5:29:59 PM.
Su Xiaolan's gaze locked onto the clock in the bottom-right corner of her computer screen like a precision radar. Her fingers hovered over a custom hotkey—one that instantly closed all work windows and locked the computer.
5:30:00 PM.
Click! A crisp keystroke. The screen went dark. In a flash, Su Xiaolan grabbed her already-packed tote bag and sprang from her desk like a nimble rabbit, heading straight for the elevator.
"Xiaolan! Wait!" Her coworker Lin Xiaomei grabbed the hem of her shirt, face full of disbelief and anxiety. "You're just leaving? What about the market analysis draft Mr. Li urgently requested? Is it done?"
Su Xiaolan blinked her naturally innocent-looking big eyes and replied matter-of-factly, "The draft? Isn't it due tomorrow at noon? It's my off-work time now, Xiaomei-jie."
"Well, yes, but…" Lin Xiaomei lowered her voice, glancing nervously at the heavy wooden door of the CEO's office. Around them, colleagues were still typing furiously and answering calls. "But look—Mr. Li hasn't left yet! Secretary Wang is still here. No one dares move. If you're the first to leave, won't it be…" Too conspicuous? She didn't finish, but the meaning was clear.
Su Xiaolan followed her gaze. Yep, the CEO's supposedly bulletproof door was shut tight, radiating a "do not disturb" aura. The office was brightly lit, the air thick with caffeine and the silent suffering of overtime warriors. She could even feel a few subtle glances on her—curious, maybe even… admiring?
"Xiaomei-jie," Su Xiaolan patted her hand and smiled sweetly, utterly guilt-free. "The Labor Standards Act says eight hours a day. I clocked in at 8:59:59 AM, and now it's 5:30:01 PM. Perfect timing. Mr. Li pays me for eight hours—not my whole life! I'll work hard tomorrow. Bye!"
She slipped free, practically skipping toward the elevator. As the doors closed behind her, she thought she heard someone gasp.
Whew—
Stepping out of the towering Li Group headquarters, the cool evening breeze kissed her face. Su Xiaolan took a deep breath, feeling alive again.
Overtime? Not in her dictionary.
Her motto: If you can lie down, don't sit. If you can leave on time, don't waste a second.
Life is short. Enjoy it while you can (as a salted fish).
As for the CEO Li Chenyan, whose aura supposedly stretched 2.8 meters and could freeze people with a glance?
Su Xiaolan shivered. Okay, she admitted—during her first interview with the legendary business tyrant, her legs went weak for three whole minutes. That face was a divine masterpiece: sharp, handsome, and way too good-looking. But the chill he radiated could power central air conditioning. Her only thought at the time: I'm doomed. My dream of lying flat is over.
But fate had other plans.
Thanks to her fluent foreign language skills and a resume that screamed "harmless (salted fish)," she was hired as the assistant to the assistant of the CEO's office—basically, the errand girl. The tasks were trivial, low in technical demand, and best of all—her direct supervisor was Secretary Wang. The mighty CEO seemed completely unaware of her existence.
It was paradise.
Humming happily, Su Xiaolan headed for the subway. No direct contact with the boss, tasks done on time, and a decent salary. It was the perfect job: good pay, light workload (relatively), and close to home (thanks to the subway).
Promotion? Raise? Climbing the corporate ladder?
No thanks. She just wanted to lie in her comfort zone forever, a happy salted fish nourished by her paycheck (and occasional fantasies of handsome men).
Li Group Headquarters, CEO's Office.
Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the city sparkled. Inside, only a desk lamp cast a cold glow.
Li Chenyan stood by the window, his tall figure reflected faintly in the glass. He held a glass of whiskey, ice clinking softly.
A knock on the door.
"Come in." His deep voice held no warmth.
Secretary Wang Jing, a sharp and capable woman in her forties, entered with a document. Her expression was… odd.
"Mr. Li, here's the supplemental agreement from Legal regarding the acquisition case." She placed it on the desk.
Li Chenyan turned but didn't immediately look at the document. His gaze landed on Wang Jing. "Something else?"
Wang Jing hesitated, then reported truthfully, "Well… at exactly 5:30 PM, Assistant Su Xiaolan from the CEO's office was the first to leave." She paused. "Very… punctual."
The air froze.
Wang Jing's heart raced. Mr. Li hated laziness and lack of ambition. Though Su Xiaolan had never made major mistakes, her "on-the-dot departure" was glaring in this overtime-heavy company.
Unexpectedly, the corner of Li Chenyan's icy face… twitched upward? So fast Wang Jing thought she imagined it.
"Su Xiaolan…" he murmured, tasting the name like a rare word. He recalled her photo in HR files—smiling with crescent eyes, like a sunbathing cat.
"Her tasks were completed on time?"
"Yes, Mr. Li. All assigned work was done without delay."
"Hmm." He responded lightly, picked up the document, as if the conversation was a mere footnote. "Tell Finance: starting this month, add a 'Special Talent Punctuality Bonus' to Assistant Su's salary account. Amount… 20% of her base salary. From my personal account."
Wang Jing: "...???"
She thought her ears were malfunctioning. Special talent? Punctuality bonus?! From the CEO's personal account?
"Mr. Li… may I ask why?"
Li Chenyan, already reading the document, replied calmly—but his words were thunderous:
"To reward her… for setting an example. Reminding all employees of the importance of efficiency. Leaving on time deserves encouragement."
Wang Jing was stunned, her mind in chaos.
Setting an example? Efficiency? Encouragement???
Was this really the same workaholic CEO she knew?
Who was this Su Xiaolan?
Meanwhile, comfortably sprawled on her couch, happily binge-watching dramas and munching chips, Su Xiaolan sneezed.
"Someone talking about me?" she muttered, rubbing her nose—completely unaware that her salted fish lifestyle was about to be swept up in a storm of affection (and sugar).
She also didn't know that tomorrow morning, when she clocked in as usual, a top-tier ergonomic massage chair would mysteriously appear at her desk.