The Backstreets trio listened to the music echoing through the room. Compared to the "refined, elegant" melody from the morning, the song playing now suited their kind of people far better.
As they used the rhythm to recover their stamina, Anna noticed that even during break time, Faust was still writing in her notebook.
Seriously… every time I see her, I'm shocked by how she's always recording things.Anna couldn't help but admire her. In the future, Faust is definitely going to become someone incredible.
But still… this song was so hype. Anna found herself thinking: It'd be great if the Manager played this kind of stuff every day.Then she immediately scolded herself in her head.
No, no, Anna—don't get greedy. How can you start expecting the Manager to cater to your preferences?
She patted her cheeks, pulled her thoughts back into line, and continued resting.
Meanwhile, Zhou Zhuang and Angela were slowly making their way back toward his room, strolling through a corridor that felt noticeably lighter now that the music had washed over it.
Zhou Zhuang was extremely satisfied with how the song diluted the oppressive atmosphere.
"Not bad—really not bad." He turned into a shameless credit-seeker, grinning at Angela. "Angela, you see? The vibe's way better now, right?"
Watching him act like a kid begging for praise, Angela sighed… then nodded, agreeing.
After only a few songs, Zhou Zhuang arrived at his door.
He set the bag of snacks aside, opened the door, and waved goodbye to Angela.
"Alright, Angela—I'm back. You should go rest too."
But instead of stepping inside, Zhou Zhuang stood at his doorway and watched where Angela went.
Not far away, Angela stopped at another door and reached out to open it.
Zhou Zhuang's eyes widened.
No way… her room is this close to mine?…Or maybe she still has work to do. Haha. Yeah. Probably work.
He was still staring like an idiot when Angela looked back. One glance was enough for her to read the curiosity all over his face.
After a brief pause, Angela smiled—then invited him over to take a look.
Zhou Zhuang pretended to refuse a few times…
…If only he hadn't already started walking toward her while refusing, the performance might've been convincing.
He reached her side and peered into the room.
The layout was stark:
A desk with a computer on it
A single bed to the left, blanket neatly arranged
On the right, only a full-length mirror and a clothes rack
His first impression: this didn't feel like a girl's room at all. If Angela hadn't been standing beside him, he would've assumed he'd just toured a prison cell.
At Angela's invitation, Zhou Zhuang entered without a word. A tea table and stools manifested in the middle of the room, and he took the guest seat.
Angela prepared tea with practiced ease. Zhou Zhuang finally organized his thoughts and spoke.
"Angela… you live in a room like this?"
"Yes." Angela tilted her head slightly. "Is something wrong, Manager?"
"Don't you feel it's kind of… depressing?" Zhou Zhuang spoke bluntly. "The company already gets no sunlight, and your room's décor is so empty. So monotonous."
Angela handed him the tea. Zhou Zhuang received it with both hands and thanked her.
He took a small sip to moisten his dry throat, then continued.
"You should put more stuff in here. Even if it's not 'useful,' at least it'll make the room feel more… human."
Angela took a small sip of her own tea and replied calmly:
"But isn't your room the same as mine? A desk, a stool, and a bed—nothing else."
"And if we're being precise," she added, "you've never even used the desk. All your entertainment activities happen on the bed."
Zhou Zhuang froze.
He awkwardly scratched his cheek.Wait—how did we go from criticizing her room… to my room getting put on trial?!
"I—I only use my room to sleep!" he blurted out without thinking.
The moment the words left his mouth, he realized he'd stepped on a landmine.
Angela looked at him with a gentle, smiling gaze.
"Manager, by that logic, my room is simple because it is also only used for sleeping."
"Th-that's different!" Zhou Zhuang panicked—but he was completely stuck and couldn't explain why.
"Oh?" Angela leaned in, pressing the advantage. "How is it different?"
Zhou Zhuang finally detonated his own "XP confession" like a self-inflicted critical hit:
"Because I want to see a room full of feminine charm—not a cold prison where someone lives like a robot who doesn't care about their surroundings."
Yes—to the archmage Zhou Zhuang, a woman's room was an unknown territory. It symbolized habits and personality, an entire world behind a closed door. His imagination turned it into part of an idealized "perfect picture."
He continued, getting more and more earnest:
"A room is part of a girl. Whether it's messy piles of clothes, or a perfectly clean space—people should be able to feel the presence of a living person in it."
"My room is simple, sure. That desk is probably unnecessary for me. But I wouldn't throw it away. I can guarantee my room will become more and more crowded the longer I live here."
Angela murmured softly, as if considering his words.
"Is that so…"
Then she smiled—warmly, deliberately—and extended a gentle invitation.
"Then, Manager… may I invite you to help your secretary, little by little, arrange this room into something more 'human'?"
....
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