After finishing their meal, Chen Jian headed back to the office with Shan Yu. He had sat through lunch with a head full of dripping hair; despite the indoor heating, the ground floor was vast and open, leaving his scalp feeling chilled the entire time.
Yet by the time Shan Yu retrieved the blow-dryer for him, he discovered his hair had already air-dried for the most part.
“Still want to dry it?” Shan Yu asked.
“Forget it,” Chen Jian stood before the mirror, raking a hand through his locks. “It’s already dry.”
“Blow a little style into it,” Shan Yu said.
“Even if I style it, the second I put my beanie on, any shape gets squashed flat anyway,” Chen Jian replied.
“Do you usually pull a beanie over soaking wet hair?!” Shan Yu cupped the back of his head, nudging him closer to the glass. “Look at yourself—does your hair look like that when you take off your hat on a normal day?”
“Fine, fine, I’ll dry it…” Chen Jian picked up the dryer and gave his head a brisk blast. Luckily, his hair had poor plasticity; a few quick gusts returned it straight to its usual mop of curls.
Leaning against the desk, Shan Yu stood looking down at his phone.
“Reporting work to Director Lu?” Chen Jian asked.
Shan Yu looked up, swept a glance across his face, and laughed: “Nope.”
“Wh—” Chen Jian paused, caught on, and scrambled to clarify, “This is an official inquiry! Not a drop of vinegar in it!”
“Right,” Shan Yu murmured.
“Seriously!” Chen Jian raised his voice.
“And I’m genuinely not reporting on work either,” Shan Yu said. “I’m setting up training for you guys.”
“Training?” Chen Jian leaned in close to his phone screen right away. “What kind of training?”
“Hospitality service training,” Shan Yu said. “An instructor is coming this Thursday and Friday. Work out the schedule so the staff can take classes in two rotating batches.”
Chen Jian looked at him: “I thought I’d just dig up some materials, study first, and then train them myself?”
“Far too inefficient,” Shan Yu said. “Your role as store manager is infinitely more valuable than an instructor’s; wasting your time hitting the books first makes zero sense.”
“Business isn’t so crazy right now that the store manager doesn’t have a spare hour or two,” Chen Jian said. “This training costs money, doesn’t it?”
“Someone made an introduction, so we got a discount on the training fee,” Shan Yu said.
“Introduced by who?” Chen Jian asked.
Shan Yu cleared his throat: “Lu Yun.”
“Whoa!” Chen Jian yelled.
Shan Yu looked at him.
“What?” Chen Jian asked.
“Usually, with this kind of jealousy,” Shan Yu smiled, “how long does a bout last?”
“Don’t know,” Chen Jian said. “First time having a taste of it myself.”
“Let me keep a tally for you.” Shan Yu tapped open his notes app. “This morning, let’s say from nine to eleven—two full hours of stewing. Right now it’s one-thirty in the afternoon…”
“This one doesn’t count,” Chen Jian laughed out loud. “I’m already done.”
“Fair enough. Anything under ten minutes won’t go on the clock.” Shan Yu nodded.
Before Chen Jian could reply, the walkie-talkie at his waist chirped.
“Store Manager Chen,” Hu Pan’s voice crackled through. “Everyone’s here.”
“From now on, this thing is banned from my office,” Shan Yu pointed at the device.
“Understood,” Chen Jian smiled, bringing the walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Be right down.”
“The store manager is so busy,” Shan Yu teased.
“Are you joining the meeting?” Chen Jian asked.
“To let the employees speak their minds freely,” Shan Yu said, “I won’t crash the party. Just give me a rundown after you’re done.”
“Mm.” Chen Jian nodded, took two steps toward the door, and halted.
He spun right back around, wrapped his arms around Shan Yu, and planted a firm kiss on his cheek.
He turned toward the door a second time, and halted once more.
Pausing to think, he pivoted back, buried his face into Shan Yu’s neck, and nuzzled him hard twice.
Then he turned toward the door a third time.
Still lingering, unable to pull himself away.
Just as his feet hovered on the verge of stopping yet again, Shan Yu’s voice drifted from behind: “I’m gonna smack you!”
Chen Jian sprang forward with a laugh, threw open the door, and bolted out.
For the inn’s crew, a staff meeting was basically indistinguishable from an afternoon tea party.
When Chen Jian walked into the cafe, they were already settled around two pushed-together tables, complete with coffee and small snacks laid out.
“Let’s start,” Chen Jian sat down in the chair reserved for him, pulling out his notebook and flipping it open. “We’re holding this meeting today mainly because town tourism is taking off. As foot traffic grows, more guesthouses will definitely pop up. We need to formalize Dayin’s management starting now…”
“Honestly, our service is already way better than the places further in,” Sanbing chimed in.
“Don’t measure yourself against a midget,” Chen Jian said. “Our goal is to make Dayin even better. So today, I want everyone to bring up any shortcomings you’ve noticed during daily operations—whether in management, service, or hardware facilities, anything goes.”
“Are we doing a full overhaul?” Chen Erhu asked.
“Fix what we can, review what we can’t,” Chen Jian said. “A professional instructor is coming this Thursday and Friday to train us…”
“Will this cause infighting?” Lao Wu asked. “Like, if I point out something the front desk does poorly, will Panpan and Nana chew me out?”
“Try bringing one up and see what happens,” Hu Pan dared him.
“Constructive suggestions only, no punishments. If you bring up baseless nonsense, you deserve to get chewed out,” Chen Jian said. “If your point is valid, they will…”
Chen Jian cast a glance at Hu Pan and Sun Nana.
“Listen with an open mind, of course,” Sun Nana smoothed her hair back.
“Alright, who goes first?” Chen Jian asked.
Silence fell across the table; everyone simply stared at him.
“I’ll start, then,” Chen Jian said.
“Main thing is, we don’t really know what counts as a shortcoming,” Lao Si admitted with genuine honesty.
“You count as one,” Sanbing fired back.
Lao Si glared at him.
“Strictly speaking,” Chen Erhu remarked, “we all count.”
“Stop talking out of your asses,” Chen Jian said. “I’ll raise the first point—cleanliness. I hope whoever spots a mess deals with it on the fly. For instance, out by the parking bays: some guests leave trash right beside their cars. Don’t wait for whoever is on cleaning duty that day to notice it. If you walk past and see it, sweep it up, otherwise it looks terrible when the next guest pulls in.”
“Mm,” Sun Nana nodded. “That makes sense. Sometimes when a table clears in the cafe and I’m swamped at the front desk, I can’t get over to wipe it down immediately. If anyone walking by could carry the dirty mugs to the sink on their way, that’d be ideal…”
Chen Jian jotted the point down.
“Being more proactive with guest requests would be great too—having a bit of situational awareness,” Hu Pan added. “Like the other day when a guest was searching for something in the dining area for ages. I only found out she lost a hairpin when I walked over to ask. Lao Wu was just leaning against the dining room door watching her the whole time, never once stepping up to offer help.”
“Strike first to gain the upper hand, Panpan,” Lao Wu muttered.
“Things like that might seem minor, but it makes a world of difference to a guest,” Sanbing said.
Lao Wu cut him a sideways glare.
Brothers turning on each other over love.
Could this be turned into a web series…? What on earth am I thinking!
“Details like that definitely need attention,” Chen Jian reeled his wandering thoughts back in.
“What were you doing at the time anyway?” Chen Erhu asked Lao Wu.
“…Watching her look for her stuff,” Lao Wu answered.
Chen Jian couldn’t help laughing.
“We truly are the biggest shortcoming,” Chen Erhu sighed profoundly.
“That’s service awareness,” Sun Nana said. “None of us have professional experience or training, so having rough edges is normal. That’s the whole point of this meeting.”
“Exactly!” Hu Pan applauded.
With the ice broken, everyone’s minds opened up, and suggestions—useful and trivial, sound and absurd—began flooding the floor.
They started with front-of-house service: under what circumstances luggage should be carried for guests, when room service requests can be accommodated, and how to refuse unreasonable demands without escalating into conflict…
“On that note, Boss Shan is a textbook counterexample…” Lao Wu glanced toward the elevator. “Never mind unreasonable demands—even perfectly reasonable requests get shut down by him with zero tact whatsoever.”
“Pfft,” Hu Pan burst out laughing, looking at Chen Jian. “Is this going in the meeting minutes?”
“…Yes, Boss Shan has to read them,” Chen Jian nodded, pen scratching against paper.
“I retract my statement,” Lao Wu said instantly.
“Too late,” Chen Jian said.
“I’m done for,” Lao Wu slumped against his chair. “Chen Jian, do you have a personal vendetta against me?”
“Get over yourself,” Chen Erhu said. “You’ve worked here this long and still don’t get it? People roast him to his face on a daily basis and he doesn’t bat an eye. Why sweat raising a legitimate point?”
“This genuinely is an area where the boss needs improvement,” Chen Jian said.
“If we actually tell him,” Lao Si pondered briefly, “will he just refuse to come downstairs altogether?”
It seemed everyone had an accurate read on their employer.
Following service etiquette, physical amenities were brought to the table.
The red-brick curbs by the entrance were chipped and broken from tires driving over them and needed more durable, load-bearing materials; trash bins in the kitchen and dining area were insufficient; there weren’t enough garden benches to handle peak crowds…
Chen Jian noted down every single item. Useful or trivial, big or small, as long as someone raised it, it stood a chance of being an area ripe for refinement.
Just as the discussion reached a lively peak, Sun Nana’s phone rang.
She pulled it out, glanced at the screen, muted it, and shoved it back into her pocket.
“Go ahead and take it, it’s fine,” Chen Jian said.
“Not answering,” Sun Nana’s face turned icy cold.
Chen Jian didn’t press the matter. Judging by her reaction, it was almost certainly her soon-to-be ex-husband. He had called once before the New Year too, and Sun Nana had ignored it back then as well.
“Is it that ex-husband named Zhang?” Chen Erhu asked without the slightest reservation.
“Mm,” Sun Nana furrowed her brow.
“Calling about finalizing the divorce after the holidays?” Sanbing asked.
“He refuses to sign,” Sun Nana said. “I already told him we’ll see each other in court. There’s nothing left to discuss.”
“What an exhausting nuisance,” Hu Pan rested her chin on her hand. “You guys have no idea. That Zhang guy is getting more unhinged by the day. Claiming Nana has psychiatric problems—he’s the one in terminal stages. Watching him gives me wedding phobia.”
“If you can avoid marriage, don’t marry. It has zero value,” Sun Nana said. “The male demographic baseline is hopeless.”
“What’s a ‘male demographic baseline’?” Lao Wu asked.
“Us,” Chen Jian said.
“Nana, that’s a bit…” Lao Wu glanced at the men gathered around the table, hesitating. “At least Chen Jian and Shan Yu are pretty great.”
“Thanks for that,” Chen Jian muttered.
Sun Nana burst into a chuckle: “Ugh, you guys are annoying.”
The phone in her pocket vibrated twice—an incoming text message.
Irritated, Sun Nana pulled it out to check. Her expression shifted instantly—not merely impatient anymore, but laced with a sudden flicker of raw panic.
“What happened?” Chen Jian asked immediately.
“He seems to be in town,” Sun Nana turned the phone screen toward them.
Displayed was a photograph of the Hongye Town road sign, taken right outside Tang Rui’s auto repair shop.
He actually tracked her down here?
“Holy shit!” Chen Erhu slammed his palm onto the table, jumping to his feet. “When was that sent? Is he here already?”
“Just now,” Sun Nana said.
“I’ll go check the entrance,” Chen Erhu spun around and headed straight for the doors.
Sanbing and the others scrambled up immediately, not even bothering to push their chairs back, vaulting over the backrests in one swift leap.
The menacing aura flared instantly.
“He probably hasn’t found the inn yet; he should still be on the road,” Sun Nana stood up, pacing in tight, dizzy circles on the spot as if looking for something. “I have to go. Can’t let him come here—I need to block him on the road.”
“What are you looking for?” Hu Pan asked.
“I don’t know,” Sun Nana dragged a chair aside and turned half a circle, looking dazed. “Didn’t Shan Yu’s baseball bat used to sit on the ground floor?”
“Moved to his office ages ago,” Chen Jian steadied her arm. “Nana, it’s okay. We’re all here. He can’t do anything to you.”
“There’s a cleaver in the kitchen,” Zhao Fangfang suddenly volunteered.
“Zhao-jie?!” Chen Jian stared at her in utter shock.
“Hey, don’t add fuel to the fire!” Sister Huang slapped Zhao Fangfang’s arm hastily.
Sun Nana usually carried herself entirely normally; you would never associate her with any kind of mental health struggle. But her current state looked strikingly similar to that day at the restaurant when they ran into Zhang—disoriented, bewildered, unmoored. Seeing it now, Chen Jian realized her condition certainly couldn’t be described as fully stable.
That man acted like a downward toggle switch for her psyche.
“Panpan, take her back to the dorms,” Chen Jian ordered.
“Got it,” Hu Pan wrapped an arm around Sun Nana. “Come on, let’s head back to the dorm.”
“No,” Sun Nana looked back at Chen Jian, her eyes sharpening slightly. “He knows I’m dead set on divorcing him this time. He’s totally unhinged—he’s here to cause trouble.”
“Are we afraid of trouble?” Chen Jian walked toward the entrance. “Where does he even rank among the messes we’ve handled?”
Up on the fourth floor sits a living AI machine specialized in manufacturing and pulverizing trouble in one go.
Afraid of what?
“Not here yet,” Chen Erhu and the guys walked back into the courtyard from the street. “What’s the plan?”
“Intercept him,” Chen Jian said. “Don’t let him get near the inn.”
Even though business was relatively quiet these days, seven or eight rooms were still occupied. Letting that man make a scene right at their doorstep would be terrible for business; they weren’t the scrappy, newly opened inn from months ago anymore.
“Let’s move,” Chen Erhu said.
The group mounted their motorcycles in unison, the engines roaring to life as they sped out through the courtyard gate.
Once on the main thoroughfare, Sanbing, Lao Si, and Lao Wu fanned out abreast in the front row, with Chen Jian and Chen Erhu trailing right behind—roaring toward the town intersection in a 3-2 staggered formation.
Without Chen Jian, their setup would have been a 3-1 or 2-2. Chen Jian deeply admired the Pigpen Gang’s uncanny coordination when it came to completely pointless flexing.
Holding a box of mealworms in one hand and feeding tongs in the other, Shan Yu leaned against the window, watching five roaring motorcycles shoot out of the courtyard gate.
He couldn’t resist clicking his tongue.
Pretty exciting.
Such thrilling action, and the store manager ran off to play without taking him along.
Just as he turned back to resume feeding Erge, a rapid knock hammered against the office door—thump, thump, thump—unmistakably Hu Pan.
“Come in,” he called out, setting the mealworms down.
“Boss Shan,” Hu Pan poked her head inside. “Got something to report to you.”
“Mm,” Shan Yu acknowledged.
“Nana’s ex-husband seems to have shown up,” Hu Pan said. “The guys just rode out to intercept him, worried he’d make a scene at the inn. They want to cut him off on the road.”
“Mm,” Shan Yu nodded.
Hu Pan clutched the doorframe, watching him.
“What?” Shan Yu looked back at her. “Just one ex-husband. If it comes down to fists, the five of them could pound him into dust. I don’t need to go, do I?”
“No, no, no, not that,” Hu Pan waved her hands hurriedly. “Just… this was an emergency. I hope you aren’t upset.”
“Do I have that bad of a temper?” Shan Yu smiled faintly. “It’s fine. Go keep Nana company.”
“Mm,” Hu Pan nodded. “Thank you, Boss.”
Shan Yu went back to feeding Erge.
Sun Nana’s situation wasn’t truly a major crisis; dealing with it was just deeply disgusting.
Help was definitely going to be given—from the perspective of a friend, it had to be; from the perspective of a heartless capitalist, it had to be as well.
I’d watch their web series in a heartbeat 😂