Chapter 18: Very Flirtatious

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◎ You Are Mine ◎

Cen Mo thought that no matter the reason, getting a raise was a good thing.

Why do people work? Isn’t it simply for survival? And what does survival need? Of course, money.

It wasn’t about being materialistic; it was just reality. If she had more financial resources, she wouldn’t have started working so early. She would have chosen to continue her graduate studies instead.

But this was fine as well; at least it added life experience. Plus, her boss was particularly generous...

She knew her attitude had caused a misunderstanding, but there was no way to explain it. She couldn’t just say, “President Su, you misunderstood. I’m not angry; I’m just hiding my embarrassment,” right?

That would have been even more awkward. And if she did that, what if he refused to give her the raise?

After this whole train of thought, Cen Mo felt like she was really a bit of a money lover...

“Thank you, President Su. I will definitely continue to work hard.” In the end, she sincerely expressed her gratitude.

This was not a lie. Cen Mo had always been someone who knew how to appreciate kindness. Even when someone bought her a drink before, she would think about how to repay them, let alone something as significant as a raise.

“Alright, go ahead and start working.” Su Xingzhi looked at the person sitting in front of him, and seeing that Secretary Cen’s expression and tone had finally returned to normal, he nodded and let her leave.

Only after the door gently closed did the man lift his large hand and press lightly to his brow, glancing at his watch.

It had taken a full hour—women really were hard to please.

He casually picked up a document, glanced through it, then paused and looked up at the lion paperweight on the corner of the desk, a faint smile curling on his lips.

But if you grasp the method, it’s actually quite effective, isn’t it?

...

After work, Cen Mo went straight to the supermarket. Usually, when buying groceries, she only took a basket because she didn’t eat much and preferred to buy as little as possible.

Today, however, she broke her usual habit and pushed a cart, having even prepared a menu beforehand and carefully selected each item according to the notes on her phone. It was quite a grand affair.

She ended up buying enough to fill half the cart. When she got to the checkout, she felt the shopping bags were a bit heavy—there were simply too many items.

As someone who knew how to appreciate kindness, Secretary Cen pondered for a while and decided to do something practical: make a lunchbox for President Su, who had generously given her a raise.

The memory of him grabbing her by the neck in a dream was completely erased. Now she thought this man wasn’t bad at all; at least he could empathize with his employees’ feelings.

At Yachuang, the lunch break lasted two hours, but as the president, Su Xingzhi hardly took breaks. He usually worked right after eating, and sometimes he was so busy he wouldn’t eat at all, which wasn’t good for his health.

Cen Mo had ordered meals for him a few times before, always from the same private kitchen restaurant, which specialized in lighter flavors. She knew Su Xingzhi’s tastes well, especially since she had even made him porridge twice before.

So, her meals should suit his palate, right?

The private kitchen needed time to prepare and deliver orders, which was inconvenient. But lunchboxes were much better; they could be eaten cold or reheated in a microwave with just a few seconds.

Thinking this over, making lunchboxes was the best option.

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At first, when Cen Mo brought lunchboxes to work, she would save part of her dinner the night before and refrigerate it for the next day. But after a few days, she found that even refrigerated, the taste of the ingredients changed and was never as fresh.

So she changed her plan. She would prepare the ingredients the night before and refrigerate them, then get up half an hour earlier to cook fresh in the morning. This made the meals taste much better.

After returning home that day, she ate a light dinner, went for a run, then continued preparing ingredients once back.

The menu was set early: pan-fried mini sausages, seaweed and pork floss rice balls, tamagoyaki, a dish of Japanese-style teriyaki beef, and a small cold salad of cucumber and broccoli.

That evening, she prepared the tamagoyaki egg mixture, washed the vegetables, sliced the mini sausages, and prepared the teriyaki sauce in advance.

She first simmered some dashi broth with bonito flakes in a small pot, then split the broth in half—one half was cooled and mixed into the egg liquid, while the other half was combined with the teriyaki sauce. This method gave the dishes an authentic Japanese flavor.

She worked until ten o’clock at night before taking a shower. After skincare, she wore loose pajamas and curled up on her bed. She lit some aromatherapy candles on the nearby cabinet.

After a while, the woody fragrance slowly filled the room. Paired with the warm light from the bedside lamp, the atmosphere was quite poetic.

Cen Mo leaned against the headboard, casually turned on her Bluetooth speaker, and softly played a piano piece. She opened a book and read intently.

When conditions allowed, she knew how to enjoy life. Her body was hers, and it was necessary to relax sometimes so that stress would vanish.

She slept soundly that night. The next morning, she got up, washed up, and went straight to the kitchen to make lunchboxes. The rice and purple rice had soaked overnight and now steamed gently in the cooker.

She wiped and heated the small pan for tamagoyaki, then took out the refrigerated egg mixture, pouring it in portions and rolling it carefully into a neat layered roll. She pressed it gently to brown the surface before placing it on the cutting board to cool.

To be honest, when cooking for herself before, she was never so meticulous. As long as it tasted good, she didn’t care much about presentation.

But since it was for the big boss, she naturally put in twice the effort. With this mindset, she continued preparing the rest of the dishes and took out two clean, sterilized lunch boxes to pack them.

To prevent the flavors from mixing, she used disposable paper containers purchased online to separate items with sauces, such as the cold salad.

She had bought these before and, after unpacking, found small molds for shaping the seaweed. She studied them in her hand for a while.

She deliberately set her alarm half an hour earlier that day. After finishing the packing, she still had time, so she cut some fruit into a container. After breakfast, she grabbed her bag and headed to work.

When she arrived at the company, most people hadn’t come yet. Cen Mo sat at her desk and tidied up the area.

After a while, she heard footsteps and looked up to see Su Xingzhi coming out of the elevator and walking toward her.

The man was still dressed in a sharp, tailored black suit. Looking closer, one could tell the style was different. He had switched to a new watch and his deep brown leather shoes were spotless. He strode over with long steps.

“Good morning, President Su,” Cen Mo stood and greeted him.

Usually, at this time, he would just nod and pass by, but today he stopped unusually.

“Good morning,” he said softly, his striking eyes appraising her face for a moment before he continued into the office.

Cen Mo sat down and couldn’t help but touch her face, uneasy. She pulled out a mirror from her bag to check.

Nothing was on it.

The morning passed in a busy blur. Although her position was only that of a secretary, Cen Mo had many responsibilities—taking care of the president’s daily life and handling numerous work tasks. She was effectively wearing multiple hats.

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Su Xingzhi disliked being disturbed unnecessarily. Usually, anyone wanting to see him had to go through the secretary.

Some senior executives were impatient and spoke sharply. Cen Mo didn’t take offense. She maintained a polite smile and stood her ground, not letting them pass.

Though she was cold by nature, it didn’t mean she couldn’t feign enthusiasm. Having worked as a sales assistant before, she knew how to give the most natural fake smile.

As the saying goes, you can’t hit a smiling face. This delicate young woman stood there with a smile, apologizing repeatedly. People really had no choice but to relent.

In truth, these visitors rarely had anything important to report or discuss. Most times, once inside the president’s office, they just caused trouble and disrupted Su Xingzhi’s work.

With experience now, Cen Mo could quickly understand their intentions with just a few questions, effectively stopping most troublemakers.

...

At lunch break, as usual, she noticed the president’s office was quiet. After some thought, she took the lunchbox and knocked, then entered.

The man’s brow was slightly furrowed as he stared at the computer screen. Noticing her standing by the desk, as if she wanted to say something, he looked up and asked, “What is it?”

Cen Mo immediately regretted it, feeling she was interrupting his work. Didn’t he know if he was hungry? Did she really need to remind him?

She lifted the lunchbox slightly and said, “Sorry to bother you, President Su. I made an extra lunchbox. If you’d like, you can try it.”

She hadn’t expected much, but the man nodded and said, “Put it down.”

Cen Mo brightened, set the wooden lunchbox down, and added, “I warmed it up a bit, so it won’t be cold when you eat.”

Then she turned and left.

Her footsteps were noticeably lighter on the way out. Su Xingzhi raised an eyebrow, waiting until the office door closed before picking up the lunchbox.

The wooden box radiated some warmth. Opening it, he saw two layers neatly packed. The golden tamagoyaki looked soft, the mini sausages were shaped like little octopuses, and the cold salad was well protected in the small paper container. In the center were hot slices of beef covered in thick sauce.

He picked up a mini sausage and tasted it, raising his brow with a pleased expression. Gently lifting the top layer aside, his gaze lingered on the food below, and his expression briefly froze.

In the square box lay an enormous rice ball shaped like Totoro, lying comfortably inside. The seaweed was cut into various lines to form the body and eyes, and small triangular ears carved from radish sat atop the head. It was simply... adorable, vivid and lifelike.

It would be very effective for coaxing a child.

From the baby bowl last time to the cartoon rice ball now, what exactly did this woman think of him?

...

Meanwhile, Cen Mo had no idea what the man was thinking.

She sat on the rooftop terrace of the company, eating her own lunch. Compared to Su Xingzhi’s, hers was clearly more casual, with ingredients just tossed in. The rice ball wasn’t shaped but simply mixed with seaweed and pork floss.

There hadn’t been much time in the morning, and the Totoro rice ball must have taken her quite some effort. But since it was a token of gratitude, it had to show some sincerity, right?