Chapter 406

Morning.

Yan Zhusheng woke from sleep, turned off her phone's alarm, then got up immediately to wash up.

While brushing her teeth and washing her face, she glanced at the time.

Six-thirty in the morning.

After washing up, Yan Zhusheng changed into sportswear and went downstairs to begin a slow jog around the neighborhood and the adjacent park.

As she passed the park's shrubbery, she saw a thin orange cat dart out, its big round eyes lifting to stare at her.

Yan Zhusheng took a biscuit from her pocket—something she'd grabbed on her way out—and broke it into pieces, scattering them on the ground for the cat to eat.

Then she continued her slow jog.

When she returned home, Yan Zhusheng warmed herself a cup of milk, took a shower on the second floor, came out, ate two biscuits, finished the milk, then went to the balcony to warm up her voice.

Only when the doorbell rang did Yan Zhusheng return from the balcony to the living room, walk to the door, glance through the peephole, confirm the visitor's identity, then open it.

Li Luo stood at the door, politely greeting: "Good morning, boss."

"Don't call me boss." Yan Zhusheng shook her head. "Come in."

"Then what should I call you?" Li Luo paused, stepped inside, slipped on slippers, and couldn't help asking, "There has to be some form of address."

"Hmm…" Yan Zhusheng was momentarily stumped by the question.

Calling her by name directly felt inappropriate—he was her employee.

She couldn't let him call her Zhusheng either; that would be too intimate.

So Yan Zhusheng tossed the question back at Li Luo: "Just don't call me boss. I'm not old."

Li Luo: "..."

With only two people at home, whether or not to use names didn't matter—anything could be said plainly.

Li Luo followed Yan Zhusheng into the second-floor recording studio and began today's work.

"Today we're not rushing," Yan Zhusheng said. "Just get familiar with the workflow. I usually practice singing in the morning, practice piano in the afternoon, take breaks in between—reading, watching movies. When I'm singing or playing piano, you record video. Otherwise, you edit."

Li Luo nodded and began working in sync with Yan Zhusheng's rhythm.

But soon, he realized that even during the interview, he'd thought this job was too simple.

Only after actually starting did he realize it wasn't just too simple—it required absolutely no advanced skills.

All he had to do was set up the camera properly whenever Yan Zhusheng was about to sing or play piano.

When Yan Zhusheng grew tired and took a break, Li Luo would go to the study, upload the footage, and do light editing.

There wasn't much to edit anyway…

Because Yan Zhusheng sang so well, he felt no pitch correction was needed—just cutting out the best parts gave a perfectly polished short video clip.

Even easier was that Yan Zhusheng had set him zero performance or data targets.

No minimum view counts per video, no promotion plans, no specific content requirements, not even a minimum number of videos to produce…

At noon, the cook arrived to prepare lunch. After eating, Li Luo returned to the study to begin editing.

In the afternoon, after finishing one video, Li Luo stretched in his chair in the study.

With nothing else to do and Yan Zhusheng not calling him upstairs to record again,

in the past he'd have just slacked off.

But today was his first day. After finishing his current task, Li Luo immediately stood up and headed for the second-floor recording studio.

Just as he reached the studio door, he faintly heard piano music coming from inside.

Li Luo waited quietly, listening to the unfamiliar melody, until the music paused, then he knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Hearing Yan Zhusheng's cool voice, Li Luo opened the studio door and stepped in curiously, asking, "Was that piece… not being recorded?"

"No." Yan Zhusheng's fingers danced idly across the keys. "It's a commissioned piece I composed myself. Not for online release."

"Huh?" Li Luo blinked. "Commissioned? Not an ad?"

"No." Yan Zhusheng looked at Li Luo. "A game commission—for background music in a series of levels."

"... So you're not a short-video influencer?"

"Just a hobby." Yan Zhusheng said. "My main job is composing. I write songs occasionally."

"Can I ask about your short-video account's data?"

"Data?" Yan Zhusheng tilted her head, puzzled.

"Like follower count, view counts, that sort of thing."

"Maybe a few ten thousand followers. Views per video are usually just a few thousand."

Li Luo fell silent, recalling the house's interior design and size, then glanced at the recording studio—clearly expensive.

If she relied solely on that measly few-ten-thousand-follower account, it was impossible she could support herself.

So it seemed… this boss of his might actually be a well-known composer in the industry?

After all, she could afford to pay him eight thousand a month—his monthly income must be at least thirty thousand just to cover that.

Is composing really that profitable these days?

Li Luo wasn't sure, but he didn't dare ask more.

The good news was, since short videos were just his cheap boss's hobby, the lack of requirements made perfect sense—he could relax, no traps here.

But the bad news was—

If it was just her hobby, she might stop any time she lost interest.

Meaning Li Luo could lose this job at any moment.

Thinking of this, Li Luo felt a pang of anxiety and couldn't help asking Yan Zhusheng: "Uh… boss… uh… I have a question."

"Ask."

"Is this short video project part of your long-term plan, or are you just playing around for now?"

Hearing Li Luo ask this, Yan Zhusheng glanced at him and said, "Don't worry, I won't suddenly fire you—just focus on your work."

"If the account performs well and generates extra income, I can give you a bonus."

"At least for the next year, nothing will change."

After hearing Yan Zhusheng's words, Li Luo felt slightly relieved.

Verbal promises meant little, but Yan Zhusheng didn't seem like the type to make empty promises.

And clearly, she wasn't short on money.

Once he'd thought it through, Li Luo went back to working diligently.

When the cook arrived in the evening to prepare dinner, Li Luo stayed for another meal before taking his leave and heading home.

To be fair, apart from this completely haphazard and unplanned work style, the job's benefits already satisfied him greatly.

It would be hard to find another job on the market with a monthly salary of eight thousand, relaxed hours, simple tasks, free slack time, a good-looking boss, minimal demands, and free lunch and dinner provided.

Li Luo felt that if he lost this job, he'd probably never find anything better again.

He had to cherish it.

His family urgently needed money—he couldn't afford to slack off.

Thinking of this, Li Luo walked toward the subway entrance while calculating.

Recording and editing videos during the day was easy—he doubted it would take much time.

Yan Zhusheng didn't care if he slacked off, so during free moments, he could try taking on Short Drama scripts.

Even if he didn't earn much, it would still add extra income; combined with his eight-thousand salary, he could easily make over ten thousand.

Then, when he got home at night, he couldn't stop selling stir-fried rice noodles—he had to keep going, not waste the precious evening hours.

If he calculated it this way, he'd make at least twenty thousand a month, enough to cover his mother's medicine.

Once the family house sold and he saved enough for the surgery, maybe she could be cured…

Li Luo pressed his lips together, stepped onto the subway, and took a deep breath.

Though this job was relatively easy, life's burdens still left him mentally exhausted.

At this hour, the subway had no seats—packed with people, he leaned against the wall, frowning in thought.

At least life had finally shown a glimmer of hope—may his mother's condition stabilize.

…

【Ying Chanxi】: How's it going? What's he like?

【Yan Zhusheng】: He's fine. No issues with his work.

【Ying Chanxi】: Has he done anything improper?

【Yan Zhusheng】: What do you mean by "improper"?

【Ying Chanxi】: Don't play dumb.

【Yan Zhusheng】: Aside from occasionally staring at my legs, he's been fine.

【Ying Chanxi】: …

【Yan Zhusheng】: I think he's just an ordinary guy. I don't get why you'd like him—he's completely unworthy of you.

【Ying Chanxi】: I don't like him now. Don't say nonsense.

【Yan Zhusheng】: Oh, so he was outstanding before?

【Ying Chanxi】: Ugh, you don't understand. Liking someone has nothing to do with whether they're truly outstanding.

【Yan Zhusheng】: I still can't see anything about him worth liking.

【Ying Chanxi】: Fine, if you can't see it, then don't. I only asked you to give him a job—not to vet him for me.

【Yan Zhusheng】: I thought you'd still want to get back together with him.

【Ying Chanxi】: Impossible. That's all over. Who'd want him back?

【Yan Zhusheng】: Then why did you insist on getting him a job?

【Ying Chanxi】: Just to make peace with the little girl I used to be.

【Yan Zhusheng】: Whatever you want.

【Ying Chanxi】: When does he get paid? Let me know—I'll transfer you the eight thousand.

【Yan Zhusheng】: No need. I don't need you to cover this much. I was planning to hire someone to edit videos anyway.

【Ying Chanxi】: Okay… but could you find some excuse to give him a bonus or extra commission when you pay him?

【Ying Chanxi】: Or ask him if he wants to work overtime on weekends—then pay him extra for it. I'll cover that cost myself.

【Yan Zhusheng】: Fine.

That night, after finishing her chat with Ying Chanxi about Li Luo, Yan Zhusheng leaned back against her pillow, ready to pick a movie.

But Ying Chanxi on the other end clearly wasn't done chatting—she sent a photo.

The photo showed a living room with three people on the sofa: a middle-aged couple and a tall, slender boy.

【Ying Chanxi】: It's been a while—I can't believe how much Ying Xiangtao has grown. His features look just like Aunt Yuan's.

【Yan Zhusheng】: If you've got nothing else, I'm signing off.

【Ying Chanxi】: Aunt Yuan says she misses you. Won't you come visit?

【Yan Zhusheng】: It's fine. I'm doing well on my own.

【Ying Chanxi】: She's not even trying to set you up with anyone anymore. Can't you just make up?

【Yan Zhusheng】: She wants to start a new life with your father. I'm an adult now—I support myself. I don't see the point in forcing us together.

【Ying Chanxi】: Alright, alright, let's drop it.

【Ying Chanxi】: Are you sure you won't come meet Li Luo?

【Chanxi】: No need, let's just leave it like this—it's fine.

【Zhusheng】: Then let's leave it at that. I'm signing off.

【Chanxi】: Okay.

After turning off her phone, Yan Zhusheng scrolled through the movie list on the projection screen but couldn't find anything she wanted to watch; her mood grew irritable. She rolled out of bed, walked to the balcony, and let the night breeze brush against her.

But even this didn't lift her spirits. The photo Ying Chanxi had sent earlier kept circling in her mind, a heavy weight pressing against her chest.

Yan Zhusheng frowned, rubbed her slightly uncomfortable chest, then turned back inside, changed clothes, and went downstairs for a walk, hoping to clear her head.

As she wandered aimlessly near Yintai City, near a busy intersection with heavy foot traffic, Yan Zhusheng suddenly spotted a familiar figure among the street vendors.

He still wore the white shirt from his daytime job, a cloth apron tied around his waist, standing behind an electric tricycle, skillfully stir-frying portions of fried rice noodles.

Watching him drenched in sweat, Yan Zhusheng halted. She remembered Ying Chanxi's insistence on giving him this job, and her brow furrowed slightly.

Eight thousand yuan a month isn't low—so why is he still out here selling fried noodles at night? Is he really that short on money?

In the past, Yan Zhusheng always avoided these stalls, thinking they were somewhat unclean.

But this time, driven by curiosity, she quietly stepped closer to the stall and observed him closely.

Perhaps because she had been standing there too long, Li Luo, after finishing one portion of fried noodles and finding no customers, turned to look at the figure beside him and smiled warmly: "Want a portion? It's… uh…"

It was late at night, and Yan Zhusheng had been standing off to the side; Li Luo had only caught a glimpse of someone lingering in his peripheral vision and hadn't recognized her.

Only when he turned fully to greet her did he realize—it was his boss. His expression froze.

Yan Zhusheng realized she'd been spotted. She stepped forward, glanced at the stall for a moment, then still didn't order. The food still looked too dirty to her.

So she shook her head at Li Luo and said: "I'm not eating. I just happened to be out walking and saw you."

"Oh, oh, no problem," Li Luo quickly nodded. "I'm just… uh… free at night, so I came out to earn a little extra. Won't interfere with my daytime job."

"It's fine," Yan Zhusheng said, shaking her head. The aroma from the stall made her mouth water.

Still, she held back, glanced at Li Luo again, then remembered Ying Chanxi's request. She asked: "Do you have anything planned for the weekend?"

"Nope, why?" Li Luo blinked, confused by the question.

"Would you like to work on the weekend too?" Yan Zhusheng asked. "I can pay you overtime."

Hearing this, Li Luo thought, Is this for real? He immediately nodded: "Sure thing."

"Then it's settled," Yan Zhusheng nodded, didn't linger further, and took her leave after saying this.

Watching Yan Zhusheng's figure fade into the distance, Li Luo unconsciously glanced again at her long legs. Thinking of her sudden offer of overtime pay, he pressed his lips together.

This boss… seems cold on the surface, but maybe she's actually kind-hearted?

Did she notice he's short on cash, and offered overtime pay out of sympathy?

Thinking this, Li Luo took a deep breath, shook his head, and returned to his stir-frying.

…

On Sunday, as Yan Zhusheng had said, Li Luo arrived punctually at eight in the morning.

But today was different from the previous week—by noon, the cook hadn't shown up to prepare lunch.

Instead, someone knocked on the door.

Li Luo opened it, took a large takeout bag from the delivery rider, carried it to the living room table, and fell into thought.

Yan Zhusheng, clearly having received the delivery notification, came downstairs and saw Li Luo had already placed the takeout on the table. She said: "Have lunch."

Li Luo unpacked the containers: four dishes and one soup—typical home-style stir-fries.

But the taste? Even worse than the cook's. It reeked of pre-packaged meals.

As a kitchen veteran, Li Luo could tell at the first bite.

Either the chef was terrible, or it was all pre-made—no other possibility.

Still, Yan Zhusheng ate quietly, not picky at all.

Li Luo sat beside her. Though he wasn't picky either, he couldn't help asking: "Is the cook not coming today?"

"It's Sunday," Yan Zhusheng glanced at him. "She's off. I ordered takeout."

"You don't cook yourself?"

"I can't."

"Then…" Li Luo hesitated, determined to make a good impression on his boss. "How about I make dinner tonight?"

"You?" Yan Zhusheng blinked, momentarily stunned, then realized: "You mean fried noodles?"

"…I'm not just good at fried noodles," Li Luo's mouth twitched. "Of course, if you want them, I can make those too."

"I don't eat that," Yan Zhusheng shook her head. "Can you cook regular stir-fries?"

"Yes," Li Luo nodded. "I have a chef's certificate."

"Oh." Yan Zhusheng blinked, recalling the image of Li Luo sweating profusely, wielding a wok and spatula on the street the other night, then nodded: "Go ahead."

"I'll go buy groceries this afternoon."

"Fine," Yan Zhusheng nodded, pulling out her phone.

The next second, Li Luo felt his phone vibrate.

He pulled it out and saw Yan Zhusheng had sent him 500 yuan via WeChat.

"You're…"

"For groceries."

"That's too much."

"Oh." Yan Zhusheng nodded. "The rest is payment for cooking."

Hearing this, Li Luo fell silent.

The cook's getting old—maybe it's time she retired.

Li Luo suddenly found the position of chef in Yan Zhusheng's household quite appealing.

But Li Luo only thought about it briefly; after taking the money, he began planning what to cook for dinner.

"Do you have any food preferences or restrictions?"

"Probably not."

"Alright."

……

Evening.

Yan Zhusheng heard movement at the door and knew Li Luo had returned with groceries.

She came down from the second floor and glanced at the kitchen.

Li Luo was already washing vegetables in the kitchen, wearing an apron; as he chopped, the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of the knife sounded steady, making him look serious and professional.

With nothing else to do, Yan Zhusheng sat at the dining table, facing the kitchen, scrolling through her phone while watching Li Luo work.

Midway, she suddenly felt like taking a photo, aimed her phone's camera at Li Luo's back as he chopped, and sent it to Ying Chanxi.

【Zhusheng】: (photo)

【Xixi】:?

【Zhusheng】: The one you like.

【Xixi】: I know. I didn't need you to tell me—I could tell.

【Zhusheng】: Haven't you two not seen each other in a long time? How can you tell just from a back view?

【Xixi】: The only man who can come and go in your house right now is him—no one else. I guessed it.

【Zhusheng】: So you guessed, you didn't recognize him?

【Xixi】: I recognized him.

【Zhusheng】: Then why did you say all that above?

【Xixi】: It was just intuition. But why is he in your kitchen wearing an apron?

【Zhusheng】: He's cooking dinner for me.

【Xixi】:?

【Zhusheng】: The cook's day off is Sunday. He offered to make dinner, so I let him.

【Xixi】: That's extra labor, isn't it?

【Zhusheng】: I paid him for his services.

【Xixi】: Then that's fair enough.

【Zhusheng】: Want to eat? You can come over right now if you want.

【Xixi】: Don't casually tempt me. I won't go over while he's there.

【Zhusheng】: Do you know he sells stir-fried rice noodles on the street at night?

【Xixi】: I know. Did he tell you?

【Zhusheng】: No. A few nights ago, I went out for a walk and happened to run into him.

【Xixi】: He's short on money.

【Zhusheng】: I noticed.

【Xixi】: Anyway, thank you.

【Zhusheng】: You're welcome. I just hope his cooking isn't too terrible.

【Xixi】: When the dishes are on the table, take another photo and send it to me.

【Zhusheng】: Trying to quench thirst with the sight of plums?

【Xixi】: Mind your own business.

……

At half past six in the evening, Li Luo's four dishes and one soup were set on the table.

Yan Zhusheng picked up her phone, snapped a photo of the steaming dishes, sent it to Ying Chanxi, then put the phone down.

Li Luo saw this and didn't think much of it—he assumed Yan Zhusheng was taking a photo as a keepsake.

He served each of them a bowl of rice, handed Yan Zhusheng chopsticks, then sat down.

"I made something simple—try it," Li Luo said. "See if it suits your taste."

"Mm." Yan Zhusheng sniffed the aroma of the dishes; it truly felt different from takeout, even different from the cook's food.

But she couldn't quite say how.

She tentatively picked up a piece of pork belly from the chili stir-fry, ate it slowly, then took a big bite of rice.

Honestly, Li Luo's cooking was a bit delicious.

Thinking this, Yan Zhusheng tried the other dishes one by one: cola chicken wings, tomato and egg, minced pork with eggplant…

Mm, all of them were quite good.

Much better than the cook's food.

Yan Zhusheng thought this in her mind, but her face showed no expression.

She was used to being expressionless; she rarely interacted with people, and years of living alone had left her with few facial expressions.

To Li Luo's eyes, it seemed she was a picky eater—perhaps wealthy people who had tasted exotic delicacies would find his home-cooked meal merely ordinary.

But it must still be better than takeout, right?

Li Luo thought this, secretly observing Yan Zhusheng's expression as he ate.

But by the time they finished eating, Yan Zhusheng said nothing at all—she simply set down her bowl and chopsticks as usual and got up to return to her room.

Seeing this, Li Luo said nothing, just finished eating quietly and prepared to clean the table.

But Yan Zhusheng turned and said, "Leave it. The cook will clean it tomorrow."

"Then I'll just put the dishes in the sink." Li Luo was happy to avoid washing dishes; he dumped the leftover scraps into a trash bag, sealed it, and left the plates soaking in the sink for the cook to handle.

Yan Zhusheng ignored him and walked straight back to her room.

After finishing, Li Luo picked up the kitchen waste bag, went downstairs to throw it out, then returned to selling his fried rice noodles.

…

【Xixi】: He made all this?

【Zhusheng】: Yeah, what's wrong?

【Xixi】: How does it taste?

【Zhusheng】: It's pretty good.

【Xixi】: These are all my favorite dishes.

【Zhusheng】: If you want to eat them, just come over next time.

【Xixi】: No, I was just saying that.

【Zhusheng】: I can purposely leave some food behind, wait until he's gone, then you can come over.

【Xixi】: … Let's talk about it next time.

…

Another weekend.

On Sunday morning, Yan Zhusheng kept glancing at Li Luo, making him feel strange.

But he didn't know that Yan Zhusheng had been holding back for a whole week.

Before tasting Li Luo's cooking, she thought the cook's meals were quite tasty.

But since eating Li Luo's food, these past days eating the cook's meals, she found the flavor bland and tasteless.

So unconsciously, she began looking forward to Sundays when the cook took a day off.

But on this day, Li Luo didn't volunteer to cook, as he had last time.

As a result, Yan Zhusheng kept glancing at him, hoping this employee would take the initiative.

But as lunchtime neared, Yan Zhusheng finally couldn't hold back and transferred five hundred yuan to Li Luo again.

Feeling his phone vibrate, Li Luo pulled it out, looked, and froze—he looked up at Yan Zhusheng, who was sitting on the piano.

Yan Zhusheng noticed his gaze, turned her head away to look out the window, then said: "The cook is off today too."

…

After dinner.

Yan Zhusheng secretly licked her lips, watching Li Luo clear the table, and softly said: "Li Luo."

"Huh? What is it?"

"The cook's contract expires in half a month."

"Uh… what are you getting at?"

"Become my personal chef—besides editing videos, you'll handle all the cooking." Yan Zhusheng looked at Li Luo seriously. "I'll pay you fifteen thousand yuan a month. What do you say?"

At this moment.

Let's be honest.

Li Luo was tempted.