Qin Ning let out a dry chuckle and ignored me. I blinked, deciding to play nice and get on her good side.

“Sister Qin Ning,” I asked ingratiatingly, “about recruitment—do you have any general standards? So we can hire people who actually meet your expectations.”

She shifted into a more comfortable position. “Su Xiaoxi, why do you think *you* passed?”

Good question… tricky to answer. Anything I said would sound conceited.

But if I lied and claimed I had zero strengths? That’d imply Qin Ning was blind to pick me—and insulting the boss was way worse than sounding full of myself.

“Because I’m well-rounded? Know a little of everything?” I offered a safe middle ground.

“No.” Qin Ning coldly uttered a single word.

I hesitated. “Because I have a good attitude and was first to arrive?”

“Not that either.”

I tilted my head slightly. “Because I’m experienced and capable?”

Qin Ning had had enough. “Because you’re an adorably cute girl. Got it?”

“…”

Those words… seriously made my cheeks burn.

Alright, message received. Qin Ning’s standard was crystal clear: only exceptionally pretty girls need apply. Ordinary? Not happening. With that clarity, the rest of the interviews flowed smoothly.

Skills didn’t matter—everything would be taught, just as Qin Ning said: *Only a fool couldn’t learn in a whole summer.*

Four candidates came that morning. All… average. I quietly jotted scores in my notebook—backup options only.

(The scores reflected my subjective backup priority, not looks.)

Morning slipped by. Then, the rich aroma from Century City’s snack street seeped through the window crack—and both Qin Ning and I heard it clearly:

*Gurgle.*

She stared at me. I stared back.

“…Okay, that was mine,” I mumbled, lowering my head. “Skipped breakfast.”

Qin Ning slammed a hand on the desk and stood. “Discharged from the hospital *yesterday* and you skip breakfast? So confident in that petite frame? Keep it up—I’ll bet you’re back in a hospital bed soon.”

“…”

…Was that concern? Did it have to sound so sharp-tongued?

“Let’s go.” She rose.

I tilted my head. “Where?”

“Eat.”

She’d already walked ahead before I belatedly followed. Century City overflowed with eateries—snack streets, restaurant rows—but she led me straight to the innermost spot.

Not Western. Not Japanese. The first meal my boss treated me to? *Authentic Old-Stove Bone Soup.*

*Huh. Such a youthful, gorgeous woman… into old-school soup?* I muttered inwardly as the giant clay pot arrived.

“I wasn’t sure what aids recovery,” she added casually while picking up chopsticks, “but this seemed reliable.”

My hands stilled. *She chose this… for me?* A warm, fluttery feeling bloomed in my chest.

The broth simmered deeper, steam carrying its rich scent. Qin Ning tapped her chopsticks. “Ready.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I didn’t move. Protocol said wait for the boss. But Qin Ning frowned at my hesitation.

“Aren’t you hungry? Why aren’t you eating? Don’t tell me the all-capable Su Xiaoxi can’t even serve soup?”

Right! I stood quickly, reaching toward her bowl. “Sister Qin Ning, let me serve you—”

“No.” *Tap.* Her chopsticks lightly rapped my hand. “I don’t drink soup. Only meat.”

She fished a rib into her bowl.

“R-right!” I scooped half a bowl of broth. “You eat meat. I drink soup.”

“…That sounds weird. Is that a meme?”

…It was. But totally unintentional.

Lunch passed in… *harmonious (?)* silence. Honestly? Soup: great. Dipping sauce: meh. Meat lacked flavor, though the shrimp paste had decent bounce.

Back at the office, Qin Ning skipped her nap and stayed seated nearby while I waited for interviewees. Why? She’d handed interviews to me—but her presence made every morning candidate assume *she* was the real interviewer, completely overlooking me (the actual interviewer who looked like a middle schooler).

*Knock, knock, knock.*

New round began. After two bland candidates, a girl walked in who made my eyes light up.

Honey-gold twin tails. Sky-blue eyes sparkling with energy. A notably ample bust. Straight out of an anime—the quintessential energetic *moe* heroine.

“Hello,” I spoke up quickly, “may I ask your name?”

Gotta grab her attention before she overlooks me and tanks my impression score.