Chapter 25: Morning at Feng Gao Consulting (Please Collect and Follow)

“Clang clang—”

Feng Gao’s curses were heard only by the sharp-eared little fox; everyone else heard nothing—but the loud “clang clang” of Feng Gao kicking the roller shutter echoed throughout the entire street, even inside Six Happiness Tea House.

When there was a spectacle to watch, families sipping tea and eating pastries inside the tea house instinctively turned their heads to see what was happening on the street.

But unfortunately, Feng Gao had already retreated to his newly purchased Porsche bearing temporary plates, frantically calling all employees to return and secure the premises.

Yu Xueqing held An Sheng as she stood with her parents on the windowsill, gazing out—but saw nothing.

Yet when Yu Zhenghong spotted the sign of Feng Gao Consulting Company, he snorted, his expression darkening slightly.

An Sheng’s lips curled upward slightly, and Chen Fengshui’s cheeks also twitched with a peculiar smile.

Clearly, both knew exactly who had just kicked the roller shutter with those “clang clang” blows.

After watching for a while and seeing nothing worth seeing, everyone returned to their seats and ordered dishes.

“Ying ying ying—”

An Sheng moved closer to Yu Xueqing, his eyes scanning the menu.

An Sheng had already experienced the morning tea culture of Xia Dong and Xia Nan in his past life; it was described as drinking tea and eating pastries.

But for the people here, morning tea was a family-based social activity.

An Sheng quite liked eating a hearty breakfast, but he had a slight aversion to morning tea culture.

Anyone who had done business in Xia Dong or Xia Nan knew this place was brutally pragmatic—how pragmatic?

Small businesses? Everyone shares, everyone profits; a little less margin here or there? No problem.

Business here doesn’t involve empty talk, but if the sum involved grows larger—especially when dealing with individual entrepreneurs—you must bring your family along for a meal.

They won’t judge you—they’ll judge your family, and children are the primary focus of observation.

Adults lie with their mouths but tell the truth with their hearts; children can’t hide it, and their upbringing reveals the parents’ character.

Singles are viewed with suspicion; the solitary and childless are viewed with extreme suspicion.

When the whole family offers sacrifices to heaven, their power is boundless.

Run off with the loot, and you vanish without a trace.

An Sheng had experienced morning tea networking, and the way partners scrutinized his lineage like checking a family genealogy made him feel deeply annoyed.

I’m f***ing working a job where I can’t even afford two meals a day or rent in two places—why on earth would I get married and have kids just to add more misery to a life that’s already miserable?

An Sheng used to despise morning tea networking.

But now.

“Ying ying ying—”

Qing! Hurry! The shrimp dumplings are almost gone!

An Sheng propped his front paws on the table, stood upright, his face urgent as he raised a paw and pointed at the shrimp dumplings on the table.

One steamer basket held only three dumplings; even though they’d just ordered three baskets, only two had arrived so far.

An Sheng’s strategy was to strike first: grab the two baskets already on the table, then rush for the next one.

“Don’t rush, Xiao An.”

Yu Xueqing chewed her char siu bao, mumbled a reply with her mouth full, picked up her chopsticks, and placed a shrimp dumpling onto An Sheng’s plate.

Put it in my mouth!

An Sheng’s face lit up with delight as he devoured it greedily.

The tea house’s snacks? An Sheng took one bite and knew they were low-quality pre-made goods.

But free food always tastes delicious.

Just like An Sheng’s former colleague, with a solemn expression, had once told him: “I don’t smoke Lotus cigarettes because Lotus carries mystical properties—you can never smell the lotus fragrance from cigarettes you buy yourself.”

Then he opened the Lotus cigarettes An Sheng had prepared to give to a client.

All colleagues in the room sighed—free really is the most satisfying.

Then

The office had cigarettes but no fire; a whole room of fools buzzed around, trying to find something to light them.

But An Sheng knew—they loved the challenge of having cigarettes but no lighter.

……………

Compared to the joyful, family-filled atmosphere of Six Happiness Tea House, where two families happily ate breakfast,

Feng Gao Consulting Company was shrouded in gloom.

After the locksmith broke the lock, the front desk lay in ruins before their eyes.

Behind the frosted glass partitions, the water bar and common areas resembled the chaotic wastelands of Jinxi Bei.

Feng Gao’s heart stopped. He dared not imagine what the second and third floors looked like.

“F***! My Red Label Geisha coffee beans!”

Feng Gao’s heart lurched—but so did the hearts of the dozen or so employees.

The company had a water bar, but didn’t provide drinks; employees had to bring their own.

One employee, tears streaming, sprinted toward the water bar behind the glass partition—he saw a familiar coffee bag, and a large pot of soil.

The company’s money tree was gone; inside its pot, they’d planted nothing but Red Label coffee beans.

“F***! My tea can is full of milk!” Another employee rushed to the water bar, saw his own red tea can intact, and felt a flicker of relief.

But the moment he picked it up, he felt the weight was wrong—inside, it felt like water.

Water.

It’s fine—even if someone filled it with water, the tea leaves could still be boiled into tea eggs.

When he lifted the lid and saw sweet milk inside, he was struck as if by lightning.

F***! Two thousand three hundred per jin of tea leaves—someone turned them into milk tea!

“Deng deng deng”

The man staggered backward several steps, leaning against the bar, eyes bloodshot, gasping for breath.

His monthly salary was barely over four thousand—this can of tea was meant for gifting, now it was milk tea.

“.”

Seeing the destruction on the first floor, the consultants who worked upstairs rushed up immediately.

Computer screens were neatly aligned, undamaged.

But when they glanced aside, all peripherals were either smashed on the floor or dangling midair like the hanged old man.

Potted plants, documents, water cups—all lay shattered on the ground.

“My ledgers! Wah—” The accountant returned to her office, saw some items intact, and felt a flicker of relief.

When she touched the ledgers and felt a sticky texture, her heart sank—this feel was unmistakably like what her boyfriend left behind.

She forced down nausea, determined to open the ledger and check the entries.

But as she flipped the cover, the entire ledger flipped open from her motion.

Her expression of disgust faded; she suddenly realized what the sticky substance was—her face turned deathly pale as she tried to pry it open.

The glue was filled with white adhesive!

Every single company ledger was filled with glue!

“Wah—” The accountant’s wail was deafening, her Bengkui screams echoing down the street.

“Dong—”

As the accountant and cashier sobbed uncontrollably, a muffled thud suddenly echoed through the office, shaking the entire building.

A large, broad man lay stunned in the restroom, yellow fluid seeping from his crotch.

He’d rushed to the office too quickly; his first morning piss had been held in his bladder all morning.

He walked into the bathroom, slipped on the floor, and his bladder suffered a violent impact—the valve could no longer close.

The puddle on the bathroom floor… had hand soap in it.

Super slippery.

Other colleagues, hearing the noise, instinctively rushed toward the restroom to see what happened.

Then the Magic Gourd Boys began rescuing Grandpa.

Amid a series of thuds, someone finally noticed the puddle in front of the restroom—its yellow hue looked wrong.

“F***! The hand soap smells like piss!”

“There’s piss in the water! Waaah—” A man who’d fallen face-down screamed through tears, voice hoarse, at the restroom entrance.

Feng Gao stood frozen, his steps heavy as he walked to the third-floor office.

His office door had been pried open.

“F***.” Feng Gao whispered, disbelieving, under his breath.

(End of Chapter)