If she had known this would happen, why did she bother in the first place? Liu Ran wanted to cry but had no tears. She really shouldn’t have chosen a horror movie. Now, not only was her afternoon nap ruined, but her spirits had taken a brutal hit from the ghost flick, and to top it off, she earned a wave of mockery from Ming Siyu. Zero damage to the enemy, ten thousand to herself.
For the next hour or so, Liu Ran checked her phone every two minutes on average. Finally, at 1:50 p.m., she felt a wave of relief:
“Time’s up. We should head to the construction site!”
After being tormented by the horror movie for over an hour, Liu Ran’s wolf ears drooped down all fluffed up and irritable. She haphazardly covered them with her hat.
They arrived at the site around 2:30 p.m. The group donned safety helmets and followed the project manager into the grounds. During the earlier cooperation discussions, Ming Siyu had already shared the specifics of the factory site with Jian Huaijin—blueprints, detail drawings, including plumbing and wiring—which Jian Huaijin’s technical team had reviewed. Today’s visit was to check the surrounding environment and identify specific modifications needed. The engineers and contractors discussed how to renovate the factory to meet Jian Pharmaceuticals’ new production line requirements with the shortest time and least cost.
Next to the large and small factory buildings stood a newly completed office tower, ten stories high with over six hundred square meters per floor. Secretary Lin suggested going up to take a look. Nearby was an artificial lake with exceptionally clear water that sparkled under the sunlight, along with a large lawn. The area lacked tall buildings, making the environment pleasant with fresh air.
The engineering director and project manager explained various site details as they went. Ming Siyu listened and exchanged thoughts on issues and solutions with them. Liu Ran, standing nearby, only half-understood but found it useful, so she quietly jotted notes on her phone.
Jian Huaijin occasionally chimed in or asked questions. She didn’t have much investment experience either, and Ming Siyu’s responses were straightforward and simple, helping Liu Ran grasp quite a bit too.
It turned out Ming Siyu’s development plan for this land went far beyond just building a single corporate factory. When she selected the site, she already had long-term visions. The environment was good, transportation convenient, close to a regional logistics hub, backed by A City for low logistics costs, no risk of cross-contamination, and just a few hundred kilometers from import-export ports. It had the potential to grow from one enterprise into a full new production park.
Liu Ran was so impressed she almost wanted to invest here herself. Too bad she had no money.
On the tenth floor, looking west as Secretary Lin had said, there was indeed a clear lake. Sunlight gleamed on its surface like a mirror embedded in green velvet. Liu Ran squinted, cupping her hands into a makeshift telescope, and even spotted a few small sailboats.
Jian Huaici held her safety helmet with one hand and tugged Jian Huaijin’s clothes with the other. Her face flushed from the sun, she looked cute and lively: “Sis, can we go play by the lake?”
Jian Huaijin indulgently agreed while slipping her hand behind Jian Huaici’s waist, keeping an inch of distance from her clothes—an unobtrusive way to protect her sister from accidentally falling.
Watching from the side, Liu Ran felt a pang of envy. It had been so long since she’d experienced such familial warmth.
“Secretary Liu, come with us too,” Jian Huaici suddenly invited.
Caught off guard, Liu Ran jumped and quickly made an excuse: “I have to head back to A City with President Ming. Have fun with President Jian.”
Jian Huaijin asked, “What year were you born, Secretary Liu?”
After Liu Ran answered, Jian Huaijin nodded thoughtfully: “So Secretary Liu and Little Ci are just a year apart. No wonder she wants to hang out with you. People your age tend to have more in common. Little Ci just returned to A City and isn’t too familiar with the area yet. She hasn’t had time to make friends her age.”
“If you’re willing, I can ask Siyu on your behalf to let you keep Little Ci company for a few days. I’m sure Siyu will give me that face.”
Jian Huaijin’s tone was gentle yet firm, polite but with an undertone of insistence. She didn’t call her “President Ming” but “Siyu”—not too distant, not too close. Liu Ran guessed they had some history, though not as tight as Ming Siyu and He Qiange.
Liu Ran did crave some free time to play, but her gut told her agreeing would lead to trouble.
She refused again, citing company matters. The Jian sisters didn’t press; it was their first meeting, after all—not close enough to insist. And they certainly didn’t lack for company.
Liu Ran turned to see Ming Siyu and Secretary Lin heading to the other side of the floor and hurried after them. Reflecting on her chat with Jian Huaici and Jian Huaijin, she felt a bit wistful.
She’d refused for work reasons, but she knew today was her second-to-last day on the job.
Honestly, she enjoyed tagging along with Ming Siyu on outings like this—running to sites and projects. Ming Siyu’s attention wasn’t solely on her, giving her a taste of fresh, free air in small doses.
She could wear her hat and long sleeves, and aside from Ming Siyu, no one knew about the silver-gray wolf ears hidden underneath. People’s gazes focused more on her relationship with Ming Siyu than probing her non-human traits. The former was far easier to stomach.
Plus, she got exposure to project knowledge, which felt novel and touching—like gradually reintegrating with society after prison.
Secretary Lin passed out water bottles. Liu Ran took one, twisted it open, and was about to drink when Ming Siyu handed over her unopened one.
Was she supposed to open it? Hold it for her? Was it for her?
After the shrimp tail incident at lunch, Liu Ran hesitated to guess Ming Siyu’s intentions.
Finally, Ming Siyu ordered, “Open it.”
Liu Ran handed over her already-opened but undrunk bottle, then took Ming Siyu’s and passed it back after opening. Ming Siyu took a few gulps, screwed it shut, tossed it to Liu Ran, and continued looking around.
They didn’t finish until after 5 p.m. Jian Huaijin and Jian Huaici planned to stroll by the lake, row boats, then return to A City. But Ming Siyu had no desire to linger; they’d seen everything needed, so it was time to go.
Before leaving, Jian Huaijin formally raised handing the project to Jian Huaici: “My lab has some research pressing, so I might not have much time for the project’s progress. Huaici is my little sister, fresh out of her college entrance exams with summer break free. I want to give her some training. I’ll have her follow up from here on. She lacks experience, so please guide and accommodate her, President Ming. My technical team will stay on your side.”
In front of both sides’ subordinates, Jian Huaijin properly addressed her as “President Ming,” all business.
Her words were tactful, but it was something both parties already knew. Now out in the open, mainly for the project staff to take Jian Huaici seriously. Ming Siyu naturally agreed, promising good care.
Jian Huaici proactively asked to add their WeChats for work discussions. She scanned Secretary Lin, the engineering director… and finally reached Liu Ran.
Liu Ran hesitated, unsure if to add her. In this setting, it was hard to say she’d quit tomorrow.
Jian Huaici looked up expectantly.
With a pause, Liu Ran showed her QR code. If she couldn’t say it face-to-face, she’d type it later.
“No need to add Secretary Liu,” Ming Siyu suddenly interjected. Everyone turned; her emotions were inscrutable behind her glasses.
Jian Huaici smiled sweetly: “Why not?”
Liu Ran sensed Ming Siyu might say something humiliating and blurted first: “Actually, I’m quitting tomorr—”
“Secretary Liu is my personal secretary and doesn’t handle projects. Adding people unrelated to her duties could distract her at work.”
They spoke at once. Ming Siyu paused, then gave Jian Huaici an out: “Huaici, secretaries need full focus on the job. Please understand.”
A buzz roared in Liu Ran’s ears.
She stared at Ming Siyu in shock. The fragile harmony they’d carefully maintained shattered under the golden sunset. Everything felt pale and powerless.
Ming Siyu’s words were veiled but clear to all present: Liu Ran was her possession, bound to obey. The secretary role was mere cover. As an Alpha, with Jian Huaici an Omega, this was Ming Siyu staking her claim.
Jian Huaici’s smile stiffened briefly, but she recovered.
“Sorry, President Ming. I thought Secretary Liu was on this project too. Since she’s same age, I figured she’d help me fit in quick. But if not, no need to add her.”
Her lively, casual tone warmed the suddenly chilled air.
The driver opened the car door. After Ming Siyu got in, she waited, seeing Liu Ran still standing with phone in hand, staring ahead. Calmly: “Get in, Secretary Liu.”
Liu Ran glanced at Jian Huaici, then silently walked to the car.
Ming Siyu was like dangerous undercurrents beneath ice.
And she had to approach.
In the car, Liu Ran hugged the door, as far from Ming Siyu as possible, staring out the window, silently venting her rage. The space was small; with the driver, all three presences loomed large. Liu Ran was sure Ming Siyu felt her anger. She clenched her fists, waiting for Ming Siyu to speak first so she could demand answers. Normally, Ming Siyu would seize such humiliation and grind her pride further.
But ten minutes passed with no words from Ming Siyu. The silence was unnerving.
Liu Ran sneaked a glance back. Ming Siyu was replying to a work email.
She wasn’t even on her radar. Ming Siyu had no clue she was furious, didn’t see her words as excessive or hurtful. Of course not—Ming Siyu never saw her as human, just a pet dog. Naturally, no thought for her feelings. Maybe Ming Siyu thought she should be proud: owner parading her dog, declaring “mine,” and the dog wags its tail.
She’d long stopped expecting anything from Ming Siyu. Yet that sliver of kindness at lunch, like a breeze over dead embers, brought oxygen and reignited a frail but bright flame.
Liu Ran hated herself for it. Every time she steeled to hate Ming Siyu, some casual act undermined it.
Noticing her gaze, Ming Siyu typed on: “Spit it out if you have something to say.”
“Why did you say that in front of everyone just now?”
Her voice cracked on the first words, turning anger into grievance.
She dug nails into her thigh, refusing to cry now—it would weaken her already shaky momentum.
The more she fought it, the faster tears welled. She blinked furiously.
Ming Siyu finished her email and glanced her way.
“Was I wrong, Liu Ran?
“Do you handle projects?
“Were you hired through normal channels as a secretary? Do you have Secretary Wen’s level of skills?
“You’re easily distracted. If someone messages you at work, can you resist checking before finishing?”
Ming Siyu fired off questions.
Liu Ran was speechless. Every answer was no.
But.
This wasn’t about right or wrong.
And even if true, it didn’t mean blurting it out anytime, anywhere.
“You say it like that, and what will they think of me? In their eyes, I’ll just be a useless waste without any agency, someone who gets everything through your connections… You might not care about others’ opinions easily, but I do. I need—”
Ming Siyu interrupted her.
“Liu Ran, I understand why you’re throwing such a tantrum over what I said. Because it’s the objective truth, and you know it better than anyone else there. You have no other choice but to listen to me, and you can’t change that, nor do you want to accept it, so you’re furious about it.”
“Getting angry just because someone speaks the truth—I’ve seen plenty of people like you. And besides, you’re nothing but a useless waste without me.”
Ming Siyu said this with a hint of exasperation, though she held her patience.
Liu Ran had only gotten this job thanks to Mao Rongrong, through her connections. She was worlds apart from someone like Secretary Wen, who earned her position through real ability. Did Liu Ran really expect others to believe she’d advanced on her own merits?
If her mood hadn’t been decent today, Ming Siyu wouldn’t have bothered wasting words on her.
“Give me a chance, and I’ll do well. I’m not a useless waste who can’t do anything. I just lack oppor—wah—tunity!”
“Crying and whining after just a couple of words—fix that habit first.” Ming Siyu tossed a pack of tissues at her. “Just the fact that I bought you for 25 million means we’ll never be equals. So stop bargaining with me over your ridiculous notions of equality, dignity, and face. It just comes off as pretentious whining.”
Then, Ming Siyu’s lips curved upward in a smirk, her tone turning teasing: “Or should I call you—Opportunity Sis, Equality Sis, Dignity Sis, Face Sis? Which one do you like, Secretary Liu?”
Liu Ran covered her ears. “Don’t say it anymore!”
Unfortunately, with four ears, she could only cover two.
Ming Siyu’s words stung her eyes red, yet she had to admit they were all true. And the truth often hurt the most, breaking defenses the easiest.
Ming Siyu continued her devilish whispers: “Which one can’t I say? Opportunity Sis or Face Sis… Or do you hate them all? Looks like Secretary Liu’s favorites are still Little Wolf or Little Dog. You’ve never covered your ears so pitifully when your owner calls you those…”
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!
Liu Ran stared at Ming Siyu’s moving lips, breathing heavily. This wicked woman—her mouth was so venomous that even licking her own lips would kill someone.
At this point, Liu Ran had little reason left, only one thought: make Ming Siyu shut up, stop saying things she didn’t want to hear.
Her vision blurred, the scene before her turning chaotic and distorted. Gradually, only those small, vivid red lips remained, clearly opening and closing.
Block them… Block those hated lips…
“I said don’t say it anymore! I don’t like it! I don’t want to hear it!”
Liu Ran lunged forward suddenly, capturing the lips at the end of her gaze.
The ugly words finally stopped.
The next second, she was roughly pushed away.
With nearly a meter of space between the front and back seats, Liu Ran’s back slammed into the front seat, and she tumbled into the gap between the rows, ending up in a twisted sprawl on the floor beneath the seat.
Her brain cleared a bit from the impact.
Pressure bore down on her leg.
Ming Siyu had one foot on her thigh. In the dim light, Liu Ran couldn’t make out the darkening eyes of the high-heel wearer.
But she saw the dirt from the construction site on the heel of those pointed dark-red-soled high heels—a small patch of dried gray-brown, like the color of those failed Hot Lattes she’d made.
Some dirt had rubbed onto the black suit pants, standing out starkly. Even more striking was the glimpse of snowy white ankle and foot beneath the pant leg, the thin muscles tensing into a graceful curve. It was a visually striking scene—if she weren’t the one being stepped on.
Then, her neck tightened. Ming Siyu suddenly leaned in close, her fingertip slipping effortlessly into the tightly buttoned collar of Liu Ran’s shirt, hooking the Black Leather Collar and yanking it back hard.
Liu Ran was forced to tilt her head up toward Ming Siyu.
Nose to nose.
“Without my permission, you don’t have the right to kiss me first.” Ming Siyu said coldly. “Only I kiss you.”
The high heel pressed the black suit pants into a dent.
Realizing what Ming Siyu was doing, Liu Ran didn’t freeze or try to dodge like before.
Why should it always be Ming Siyu in control? Even something like kissing had to be on her terms?
Liu Ran reached up, hooking her arm around Ming Siyu’s neck, straining to tilt her head higher. Their lips mashed together, deforming.
Sensing Liu Ran’s challenge to her dominance, Ming Siyu tightened the collar displeasingly and extended her tongue.
But Liu Ran refused to yield, even at the risk of suffocation.
They tore at each other’s lips. Until a faint metallic tang of blood spread between their teeth.
