Chapter 20 Part 2

“A bunch of customers kept asking where you’d gone, figured you’d quit. I told them you were on leave and due back in a day or two.” Wenwen added, “Oh, right—yesterday, there was this unfamiliar guy named Li who insisted on seeing you.”

“Li?”

Wenwen fished a business card from her pocket. “He left this for you.”

Yun Chun took it, and disgust flickered across her features at the sight of the name. Wasn’t this that deadbeat boss who lived off women?

What did he want?

To remind her that her contract was up?

And how the hell did he know she worked here?

Shoving the thought aside, Yun Chun gave Wenwen a small smile. “Thanks, Little Wen. I got it.”

Wenwen bit her lip bashfully. “I’ll get back to work then, Sister Yun.”

“Go ahead.”

After Wenwen left, Yun Chun took a couple of steps forward and tossed the card straight into the trash can. She even detoured to the bathroom to wash her hands.

~~~

Mo Yue’s office wasn’t over in the KTV—it was up on the higher floors of the Shangding Hotel.

Yun Chun knocked three times on the door. Only after the woman’s voice called “Come in” from inside did she dare to push it open.

The words “Radiance City Mo Family” alone commanded her respect.

It was a powerhouse dynasty she couldn’t afford to cross.

Mo Yue sat on the sofa, sipping coffee. Spotting Yun Chun, her soft pink lips curved into a perfectly measured smile. She nodded toward the facing sofa. “Have a seat.”

Yun Chun crossed over, murmured “Big Boss,” and then sat.

No sooner had she settled than a secretary bustled in with a cup of coffee, setting it before her.

Talk about efficient.

Seeing the bewilderment in Yun Chun’s eyes, Mo Yue explained, “Old Chen just tipped me off you were coming, so I had the secretary prep it ahead of time. Hand-ground. Try it out.”

Yun Chun lifted the cup and said before tasting it, “Coffee all tastes the same to me. Wine’s more my expertise.” She hoped to head off any follow-up questions about the flavor; truth was, she had zero palate for it. She’d chugged it during all-night work sessions purely for the buzz, never bothering to savor. Tea had won her over later on.

Mo Yue chuckled. “Wine’s a fine thing. So’s coffee.”

Mo Yue’s gaze rested on Yun Chun’s face, watching as she took her first sip. Then, slowly, she said, “This blend was a favorite of my friend’s in life. I didn’t care for it at first—teased her for getting a barista cert just to brew her own. But after she passed… I found myself hooked on the taste. Almost like I can picture her handpicking the beans one by one, loading them into the coffee machine.”

Such a cozy scene.

One forever lost.

Yun Chun caught her breath at Mo Yue’s opening line.

The coffee hit rich and thick on the tongue, but bitterly so.

Yun Chun didn’t dare grimace. Instead, she puzzled silently: Why’s she telling me this? Did I know her friend?

A friend gone, though…

Honoring the dead and grasping the ache of loss, Yun Chun set her cup down. “It means you loved her dearly.”

It was the best solace she could muster.

Mo Yue’s brows lifted in surprise, a smile playing on her lips. “Oh? I did love her—but don’t get the wrong idea. We were just friends.”

Now Yun Chun was truly baffled.

Wrong idea about what?

She’d only meant friendship love.

Mo Yue cut an elegant, intellectual figure in her cream-colored suit, graceful as a crescent moon. She pivoted smoothly. “I figured a week wouldn’t cut it, but here you are, back already.”

Meeting Yun Chun’s eyes, she pressed, “Everything go smoothly?”

Yun Chun murmured agreement, steering clear of her personal business. “Did the Big Boss call me here for a work assignment?”

“Do you play badminton?” Mo Yue asked.

The shift was abrupt, but Yun Chun kept up. “Yes.”

Mo Yue rose. “Then let’s go. Play a match with me.”

Yun Chun stood as well, though she ventured softly, “Big Boss, I’ve still got work…”

Mo Yue shot her a sidelong glance. “This counts as work.”

Yun Chun zipped it.

Fair enough.

The Big Boss called the shots.

On the drive to the badminton court, Mo Yue mentioned how her friend used to be her playing partner—until the friend’s death put a stop to it.

Yun Chun chimed in with a few words.

She figured Mo Yue was nostalgic, using her as an emotional outlet.

No clue why her, though.

Yun Chun played in earnest during the match, aiming to pull Mo Yue’s focus elsewhere.

Mid-break, though, she finally pieced together why Mo Yue had summoned her.

They’d changed into athletic wear beforehand—Yun Chun’s courtesy of Mo Yue. Now, post-game, sweat slicked Yun Chun’s skin from head to toe. Beneath the court lights, the beads glistened like stars in the night sky.

Mo Yue hadn’t played in ages but stayed in shape; this was a breeze for her. She waited in the rest area.

Not so Yun Chun. Nights bled into early mornings at work, days lost to sleep till afternoon—no room for workouts. Even with spare time, she stuck to light maintenance for her figure. Her metabolism helped; she never packed on pounds easily.

Break called, and Yun Chun dropped to the floor with a thud, gaping as she gulped air.

She accepted the towel from Mo Yue and mopped her brow.

Mo Yue gazed down at her, tossing out casual praise for her game before veering off. “I hear you’ve been picking up side gigs?”

The directness meant she’d done her homework. No dodging. Yun Chun nodded. “Yeah.”

“Not happy with the day job?”

Heads up—loaded question.

It jolted Yun Chun; she sprang to her feet.

Wary inside, she kept her smile sunny. “Nah, just cash-strapped now and then. Extra income helps.”

Mo Yue studied her a beat, then offered a water bottle. “I’ve got a gig for you. Interested?”

What?

The Big Boss playing matchmaker for side work?

Yun Chun held her tongue. Mo Yue went on. “Heading out on a business trip for a few days soon. No one’s free to watch the dog at home. Mind dog-sitting?”

Yun Chun’s knee-jerk: Overthought it.

Next: Probably unpaid favor.

Then: Mo Family’s loaded—can’t spare a dog walker?

She cleared her throat. “Small breed or big?”

Mo Yue’s eyes shadowed faintly, her smile warm. “Golden Retriever.”

Yun Chun shook her head, regret plain. “Afraid that won’t work. Big dogs scare me.”

Mo Yue’s smile held steady. “It’s a gentle soul. We can muzzle it.”

“Even then—”

Yun Chun had barely uttered three words when Mo Yue lowered her gaze. She folded the sweat towel with care, gripped it in her hand, and said offhandedly, “Five thousand.”

Yun Chun’s mouth snapped shut.

She choked back a response before asking, “Big Boss, how many days is your business trip?”

“Three days,” Mo Yue replied.

Yun Chun flashed a toothy grin, her expression laced with flattery. “Got it, Big Boss. You can count on me. I’ll take great care of your pet.”

Yun Chun was that kind of person—poor in pocket and ambition alike. As long as the money was good, she’d say yes to anything.

Five thousand for three days? Who wouldn’t jump at that gig?

She was genuinely terrified of big dogs, sure…

But for that cash, she could tough it out!

When it came to money, “no” wasn’t in her vocabulary!

Reality, however, had a way of proving otherwise. Facing your fears wasn’t something you could just willpower into existence. Hot blood and a fat paycheck didn’t guarantee success.

When Mo Yue sent someone to deliver the dog to Yun Chun’s place—and after they’d set down the dog food and bed and taken off—Yun Chun plopped onto the living room sofa. There she sat, locked in a staring contest with the golden retriever squatting by the coffee table.

The dog was in fantastic shape, its coat gleaming with health.

She wondered how soft it would feel to the touch.

Yun Chun pursed her lips and tentatively raised a hand to her chest. “Hey?”

She meant it as a friendly hello.

The golden retriever perked up at the sound of her voice and rose to its feet.

It faced her squarely.

“Woof!”

The bark, paired with the sudden movement, sent Yun Chun’s heart jolting. “Eek!”

Thinking she was replying, the golden retriever took a step forward and lifted its chin. “Woof woof!”

Yun Chun flung off her slippers and snatched up a throw pillow, scooting backward on the sofa. “Whoa, stay back,” she whispered.

She pointed urgently at the spot where the dog had been sitting. “Just park it right there and don’t budge.”

The golden retriever cocked its head toward her, seemingly pondering her words. But dogs were like that—the more fear you showed, the more they wanted to close in.

It lifted a paw, on the verge of advancing, when it noticed her trembling hand and the words tumbling from her mouth.

“Big guy… no, wait… big girl… nope,” Yun Chun muttered.

She’d forgotten to ask Mo Yue if it was a boy or a girl. No way to tell now, either.

But boy or girl, why was it stepping closer again?

Yun Chun cleared her throat and addressed the golden retriever directly. “You hungry? Thirsty? Tired? How about I fix you some food and water? Deal is, you keep a two-meter safety zone.”

She knew full well the dog couldn’t understand her. This was all for her own nerves.

She watched it intently. It didn’t move.

Relieved, Yun Chun relaxed a fraction. She uncrossed her legs slightly and stretched out her toes to snag her slipper.

Her legs were long enough that she hooked it easily. But in that instant, the golden retriever lunged forward like an arrow.

Yun Chun yanked her foot back and scrambled to her feet on the sofa. She steadied herself against the wall and peered down at the massive golden retriever now pressed against the sofa’s edge.

The big dog craned its neck upward, its large purple-grape eyes wide and shimmering. A fluffy paw rested on the cushion, tongue lolling out the side as it panted. Ha… ha… ha…

Up close like this, it was actually pretty adorable.

She kind of wanted to pet it.

“Woof! Woof woof!”

The sudden barks snapped her out of it.

Better not.

Some things were best admired from a distance.

“Woof!”

“Shh, quit barking. We get a noise complaint, and I’m toast.”

“Woof woof!”

“You want food? Water?”

“Woof woof woof!”

“Okay, I’ll hop down and get you some. Just… don’t touch me, alright?”

“Woof!”

Yun Chun hesitated, then padded barefoot to the far end of the sofa. Her slippers were still by the golden retriever’s spot—unreachable. Fine. She’d handle the dog food barefoot.

No sense starving the poor thing.

But things didn’t go as planned. The moment she stirred, the golden retriever planted its paws and took a step after her.

Yun Chun whipped around and tried descending from the other side. The dog pivoted too, matching her move for move.

Yun Chun: “…”

She froze for a few seconds, then spun toward the first end again.

Watching the golden retriever mirror her turn, Yun Chun suddenly burst into laughter.

How cute.

Back and forth they went, person and dog pacing the length of the long sectional sofa several times over.

That was the scene Lu Qingxue walked in on: Yun Chun strolling along the sofa cushions while the golden retriever trailed faithfully on the floor below.

Charmed as she was, Yun Chun halted the moment she sensed Lu Qingxue’s presence. The big dog stopped too—and promptly reared up, planting a paw on her foot.

Yun Chun yelped on instinct. “Ah!”

Startled, the dog yanked its paw back.

In the next breath, Lu Qingxue’s amused voice sounded in her ear. “It just wants you to pet its head.”

At the sound of Lu Qingxue’s voice, Yun Chun forgot everything else. She threw her arms around Lu Qingxue’s neck and burrowed into her embrace, pleading softly, “Pet my head first…”