Xing Tang had told An Ting the day before that she didn't have to work over the weekend and could start Monday, yet a phone call had woken her early the next morning.
She glanced at her phone. 5:30 a.m. The dormitory was still filled with even, peaceful breathing, and for a moment, she felt a pang of overwhelm.
After becoming a poor student again, the hardest part wasn't the lack of money—it was the joy of sleeping in until noon. Waking up at 5:30? Her first reaction was pure resistance.
But resistance was useless. The price of making money, after all, was a chilled scalp and a gradual thinning of hair.
She didn't have many easy-to-wear clothes, so she quickly picked an outfit, applied light makeup, grabbed her bag, and rushed out of the dorm by six.
While running toward the bus stop, she sent Xing Tang a WeChat message: "Will you reimburse my fare?"
No hesitation. "No matter how you come, I'll reimburse your travel expenses."
Her eyes lit up. She immediately abandoned the bus stop and hailed a taxi.
By the time she arrived at Xing Tang's apartment, it was 6:30 a.m. She silently appreciated his choice to buy a central city apartment; if he had opted for a suburban villa like other wealthy people, she might never have made it in time even by taxi.
The security guard, seemingly pre-informed by Xing Tang, asked for her number and let her through. Though the apartment was in the city center, the noise was minimal, and the middle floor location with good insulation kept it peaceful.
Xing Tang had bought the entire floor, even knocking down the middle section, making his home larger than his studio office floor.
When she rang the doorbell, it took a moment for him to answer. He looked her over and nodded in satisfaction. "You were quite fast."
"There are a lot of new slippers in the shoe cabinet. Pick a pair and change into them."
Xing Tang was dressed casually in a gray low-cut knit sweater, revealing a broad, bony collarbone. His hair was slightly messy, a few strands sticking up at the back. He looked relaxed, harmless, almost like a noble young master. Even the slightest lift of his eyelids could steal anyone's breath.
An Ting's eyes lingered on his exposed collarbone, delicate and refined, superior even to her own.
He casually pulled a trash can closer, rifled through it, and handed her a wedding invitation.
An Ting took it, puzzled. "What's this?"
"My former assistant's wedding," he said coldly.
"Didn't you say you weren't going?"
Xing Tang glanced at her. "You should be magnanimous. Don't you understand such an obvious principle?"
An Ting: "…"
He sat cross-legged on the sofa. "It takes three hours to get there. If you hurry, you might even see him stopped at the bride's door."
"What do I need to prepare?"
"That's a good question." He looked at her expressionlessly. "If I knew the answer, why would I need an assistant?"
An Ting suppressed a laugh at the thought: yesterday he had praised her as the most beautiful person in his eyes, and today he was already a ruthless exploiter.
Quickly, she composed herself and smiled. "Boss, where's your walk-in closet?"
"In the innermost bedroom."
Following his directions, she found the bedroom. It was simply decorated, dominated by a large bed and a massive walk-in closet.
Upon opening the closet, she froze at the sheer volume of men's clothing. Everything was organized by suits, casual wear, and fashion wear. Ties and cufflinks filled drawers. Luxury watches had their own space—any one of them six figures or more. The entire closet radiated unattainable wealth.
Her thoughts drifted to the cramped closet at her school, filled with thirty-yuan Taobao dresses. She felt a pang of sourness, but continued packing a suitcase with clothes, ties, watches, and two bottles of his perfume.
She returned to the lobby. "Are there any requirements for toiletries?"
"No special requirements. Lin Meng should have prepared them."
An Ting raised an eyebrow at the name. Lin Meng… my former assistant.
Just then, the doorbell rang. An Ting went to open it and found Xiao Gong carrying multiple bags.
"Here, the boss asked me to bring these for you so you won't embarrass him when you go out," he said, shoving the bags into her arms.
"Isn't it the weekend? Are you working too?"
"I went to bed at eight and set an alarm. I guessed the boss would change his mind, and sure enough…" Xiao Gong muttered.
"I was woken up at 5:30," An Ting said, feeling comforted.
Xiao Gong pouted. "Why can you sleep half an hour longer than me?"
"Five or five-thirty—what's the difference?"
Xing Tang, peeling an orange in the hall, interjected coolly: "Do you two have too much time on your hands?"
Xiao Gong shushed and shuffled over to start styling him.
An Ting, used to models and celebrities, marveled at the attention to detail. One bag contained high-end women's clothing—Miu Miu, Gucci, and even custom-tailored pieces—plus a Piaget watch and matching jewelry set. Enough outfits for a week.
"This is for me?" she asked, astonished.
Xing Tang glanced at her breakfast without looking up. "Are you planning to wear that cheap Taobao outfit for less than two hundred yuan? Absolutely not. I don't want to introduce you to my former assistant like that. And why did I still find sugar in the plain porridge I told Lin Meng to make?"
Xiao Gong explained the mishap, and Xing Tang sighed. "Eight years of training wasted because he left to raise chickens, ducks, and his wife. Now I need a versatile assistant in no time. He left me a very perplexing problem."
An Ting set her suitcase down for inspection. Xing Tang noticed her attention to detail—the perfume tucked in the corner—and nodded. "Good memory."
She had packed enough clothing for multiple outfits, anticipating that the former assistant might allow the boss to stay overnight. Xing Tang, amused, allowed it.
Once Xiao Gong finished styling him, An Ting changed into a burgundy dress he had recommended. Her short, curled hair, sharp eyeliner, and the dress amplified her aloof, commanding aura.
Xing Tang glanced at her and froze. "Not bad. That's exactly the sharp aura you need to give your opponent an overwhelming advantage."
Xiao Gong whispered in disbelief, "Boss, is that all you think about An Ting?"
"What else?" Xing Tang replied coldly.
He approached An Ting, looked her up and down, and gave her a meaningful look.
An Ting understood immediately. "To… confront your former assistant?"
"Don't imitate Xiao Gong's phrasing. Lin Meng is my former assistant," he clarified.
"Okay… take him down?"
Xing Tang nodded. "Time to set off."
As they left, An Ting sighed. Her new boss could be serious at times, but she understood. She didn't hold a grudge against Lin Meng; she just couldn't get over the way he left.
In the car, Xing Tang drove. Xiao Gong instinctively moved to the back.
An Ting opened the rear door. "I'll sit in the front," Xing Tang said.
She complied, pulling out her phone to navigate, her gaze meeting his for a brief, knowing moment.