The second day always mattered more than the first.
Anyone could fake a good impression once. It was what came after—the daily routine, the slip-ups, the quiet cracks—that revealed who could actually survive.
Qin Zhi knew that well.
She'd spent the night reading every detail of Lu Shenyan's public schedule, memorizing department heads, and re-reading old press releases about his recent projects. She even watched a few interviews from business events, trying to understand the way he spoke, how he answered, and what he ignored.
He didn't like fluff.
He didn't like mistakes.
And he definitely didn't like attention.
She wasn't going to give him any of those.
---
She arrived at 8:25 AM, same as the day before.
The receptionist barely gave her a glance.
That was fine.
She took the elevator alone. The executive floor was as silent as a library.
At her desk outside his office, everything was just as she'd left it. Clean, sharp, untouched.
Qin Zhi set down her bag and straightened the files for the morning reports.
Then she turned toward the small coffee machine in the corner.
Black. No sugar. No second chances.
She remembered his words clearly.
She made the coffee carefully. Slowly. Measured the water level. Cleaned the cup twice. Didn't touch the rim. Let it cool for ten seconds so it wouldn't burn his tongue.
He probably wouldn't say thank you.
But she wasn't making it for thanks.
She was making it because she didn't plan to give him any reason to doubt her.
---
At 8:59, the elevator dinged.
She didn't even have to look up.
She could feel it in the way the air shifted—quiet pressure, like a cold breeze sneaking in under the door.
Lu Shenyan passed her desk without a glance.
Black suit. No tie today. Crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled once at the forearm.
Effortless.
He entered his office. Closed the door.
Qin Zhi waited exactly thirty seconds before picking up the cup.
Then she knocked.
"Come in," his voice said through the door.
She stepped inside.
---
He was already seated at his desk, scanning something on his screen. His tablet and phone sat in perfect alignment beside a closed file.
The man loved order.
Without saying a word, she walked over and placed the coffee on the coaster in front of him.
He didn't look up.
She turned to leave.
"Sit," he said.
She blinked.
Again?
She turned and sat down in the same chair as the day before, keeping her back straight and her hands in her lap.
Still, he didn't look at her.
He picked up the coffee, took a sip, paused, then took another.
No complaints.
That was a win.
---
"I have a call at ten," he said. "With the Jin Group's project director."
She nodded. "I've already reviewed the file. It's scheduled for a thirty-minute Zoom call. I've added the notes to your tablet."
"Good," he said.
Still no smile. No expression.
But at least no criticism.
He took another sip and looked up at her.
His gaze was unreadable.
She held it.
This time, she didn't flinch.
---
"You didn't ask where the coffee cups were," he said.
"I found them."
"You didn't ask how I take it."
"You told me yesterday."
His eyes narrowed just slightly, not in anger—but in observation.
"You listen well."
"I try," she said.
Another pause.
"Most people ask too many questions," he said.
"I've learned not to."
"You don't think that's dangerous?"
She blinked. "No. I think people who listen survive longer."
A flicker passed across his face.
Was that… approval?
It disappeared too quickly to be sure.
---
"You can go," he said.
She stood, bowed her head slightly, and walked out.
As she closed the door, her hand trembled just slightly around the handle.
Not from fear.
But from the strange tension she felt every time they spoke.
Like a thread pulling tight between them. Not quite snapping. Not quite breaking.
Just there.
---
Back at her desk, she returned to the screen and opened the memo draft for the afternoon meeting.
Halfway through typing, she paused and looked at her hand.
It was still steady.
That was good.
She needed to stay steady.
Because if working beside Lu Shenyan for even five minutes was this intense… she had no idea how she'd last thirty days.
---
By noon, she had already answered seven internal calls, sorted two urgent files, and rescheduled one of his meetings with the PR team without needing to bother him.
She overheard someone passing by whisper, "That's the new secretary?"
"She hasn't been fired yet?"
"She won't last two weeks."
Qin Zhi smiled to herself and kept typing.
Let them talk.
Let them doubt.
She didn't need anyone's approval.
Only her own.
---
At 3:00 PM, Lu Shenyan left his office for a department briefing.
He didn't speak to her as he passed.
But she noticed something strange.
He didn't take the coffee cup with him.
It was still sitting on the desk, nearly empty.
And next to it, a tiny post-it note had been stuck to the coaster.
She hadn't put it there.
Carefully, she stepped into the office, walked around the desk, and glanced at the note.
Four words.
"Not bad. Keep steady."
Her eyes widened.
No signature.
No smiley face.
Just plain black ink in sharp, elegant handwriting.
But from him, it might as well have been a compliment shouted from a rooftop.
---
She didn't take the note.
She left it where it was.
She didn't need to show anyone.
She'd remember it on her own.
Because in a place where silence was power and words were weapons…
A small note from Lu Shenyan was the beginning of something.
She just didn't know what.
Not yet.