FOBTS CH26

Chapter 26: The Kindhearted Little Secretary

Starting over, Song Ruochen began dancing again.

Recalling the previous dance steps, he twirled and leaped with the music, gradually losing himself in the rhythm.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

He hadn’t taught him to leap just now.

So Song, the self-proclaimed dance king, was already improvising?

“System, I think us college students really have strong learning abilities,” Song Ruochen said. “I stepped on him ten times earlier, but this time, I only stepped on him seven times.”

[Do it again! This time, you lead him, haha!]

“Ugh…” This time, Song Ruochen accidentally got stepped on by Jian Yuheng.

“Second Young Master,” Song Ruochen commented, “Your dance skills still have room for improvement.”

Jian Yuheng: “-皿-“

“And you?” Jian Yuheng asked, “Still have room to get worse?”

“There’s always QQ Space.” Song Ruochen began spouting nonsense.

Jian Yuheng’s mouth twitched slightly, but he gently wrapped an arm around Song Ruochen’s waist and accompanied him through the rest of the dance.

Song Ruochen’s eyelashes were quite long, their ends not curling up but drooping slightly, giving him naturally cool-looking eyes.

That coolness, however, was mostly felt by those Song Ruochen had tormented.

Jian Yuheng thought to himself.

Though not always. Jian Yuheng glanced at Meng Yumian, dressed in a green ghillie suit not far away. That person likely felt more heated than cool at the moment.

As the song neared its end, Jian Yuheng and Song Ruochen stopped in the center of the dance floor.

Surely this little secretary wasn’t planning to keep dancing?

Dancing was a form of exercise after all, and he did enjoy working out, so another dance wouldn’t be—

Song Ruochen bolted. He pulled out his phone, opened an app, and began tapping furiously.

Jian Yuheng: “?”

Thirty seconds later, Song Ruochen’s face was filled with an expression of disbelief and fury.

Ding.

Jian Yuheng, who had just picked up a glass of fruit wine, watched as Song Ruochen held his phone, moved to another spot near the dance floor, and started frantically tapping the screen again.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

[Go, go, go! Aim for the front row!]

“Who on earth is competing with me for tickets!” Song Ruochen grumbled, furiously jabbing at his phone. “The internet here doesn’t seem great either.”

[Try moving to the window.]

Ding.

Jian Yuheng watched as Song Ruochen dashed to the window, stuck his phone out, and resumed his frantic tapping.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

“Second Young Master,” Assistant Gong asked, “Why are you standing in the middle of the dance floor smiling like that?”

“…Nothing.” Jian Yuheng replied.

Apparently, the signal near the window was better. Leaning against the windowsill, Song Ruochen looked quite satisfied.

[Wow, front-row VIP! Little Grape, you’re so good to me.]

[I’ll cough up 20 minutes of private funds for you.]

“3,999 yuan. That’s pretty expensive,” Song Ruochen muttered as he walked back. “Does the alpha sit on my lap while singing?”

Jian Yuheng, passing by him, felt his eyelid twitch.

What alpha? Sitting on someone’s lap to sing?

“Second Young Master,” Assistant Gong asked, “Why is the corner of your mouth drooping?”

“Assistant Gong,” Jian Yuheng snapped, “Are you a facial expression reporter? Stop giving live updates on my expressions.”

“Understood, Second Young Master,” Assistant Gong replied.

Someone who had successfully snagged tickets walked with a light, floating step.

Song Ruochen “floated” back to Meng Yumian’s side, just as Meng Yumian was wrapping up a conversation with the museum director.

“Secretary Song,” Meng Yumian said, “The director says the only time available this month for a gallery exhibition is this Sunday. But there are only a few days left—can I get the venue ready in time?”

“It’s doable,” Song Ruochen replied.

“Secretary Song, I… sometimes trust you,” Meng Yumian said. “Can you really prepare the venue on time, or are we hiring people to do it?”

“I’ll recruit some people for you,” Song Ruochen said.

It just so happened that at the airport recently, he had added the WeChat of a helpful university student who had assisted with pushing a wheelchair—

[Song Ruochen]: [Sharing internal internship opportunity: Certificate provided, bonus points for Xiaoshi Group internships (round-trip transportation included).]

[Gong Zuo]: I’m in! I’m in!

[Gong Zuo]: Are there still spots available?

[Song Ruochen]: There are currently three, but I can fight for one more for you.

[Song Ruochen]: Keep it down. Don’t spread the word.

[Gong Zuo]: Thank you so much!

“All done, Young Master Meng,” Song Ruochen said. “Recruited the people.”

Corporate slaves love to slack off; college students are the real hard workers.

“Alright, as long as there’s someone to help clean up,” the museum director said. “Make sure to do proper promotion. After all, no matter how much you enjoy solitary admiration, it can’t compare to having an audience.”

“Understood,” Song Ruochen replied.

As the ball was nearing its end, he pushed Meng Yumian out.

“Secretary Song,” Meng Yumian asked, “How should we promote it? My life goal is for my works to be known alongside myself.”

“Well, that’s already halfway achieved,” Song Ruochen said.

Meng Yumian: “?”

Meng Yumian was overjoyed. “Which painting? Someone understands me?”

Meng Yumian trended on social media—

It was a clip of donors at a charity ball posing for a group photo. A green patch on the right side of the screen was circled.

Bullet comments:

[What’s the special meaning of putting a potted plant in the group photo?]

[Look closely; this potted plant can move.]

[Abstract art. This is abstract art.]

[I looked it up. This fuzzy green thing is Meng Yumian, a painter.]

“Look on the bright side, fuzz—I mean, Young Master Meng,” Song Ruochen said. “Your work can now ‘ride on the coattails of the parent.’”

Meng Yumian: “…”

*

In just one evening, Song Ruochen resolved Meng Yumian’s embarrassment and boosted his visibility.

After taking a day off, he returned to work at Xiaoshi Group the next day.

The media department was preparing to recruit a new batch of collaboration streamers, organizing interviews, and several departments were busy.

So, as he tapped away at his computer, letting his mind wander, Gong Huo appeared at his office door.

“Secretary Song, come help,” Assistant Gong said.

Song Ruochen politely raised his hand, pointing to the sign on the office door:

No entry for colleagues. Improper behavior will be rebuked.

Assistant Gong: “…”

“Was that necessary, Song Ruochen?” Assistant Gong fumed. “How many times have I called you to do work when passing by?”

“That’s enough,” came Jian Yuheng’s voice.

“Secretary Song,” Jian Yuheng said, “The interviews are about to start. Go downstairs and wait. Help me out later.”

“Second Young Master, you must be joking,” Song Ruochen said. “I still have three emails to reply to.”

Jian Yuheng: “The main tasks are arranging the macarons and snacks, distributing candy to the interviewers, and pouring juice.”

“I’d be honored to ease Second Young Master’s burden.” Song Ruochen left.

If he were late, there wouldn’t be any snacks left—better hurry.

He pressed the elevator button and went downstairs.

[Little Grape, I scanned again today. It still shows we have 1.5 users.]

“Ridiculous. How could there be 0.5 of a person?” Song Ruochen said.

[Exactly! Half a person—just the thought is hilarious, haha.]

“Forget about that half. As long as the features work fine,” Song Ruochen said.

[Let me quickly check if there’s a new half-human species on this planet.]

[Scanning from Antarctica—]

[Scan complete. No new species detected.]

[By the way, Little Grape, I updated a new gadget for you. Want to buy it?]

“What is it?” Song Ruochen asked.

[40 minutes of rewind coin spent.]

[Hold out your hand.]

Song Ruochen extended his palm. A shiny coin appeared in his hand, and at the same time, the system sent him a message—

[Item Name: Rewind Silly Coin]
[Function: Rewind the time of a single inanimate object. Once the rewind is complete, the object returns to the normal timeline.]
[Inspiration for Name: It’s mostly useless, inaccurate, and just a toy—only fools would buy it.]
[Note: Only one can be exchanged per week.]

“Who says it’s useless?!” Song Ruochen was delighted. “Now I can refill my favorite milk tea for free!”

[See? I had a feeling it’d be useful for you, so I applied for it.]

“Let’s go. Time to—uh, work.” Song Ruochen pushed open the interview hall door.

The streamers here to interview for Xiaoshi Internet Group’s media division were already seated, chatting in the hall.

When Song Ruochen entered, the chatter paused, and several pairs of eyes turned to him.

“Hi there,” someone greeted. “What kind of streamer are you?”

“I…” Song Ruochen hesitated.

Oh no, he forgot to wear his work uniform.

Since there were no formal events today, he was dressed in a light brown sweater picked out by Da Zao, with a round little tail on the back.

“He must be a beauty streamer,” someone said. “You’re so pretty, and you look kind of familiar.”

“Actually, I’m a comedy streamer,” Song Ruochen said.

“I knew it!” someone exclaimed. “Beauty streamers are always good conversationalists. But you seem so cold—alphas probably don’t like you, right?”

“Our Ling Xing is great at chatting,” one of the top streamer’s followers said.

“What’s that? Do alphas’ affections for you have to be begged for?” Song Ruochen retorted. “Doesn’t kneeling during your streams get tiring?”

Ling Xing: “…”

It was a melodramatic story, filled with characters and drama—understandable. Song Ruochen was kind.

Ignoring them, he got up to find the macarons Jian Yuheng had mentioned. He could take one, eat most of it, and then use the rewind silly coin to restore it.

Effectively, he’d have eaten two.

“Who even likes you? Your words are so unpleasant!” Ling Xing shouted. “Do you think just getting into the interview means Xiaoshi will actually pick you for training?”

“Secretary Song.” A voice came from the door.

Jian Yuheng walked in, followed by Assistant Gong carrying a stack of documents.

“I found your work badge in the restaurant,” Jian Yuheng said. “Can you explain why it was on top of the ice cream machine?”

Song Ruochen: “…”

Uh.

In the morning, he had sneaked two ice creams during work.

“Wear it properly.” Jian Yuheng raised his hand and hung the badge back around his neck. His fingertip brushed against Song Ruochen’s hair and cheek. “Lose it again and see what happens.”

“Second Young Master,” Assistant Gong glanced at the wall clock. “It’s 2 PM. I need to start the interviews.”

Jian Yuheng: “Alright.”

The group of streamers clustered together was stunned.

This young, pretty omega was the secretary to the president of Xiaoshi Group?

Ling Xing felt uneasy, worried that Song Ruochen would target him during the interview.

This interview was to select top streamers for long-term collaboration with Xiaoshi Group, which was offering substantial resources. The interview panel consisted of six people, including Song Ruochen, and each streamer had a 50-minute slot.

Jian Yuheng glanced at the omega nearby. When he entered, he had overheard someone giving Song Ruochen trouble.

The little secretary didn’t seem to mind much. When it was Ling Xing’s turn, Song Ruochen only asked a few simple, generic questions he had found online, not making things difficult at all.

Jian Yuheng smiled slightly. Despite the commotion, Secretary Song was pure at heart.

Just as he was thinking this, he saw Song Ruochen sneakily take a bite of a macaron.

Song Ruochen: “:D”

Alright, time to restore the snack.

Perfect timing to test the little toy the system had given him: the rollback silly coin.

“I’d like to ask, if you join Xiaoshi, what can you bring to the company?” Assistant Gong’s turn to ask questions came.

Ding.

Jian Yuheng: “?”

Huh?

What?

He waited a few seconds but saw no rewind. Confused, he turned to look at Song Ruochen.

Song Ruochen seemed shocked, glancing at his hand, the macaron, and then the wall.

What’s going on? The rewind didn’t work?

No problem, just try again.

[Oh no, our coin!]

Song Ruochen was dumbfounded. He had intended to toss the coin at the macaron, but his hand slipped, and it hit the wall instead.

Thankfully, it was just a wall, so there was no visible damage, and he didn’t need to fix anything.

[Waaah, I’ll exchange another one for you next week.]
[We can play again next week!]

Song Ruochen: “It’s fine, it’s fine.”

The fun was over; time to focus on finishing the interview.

Assistant Gong had prepared 15 questions, estimating that finishing them would take until 4 PM.

Finally, Ling Xing stammered through the last question.

Assistant Gong: “Alright, your interview is…?”

Why was it only 3:30?

That wouldn’t do; the time slot wasn’t full yet. He needed to ask more questions. But Assistant Gong had run out of ideas.

He started winging it: “Uh… do you like Xiaoshi? How should Xiaoshi make its first billion?”

Then he began throwing in random tasks: “If you were to design a reception plan for the luxury poolside CEO team, how would you do it?”

Ling Xing: “…”

Ling Xing felt like he was being interrogated for an eternity.

Jian Yuheng couldn’t sit still anymore. He glanced at the wall clock—indeed, it wasn’t 4 PM yet.

Then he looked at Assistant Gong, who seemed like he was about to pass out from asking questions.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

If he had known, he would’ve brought his phone. This was so boring.

He glanced at Song Ruochen, who was squirming in his seat, looking like he was sitting on pins and needles.

[The silly coin hit the clock! The clock’s time rolled back 40 minutes!]

Song Ruochen: “…”

Jian Yuheng rubbed his forehead.

He really wanted to clock out.

Author’s Note:

Secretary Song spared no one, not even himself. (.)