"Oh no, oh no—I'm almost late! Ye Chan is going to kill me this time!"
I sprint down the street with a piece of bread in one hand and my office bag in the other. My brain refuses to work. Not even enough to realize people are staring at me like some escaped zoo animal running with stolen food.
Today isn't just any day. Today is the big meeting with Sir Chén Se and… him.
Sir might scold me lightly. But Ye Chan? Oh, no. He'll drag me through punishment worse than anything Wangji ever gave to poor Wei Ying—like making me scrub the public toilets.
At least Wangji was kind about it. Ye Chan? He's colder than ice. His punishments? Pure torture. He once made me calculate profit reports without a calculator. That's worse than writing out the 300 rules of Cloud Recesses by hand!
"Good morning, Lè, how are you?"
One of my colleagues waves cheerfully.
I try to smile while chewing my bread, almost choking. I wave back, mumbling, "Monig—" crumbs spraying everywhere, before diving into my desk chair, heart pounding.
Then I glance at my watch.
8:20 AM.
I let out a muffled scream. I'm already ten minutes late! Which means—yep—Ye Chan punishment time.
His rules are legendary.
Ten minutes late? Ten extra documents + serving him coffee.
Twenty minutes late? Twenty documents + giving him massages.
Later than that? A whole week of servitude—like his personal servant-slash-slave, working unpaid overtime until I collapse.
Which means… option two it is.
But strangely, the office is quiet. No Ye Chan. No Chén Se. My brows furrow.
I grab Xuè's arm while he's setting his documents down. "Hey, Xuè! Where are the bosses? It's already 8:20!"
He adjusts his glasses, his light-blue eyes narrowing. "Sir canceled the meeting. Just before 8:15."
"…Canceled?" I blink. "After I nearly died running here with only bread for breakfast?!"
He leans closer, lowering his voice like he's about to spill state secrets.
"Sir Ye Chan suddenly got sick. Sir Chén Se canceled everything to take care of him. But Unofficially, they 'had urgent work.' But you're my best friend, so don't repeat this to anyone . If you do, I'll be fired—with a smile. A very scary smile...of sir Chén se "
I sigh, half-puzzled, half-annoyed. Then I grin and ruffle Xuè's soft hair like he's a puppy. "Don't worry, I'm not that evil."
He smiles shyly, adjusting his glasses again. But my mind is already drifting far away.
If Ye Chan is sick… why can't his mother take care of him? Why does it have to be his father, playing both mother and father at once? And what kind of illness is it?
I need to know. Otherwise, I won't sleep tonight.
Because Ye Chan…or his whole family is nothing less mysterious than a cultivator with his clan .