Chapter 33: Mr. Mu's Fiery Temper

S.G Group.

The 88-story office building soared into the clouds, magnificently imposing and awe-inspiring.

On the very top floor, within the president’s office, a man clad in a black shirt—handsome and upright—held a golf club in his hand. His posture was lazy yet casual as he stood there. With a single stroke, he sent the ball cleanly into the hole. The two senior managers, waiting to report their work, applauded.

“Mr. Mu, your golf skills are becoming ever more impressive.”

With a sharp crack, another ball flew and struck the sales manager squarely on the forehead. Mu Sichan tossed aside the golf club, strode behind his desk, grabbed a file, and flung it at the sales manager.

“This is your quarterly report? I hired you with a high salary to work, not to flatter me.”

“If you can’t increase sales by twenty percent, you might as well pack your things and leave!”

The sales manager wiped the cold sweat from his brow, not daring to meet the volatile president’s gaze. “Yes, yes, of course.”

After reprimanding the sales manager, Mu Sichan turned to the advertising director, whose legs were visibly trembling. He pulled several photos from the desk and tossed them over.

“These are the endorsers you’ve found? All sharp chins, big eyes, and fake figures. Do you think this is some kind of plastic surgery club?”

Scattered on the floor were photos of top celebrities—faces, figures, and popularity all first-rate. The advertising director couldn’t understand why the president was still dissatisfied.

“Mr. Mu, please give me a little more time. I promise I’ll find the right spokesperson.”

Mu Sichan massaged his temples, both hands braced on the desk, his temper unchecked. “Get out, all of you.”

Once the office returned to silence, he glanced at the untouched medicine he’d thrown aside, and at his phone, lying motionless on the desk.

His long, well-defined fingers reached out, closing around the phone.

He unlocked the screen and opened WeChat.

Six hours earlier, he’d already added that woman on WeChat.

Yet now, she still wasn’t among his contacts.

Woman, playing too hard to get can have consequences!

…

After recording a cooking video at Yanran’s house, Nan Zhi was on her way back to the hospital when she received a call from Qin Yubing.

“Zhi Zhi, my mother had a little fall. I need to take her to the hospital, but she’s stubborn and refuses to go. Could you do me a favor?” Qin Yubing’s voice was gentle, tinged with a hint of pleading.

“Is Aunt Qin alright? Whatever you need, if I can help, I will.”

“My mother works as a part-time helper for an elderly lady. Tonight, the lady’s grandson is coming home for dinner, so she asked my mother to make extra dishes. But my mom’s hand is scraped, maybe even fractured. She’s afraid of losing the job and insists on going to make dinner for the old lady.”

Nan Zhi immediately understood what favor Qin Yubing was asking. She cheerfully agreed, “Send me the lady’s address, and hurry to the hospital with Aunt Qin.”

Nan Zhi had always had a strong sense of gratitude and resentment—she repaid kindness doubly. There were few people she truly cared for, and Yubing and Aunt Qin were among them.

After receiving the address from Yubing, Nan Zhi took a taxi over.

The elderly lady’s home was a traditional courtyard house, serene, unique, and elegant.

Nan Zhi met the housekeeper caring for the old lady. Upon explaining Aunt Qin’s situation, the housekeeper led her to the kitchen.

Two hours later.

On the large round table, six dishes and a soup were already set; only a fruit platter remained.

Nan Zhi wiped the sweat from her brow, about to take a short break, when steady, unyielding footsteps echoed from outside. The housekeeper’s voice soon followed, “Young Master, you’re home.”