Chapter Three: The Fury of the Tyrannosaurus

“Hey, Chubby! Get over here!” The two of them were tiptoeing, hoping to sneak into the office unnoticed, but their hopes were shattered by Director Tyrannosaurus’s furious roar.

Wu Ming let out a sigh of relief and was just about to sit down and turn on his computer when the director’s voice rang out again, even louder: “And you, Wu Ming! You remember you have a job, do you? Both of you, get in here now!”

“Chubby, explain this to me—why does the page number jump from 18 to 27 in this book layout?” Chubby hurriedly picked up the sample copy in front of the director and flipped through it. In no time, his face turned green.

“Director, I’m terribly sorry. That was my mistake in the layout. I’m willing to take personal responsibility for any losses caused to the company!”

“At least you’re quick to admit your mistake! Next time, try bringing your brain to work. Fortunately, I caught the error in time, so the damage is minimal. I won’t dock your pay this time.”

A wave of delight washed over Chubby. The director must have turned over a new leaf; since when was he so lenient?

“However, your bonus for this month is gone. Consider this a minor penalty.” The director took a sip of tea and waved Chubby out. Chubby didn’t seem to care much—he wasn’t living off that little bit of money anyway. He strolled out, light as air, and even remembered to gently close the door behind him.

“As for you, Comrade Wu Ming, did you even bother to request leave? You were gone for two, almost three full days!” Director Tyrannosaurus rapped his knuckles on the desk, making a sharp, repetitive sound that made one wonder how his hand didn’t hurt.

“Director, well, I accidentally fainted and was out for two whole days and a night, then ended up in the hospital! I didn’t have time to report to you or apply for leave. I sincerely apologize!”

Chubby had already explained over hot pot that Wu Ming hadn’t just been unconscious for a night or even a day and a night—Director Tyrannosaurus had thrown a fit twice over it.

Wu Ming snuck a glance at the director, trying to gauge his reaction. But to his surprise, he noticed two wisps of faint, pink vapor swirling above the director’s forehead, twisting and colliding with one another. “Pink fortune, a sign of romantic trouble… Two wisps—must be double trouble. Looks like the director’s in for a rough patch,” Wu Ming muttered under his breath.

Director Tyrannosaurus had an uncanny sense of hearing; he caught Wu Ming’s muttering word for word. “Brother Wu Ming, you’re quite the expert! You can read auras, can’t you? Got any advice for your brother here?”

The director suddenly grabbed Wu Ming’s hand enthusiastically. “Come, come, sit here, have some tea!” All at once, his stern demeanor vanished. He pulled Wu Ming into his own executive chair and even poured him a cup of tea, leaving Wu Ming feeling utterly out of place.

“Director, what are you—?” Wu Ming hardly knew whether to sit or stand, but the director pressed him firmly into the chair and even started massaging his shoulders.

“You’ve worked hard, Brother Wu Ming, let me give you a massage. You’ve just recovered from illness, you should rest more. I’ll give you an extra week of paid sick leave. This counts as a work injury—so dedicated to overtime that you worked yourself sick. A model employee if ever I saw one! I’ll be sure to report this to headquarters and recommend you for a commendation as an exemplary worker. I’ll also submit your name for promotion!”

Wu Ming was completely bewildered by the director’s sudden, almost obsequious, attentiveness. What in the world was going on?

“Director, what on earth—?” Wu Ming managed.

“Brother Wu Ming, when did you learn to read auras? Did some immortal spirit possess you while you were ill?” The director’s eyes were practically sparkling—he seemed to believe in the supernatural wholeheartedly.

“I never learned to read auras, and I wasn’t possessed by anything,” Wu Ming replied helplessly.

“Watch your mouth! That’s no way to talk about the immortals. It’s my mistake for being so disrespectful. I hope the immortals will forgive me!” Director Tyrannosaurus started smacking his own lips and bowing repeatedly in apology.