qing blinked. "Me?"
"If you can’t bear it, hide in my office lounge." Jiang Suizhi adjusted his glasses, smiling slowly. "I’ll handle their schedule today."
For some reason, Le Qing had a bad feeling.
And it was the kids who were in for it.
She changed and left with Jiang Suizhi. As expected, the twins weren’t too interested in kindergarten anymore—they’d already seen it.
They were briefly excited by all the other kids, but that excitement was quickly crushed by the fear of being separated from their aunt and uncle. They absolutely refused to stay.
The kindergarten teacher was helpless. Every new term had kids like this—some could be coaxed, others just had to be taken home first.
So when Le Qing and Jiang Suizhi said they’d take the kids with them, the kindergarten agreed without hesitation.
The twins sat in the backseat, hugging their backpacks triumphantly, as if they’d won a battle—completely unaware of the horror awaiting them.
Jiang Suizhi wasn’t as low-key as before either. To accommodate the kids, he’d arranged for a spacious business van today, with enough room for four in the back, like a mini lounge.
Le Qing sat beside him and whispered, "What’s next?"
The moment she asked, his entire demeanor shifted. He lounged lazily against the seat, crossing his legs, one arm resting on the side as he gazed down at the two whispering children opposite him.
Sensing danger, the twins looked up in unison.
The seats faced each other, and the pressure was immediate. Little Le Jia had always thought his uncle looked intimidating, but after how kind he’d been, he’d forgotten about it.
Now, that familiar unease returned—worse than before.
Jiang Suizhi spoke coolly. "Before we go to work, there are a few things you need to understand."
The kids instinctively straightened their backs, hands clasped, ready to listen.
"Once we enter the company building, it’s work time. You can’t call me ‘Uncle’ or Auntie anymore."
Little Le Jia blinked. "Then what do we call you?"
"President Jiang."
Le Qing: "..."
"And Auntie?"
"Ms. Le."
Little Sister Treasure looked between her uncle and aunt, sensing the gravity, and nodded obediently.
Jiang Suizhi continued. "Since you can’t read yet, Secretary Chen will verbally assign your tasks. You must complete them before the end of the day—otherwise, no going home."
Tasks!
They loved tasks!
The twins suddenly understood—real heroes went to work!
Mimicking their favorite cartoons, they saluted solemnly. "We’ll complete the mission!"
Jiang Suizhi smirked.
Hah.
Jiang Yan’s kids—just as naive as him.
He went on. "No slacking, snacking, playing, or napping during work hours. If you break the rules, you lose a month’s worth of snacks and rides on the coin-operated cars. One mistake, and one toy from Great-Grandpa or Second Grandpa gets confiscated. Fail the task, and it’s a work failure—tomorrow, you’ll have to do today’s task plus a new one, plus lose three toys."
In less than two minutes, the twins went from confident to utterly horrified.
Their mouths hung open.
How could Uncle be so cruel?!
"Don’t worry, sis," Little Le Jia steadied himself. "I’ll help you."
Jiang Suizhi remained unmoved. He held out a hand. "Now, hand over all the toys and snacks in your backpacks to Ms. Le. You’ll get them back after work."
Le Qing bit her lip to keep from laughing, forcing a stern expression. "Please cooperate, little colleagues."
Reluctantly, the kids surrendered their beloved toys and snacks, their eyes full of longing.
Before getting out of the car, Le Qing suddenly stopped Jiang Suizhi. "Do you have an extra mask?"
"Yeah." He turned to fetch a new one from the car. "Why?"
Le Qing put it on, her eyes crinkling with barely contained laughter. "I’m afraid I’ll laugh and ruin the act."
Jiang Suizhi had never looked at her eyes so closely and alone before. People always said eyes could speak, but he had never believed it—until now, when he realized it was true.
Her eyes were far more honest than her usual expressions, like those giant crystal balls seen in shopping malls during Christmas—transparent and bright, yet the falling snowflakes within them gave off a warmth and comfort.
He smiled faintly as well. "Let's go, Ms. Le."
This would be the most explosive day in the history of Jiang Corporation. Long before work began, every department had received the same email from the president's office: no matter what they saw or what happened today, they were not to react abnormally. They were to carry on as usual and not treat anyone differently.
There was even a special note in bold, red, and underlined text—especially regarding three-year-old children.
It might as well have been a direct name-drop.
So, from the moment employees arrived in the morning, everyone was on high alert, ears and eyes wide open, waiting to see what earth-shattering event would unfold.
Then they saw President Jiang accompanied by three unfamiliar figures.
One adult and two small ones.
The adult, though wearing a mask, exuded the aura of a stunning beauty—her caramel sweater paired with a long skirt radiating both gentleness and authority.
The two little ones looked like they had jumped straight out of an animated movie, clutching milk bottles and holding hands, their tiny faces deadly serious.
And—shockingly—they bore a slight resemblance to the president!
The entire corporation was stunned. Wasn’t President Jiang unmarried, with a notorious aversion to strangers? Since when did he have children this old?
From the moment he took office, no one except senior executives reporting work had ever gotten close to him. Hearts shattered across the company.
Though not everyone could catch a glimpse of the president, the building buzzed with countless small group chats. Word spread like wildfire, and within ten minutes, everyone knew: the president had a wife and kids, and today, he’d brought them to work!
No one was more excited than the administrative secretaries closest to the president’s office.
This was the corporate headquarters, with numerous departments and endless tasks. Subsidiaries submitted reports daily, and since the president couldn’t handle everything personally, the secretaries managed minor affairs before compiling them for Secretary Chen to relay.
The secretarial department wasn’t small, but today, two temporary workstations had been added.
Everyone couldn’t help stealing glances at the two custom-made "workstations" on the far left—tiny desks and chairs, complete with miniature stationery, computers, cups, and even small partitions.
It looked like a setup for playing house.
But with strict orders from above, no one dared utter an unnecessary word.
The two little ones were brimming with curiosity about everything and everyone, their moods bright and eager as they followed their "uncle" all the way here. Just as they were about to trail him into his office, he suddenly stopped.
"Today marks your official employment," Jiang Suizhi said without even bending down. "Those are your workstations. You can’t follow me further. Secretary Chen will brief you on the rest. Remember, report any issues to him first—no bypassing the chain of command."
The little ones blinked their big eyes.
They didn’t understand.
"Uncle—"
Jiang Suizhi cut them off mercilessly. "Call me President Jiang."
"President Jiang," Little Le Jia finally sensed a hint of danger and asked timidly, "Then... what about Ms. Le? Doesn’t she have to work?"
"She is working," Jiang Suizhi replied coolly. "Her tasks for today are already assigned. She’s in a different department, separate from you."
An'an belatedly realized something was off. "We’re not together?"
"You are," Jiang Suizhi pointed toward the semi-transparent president’s office. "She’s supervising from inside."
At least it was better than being stuck in kindergarten, completely out of sight. Knowing their aunt was nearby gave them some security, so they obediently followed their uncle’s orders.
Seeing their acceptance, Jiang Suizhi graciously added, "Work hard. I look forward to your performance."
"Okaaay~"
With longing gazes, they watched their uncle and aunt enter the office and close the door behind them. Left standing there, the two little ones pouted, unsure what to do next.
Secretary Chen’s years of professionalism barely kept him from laughing. He pulled out two employee badges printed in a rush that morning and fastened them around the children’s necks. "These are your IDs. Keep them on at all times. This card grants you access to the cafeteria and any recreational facilities downstairs during breaks."
Then he guided them to their workstations. "These are your assigned seats. Unless it’s work-related or for getting water, coffee, or snacks, you’re not to wander around. Focus on your tasks."
Next, he handed them two folders and a voice recorder. "These are today’s assignments. Since you can’t read yet, the tasks are in picture form. By the end of the day, you need to sort these images into categories, label them, and then verbally explain the pros and cons of each—why you like or dislike them."
It sounded simple enough.
Clutching their tiny folders, the little ones nodded blankly. "Thank you, Uncle."
Secretary Chen smiled. "At the company, please call me Secretary Chen."
Their lips quivered again.
Secretary Chen’s heart ached, but he forced himself to maintain professionalism. "If you need anything, call for me. The water dispenser and restroom facilities are too high for you, so let me know when you need help. Otherwise, don’t disturb me unnecessarily."
Too shy to argue with a stranger, they just murmured, "Okay."
Once everything was settled, Secretary Chen exhaled deeply and returned to his desk.
Unsurprisingly, the company’s casual chat groups were exploding.
"What’s happening?!"
"Oh my god, oh my god! They’re right next to me—the cuteness overload is lethal. If it weren’t for my paycheck, I’d be smothering them with hugs!"
"Y’all, they’re sitting at their little desks, flipping through pictures of birds and flowers like it’s serious business."
"First-hand updates only! I need the tea!"
"Why would President Jiang bring his kids to work and set things up like this? It’s so sudden!"
Secretary Chen typed calmly: "They’re serving labor reform."
"What crime did they commit to make three-year-olds work?!"
Secretary Chen: "The crime of refusing kindergarten."
Everyone: "..."
President Jiang truly was terrifying.
Amid the chaos, someone quietly asked, "And the woman who came with President Jiang… is she the president’s wife?"
"She must be! She went straight into his office with him! Their auras match perfectly, and they have kids together!"
The group erupted again.
Unaware of the full story, Secretary Chen clarified, "Just friends."
"Uncle" and "aunt" weren’t technically relatives, after all.
"Ohhh! Friends."
"We get it."
Secretary Chen silently closed the chat, sensing his salary deduction looming.
In the CEO's office at that moment, Le Qing sat on the small sofa beside Jiang Suizhi, pulling off her mask with unrestrained delight. The space offered a clear view of the outside, but those outside couldn’t see in—finally, she no longer had to maintain her composed facade.
"You really are CEO material," she laughed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "I bet after today, they won’t even remember what ‘work’ means."
Jiang Suizhi sat in his chair, swiveling it toward her. His gaze traced every inch of her face—from the arch of her brows to the curve of her lifted lips—missing nothing.
Ever since that fleeting moment of distraction in the plaza, he’d unconsciously made a habit of studying her features, as if drawn by an instinct he couldn’t name.
And the more he looked, the harder it was to look away.
"Not just them," he said, tilting his head slightly to mask the intensity of his stare. "You’ll be staying here all day—is that alright?"
"Of course," Le Qing replied without hesitation. She had nothing else to do, after all. "I’m an expert at staying put."
Jiang Suizhi rested his elbow on the desk. "Oh? Is that something you’ve always done?"
"Pretty much," she admitted, shifting into a more comfortable position. "No work, nowhere to go—staying in was the easiest choice."
As she moved, something on her wrist caught Jiang Suizhi’s attention.
It was the bracelet—the one that had been broken when someone yanked it.
She’d had it repaired. And now it was back on her wrist.
Not the one he’d given her.
His eyes darkened, lingering on her wrist.
Maybe it was better that the bracelet had broken.
Friends came in tiers, and clearly, he wasn’t on the same level as the person who’d given her that one.
The possessiveness his therapist had warned him about? He felt it now, sharp and undeniable.
"Would you like coffee?" he asked. "Or tea?"
"Coffee," she said, spotting the machine nearby. Not wanting to trouble the ever-busy CEO, she added, "I’ll make it. Do you want some too?"
Jiang Suizhi, who’d been about to stand, smiled faintly. "Sure. Thank you. No milk, no sugar."
Unlike others, he didn’t rely on secretaries for trivial things. Most of the time, he only needed his subordinates for work reports. Coffee and anything else he consumed, he prepared himself.
Hence the tea set and coffee machine in his office.
Le Qing blinked. "Won’t it be too bitter?"
Forcing his focus back to his work, Jiang Suizhi replied, "I’m used to it."
"Getting used to bitterness isn’t a good habit," she remarked as she started preparing the coffee.
Jiang Suizhi couldn’t help glancing at her again, amused. "Why don’t you take your own advice?"
Le Qing paused, then murmured softly, "I’m learning."
Learning to be kinder to herself.
Though her voice was quiet, the office was silent, and Jiang Suizhi’s attention was wholly fixed on her. He heard every word.
From this angle, he didn’t have to hold back. Behind his glasses, his gaze turned piercing, weighted with something unspoken. "Then once you’ve learned, teach me."
Le Qing assumed he was joking and didn’t take it seriously.
She set the coffee in front of Jiang Suizhi and retrieved her laptop bag. When he’d mentioned "bringing the kids to work" at her doorstep, she’d come prepared—even here, she could keep herself occupied.
"The sofa isn’t great for laptops," Jiang Suizhi said, gesturing to the space beside him. "Sit here."
"I’m just editing videos," Le Qing explained. "I won’t have time to update them once I’m abroad in a couple of days."
Jiang Suizhi made a mental note. "I’ll hire another nanny to handle that for them."
"Huh? They’re just filming for fun."
"Doesn’t matter. Didn’t you just say you’re learning to be kinder to yourself?" He stood and moved the chair opposite him to his side. "Working all day and still editing videos—Ms. Le, you’re juggling too many roles. Is that really ‘being kind’ to yourself?"
Seeing he’d already arranged the chair, Le Qing didn’t refuse.
Sitting on the sofa all day would wreck her back, and these days, she was meticulous about her health—she couldn’t afford to let it interfere with work.
"Thanks," she said. After a moment’s thought, she fetched a sugar cube and a small carton of milk, placing them beside his coffee cup. "Then let me teach you, too."
She didn’t add them for him, unsure if he’d actually want them.
Jiang Suizhi stared, then chuckled under his breath.
Without hesitation, he stirred both into his coffee. The spoon clinked against the glass, a sound that inexplicably pleased him.
As he took a sip, Le Qing asked, "How’s the lesson? Getting used to it?"
"Not quite," he admitted, setting the cup down after another slow drink. His eyes lifted to hers as he finished the entire cup before finally saying, "But I’m getting there."
The cup met the saucer with a crisp sound, accompanied by his amused voice: "Lesson learned."
No one adapts that fast. Le Qing dismissed it as playful exaggeration.
Leaving Jiang Suizhi to his work, she stole a glance outside.
The two little ones had gone from sitting stiffly at their desks to nearly collapsing onto them—all in under half an hour.
For the kids, picture books could hold their attention for ages, full of stories to discuss. But here, surrounded by unfamiliar adults who neither spoke to them nor let them talk, the pressure of sorting through images in silence was unbearable.
But Uncle had warned them—if they didn’t finish, their toys would be confiscated. Wasn’t that worse than death?
An'an, the younger of the two, cracked first. Clutching her milk bottle, she whispered behind her hand, "Brother, can An'an take a break?"
Nearby employees stifled laughs. The boss had instructed: if the kids whispered behind their hands, as long as it wasn’t excessive, they were to play along—after all, the children believed no one could hear them.
Little Le Jia, ever the responsible one, said, "You rest. I’ll cover for you."
"Then An'an will keep going..." The little girl sighed. Her brother was even slower than she was. There was no way they’d finish today. Why did time move so slowly? When she danced, hours flew by in a blink.
"Here’s an idea," Little Le Jia whispered. "Tell Secretary Chen your bottle’s empty and you need more milk."
That way, they could rest while it was being prepared!
An'an brightened. "Good plan!"
She raised her hand. "Secretary Chen!"
"Just ‘Secretary Chen,’" the man corrected sternly as he approached.
"Secretary Chen~" An'an pleaded, lifting her bottle. "An'an and brother’s milk is all gone."
Secretary Chen melted on the spot. Taking the bottle, he said, "I’ll refill it."
The two kids jumped up. "We’ll come too~"
"No," Secretary Chen said firmly. "It’s work time."
Their hopes shattered. Even milk breaks weren’t allowed?!
Little Le Jia, ever resourceful, switched tactics. He raised his hand again. "Secretary Chen, we need to use the bathroom."
Little Sister Treasure widened her eyes and covered her mouth, whispering, "Brother, An’an doesn’t want to go to the bathroom."
"Stupid," Little Le Jia whispered back. "Going to the bathroom means we don’t have to come out right away, just like when we pretend to go to the bathroom to avoid bedtime!"
He tucked his phone into his sister’s clothes. "You can secretly play with the phone too."
This was exactly how he sneaked off to watch dance videos behind their aunt’s back.
He was quite the expert.
Little Sister Treasure gasped in delight. "Brother, you’re so smart!"
The other employees in the office: "..."
This was an old trick they’d all outgrown!
And yet, the kids had somehow stumbled upon the perfect way to slack off.
Just as Secretary Chen resigned himself to taking the kids to the bathroom—or rather, to play with their phones—the office door swung open.
Jiang Suizhi’s icy gaze swept over the two little troublemakers. "Where are you going?"
Little Le Jia shielded his sister behind him. "President Jiang, we’re going to the bathroom."
Jiang Suizhi nodded, and just as the kids thought they’d gotten away with it, he raised his wrist to check his watch. "No more than five minutes. If you’re late, it counts as skipping work. Penalty: three toys confiscated."
"!!!"
No way!
The nearby employees were equally shocked—since when was that a rule?!
The kids tried to bargain with puppy-dog eyes. "Uncle..."
Jiang Suizhi arched a brow. "Attempting to exploit personal connections? That’ll cost you five toys."
The two little ones glared at him furiously, deciding then and there to ignore their cold-hearted uncle for the time being! They’d just tattle to their aunt instead!
But then their aunt stepped out from behind Jiang Suizhi, her usually gentle face now just as stern as his—like two peas in a pod.
"After this bathroom break, the next one has to wait thirty minutes," their aunt murmured like a demon. "You’ve got four minutes left."
The two kids immediately clung to each other, pouting, not even daring to cry.
Because they were certain their aunt and uncle would dock their toys if they shed a single tear.
Secretary Chen watched the scene unfold and sighed deeply.
Truly, no one could escape the clutches of capitalism.
Not even three-year-olds.
