The faint sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the entryway, sounding particularly clear in the quiet evening.
Su Yuqing pushed the door open, carrying the exhaustion of the outside world—a mix of urban clamor and the stifling air of a crowded subway.
She bent down to change out of her low-heeled leather shoes, which had rubbed her heels raw.
Only a single warm yellow floor lamp was lit in the living room, shrouding most of the area in a comfortable gloom that merged with the deepening twilight outside.
“You’re back, meow?”
A lazy, drawn-out voice drifted from the sofa, carrying a feline tone that sat somewhere between concern and interrogation.
Kasahana Chiai was like a truly satiated cat, curled up in the softest corner of the sofa.
Wrapped in a thick, fleecy blanket, she only revealed her messy blonde hair and those glazed eyes that shone with startling brightness even in the dim light.
She was mindlessly clicking the TV remote, the flickering light and shadows dancing across her face.
“Yeah, I’m back,” Su Yuqing replied, her voice tinged with unmistakable weariness.
She placed her commuting bag on the shoe cabinet with slow, sluggish movements.
The back-to-back high-intensity work following two concerts, coupled with that sudden, soul-crushing Board of Directors meeting this morning, had drained nearly all her energy.
Chiai paused the channel surfing and turned her head.
Her gaze landed on Su Yuqing’s pale face, and her brow furrowed slightly, looking like a Master dissatisfied with the poor condition of her Possession.
“It’s really strange, meow.”
She tilted her head, her tone full of unabashed, self-centered logic.
“From the moment you left until you got home, it’s only been ten hours at most. Why do you insist on going to that crappy job, meow? Would the Agency really collapse if it were without you for those few hours?”
To her, Su Yuqing’s time should naturally revolve around her needs; any time occupied by the outside world was an unnecessary waste.
Su Yuqing sat down at the other end of the sofa, sinking deep into the soft cushions as if seeking support.
She rubbed her aching temples and explained helplessly, her tone carrying a hint of self-deprecation and the heavy weight of reality.
“Because I’m not like you, Miss Chiai. If you sprain your ankle — even a minor twist — you can rightfully take an entire week or more of ‘sick leave.’ The company has to treat you like a goddess.”
She paused and looked at Chiai.
“But a common worker like me has to show up at their station as long as they’re still breathing. That’s the difference.”
“That’s not right, meow!”
Chiai immediately caught the “loophole” in her words — or rather, the “irrationality” in her perception.
A glint of shrewdness flashed in her glazed eyes.
“But doesn’t Manager Huang and the others know clearly that you’re my one and only Exclusive Manager? Your work should be 100% focused on me! How can your time be taken away by other things?”
In her self-centered worldview, Su Yuqing’s purpose was to serve her; any deviation was an anomaly.
“In theory, you’re right…”
Su Yuqing sighed, feeling her exhaustion deepen.
“But at the executive morning meeting today, our brilliant Chairman personally assigned me a new, ‘extremely honorable’ extra position.”
She emphasized the words “extremely honorable” with obvious irony.
“Position?”
Chiai’s ears seemed to twitch as her curiosity was piqued.
Like a cat discovering a new ball of yarn, she pressed, “What position? Is it more interesting than being my Manager?”
Her tone carried a hint of potential dissatisfaction at having attention diverted from her.
Su Yuqing looked at her and articulated the headache-inducing title clearly, syllable by syllable:
“Special… Chief… Examiner.”
Seeing Chiai’s confused expression, she explained further.
“Basically, for the upcoming period, I’m responsible for helping the Agency interview and screen a new batch of Trainees.”
The work is similar to the interview process I was involved in when you first came to Little Paw.
She tried to use an analogy Chiai would understand.
“Oh… recruiting newcomers…”
Chiai drawled.
Her glazed eyes flickered as she internally assessed the potential impact on her.
Then, her tone shifted as she asked a very practical, almost mercenary question, proving she wasn’t entirely ignorant of the world.
“What about the salary? They gave you all this extra work; how is the pay calculated? It should be a huge raise, right, meow?”
She believed effort deserved reward; that was only natural.
“Heh…”
Su Yuqing let out a short, cold laugh filled with insight into the harsh realities of the workplace.
“Those old foxes on the Board of Directors are as cunning and slick as ghosts. When they need you, they’ll praise you to the heavens as if the company would go bankrupt tomorrow without you. But in reality?”
She took a deep breath, her tone becoming heated.
“When it comes to anything substantial like salary, benefits, and adjustments to actual interests, they won’t concede a single word! They just wait for you to bite the bullet and lower yourself to bring it up! It’s as if the first person to talk about money loses status.”
“Then why the hell are you doing it, meow?”
Chiai frowned deeply, her tone becoming impatient.
She couldn’t understand why Su Yuqing would accept such “unfair” treatment.
“If I were you, I would have already taken whatever was nearby — “
She said, her gaze sweeping over the leftover Seafood Pizza box on the coffee table.
” — and slammed this cold piece of Seafood Pizza right into that Chairman’s face! Let’s see if he dares to order people around like that again, meow!”
Her logic was direct and violent, carrying the wilfulness of a feline master.
“Just eat your Seafood Pizza…!”
Su Yuqing was caught between a laugh and a cry at the childish, reckless suggestion, but her frustration dissipated slightly.
“Even food can’t keep your mouth shut.”
She knew explaining workplace politics to Chiai was like playing a lute to a cow.
“This meow is already full!”
Chiai licked the corner of her mouth like a cat that had just finished a feast, her tone becoming smugly charitable.
“However, I have a kind heart. Knowing you might not have eaten after work, I specifically left a few slices for you.”
She pointed a slender finger toward the dining table on the other side of the living room.
“There, see? They’re on the table. I even made sure not to close the box completely so they wouldn’t get soggy. Go eat!”
Her tone made it sound like she was granting a magnificent treasure.
Su Yuqing looked where she was pointing and saw the open pizza box with a few lonely slices sitting inside.
Though they were cold leftovers, this awkward concern from Chiai — who usually only knew how to take and never give — made her heart soften unexpectedly, a faint warmth blooming within her.
She stood up and walked toward the table.
“Fine, fine…”
She muttered as she walked, partly to comfort herself and partly as an explanation to Chiai.
“I’ll just consider it… helping you reduce the work pressure you’ve been under.”
“Reduce work pressure? Helping me?”
Chiai caught the keywords, her voice suddenly rising with a dramatic flair and a strong sense of warning.
Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, she immediately went on high alert.
“Let me get this straight first, meow!”
She glared at Su Yuqing’s back as she picked up the pizza, her tone becoming sharp and threatening.
“If you guys use this as an excuse to find me a partner who has zero Idol talent and is just a Big Idiot who drags me down…”
She paused, a cold and decisive light flashing in her glazed eyes as she declared her bottom line.
“Then this meow will absolutely, absolutely never perform on stage with such a fool, not even once! After all — “
She drawled, filled with the arrogance of a top Idol and extreme possessiveness over her stage reputation.
” — a performance like that wouldn’t reduce my pressure; it would only make me look cheap. Extremely, extremely cheap, meow! Understand?”
“Look at how you talk. How hurtful,” Su Yuqing said, taking a bite of the cold pizza.
She turned around and looked helplessly at the spoiled figure on the sofa, trying to be reasonable.
“Did you forget that you also started as a newcomer who knew nothing and had to be taught step by step? How can you look down on newcomers like that?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Chiai admitted readily, her chin lifting slightly.
There wasn’t a hint of shame on her face; instead, she was filled with natural pride.
“Back then, I really was a little kitten of a newcomer who knew nothing and needed you to take care of me.”
Her voice suddenly became piercing as her intense gaze locked onto Su Yuqing, posing a question that couldn’t be refuted.
“But what about now? Do you dare say, with a clear conscience, that I, Kasahana Chiai, am not a once-in-a-century, naturally gifted super genius in the Idol industry? Hmm?”
Her confidence was blindingly bright, yet its truth was undeniable.
Su Yuqing was left speechless.
Yes, Chiai was a genius — a super Idol born for the stage.
There was no doubt about that.
Looking at Chiai’s smug “admit I’m a genius” expression, she could only let out a helpless sigh, carrying a hint of indulgence she didn’t even notice.
“Fine, fine, you’re a genius. You’re a once-in-a-century genius! Alright, Great Genius, it’s late. Get your butt to bed! Don’t forget, your precious ankle was re-injured because of those two damn performances. You need to rest!”
“Roger that, meow! As you wish!”
Chiai seemed pleased by Su Yuqing’s concession and backhanded concern.
A satisfied smile spread across her face like a cat that had been stroked the right way.
She stretched lazily, yet her movements remained feline and elegant.
“Well then, your Master is going to rest now. Finish up and clean up quickly so you can come serve me.”
She didn’t forget to emphasize her “Master” status one last time before slowly throwing off the blanket.
Sliding into her slippers, she limped toward the bedroom, yet her posture remained prideful.
“Sigh…”
Watching her disappear into the bedroom, Su Yuqing let out a long sigh.
The living room returned to silence, save for the low background noise of the TV.
She looked down at the cold pizza in her hand and then up at the dark night sky outside, her heart filled with a mix of emotions.
Since things had come to this, the Board of Directors’ decision couldn’t be changed, and Chiai’s stance was clearly firm.
The burden of selecting newcomers had fallen on her shoulders.
“I guess I’ll… eat something to fill my stomach first,” she whispered to herself, as if convincing herself to accept reality.
After all, no matter how many troubles and challenges lay ahead, one had to eat one bite at a time and walk one step at a time.
And for now, this cold but meaningful slice of pizza from that willful “Genius” seemed to be the only tangible thing she could hold on to.
Su Yuqing needed this bit of energy to face the days ahead, which were destined to be anything but peaceful.
The storm of selecting newcomers was perhaps only just beginning to brew…