Chapter 9: 009(2)
In the penthouse of Jinbiao Mingting,
The new assistant, Su Wan, had added three extra grams of salt to the salad.
Meng Jiang put down her phone and glanced at the young woman, who fidgeted, hiding the camera behind her back.
Meng Jiang had noticed the silver camera earlier, giving her a chance.
The assistant contract clearly stated no unauthorized disclosure of the artist’s whereabouts or private photos.
Yet, within a day, the new assistant had already slipped up twice.
Clearly, the pre-job training was inadequate, but Chen Cheng wasn’t entirely to blame. Time was tight, and this was the third assistant this week.
Normally, Meng Jiang would give a new assistant a few days to prove themselves, but she was in a bad mood today.
She went to the water dispenser and poured a glass of water.
Returning to the dining table, she held a measuring cup in her other hand.
She carefully measured out one milliliter of water and added it to the salad to dilute the salt.
Seeing this, Su Wan suddenly remembered the specific salt requirement in the lunch instructions Meng Jiang had given her an hour ago.
But she’d been too busy trying to sneak a photo of Meng Jiang without makeup, not paying attention to the exact amount. She’d given the chef a random number, assuming Meng Jiang wouldn’t notice. But…
Her eyes reddening, Su Wan stammered, “Sister, it’s my fault. I misremembered the amount. Please deduct it from my salary…”
Meng Jiang glanced at her, a smile playing on her lips: “It’s okay. You don’t have to come in tomorrow.”
After Su Wan left, Meng Jiang’s frustration lingered. She opened a bottle of Lafite from the wine cabinet.
Walking to the window, she took a large gulp.
Just then, her phone rang.
“You logged into your Weibo alt account?”
“And you’re using your endorsed lipstick brand logo as your profile picture?”
It was Chen Cheng. Meng Jiang tapped the bottle, admitting, “Not only did I log in, but I also used that profile picture to vote in a poll about relationship problems for a young author.”
“Miss Meng,”
“Movie Queen Meng,”
“Goddess Meng…”
Chen Cheng wished she could fly back from Venice and shake Meng Jiang. “Do you even realize what you’re doing?”
“Yes,” Meng Jiang said. “Sister Chen, do you know who she is?”
“Who?” Chen Cheng had a bad feeling.
“Qi SiJia,” Meng Jiang said.
“Qi… Qi… Qi…” Chen Cheng stammered, “Your…”
Meng Jiang said, “Miss Q.”
Chen Cheng was silent for a long time, then sighed, “I remember you had a five-year no-dating agreement with CEO Shen…”
Meng Jiang tilted the wine bottle, a drop of wine spilling onto the beige carpet.
“Didn’t that woman, Shen TuNan, get sent to Italy to ‘dig for coal’? Why bring her up?” Meng Jiang scoffed, rolling up the stained carpet, planning to replace it tomorrow.
Her voice, naturally husky and alluring, carried a hint of sweetness: “Two months left, and my five-year contract with Shen TuNan is over. I’ve paid my dues, given her enough from the Meng family over the years.”
Chen Cheng knew what Meng Jiang meant by “enough,” but Shen TuNan wasn’t someone to be trifled with.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
Meng Jiang: “Why should I be?”
Chen Cheng was speechless, recalling Meng Jiang’s drunken confession last year: “What do you see in her? Status? Money?”
“You said she’s a player, constantly changing girlfriends. And you haven’t seen her in years. She’s a recluse, it’s normal if she’s gained weight, has acne, and looks completely different. What if your alt account is exposed, and she clings to you or creates drama?”
Slightly annoyed by Chen Cheng’s words, Meng Jiang found an old photo of Qi SiJia and sent it.
After a long while, Chen Cheng murmured, “She’s quite attractive… no wonder… no wonder she’s a player.”
For Chen Cheng to acknowledge someone’s attractiveness spoke volumes.
Everyone knew how beautiful Qi SiJia was, except Qi SiJia herself.
Meng Jiang narrowed her eyes, looking at the city lights outside, reflecting on her actions.
She didn’t know what she was doing either.
Reconciliation? Judging by how difficult it was to even add her on WeChat, she doubted the ice queen would agree.
Recalling Qi SiJia’s calm breakup with the heartbroken Shu Ran yesterday, Meng Jiang’s initial annoyance turned into amusement.
After all these years, Qi SiJia hadn’t changed a bit. Her views on love were stubborn, conservative, almost puritanical.
Loyal during a relationship, quick to move on after a breakup, never looking back.
Five years, countless relationships, labeled a player, yet she hadn’t even held hands with any of her exes. Meng Jiang thought Qi SiJia’s so-called exes were far more pathetic than herself.
She found it amusing. At least she didn’t have to worry about Qi SiJia being truly loved or “defiled” by someone else.
After all, only she appreciated the unique charm of such a peculiar woman.
Her mood lightening, Meng Jiang changed the subject: “I fired your new assistant.”
Chen Cheng sighed, exasperated: “What did she do this time?”
“Took unauthorized photos.”
“Finding a replacement on short notice might lead to the same problem,” Chen Cheng said gravely.
Meng Jiang had a dedicated assistant who was currently on leave. Chen Cheng, being on vacation, couldn’t personally handle the hiring process and didn’t trust agencies with such a crucial role.
Inadequate training often led to problems with assistants.
“I’ll manage on my own for now.” Meng Jiang was on semi-vacation, only participating in the weekly Lantai variety show. She still had her driver, who could handle many tasks.
Meals were simple, takeout would suffice. She didn’t need constant assistance.
Chen Cheng was still worried: “Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Yes.”
After the beginning of winter, the weather turned colder. Though it hadn’t snowed yet, the temperature difference between day and night was significant.
Qi SiJia hadn’t been out at 6 AM in a long time.
The next day, as she descended the stairs from the fifth floor, a cold draft hit her, dislodging her hair tie.
The hair tie fell onto the stairs. Her long hair cascaded down. Qi SiJia searched for it.
Bending down, she felt the wind threatening to pull off her mask.
Almost instinctively, she pulled her backpack forward, retrieved a blue and white scarf, and wrapped it twice around her neck, covering her ears, cheeks, and hair, finally feeling some relief.
The stairwell was old and dirty.
But with the impending demolition, Qi SiJia didn’t bother cleaning it.
She’d owned this building for years, even hiring someone for renovations.
But no amount of maintenance could hide the age of the five small buildings.
No elevators could be installed, and most of the facilities were damaged.
And because of the cheap rent, the occupancy rate was high, accelerating the wear and tear on the common areas.
Only after the demolition plans were announced six months ago did tenants start moving out, leaving many apartments vacant.
The condition had improved slightly, but with demolition looming, further repairs were pointless.
Cleaning services used to be regular, but with the recent tenant turnover, the stairwell was inevitably dirty. Qi SiJia stepped on several discarded pieces of packing tape.
Finding a secluded corner near the entrance, she squatted down and peeled the tape off her shoes.
“Zhang Defa, have you heard? The development area is being demolished. The landlord wants us to move out quickly.”
Two thin, middle-aged men in yellow hard hats approached.
They seemed to have just finished work, their eyes puffy, yawning repeatedly. The taller man took out a cigarette, lit it, and offered it to the shorter man.
The shorter man took a drag, “Who would stay here if they could afford to move?”
The taller man sighed in agreement. The faint morning light illuminated the lines etched on his face by years of hardship: “Xiao Lian’s mom asked around a few days ago. A two-bedroom apartment like this…”
He held up ten fingers: “At least a thousand yuan.”
“Whoa, highway robbery.”
The two men exchanged glances, seeing the shared struggle in each other’s eyes. Reaching the stairwell, the shorter man looked at his home of many years, pulling out his cigarette, muttering, “If only the landlord could give us until the end of the year. Where can we find a place for 300 yuan a month before the new year?”
The taller man remained silent.
They smoked in silence, their faces etched with worry, passing by Qi SiJia.
They didn’t even glance at her.
Qi SiJia, in her black mask and protective glasses, looked out of place. After they left, Qi SiJia, lost in thought, texted Qi Jun, asking about the demolition.
An hour later, Qi Jun’s assistant replied: [Nothing can be done.]
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