Chapter 21: Relatives (Requesting Monthly Votes)

“Manager Zheng, good morning.”

Seeing Zheng Can, Shen Siyuan greeted him politely, but not warmly.

“Morning.”

Zheng Can was far more enthusiastic than before, even casting a probing glance at Shen Siyuan.

But Shen Siyuan pretended not to notice.

Zheng Can was a complicated man—Shen Siyuan simply didn’t like him.

He lacked ability and relied entirely on flattery; his current position came solely from his extraordinary connection with the president of Guanghui Animation.

As a leader, he had little independent judgment, changing directives daily, causing the online gaming department to waste countless efforts—many held deep resentment toward him.

While the single-player department thrived with annual salary increases, the online gaming department stagnated, its salaries unchanged for three years, and every annual meeting brought public reprimands from leadership—who wouldn’t be annoyed?

Seeing Shen Siyuan head toward the operations department, Zheng Can turned and greeted Jiang Wenxin.

Compared to Shen Siyuan, his enthusiasm was even more obvious.

“Accountant Jiang, good morning.”

But Jiang Wenxin merely nodded indifferently; Zheng Can didn’t get upset, instead warmly asking if she’d eaten breakfast.

Jiang Wenxin held an exceptionally unique position in the company—even as a senior executive, Zheng Can had to smile and cater to her.

Jiang Wenxin gave him a few vague replies, then walked straight toward the finance department.

Watching her retreating figure, Zheng Can turned back to glance toward the operations department.

Sitting at his desk, Shen Siyuan turned on his computer, tossed the empty breakfast bag aside, then pulled out his phone and discovered several unread messages.

Opening them, he found Ding Youguang and Zhou Zheng had created a group chat and were bombarding it with messages.

“Big Brother Shen, do you know Accountant Jiang…?”

“Shen Siyuan, boss, are you dating a rich woman? Don’t forget your poor buddies once you’re rich…”

“You’ve been hiding this tight—are you some rich kid here just to experience life?”

“Please don’t go full serious…”

“We’re all brothers in the same trench—you can’t abandon the masses…”

“Spill it—are you just as broke as we are?”

…

Watching them trade jabs, Shen Siyuan couldn’t help but laugh.

“We just know each other—you’re imagining too much,” Shen Siyuan replied.

“Just know each other?”

“Come on, is that even human speech?”

“I know her too—why doesn’t she ask me if I’ve eaten breakfast?”

“Said she bought too much? That bag’s never been opened—do you think we’re blind?”

“Aaaah, you’re so damn lucky—you’ve finally joined this niche path, your future is bright…”

“Even though Accountant Jiang is rich and beautiful, Shen Siyuan, don’t be like this—pfft, I look down on you, unless you introduce her to me…”

…

“Really just know each other—stop making up nonsense. Accountant Jiang thinks I’m a decent guy and offered to introduce me to someone,” Shen Siyuan said.

There was no point hiding it—they worked in the same company, constantly running into each other. Given Jiang Wenxin’s attitude toward him, someone would eventually find out anyway; better to just say it outright.

“Introduce you to someone? Why?”

“Forget others—what do I lack compared to you? I’m more ambitious, more handsome—why doesn’t she introduce me?”

“I earn more than you, my coding skills are better, I code like an artist—why doesn’t she introduce me?”

“Believe it or not, I’m busy—this morning I’ll finish the fishing game proposal.”

Hearing this, they grew serious and stopped joking.

Shen Siyuan thought the matter was settled, but shortly after arriving at work, Zhou Chuan sitting across from him sent a message.

“What’s your relationship with Accountant Jiang?”

Shen Siyuan froze—he hadn’t expected word to spread so fast, but quickly realized Zheng Can must have asked.

After thinking, he replied: “She’s a distant relative of mine.”

He then opened WeChat and messaged Jiang Wenxin, asking her to coordinate their story.

Jiang Wenxin replied instantly, agreeing without hesitation.

At that moment, she was messaging her husband, recounting the morning’s events—she was still in shock.

They’d assumed Shen Siyuan was merely an odd man with some special abilities—but even odd men were still human.

Yet what he’d shown that morning had gone beyond anything a human could possess.

He’d summoned a guardian spirit, displayed divine powers, and especially the supernatural aura around Dou Dou—it was unmistakably extraordinary.

Earlier, Jiang Wenxin had appeared calm, but her legs had nearly gone numb; her mind raced with questions about Shen Siyuan’s true identity.

That’s why, even when Zheng Can greeted her, she’d given only a perfunctory response—she simply hadn’t had the mental bandwidth to care.

“You never mentioned this before.”

Hearing this, Zhou Chuan was surprised.

“You never asked,” Shen Siyuan said.

Zhou Chuan sent a dog emoji, then dropped the subject—presumably to report back to Zheng Can.

Shen Siyuan paid him no more attention, opening the fishing game proposal to refine it further.

The fishing gameplay was simple, but the proposal was not.

First, he considered fish species and their point values; different fish had varying capture difficulties.

He also had to determine when each fish would appear and in which levels.

Additionally, Shen Siyuan reworked the point leaderboard: besides the top ten receiving rewards, points could now be used for lotteries.

This was primarily to prevent players with no chance of top ten from slacking off—giving their points purpose and a way to be spent.

As a result, the number of factors to consider multiplied.

All morning, Shen Siyuan rushed to complete the first draft, then sent it directly to the group.

Li Qunfang had also been added; the group name was now 【Fishing Lads Casting Across the Universe】—over-the-top and grandiose. Shen Siyuan assumed Ding Youguang had renamed it, but later learned it was Li Qunfang’s doing.

“Let’s start with this first draft. For fish images, find resources online or extract from other fishing games. @Li Qunfang, you’ll adjust and modify these resources later—this will speed up our progress…”

“Shen Siyuan’s idea is great.”

Ding Youguang was thrilled—he hadn’t thought of this himself.

Don’t blame Shen Siyuan for not going offline—this was standard practice in gaming companies: one game’s code could be repackaged into dozens of skins and launched as new games to rake in cash.

As for fish image resources, they weren’t using them directly—only as “references”—which already counted as having professional ethics.

Shen Siyuan gave further instructions; his portion of the project was now complete, with only minor optimizations left for later.

After a busy morning, he spent the afternoon slacking off. When quitting time came, Lin Manzhi stopped him and reminded him he had to meet Jiang Tingyu that evening.

“I won’t forget—I’m heading over now,” Shen Siyuan said.

But as he stepped out of the company, he found Tao Guangxia waiting by the stairwell.