Chapter 92 – Extra: The Drone Bees. Lian Qiao & Gu Yunlang
Before long, Gu Yunlang and Lian Qiao arrived as well.
CEOs gathered with CEOs; secretaries exchanged industry intel with fellow secretaries.
Secretary Liu saw four super-secretaries standing in a circle and really wanted to join them, but their aura was too strong. Even though they were clearly keeping a polite social distance, it felt as airtight as a swarm—so dense not even a bee could get in. Somehow, he felt he couldn’t squeeze himself in.
Yes, airtight as a swarm—so airtight that not even a honeybee could slip through. If he forced his way in, he’d just look like an annoying fly.
Secretary Liu was a dignified man. If he couldn’t squeeze in, then he wouldn’t. He had his own network anyway.
At that moment, two worker bees were demonstrating how to be a good secretary.
How to look convincing.
How to deal with the scheming and infighting in the secretarial office.
How to push away work that wasn’t yours to do.
The key point to all of it was this: always pull your CEO out as a tiger’s skin—your banner and shield.
Lian Qiao and Xiang Jin: “……”
Lin Xilan said, “I can’t interfere in another group’s internal affairs, so when you have work, it’s best to dump it back on your own boss.”
….
Fu Jin and Gu Yunlang chatted amiably with old acquaintances while keeping an eye on their own secretaries.
Fu Jin glanced at Lu Lou and Lu Yushu beside him. For some reason, he suddenly felt as if he and the Lu brothers were brothers-in-law.
Hiss—was that an illusion? Had he subconsciously taken Lu the Third as his own brother, and therefore developed a brotherly sense even toward that brother’s brothers?
Fu Jin, an only child, fell into deep thought. So this was how much he longed for siblings?
…
A bee finds its value in work.
This was something the worker bees often said. Xiang Jin used to scoff at it, but thinking about it now, it actually made some sense.
Going out to work had its perks: it wasn’t boring anymore; he liked the communal cafeteria—even if it was noisy, bees themselves weren’t a quiet species anyway, their wings buzzed day and night. He could see his dear companions; and if he worked during the day, he didn’t have to work at night and could sleep peacefully.
Xiang Jin followed his work plan to the letter, afraid that if he loosened his grip even a little, he’d cause trouble for Lian Qiao by being compared. From his observations—no, he didn’t even need to observe; the bee intelligence network had told him—President Fu and President Gu had definitely met in private. Oh yes, and they’d gone to see Lu Xiao over the worker bee matter.
Xiang Jin felt awkward, like he hadn’t done his job well and Fu Jin had gone to complain to his superior. His superior was the Queen Bee. The Queen Bee was off filming, and it was his partner who handled the matter.
Xiang Jin said solemnly to Fu Jin, “You can fire me directly. You’re not allowed to complain.”
Fu Jin said, “I had no intention of complaining.” He’d just been too stifled to vent it elsewhere, and instinctively felt Lu Xiao would give him an explanation. Lu Xiao didn’t, but Fu Jin took the advice to heart and decided to adopt a trust strategy toward his wife.
You could be jealous—but don’t casually doubt your wife.
Xiang Jin said, “After the banquet, no secretary sleeps in the same room as their boss. I’ll ask Xilan to open another room for me.”
Fu Jin said, “Who says there isn’t?!”
Xiang Jin: “Hm?”
Fu Jin: “Lu Lou and Lu Yushu—don’t they sleep in the same presidential suite as their secretaries?”
Xiang Jin tilted his head and thought. “They’ve met the parents, they’re a blessed couple. They’re lovers—not like us, just a simple CEO-and-secretary relationship.”
Fu Jin said, “They were just as ‘simple’ as us in the beginning.”
What exactly is simple about a secretary who doesn’t work and a CEO who helps the secretary do the work?
Xiang Jin curled his lips. “It’s different.”
Worker bees and drone bees—your secretary species aren’t the same, you know.
Fu Jin said, “How is it different?”
Xiang Jin said, “Not telling you.”
Fu Jin thought that sounded a bit like sulking or acting coy, and he couldn’t even get mad.
“Forget it. This is a suite—there are plenty of rooms. Pick one and sleep there. I won’t go into your room.” He’d already realized that the three-thousand-a-month contract was a trap; rescinding it was just as well.
Starting from zero was better than seeming to score a hundred on the surface while actually meaning you’re about to graduate, now get lost.
His pursuit felt like it was veiled by gauze. Many people stood behind that gauze watching the show. If Xiang Jin didn’t lift it himself, Fu Jin could only wait patiently like an outsider.
But wasn’t that more interesting?
No—actually, not very interesting at all, President Fu thought as he lay awake alone. Human habits were terrifying. He was already unaccustomed to sleeping without someone beside him.
……
Spring and autumn were the seasons for swarming—the time for new queen bees to take their nuptial flight. They would choose a sunny day to go out in search of drones.
Which meant that at the same time, drone bees would also be driven by instinct encoded in their genes, leaving the hive to fulfill their mission.
In other words, twice a year, even the laziest drone would feel a surge of primal desire in his body. Fear of mating suppressed the heat, but sometimes not very well. He just wanted to hold someone while sleeping.
Xiang Jin hugged a pillow, sleeping himself into a sheen of fragrant sweat.
His cheeks were flushed, like he’d just come out of a hot spring. He stared beneath the pillow for a while, pressed his lips together, and awkwardly went to the bathroom.
Having stayed too long among the sexually indifferent worker bees, Xiang Jin was both afraid of and embarrassed by desire.
Bai He and Xilan didn’t have this trouble, which allowed them to be better secretaries.
When he came out of the bathroom, his face was still hot.
The door wasn’t fully shut. Through the crack, he glimpsed the fridge in the suite’s living room and wanted to grab a cold drink.
He opened the fridge, but there was no chilled orange juice or watermelon juice—only bottled water, sparkling wine, and cola.
Xiang Jin wasn’t interested in industrial beverages. After looking around, he picked a bottle of white-peach-flavored sparkling wine.
If Bai He were here, he’d tell him: you can just call the front desk and have them send up freshly squeezed juice.
Xiang Jin leaned against the sofa, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, staring at the glass bottle of sparkling wine in his hands. The chill was just right—but how was he supposed to open it?
He’d never drunk alcohol, but he knew he should find a bottle opener.
Too lazy to make another trip, Xiang Jin bit the cap with his lower teeth and applied a little force, easily prying it open. The scent of white-peach sparkling wine rushed up to his nose, and he sneezed softly.
He rubbed his nose, lifted the bottle, and took a bold swig.
Probably only the strongest worker bee, Meng Shancha, could drink with such gusto.
Xiang Jin drank half the bottle in one go, then picked up the snowflake nougat Lian Qiao had stuffed into his hands at the banquet. The sweetness of marshmallow wrapped around the aroma of peanuts, hazelnuts, and mixed nuts.
With peanuts to snack on, Xiang Jin felt even thirstier after finishing and went back to the fridge for a bottle of beer.
……
Fu Jin finally fell asleep, but kept hearing rustling noises from the living room. He dreamed of a stupid rabbit sneaking his alcohol, drinking until its belly got big.
He jolted awake. There really was a faint scent of alcohol lingering at his nose, drifting in through the not-quite-closed door crack, carrying a hint of sweetness.
Fu Jin hurried out of bed and stood at the bedroom door, scanning the darkness—and sure enough, he caught a little thief.
Three empty bottles sat on the table. Xiang Jin was still hugging one, probably unable to drink anymore, nibbling at the bottle mouth in small sips. His lips were moistened by alcohol and gleamed faintly in the dark.
Fu Jin’s first thought was that he was drinking to drown his sorrows. Could it be that he resisted work so much that after the daytime novelty wore off, he felt more and more aggrieved at night?
He walked over and squatted down, sliding a hand around Xiang Jin’s back and pulling the unsteady figure upright. “What’s wrong? Why are you drinking? Where does it feel bad?”
Xiang Jin frowned and tried to crawl away, escaping the warm embrace. “Too hot. Stay away from me.”
Fu Jin pressed his hand to Xiang Jin’s cheek and felt a wave of heat. “Do you have a fever?”
“No.”
Fu Jin said, “Then why are you drinking?”
Xiang Jin said, “I’m just too hot and wanted to cool down, but it seems even hotter.” Especially when Fu Jin came close—ten times hotter than before.
Fu Jin might not have eaten pork, but he’d seen pigs run. His face darkened instantly, suspecting Xiang Jin had drunk something spiked at the banquet.
He’d been too careless, assuming that with Lin Xilan around, nothing could go wrong. Xiang Jin was new to this kind of occasion and had no guard up…
He let Xiang Jin lean against him and picked him up. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“Don’t go to the hospital!” Xiang Jin sobered up immediately, face burning red as he struggled to jump down. Even a good-for-nothing drone couldn’t socially die in front of his own kind.
There were two worker bees living on the same floor. Going to the hospital would definitely alert them.
It wasn’t about soundproofing—it was just that their bee clan had an inexplicable sensing method of their own. When close enough, say, passing Lin Xilan’s door, if a worker bee wasn’t asleep, they’d know that this drone had finally decided to go out on a nuptial flight.
Could he gamble that a worker bee would already be asleep at two in the morning? No!
“Don’t move,” Fu Jin warned, pinning him with one hand while reaching for the phone on the table. “Struggling will only make it worse.”
Xiang Jin struggled anyway, both hands pushing at Fu Jin’s chest—like that lively fish from their first meeting, splashing and dragging someone into the water.
Before long, Fu Jin was dragged in again.
Xiang Jin froze, dumbfounded, and said, “I don’t need to go to the hospital. If you need to, you can go by yourself.”
“We’re adults—no need for someone to accompany you, right?” He tried changing tactics, wriggling free carefully.
Only then did Fu Jin realize that the person in his arms was actually extremely clear-headed—at most a little muddled by alcohol. It didn’t look like he’d been drugged with anything strange; it was more like he’d woken up from a spring dream.
“Right. Adults have adult solutions.” Fu Jin carried Xiang Jin into the bedroom. “No hospital. I’ll help you, okay?”
As soon as Xiang Jin was placed on the bed, he happened to see a thin crescent moon through a gap in the curtains and murmured blankly, “Tomorrow will be good weather.”
Fu Jin: ?
Xiang Jin collapsed on the bed and burst into tears, his crying tinged with a faint smell of alcohol. “I don’t want my little thing to break!”
Fu Jin: ?
He looked at his own hands. H-he hadn’t trained iron-sand palms or anything…
He pulled Xiang Jin up and wiped away his tears. “How would it break? What are you thinking?”
Xiang Jin looked at him with watery eyes.
Fu Jin said, “I guarantee—even if mine broke, yours wouldn’t.”
Xiang Jin said, “Really?”
Fu Jin said, “Mm.”
Xiang Jin asked suspiciously, “Is yours really that hard to break?”
Fu Jin felt a bit speechless but still said, “Of course.”
Xiang Jin hiccupped, tugged at his waistband, and said, “Is that so? Let me see.”
Fu Jin thought that after crying, he’d entered the stage of drunken antics.
