Chapter 9 Yes, Boss

Half an hour later, Chen Aijia emerged from the lounge, her eyes red as a rabbit’s, but alight with excitement, clutching a freshly bound employee contract in her hand.

It was a contract merged from two into one—a privilege afforded to no one else in the entire company but Yang Changfeng, a special favor of sorts from Chen Aijia.

At least, that’s how Yang Changfeng saw it.

“Thank you, really, I appreciate it,” Yang Changfeng said, feigning gratitude.

Chen Aijia nearly lost her composure again. No, stay calm, she told herself. As long as he signed this contract, he’d be finished! If she didn’t make his life miserable, it would be a miracle.

Feeling secretly triumphant, Chen Aijia didn’t bother bickering with Yang Changfeng; she was certain she had him right where she wanted him. The Security Department—did he really think it was some easy place to be?

Anya came out slowly, feeling a twinge of sympathy for Yang Changfeng now. She knew all too well what kind of people haunted the Security Department—it was the company’s notorious disaster zone. Chen Aijia had long wanted to clean house there, but hadn’t made a move yet because the timing wasn’t right. If Yang Changfeng were sent in now, it was obvious the people there would see him as Chen Aijia’s plant, a spy sent to keep them in line. They’d be after him in no time.

Facing those thugs with underworld connections, Yang wouldn’t last three days—he’d probably end up chopped into pieces and tossed out to sea to feed the fish. That was a bit much, perhaps.

Anya had tried to persuade Chen Aijia, but she wouldn’t listen. Partly it was because of her grudge against Yang, but also, she didn’t really think the Security Department had the guts to openly harm someone sent by her.

Yang Changfeng read through the contract slowly. He had to admit, it was the very definition of an oppressive contract. According to its terms, he was to take orders from no one but the boss—Chen Aijia herself. Moreover, he was required to obey; if Chen Aijia gave a reasonable instruction, Yang Changfeng could not refuse. The moment he did, he’d be out—never to return.

Yang Changfeng found it odd.

Not because the terms were so excessive, but because he sensed, between the lines, some hidden intention on Chen Aijia’s part. It was as though she wanted him to carry out some special mission, yet wouldn’t say so directly. This implied she had such a need, and required someone to play the role of her enforcer. His appearance had simply caused her to reveal this intention unconsciously—it was not that she had made a plan specifically for him.

Was there a problem with the Security Department?

Yang Changfeng kept his expression neutral; he had no desire to let Chen Aijia see through him just yet.

Sometimes, playing the fool can be the wisest move.

This game is quite interesting—I like it.

With a flourish, Yang Changfeng signed his name on the contract, the calligraphy bold and elegant.

Chen Aijia curled her lip—what good was beautiful handwriting if you were broke?

Holding the contract, Chen Aijia was filled with satisfaction. She could already picture Yang Changfeng being tormented into utter defeat, slinking away from the company, never to return.

Pathetic! she thought with a touch of regret. With that little strength, he was simply overestimating himself!

Suddenly, a hand appeared before her.

Startled from her daydream, Chen Aijia took a half-step back, glaring warily at Yang Changfeng. “What do you want? What are you up to?”

Yang Changfeng rubbed his fingers together. “I want an advance on my salary. If not, I’m quitting right now.”

“I’ll dock your pay!” Chen Aijia snapped, hiding the contract behind her back in a show of threat. “I know you’re broke, but if I get the relevant departments involved, you’ll never breathe free air again.”

Yang Changfeng grinned, not the least bit intimidated. “Go right ahead. In fact, I’d love for more people to know that the famous Boss Chen is so hard on her own man—making him work as a security guard is one thing, but refusing to advance him even a bit of his salary? I don’t mind, but I bet the tabloid reporters would be very interested. They’d make me famous. I should thank you.”

Chen Aijia’s face darkened; for the first time, she doubted whether this contract could actually bind Yang Changfeng.

Anya hurried to intervene. “Give it to him. How much do you want?”

She shot Chen Aijia a meaningful look. The future is long, and now the man is in your hands—you can squeeze or flatten him however you like later.

If money can solve the problem, it’s not really a problem, right?

“How much do you want?” Chen Aijia’s chest heaved with frustration. Everything had been going according to her plan, so why did it seem that his arrogance was growing instead of diminishing?

Yang Changfeng considered for a moment before replying, “You’re not short on money. Why not advance me half a year’s salary?”

So he intended to stick around at least six months?

Chen Aijia felt a small surge of satisfaction, quickly followed by even more annoyance.

Since when did such a minor victory make her so excited?

“I’ll give you a year’s!” Chen Aijia retorted. She didn’t hand him a bank card, though there was one right there in her desk drawer. Instead, she fetched fifteen neat stacks of brand-new cash from the very back of the drawer, carried them over, and dropped them on the coffee table. Taking a deep breath, she said coolly, “Now, is there anything else?”

Yang Changfeng didn’t answer. Like a miser, he counted the bills one by one—one hundred and fifty thousand, not a note missing.

Finally reassured, he stood and looked around for something to carry the money in.

Anya quickly found a small bag for him—one that Chen Aijia had once used, a luxury brand worth tens of thousands. But it was last year’s style, and Chen Aijia had tossed it aside, never to use it again.

Chen Aijia seethed with anger. The audacity of that bastard, acting as if he belonged here!

Yang Changfeng complimented Anya, “Smart move. You’ll go far, honestly!”

Anya blushed and looked away. Do I know you that well? Don’t you realize I just want you gone as soon as possible?

Once he’d packed the money, Yang Changfeng patted the bag for reassurance and finally relaxed.

Xu Jie’er seemed to be in dire need of money. With this one hundred and fifty thousand, plus what he’d given her before, it should be enough for her to get by for a while. That thought pleased him.

“So, may I go to work now—Security Guard?” Chen Aijia’s patience had reached its breaking point. Her teeth ground audibly as she enunciated the word “security” with extra emphasis.

A reminder of their difference in status, perhaps?

Yang Changfeng smiled faintly to himself. For a king of soldiers, such petty mockery was nothing.

A sudden pang of melancholy struck him. Both of them were young women, yet Chen Aijia could toss away hundreds of thousands as though she were throwing scraps to a beggar, while Xu Jie’er…

Abruptly losing interest, Yang Changfeng lazily raised his hand in an American-style salute. “Yes, boss!”