"Ze."
Ze turned around to see a young man approaching him. "The manager barely scolded you today. Did you figure out some trick to win him over?"
"What trick?" Ze shook his head. "Brother Ding, do you also think the manager treats me especially well? I knew it couldn’t just be my imagination. Sister Juan said I was overthinking it."
Before, when he made a mistake, the manager would chew him out for at least half an hour. Today, it was only ten minutes—and he didn’t even call him a "stupid pig" or "dumb cow." Wasn’t that an improvement?
Old Ding studied Ze’s face but found no trace of deception. He sneered inwardly. He had thought this guy was gullible and foolish, but it seemed he was just playing dumb to outsmart everyone.
"Maybe the manager noticed your progress at work and couldn’t bring himself to scold you anymore," Brother Ding said dismissively, picking up his teacup and leaving the break room.
Just as he reached the door, he ran into the manager, who was carrying an insulated tumbler.
"Good afternoon, Manager," Old Ding said, careful not to offend him. Among the eliminated players, two had been kicked out by this fat bastard.
The manager frowned at the sight of Old Ding, and his expression darkened further when he spotted Ze filling his cup in the break room. "Stop slacking off in the break room during work hours. Get back to your desks—can’t you hear the phones ringing?"
"Yes, Manager." Old Ding lowered his head, putting on a meek and obedient act.
The manager walked away, annoyed. Seeing these two was like watching the second-to-last and the absolute worst in a meeting—a double dose of incompetence.
When he passed Xiaojuan’s workstation, his expression softened into a satisfied smile. If every intern were like her, he wouldn’t need to stuff his tumbler with loquat syrup to soothe his throat.
Once the manager was out of earshot, Xiaojuan slowed her typing. Ever since she and Ze had received that internal call from Chao Musheng in the manager’s office at noon, the manager’s attitude toward them had shifted noticeably.
He had even specifically mentioned the 52nd floor. It seemed Chao Musheng had been transferred to some critical department—one even the manager had to show deference to.
At lunch on Saturday, Xiaojuan learned from Chao Musheng’s parents that he had just finished his sophomore year and was only interning at Kunlun during his break.
A college sophomore on a temporary internship, transferred to a key department—just how capable was he?
Recalling the golden level indicators floating above Chao Musheng’s parents’ heads, Xiaojuan wondered if she’d be blinded by the brilliance if she could see his.
"Damn, Xiao Chao, you’re amazing!"
Colleagues crowded around Chao Musheng, their faces flushed with excitement. "How did you come up with this framework?"
"Maybe…" Chao Musheng rubbed his head, mussed from all the ruffling, and glanced at the Cyber Wenchang Emperor hanging on the wall. "Maybe it’s Wenchang Emperor’s blessing?"
"No way. We all pray to him, and you just got here. Why would he bless you before us?" Old Mo scoffed, but his hands moved quickly, already offering his snacks to the deity.
Scientists praying to Wenchang Emperor wasn’t superstition—it was just respecting folk culture.
With everyone distracted by the Cyber Wenchang Emperor, Chao Musheng finally rescued his disheveled hair. Whether in the game team or the software development group, people couldn’t keep their hands off it.
Hah, they must be jealous he still had hair. The envy of adults was terrifying.
"Time to clock out." He checked the time, grabbed his ID badge, and headed for the door. Before leaving, he glanced back at the Wenchang Emperor portrait surrounded by his coworkers and secretly bowed three times in his heart.
May tomorrow’s work go as smoothly as today’s.
Thinking back to the luxurious, delicious lunch he’d had, his mouth watered. Another feast like that would be perfect.
When he reached the company building’s entrance, Xiaojuan and Ze were already waiting for him. Chao Musheng raised an eyebrow. "You’re off work early today?"
"The manager was feeling merciful and didn’t make us stay overtime," Ze said cheerfully. "Brother Chao, Sister Juan said you got transferred to a new department. How is it?"
"Not bad at all." Chao Musheng led them onto Bus 114. Though it was slow, it was rarely crowded, and the three had grown accustomed to its leisurely pace.
They settled into the back seats, and soon, another passenger boarded.
"Sister Juan, Ze." Old Ding’s gaze flicked over Chao Musheng before settling on Xiaojuan and Ze with exaggerated surprise. "What a coincidence, running into you here!"
Xiaojuan smirked. He had been tailing them since they left work—what "coincidence"?
"I thought you lived in the opposite direction. Did you get on the wrong bus?" Ze asked helpfully. "You should get off before it starts moving."
Was that a threat?
Old Ding studied Ze’s guileless smile and the talisman tucked in Xiaojuan’s hand. "Right. Thanks for the reminder."
Before stepping off, he shot another glance at Chao Musheng, who had stayed silent. He vaguely remembered this guy—favored by HR on the first day, then mysteriously reassigned. So he was with Xiaojuan now?
Xiaojuan was infamous in the Infinite Space as a grind queen. In any dungeon she entered, no other player stood a chance at the top rewards.
But she usually worked alone. Why was she bringing two newbies along this time?
He opened the player chat group, where everyone used numeric aliases to hide their identities. Which of them was this guy who’d only appeared on the first day?
Wait—
Old Ding crouched by the roadside, mentally reviewing the surviving players’ faces. If he included the guy with Xiaojuan and the useless one, there should be sixteen left.
Why was there an extra?
No, no.
Old Ding shot to his feet, staring at the departing Bus 114. That bastard wasn’t even a player!
"Young man, don’t damage the plants." A sanitation worker in an orange vest glared at the grass Old Ding had unconsciously ripped out, his frown deepening.
Only then did Old Ding notice the uprooted greenery in his hand. "Mind your own business, old man."
"Twenty-yuan fine." The worker lifted his eyelids and pulled out a red supervisor’s armband from his pocket.
The moment the armband appeared, the worker’s head sprouted a "Mini-Boss" tag. Old Ding obediently forked over the cash.
"Be more careful next time." The worker handed him a receipt. "Next time, it’ll be fifty."
Old Ding forced a smile. "Understood. Won’t happen again."
This dungeon was insane. Anyone could turn into a boss—how were players supposed to clear it?
The next noon, Chao Musheng missed the cafeteria again because the executive office sent over a lavish meal.
"So this is how the software project team eats." Chao Musheng leaned back in his chair, satisfied, pulling a blanket over his stomach.
"You're overthinking it. We didn't have lavish meals every day before either." Old Mo mimicked Chao Musheng's posture as he lay down. "Maybe the boss has been making a lot of money lately and is in a good mood."
"I hope the boss gets rich every day." Chao Musheng yawned and closed his eyes.
Chao Musheng knew he was dreaming again.
Because if it weren’t a dream, he wouldn’t be able to see dozens of kilometers away.
He saw his grandparents chatting at the village activity center, his mother in high heels discussing work with a group of well-dressed young professionals, and his father watering a cactus on the windowsill.
With a shift of his gaze, he saw Kunlun Tower and the stream of cars on the highway.
In the customer service department, Xiaojuan was typing away at her keyboard, while Ze dozed off secretly, only to be caught by a passing heavyset man.
A gentle breeze blew, and Chao Musheng felt his vision drift upward with the wind, finally settling before a massive floor-to-ceiling window.
A familiar figure sat at the desk. Chao Musheng realized—was this the boss’s office?
Curious, he wondered if the night view from this window was especially beautiful.
The person at the desk seemed tired, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt and removing his glasses before walking to the window.
Catching a glimpse of the exposed collarbone and Adam’s apple, Chao Musheng shut his eyes.
Time to go, time to go.
He was a decent college student—even in dreams, he wouldn’t stare.
After his nap, Chao Musheng woke up refreshed, his fingers dancing lightly over the keyboard.
His colleagues nearby were gossiping. When he first arrived yesterday morning, they had seemed serious, professional, and aloof—exuding the cool detachment of elite talent.
But just a day later, they were already showing their true colors in front of him.
One talked about strange incidents back home, another shared stories of bizarre relatives, and eventually, the conversation turned to campus ghost stories.
"Actually, our company has had its share of supernatural events too." Old Mo saved his files, tore open a snack bag, and lowered his voice mysteriously. "They say the lights on the 4th-floor stairwell always break down, no matter how high-quality they are. They fail faster than on other floors. Sometimes, people even hear rustling sounds in the stairs."
"The 4th floor is near the staff cafeteria, so the hallway gets heavy foot traffic. Noise easily triggers the motion-sensor lights there," the team leader interjected, snatching a few cookies from Old Mo. "The lights wear out faster because they’re used more often."
"And the rustling is just the cleaning lady sweeping the stairs," Chao Musheng added. "I ran into her on my first day."
Huff, huff!
A player gripping a mop stared in terror at the fourth-floor sign glowing eerily green in the stairwell, drenched in sweat. He had been circling the stairs for what felt like forever, unable to find his way out.
The air reeked of rust—or was it blood? The mop in his hands felt suspiciously damp, as if soaked in something other than water.
The stairwell lights were out. He couldn’t see.
Thud!
Thud!
The fourth-floor emergency door shuddered under violent impacts. The player pressed against the wall, eyes locked on the door about to give way.
What was behind it?
A monster?
"We found him!"
Two security guards burst through the door, rushing toward him, followed by the head of the cleaning crew.
The motion-sensor lights flickered on.
"Goodness, why did you take that broken mop from the supply closet?"
"Are you okay? Did you get heatstroke?"
"Quick, help him out. The air here isn’t great."
The fire escape’s ventilation was isolated from other areas to prevent smoke and flames from spreading during emergencies.
The cleaning supervisor never expected a simple stairwell-cleaning task for the intern to turn into such a mess.
How could someone so tall and sturdy be this physically weak?
Interns these days just weren’t what they used to be.
She sighed wearily at the pale, sweat-soaked young man.
She couldn’t wait for his internship to end. Keeping someone like this in her department was nothing but stress.
"Should I tell you about the haunted bathroom on the 8th floor instead?" Old Mo tightened his grip on his snack bag, determined not to let his coworkers steal more. "Or the printer incident on the 13th floor—"
Ahem. The team leader shot him a warning glance. Enough. The boss is right there.
Old Mo shoved the snacks under his desk, wiped his mouth, and clicked his mouse, pulling up a coding interface.
If he didn’t look up, the boss wouldn’t catch him slacking.
"Good afternoon, Boss." The team leader glanced at his "hardworking" colleagues and stood to greet Su Chenzhu.
Behind him, several executive office staff wheeled in carts laden with milk tea, pastries, cakes, and fruit. "You’ve all been working hard lately. Take a break."
The colleagues chorused, "Not at all, not at all. Thank you, Boss!"
So the boss had come personally to deliver refreshments. Keyboards and mice were abandoned as everyone swarmed the carts.
"Here, Musheng!" Old Mo swiftly snatched a box of fruit and shoved it into Chao Musheng’s hands.
Inside were premium white strawberries, lychees, and other luxuries, each piece gleaming with freshness.
Chao Musheng couldn’t help stealing a few more glances at Su Chenzhu. What a generous boss!
His gaze lingered on the man’s attire—buttons fastened to the top, a different outfit from the dream, with a black tie secured by a discreet black opal clip.
Noticing Chao Musheng’s attention, Su Chenzhu picked out a slice of cake from the cart and handed it to him. "Try this one."
"Thank you, Mr. Su."
Orange-flavored—his favorite!
"You’re still young, still growing." Su Chenzhu’s thumb brushed lightly against Chao Musheng’s fingertip, sending a jolt through him. He quickly withdrew his hand, clasping it tightly behind his back.
Chao Musheng, already twenty: "..."
So I’m still in my growth phase, huh?
"This box has a less-than-fresh lychee." Su Chenzhu plucked the fruit box from Chao Musheng’s hands and replaced it with another.
Was it just his imagination, or did this one feel heavier?
Chao Musheng peeked at the discarded box in the cart’s bottom layer. Was there really a bad one? I didn’t see it.
Oh well. Right now, all he cared about was the cake.
"Enjoy your break. I won’t disturb you further." Watching Chao Musheng’s focus shift entirely to the cake and fruit, Su Chenzhu rubbed his thumb, still warm from the brief contact. "If you like these, I’ll arrange more tomorrow."
Huh?!
Chao Musheng’s head snapped up, eyes blazing as they followed Su Chenzhu’s retreating figure.
Mr. Su, you’re the best boss in the world!
Sensing the weight of that gaze, Su Chenzhu touched the top button of his shirt.
Perhaps Musheng prefers a more serious, composed man. Why else would he refuse to look at me when I undid my collar?
"The boss has been acting a bit off lately." Old Mo peeled a lychee, his tone gossipy. "Do you think he's in love? They say rich people with love brains tend to throw money around when they get emotional."
"Boss has always been generous with us," another colleague countered. "You're overthinking it."
Old Mo scoffed. "The lychees he treated us to before weren’t the premium 'Gualv' variety, and the strawberries weren’t white strawberries."
Same category, but could the prices possibly compare?
Old Mo turned to the team leader. "Leader, you interact with the boss more often. Has there been any beauty appearing around him lately?"
"Can’t the tea break shut your mouth?" The team leader sighed as everyone, even the new guy Chao Musheng, looked at him expectantly. "I haven’t seen any 'beauty,' so stop speculating."
From the 50th floor up, the only new addition recently was Chao Musheng.
The team leader glanced at Chao Musheng, who was happily eating cake with a spoon, his eyes curved in delight.
Hmm…
Absolutely no chance of that.
Another week passed, and the players' progress remained sluggish. Still, luck seemed slightly better this time—only two players were eliminated, leaving thirteen in the group chat.
[Ugh, the system assigning daily tasks on a weekend? So annoying.]
[Who’s as unlucky as me? Today’s task is drinking water from a street trash can.]
[Hey genius, just have another player buy a bottle, toss it in, then pick it up and drink. Problem solved.]
[Heh. Some of us are grinding tasks while others cozy up to NPCs and stay silent in the chat.]
The group went quiet for a moment after that message.
Soon, the players resumed complaining about their dailies as if they hadn’t seen it.
Everyone had their own way of tackling tasks. Was this person trying to stir anger or treat them like fools?
In a high-stakes game like this, resorting to such cheap tricks was just embarrassing.
[Anyone know who the editor-in-chief of Time Magazine is?]
[Time’s a pretty famous fashion mag. Lately, fans of an artist under Kunlun’s film division have been trashing its editor online—apparently, she canceled his debut cover. Why the sudden interest?]
[Related to my task. No wonder it’s so bizarre. Kunlun’s involved again.]
[I’m interning in the film division. Let me dig up the editor’s info for you.]
Xiaojuan tossed her phone aside after skimming the chat.
The sky was overcast, threatening rain.
When players first entered the game, daily tasks were harmless little challenges. But the further they progressed, the weirder the tasks became.
The system was conditioning them like dogs, gradually raising their tolerance until, by the final days, players wouldn’t hesitate even if ordered to blow up Kunlun Tower.
By afternoon, thunder roared, and rain poured so heavily the streets were barely visible.
Chao Musheng checked the time. His father was in a meeting at school, and his mother, Chao Yin, was working overtime.
The relentless thunder unsettled him. He opened his phone and tapped his mom’s contact.
[Twilight: Dearest Mom, how much longer till you’re off?]
A few minutes later, Chao Yin replied: [About two more hours.]
[The rain’s too heavy, and Dad’s still stuck at school. You’ve been pulling overtime for days—don’t drive. I’ll pick you up.]
"Sis, smiling like that—did hubby worry about the rain and offer to fetch you again?" A cameraman teased. "Ah, what a sweet problem. Too bad he’s so clingy."
"Not him." Though exhaustion lingered in her eyes, Chao Yin couldn’t suppress her grin. "It’s my kid. Worried I’m overworked and insists on coming to get me."
Her colleagues knew Chao Yin had a child, but due to her career, she’d never posted photos. No one even knew the kid’s gender.
Now, curiosity buzzed. With Chao-jie’s looks, her child had to be stunning, right?
[Found the Time editor’s info.]
Xiaojuan slurped noodles as the player chat lit up again.
[Chao Yin, female, 47.]
[Time Magazine’s in chaos over the cover swap. If you hurry, you might catch her. Sent the office address privately.]
Chao Yin?
Seeing the shared surname with Chao Musheng, unease prickled Xiaojuan’s gut.
She dropped her chopsticks and clicked the info-provider’s profile.
[Could you send me the address too?]
Without question, the player forwarded it.
"Sister Juan, the rain’s insane. Where are you going?"
"Need to check something." Heart pounding, Xiaojuan dialed Chao Musheng. No answer. She bolted downstairs, drenched before remembering she’d forgotten an umbrella.
Soaked, she finally hailed a cab. Her phone rang as she slid inside—Chao Musheng calling back.
Her voice trembled. "Chao-ge."
"Xiaojuan, bad signal in the basement." Background chatter filled the line.
"Chao-ge, where are you now?"
"Outside Mom’s office. The rain’s too heavy—came to take her home."
The panic dissolved. Xiaojuan hung up, wringing her dripping hair, then laughed at her own absurdity.
Chao Musheng, visiting his mom’s workplace for the first time, felt underdressed amid the stylish, impeccably groomed staff.
"Handsome, we don’t accept walk-in talent submissions," the receptionist said, awed by the tall, effortlessly cool guy before her. "Everyone’s swamped today. Maybe come back next week?"
"Thanks, but I’m not here for that. Just picking up a family member."
"Family?" The receptionist blinked. "Who are you here for?"
"I’m Chao Yin’s son. Any idea how much longer she’ll be?"
"You’re Editor Chao’s son?!"
Staring at the unfairly attractive young man, the receptionist reeled. Who on earth spread rumors that Editor Chao’s kid was too ugly to bring out in public?
