9: Thank You, My Mr. X.
The gene-editing project in the research lab was progressing slowly, with several critical technical hurdles yet to be overcome. Chen Pinming submitted a new proposal and suggested to Sheng Shaoyou that they consider poaching someone from Shen Wenlang’s team with a high salary.
Sheng Shaoyou thought it over and decided they shouldn’t act rashly. Shen Wenlang’s technical team all held equity shares and were his trusted inner circle. It would be difficult to lure them away, and making a move too early could alert him unnecessarily.
Chen Pinming glanced at the brown envelope and hesitantly asked if they should try approaching Hua Yong instead.
Chen had already looked into Hua Yong’s background. He was highly educated, strikingly attractive, and clearly favored by Shen Wenlang—so much so that he even accompanied Shen to board meetings without any effort to hide his presence.
Hearing that, Sheng Shaoyou’s mood darkened. He thought to himself: “You can bring him to board meetings, but you won’t even give him enough money to pay his sister’s medical bills, making him go wait tables in shady clubs to earn fast cash?”
The report showed that Hua Yong only worked for HS because Shen Wenlang had sponsored him during college and arranged for his sister to be treated at He Ci Hospital. To repay the favor, Hua Yong had signed a 15-year binding contract with HS while still in school. Shen’s financial support wasn’t exactly meager, but Hua Yong’s sister was in a private hospital where money burned like paper. He was constantly strapped for cash.
Chen Pinming analyzed that generous rewards bred brave men, and if they spent enough money, it might be possible to win over Hua Yong—who already felt some gratitude toward Sheng Shaoyou.
But Sheng didn’t feel much about the plan—except that he thought Hua Yong was stupid.
So good-looking, yet he didn’t know how to use that to his advantage? And he was supposedly a straight-A student? What a waste of that face!
Anyone with even half a brain would have tried to squeeze a big payout if someone like Shen Wenlang—rich and well-known—harassed them at work.
But Hua Yong? He didn’t know how to take shortcuts at all. The stubborn Omega could only bite his lip and go plead with doctors to delay payment.
Forget blackmail—he probably hadn’t even thought of resigning. Enduring workplace harassment just because of a foolish sense of gratitude?
Sheng Shaoyou ran his fingers along the raised edge of the brown envelope, feeling increasingly frustrated. He resented the fact that he hadn’t been the one to sponsor Hua Yong’s education. And at the same time, he wanted to hunt down that disgusting wolf who had harassed his innocent subordinate and tear him limb from limb.
At 7:30 that evening, just as Sheng Shaoyou was unusually home for dinner, he received a message from Hua Yong.
Hua Yong asked if he had received the money.
Sheng had already typed “Yes,” but then deleted it and sent, “No.”
Hua Yong seemed anxious. He called right away but quickly hung up.
Seconds later, the overly proud orchid sent another message:
“Mr. Sheng, may I ask if it’s convenient for you to take a call?”
Sheng Shaoyou chuckled and called him back.
“Mr. Sheng,” Hua Yong’s voice was soft, like he was trying to avoid being overheard.
Sheng replied with a low “Mm.” “What are you doing? Why so sneaky?”
“I’m waiting outside for President Shen’s meeting to end,” Hua Yong whispered.
“This late?” Sheng frowned, then sneered, “Shen Wenlang really knows how to use people. Doesn’t pay much, but sure works you hard.”
When he brought up money, Hua Yong’s voice rose slightly, though still soft. “Mr. Sheng, the money I returned today—you didn’t get it?”
Sheng teased, “What money?”
“The envelope I asked Secretary Chen to give you!”
“Oh, that one?”
“You received it, right?”
“Nope,” Sheng said. “Did you return it? I didn’t hear about that.”
Hua Yong’s breathing quickened. “How can that be? Secretary Chen promised he’d pass it on.”
Sheng could practically picture the color draining from Hua Yong’s face on the other end of the call. His heart gave a little squeeze—half amused, half itchy. He casually asked, “When do you get off work?”
There was a pause. Hua Yong seemed confused by the question but answered honestly, “In half an hour.”
Sheng glanced at his watch, calculated the drive time from his house to HS, and said, “Hard to explain over the phone. I’m nearby—I’ll come pick you up, and we can talk in person.”
Clearly very concerned about that 20,000 yuan, Hua Yong agreed without hesitation.
Sheng told his driver to take the night off and drove to HS headquarters himself.
He arrived ten minutes early. Reclining in the driver’s seat, he closed his eyes to rest. A short while later, there was a knock on the window.
Sheng opened his eyes to see Hua Yong peering inside.
Hua Yong was wearing a professional suit today, looking more mature than the time he wore the old sweater—but not by much. The winter night air had reddened his nose and cheeks. Sheng unlocked the door. Hua Yong opened it and shivered his way inside.
“Shut the door,” Sheng grumbled, annoyed that he was acting like he’d only stay a moment. “It’s freezing.”
Startled, Hua Yong quickly closed the door.
As the heater kicked in, the cabin slowly warmed. Hua Yong stopped shivering but still looked cold and frail. Hugging himself, he turned his face up anxiously. “Mr. Sheng, about the money—”
“Oh, that,” Sheng said casually. “Chen Pinming messaged me. Said he forgot earlier and would give it to me tomorrow.”
Hua Yong breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good.” Then he added sincerely, “I’ll repay the next installment as soon as I get my salary next month.”
“No need.” Sheng looked at his reddened ears and cheeks, feeling unexpectedly generous. “Just pay every six months. However much you can manage. That little money doesn’t mean much to me.”
“But—”
“But what? Doesn’t your sister still need treatment? You’ve got plenty of expenses ahead. If you give it all back to me, how will you afford her care? Gonna cry to the doctors again for more delays?”
Hua Yong fell silent, head lowered. His soft lips pressed together. After a long pause, he said, “Thank you, Mr. Sheng.”
That gentle “Mr. Sheng” made Sheng Shaoyou feel unspeakably content. For once, he even smiled at Hua Yong.
Hua Yong looked up—right into Sheng’s rare smile—and immediately blushed. His dainty earlobes turned crimson.
With wicked intent, Sheng leaned in. “Is it hot? Why’s your face so red?”
“N-No.” Hua Yong looked away, eyes darting. “Mr. Sheng, can I add you on WeChat?”
“Sure,” Sheng pulled out his phone and let him scan the QR code.
Hua Yong blushed harder, scanned him, and then, after thanking him seriously again, got out of the car.
Sheng waited until just before bedtime to approve the friend request.
You’ve added “Freestyle Swimming.” You can now chat.
Not long after, Hua Yong sent the first message:
Freestyle Swimming:
“Hello, Mr. Sheng, this is Hua Yong. 😊😊😊”
Sheng ignored it at first.
The next morning, after his team’s meeting ended, he replied:
Laid-Back:
“Got it.”
To his surprise, Hua Yong responded almost immediately.
Freestyle Swimming:
“Mr. Sheng, I baked cookies this morning and sent them to your office reception. I didn’t know what flavor you’d like, so I made plain ones. Hope you don’t mind—I really hope you enjoy them!”
Cookies?
Sheng didn’t usually eat sweets, especially cookies. But the meeting had run long and left him hungry. He asked Chen Pinming to fetch the package from the front desk.
He’d received all kinds of expensive gifts before, so homemade cookies were rather humble. But they were clearly made with care—rich ingredients, thoughtful execution. The orchid was clumsy, yes, but surprisingly skilled in the kitchen. The cookies weren’t overly sweet, soft and crisp in just the right way. The bag even came with a handwritten note, sharing his thoughts on baking.
“This was the second batch. The first batch got a little burnt because I didn’t control the temperature well. But I didn’t waste them—I ate them all! ^ ^”
Sheng found it amusing and texted back:
Laid-Back:
“Burnt cookies aren’t good for you. They can cause cancer.”
Hua Yong was likely busy and didn’t respond for over half an hour.
Freestyle Swimming:
“I made sure to spit out the burnt parts.”
Sheng was in the middle of scolding a subordinate when he read the reply. His expression softened, and he waved them away like an emperor issuing a pardon: “Get lost.”
From that moment on, he started getting cookies every day.
His office drawer began to fill with little notes from Hua Yong—trivial, chatty scraps of paper that made Sheng feel like a schoolboy in love. Not that Sheng had ever been in a real relationship. And kids these days probably didn’t even do notes anymore.
Still, for some reason, he really liked it.
Like a fish being fed delicious bait every day, he even started looking forward to what flavor he’d get next.
Hua Yong’s WeChat feed was full of daily updates. The first time Sheng opened it, the cover photo stunned him—a candid of Hua Yong holding a mug with orchids painted on it, wearing a simple hoodie, smiling brightly at the camera.
Without thinking, Sheng saved the photo to his phone. Then he wasted a whole afternoon reading through all of Hua Yong’s silly little posts.
His daily life was ordinary, but occasionally funny and a bit unlucky.
One post read:
“Aiya, I’m so dumb. Set my alarm wrong, woke up late, took the wrong subway, and got to work one minute late! Bye-bye, perfect attendance bonus! 😭😭😭”
(with a meme of a cat howling like a tiger)
Most of his posts were about commuting, hospital visits, and random life updates.
One post had a photo of a cloud in the blue sky.
The caption read:
“His mouth is mean, but his heart is softer than a cloud. Thank you, my Mr. X. 🤫🤫🤫”
Sheng’s heart skipped a beat. He checked the date and realized—it was the same day they met in the elevator. When he’d been in a foul mood, lashed out at him, then impulsively paid the hospital fees.
Mr. X?
Sheng couldn’t help but laugh.
That orchid sure talked a lot.
But maybe… he was just a little bit adorable.