Chapter 16

But!!! There's another chapter tonight!!!!

Is Jiangshan very well-behaved? (winks~~~)

☆ Chapter 17: Perfect Score

Should he blame his Chinese teacher for dying too early? What does "I want to use" even mean?

Ji Season stared at the phone in his hand like it was a monster, while Producer Seeing Shentu Mo had already hung up.

"What's wrong?" Qin Zhixiu finished breakfast and was heading upstairs when he noticed Ji Season's odd expression and asked casually. Only a few people knew the apartment's phone number, and it was generally used only for internal service calls.

"Producer Shentu said… he wants to use…"

"Use what?"

"Use… that woman." Ji Season stared blankly, raising a hand to point out the window.

"Oh." Probably wants her to give a massage. "She's good at it."

Huh? "What?" Ji Season realized his usually self-proclaimed brilliant mind was failing him.

He Lele walked in just then. She wondered why, if the garage was right below on the first floor, they didn't just connect it directly with an elevator—why force you to go through the first floor to get upstairs?

"Mr. Ji, your car has been cleaned and parked in the garage. Here are your keys."

On the highway, a flashy white Lamborghini sped forward; inside, a young man and woman rode in silence, the atmosphere eerie.

Ji Season adjusted the rearview mirror to check himself—still so handsome! Still so handsome, so why was this woman so repelled by him? Had she once been dumped by him? He had no memory of it! He'd never touched such plain, dull women before!

He'd kindly offered to give her a ride to work, and she refused, saying she had a driver's license. What the hell! Did she think all women who rode in men's cars did so because they couldn't drive? Then Qin the kid urgently took the apartment's spare car, and only then did this woman get in with a blank expression. Could he kick her out?

At this moment, He Lele truly wished Ji Season would just kick her out of the car—if she didn't die, getting it classified as a workplace injury and lying in the hospital for three months would be perfect.

She never imagined… she'd have to be responsible for "delivering takeout"? She thought… He Lele shook her head, shaking the word "thought" out of her mind—henceforth, she'd lock away the phrase "I thought" completely.

She remembered how she'd struggled a moment ago—

"Mr. Producer Shentu wants me to go to his office? But Mr. Ruan Lin is still in the apartment, his floor needs cleaning too, and I don't know when the gentleman on the sixth floor will return—if I leave…"

"First come, first served." That playboy-type man told her.

Mr. Producer Shentu… after these past few days, she'd nearly forgotten— that insane night, that version of herself that wasn't her…

"Shall I take you up?" After parking, Ji Season asked He Lele.

"N-No, thank you." He Lele quickly shook her head and waved her hands. Walking with a guy who looked like a public heartthrob in the outside world was suicide for her.

"…?" Was she really waving both hands like that? Was it really that humiliating to walk with him? His wounded pride made Ji the Young Master sulky; he turned toward the elevator, swiped his work badge, and stepped into the high-floor exclusive elevator.

He Lele turned and entered the regular elevator, where the receptionist guided her to Producer Seeing Shentu Mo's office.

The office was arranged as simply and elegantly as Producer Seeing Shentu Mo's apartment—minimal decoration, but taste evident in every detail.

"Mr. Producer Shentu." He Lele whispered.

Producer Seeing Shentu Mo looked up from his documents; his deep gaze refracted through his transparent lenses with unusual scrutiny.

After a long silence, "Sit down for a moment. I have a meeting."

He Lele could only sit nervously on the sofa nearby—and she sat there for nearly an hour.

When Producer Seeing Shentu Mo returned, his secretary immediately brought in a lunch box; from the packaging, it looked like Japanese cuisine. Producer Seeing Shentu Mo ate while reading documents; He Lele checked her phone for the time, daring not to speak. The last lesson had been enough—even if she had ten more courage, she wouldn't dare delay or interrupt his meal!

"Xiao Lin, take the lunch box out."

"…." He Lele's heart trembled; her hands on her knees clenched involuntarily.

Producer Seeing Shentu Mo set down his documents, removed his glasses, leaned back in his chair, and gazed indifferently at He Lele. A plain T-shirt, plain light-blue jeans—not uncool, but definitely not trendy; on the street, she'd vanish instantly.

Aesthetic sense rated eight out of ten, yet dressed like this?

Graduated in accounting, yet became an apartment manager?

The documents on his desk were her personal file and test results from her application; from them, this girl had many contradictions—but those three test scores alone were enough to make her stand out among all applicants.

Responsibility: perfect score.

Desire to perform: zero.

Curiosity: one point.

No one's curiosity in reality could reach zero—so this girl's score was perfect. A girl perfectly suited to be a… "bedroom servant."

"Come here," Producer Seeing Shentu Mo unfastened his tie and tossed it casually onto the desk.

He Lele stood stiffly and walked toward Producer Seeing Shentu Mo by the window.