Han Yue looked at the financial report and sighed. The numbers were not just bad; they were actively hostile.
As the CEO of Nova Consulting, Han Yue was supposed to be the master of stability. She was competent, sharp, and only twenty-eight, but her company was drowning in debt from a hostile market takeover six months ago. She worked eighteen hours a day, fueled only by strong coffee and sheer pride.
Right now, she sat alone in her massive office. It felt less like a place of power and more like a very expensive cage. She was facing bankruptcy in two weeks.
"Just need one small break," she muttered, tapping a pen against her mahogany desk. "Just one contract to keep us afloat."
Everything felt cursed. Her best senior partner had quit last week. Her crucial computer server crashed yesterday. Even the office coffee machine had exploded this morning. Nothing was going right.
She needed a new Personal Assistant (PA) because her last one had a nervous breakdown. She checked the hiring applications—a long list of people who looked too glossy, too eager.
Then she saw the last applicant: Zhao Min.
His photo was unusual. He looked sincere, honest, and far too handsome for a PA job. His resume was even odder: years working at a small electronics repair shop. No corporate experience at all.
He's useless, Han Yue decided, running a tired hand through her short, sharp haircut. But he has honest eyes. And I'm desperate enough for a change of pace to risk an interview.
She clicked the button to schedule an interview for the next afternoon.
Han Yue spent the rest of the day in a haze of phone calls and emergency meetings. She was fighting a losing battle. The bank was demanding immediate payment, and her most vital, long-standing client, Mr. Davison, was refusing to renew his contract.
"I can't work with this instability, Han Yue," Davison had snarled over the phone an hour ago. "Your firm is a mess. I'm taking my business to your rival, Stellar Corp. It's final."
Han Yue had felt the defeat physically. Losing Davison meant losing one-third of her remaining revenue. It was the final nail in the coffin.
She dismissed her remaining staff early. She felt sick, trapped. She decided to work late, alone.
At eight o'clock, she decided she couldn't take the silence anymore. She picked up the phone to call her last, desperate contact—a distant lawyer named Mr. Chen—to see if he could find a loophole in her loan agreement.
Just as her finger hit the first digit, her computer screen flashed. An email notification popped up, from Mr. Davison.
Han Yue stared at it. Why would he email her after saying goodbye?
She clicked it open. The subject line was simply: "Contract Renewal Question."
Her heart pounded. She read the email. Davison didn't apologize, but he didn't confirm the break-up either. He asked a strange, specific question about a clause in their old contract—a clause that had been irrelevant for years.
"I need to understand this clause before I finalize with Stellar," the email read.
Han Yue frowned. It made no sense. Why pause his final decision for a minor detail? The rival firm was offering him everything. He had been so certain earlier.
She checked the time. The email arrived at 7:55 PM. Exactly five minutes ago.
Han Yue looked down at her desk. She had been checking the list of PA applicants before the email came. She had confirmed Zhao Min's interview only moments before.
"Impossible," she whispered. "It's just random chance."
But in her gut, the sharp, logical part of her brain registered a small, undeniable data point: the run of terrible luck had paused. A door that had been slammed shut had just cracked open.
The next day, Zhao Min arrived for his interview. He was early and nervous. He sat in the sleek, minimalist waiting area, feeling utterly out of place. He adjusted his jacket and tried to look professional.
Han Yue walked into the waiting room to greet him herself. She wanted to observe him immediately. She needed to know if the luck was tied to his presence.
"Mr. Zhao," she said, offering a cool handshake. "Come in."
As they walked down the hall toward her office, Han Yue's phone buzzed in her pocket. It was her assistant, Ms. Lin.
"Ms. Han, the coffee machine! It fixed itself overnight! The maintenance team just checked the wiring and found no issue at all."
Han Yue paused, her eyes locked on Zhao Min's back. The coffee machine that had defied every repairman for two weeks was suddenly fixed.
She ushered Zhao Min into her office and closed the door. She looked across the desk at him—handsome, sincere, and utterly clueless.
"Tell me why I should hire a repairman to handle my business," she asked, skipping the usual interview questions.
Zhao Min sat up straight. "Ms. Han, I am good at finding the core issue and fixing it. I see that you are highly competent, but stressed. I admire that you haven't quit. I will work hard and be loyal. I have nothing to lose, and only something to gain."
His genuine admiration and honesty—his lack of greed—hit Han Yue with the force of a shockwave. She felt a warmth in her chest, a calming force she hadn't felt in months.
Affection Level: +10 (Genuine Respect/Admiration)
She looked at her financial report. Then back at Zhao Min. Logic told her this was crazy. But her new sense of calm told her to proceed.
"Mr. Zhao," she said slowly. "I'm offering you the job. Start immediately."
He smiled, relieved and incredibly grateful. His pure joy pushed her Affection Level to +15.
Han Yue didn't know how his smile worked, but she knew it was valuable. She just needed to figure out how to keep it.