Chapter 6

He Liangwen stormed into the office, his face red with anger, and the first thing out of his mouth was a demand: "Where's Guan Yingying?" "She went to the restroom, I think," someone replied. "I saw her take her cup to refill water," another added. "No, I think she took her meal card and headed to the cafeteria." Everyone seemed to have a different recollection. He Liangwen, unwilling to take chances, checked every single place himself. Still, no sign of Guan Yingying. By the time he returned, he was drenched in sweat and panting heavily. Someone finally asked the question everyone was curious about. "Xiao He, why was the boss yelling at you earlier?" He Liangwen’s face darkened as he spoke, each word laced with bitterness. "Guan Yingying sent my design drafts to the client without confirming with me. The proposal was rejected outright, and the client is now reconsidering working with us altogether." There was a brief moment of stunned silence before someone tried to console him. "That’s not entirely on you. You were handed this project last minute, and given the tight timeline and lack of manpower, it’s understandable if the client wasn’t satisfied." He Liangwen’s expression twisted, and he kicked over his chair in frustration. "The problem is entirely her fault! "She edited my data without telling me! The ceiling height is three meters, but she changed the door dimensions to five meters. Who the hell has doors taller than the building? "And the bathroom stalls! She made each cubicle 30 centimeters wide! Do you even know what that means? That’s barely longer than an A4 sheet of paper! How is anyone supposed to fit their ass in there?!" The room erupted into muffled laughter, but no one dared to laugh openly. "Because of her meddling, what should’ve been a strong proposal became a joke. The client didn’t just reject it; they politely suggested I submit it to a sci-fi or abstract art competition. Can you believe that?" I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. Honestly, He Liangwen’s client might have a better sense of humor than he does. Shi Ming patted He Liangwen’s shoulder sympathetically. "Bro, suddenly redoing my drafts doesn’t seem so bad. Hang in there." The group huddled together, brainstorming ways to salvage the situation. I coughed lightly, drawing their attention. "If I remember correctly, didn’t you all delegate your tasks to Guan Yingying?" Everyone froze, their faces pale as if realizing they’d just shot themselves in the foot. Right then, the department supervisor appeared at the door, looking grim. He began calling names, one by one. "Those I just called, line up and see me in my office." The list was extensive—every single person except me. Inside the supervisor’s office, anguished cries echoed loudly enough for the entire floor to hear. Shi Ming went in after He Liangwen and emerged with a face as dark as a thundercloud. Next was Chu Qing from HR, followed by Manager He Yuan, and then Assistant Zhu Yang. By the time everyone had taken their turn, the collective mood in the room was as bleak as a stormy sky. Finally, the supervisor walked back into the office to announce the punishment. "To everyone I just called, your year-end bonuses are halved. Additionally, none of you are allowed to request leave on New Year’s Eve." Shi Ming was the first to cry foul. "Boss, this wasn’t my fault! It was the new secretary! She’s the one messing everything up. She’s completely incompetent, and we’re all paying the price!" His outburst opened the floodgates, and soon everyone was piling on accusations against Guan Yingying. The supervisor sneered. "And why hasn’t Li Xi made any mistakes? "You lazy veterans dumped your work on a fresh graduate, expecting her to handle everything. Then, when things went wrong, you blamed her. Do you think I’m stupid?" The room fell silent, and no one dared to speak further. "Let me make this clear. Guan Yingying is a secretary, fresh out of school, and not even a full-time employee yet. Did you really expect her to competently manage all your workloads? "For the next month, none of you will have weekends off until every outstanding issue is resolved." The collective groans and protests were pitiful, their despair palpable. Meanwhile, I leaned back in my chair, feeling utterly refreshed, like I’d just completed a triathlon of schadenfreude.