Chapter 3 – Returning
After finishing the meeting, Lu Heng returned to his office.
He lowered his head and glanced at his suit, only then noticing a small tuft of silver fur stuck to his sleeve.
He brushed at it lightly, but the fur was firmly clinging to the fabric. He pinched it between his fingers.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Lu Heng flicked the fur away. The tiny tuft drifted down slowly before landing on the floor.
“President Lu, this is the information you requested on Lin Yan.”
Lu Heng accepted the file and carefully reviewed Lin Yan’s personal profile.
Lin Yan, major in Computer Science, postgraduate student at N University, graduate of a prestigious school, fully certified. Not only did he hold patents, he had also won multiple awards.
It was indeed an outstanding résumé.
Lu Heng continued scanning and paused at the awards section. The contents were highly relevant to the project he had recently taken on. Assigning it to Lin Yan might be a good choice.
He had been worrying about the lack of a suitable candidate for the project.
Closing the folder, Lu Heng handed the documents to his secretary.
“Assign the latest Haicheng project to Lin Yan.”
The secretary hesitated for a few seconds.
“President Lu, Lin Yan was only just confirmed as a full employee, and he has no project-leading experience. Wouldn’t it be inappropriate to hand such a project to him directly?”
Lu Heng did not look up.
The secretary waited for his response.
Lu Heng glanced at the company regulations placed on the left side of his desk. He had established those rules himself — if they were to be broken, it could only start with him.
Understanding his secretary’s concern, he looked back at the résumé and said, “There’s no problem with giving it to him.”
The secretary understood.
When Lu Heng had drafted the regulations, he had already considered this situation. He had added several supplementary clauses, one of which stated that anyone who had achieved notable success in a certain field could directly serve as the project leader in that area.
No one was more rigorous than Lu Heng.
Meanwhile, Lu Heng was thinking about how to return the clothes to Lin Yan. Keeping someone else’s suit was not appropriate.
In the end, he decided to leave early, return the clothes, and then go home.
He deliberately checked the employees’ daily clock-in records. Lin Yan usually didn’t leave work until after ten at night.
Mmm. Quite hardworking.
Lu Heng thought it over. He had only kept the cat for one night — there shouldn’t be much attachment yet. Now was the most suitable time to leave.
“President Lu, you were looking for me.”
Just as Lu Heng stood up, Zhao Ming knocked and entered after receiving permission. Lu Heng raised his eyes and handed him the project proposal prepared by the secretary.
“This project will be handled by your department.”
Zhao Ming happily accepted the proposal, already thinking about whom to assign it to. He had been scolded by President Lu that morning and thought the project would no longer fall to him. Unexpectedly, it was still placed in his hands.
He scanned the document and saw that the project leader field already had a name written in it. Zhao Ming’s smile instantly froze.
“Would it be inappropriate to let Lin Yan directly serve as the project leader?” Zhao Ming asked with a polite smile.
A smile on his face, yet a knife hidden behind it — the eyes behind the lenses concealed emotions that could not be put into words.
Lu Heng maintained his cold expression, his face showing little fluctuation, revealing none of his feelings. But Zhao Ming, sitting across from him, knew that President Lu was somewhat displeased.
However, since Zhao Ming had already started the topic, he had no intention of withdrawing. He changed his approach and said more tactfully,
“Mainly, he was only confirmed as a full employee last week. If we let him take charge directly, the others in the department will have objections. That also makes it difficult for me to manage.”
Lu Heng looked at Zhao Ming with interest. He understood clearly in his heart: his father’s sudden passing and his own abrupt takeover of the group had left most of the veteran employees unconvinced. The rules he established were merely to win people over. The formation of any system would inevitably cause losses; otherwise, it would be impossible to enforce. The most direct impact would be the company’s interests.
Once the system was implemented, Lu Heng killed the chicken to warn the monkeys — he laid off a veteran employee, and only then did the others settle down. Yet dissatisfaction still lingered in their hearts; they had simply hidden it away.
Zhao Ming’s words were filled with complaint, both overt and subtle.
“Director Zhao,” Lu Heng let out a cold chuckle. “Are you teaching me how to manage my team?”
Zhao Ming stiffened at once, overwhelmed by Lu Heng’s presence. Relying on his status as a long-time employee, Zhao Ming often played the emotional card. He rarely handled matters personally, instead passing everything down to his subordinates.
“No, no, of course not, President Lu.” Zhao Ming forced an awkward smile.
“I just felt it might not be appropriate, so I came to ask whether it should really be handed over to Lin Yan.”
Lu Heng stood up, clearly having no intention of continuing the discussion.
“He’s in your department. You know his résumé better than anyone. Whether he’s suitable or not — you should know.”
After leaving those words behind, Lu Heng offered no further response.
Zhao Ming narrowed his eyes and tugged at the corners of his mouth, barely managing to say,
“President Lu really thinks things through more thoroughly. I was being too rigid.”
…
The online community exploded again.
yy Genius Representative: [Project leader Lin Yan, treat us to a big meal.]
cx, Little Angel: [Why call him Lin Yan? He’s Engineer Lin now.]
Wang Hao Is a Handsome Guy: [Engineer Lin, I want barbecue.]
Lin Yan was in a pet supply store picking out items the cat would need. He took photos of everything and sent them one by one to Wang Hao.
Wang Hao was the only person he knew who had raised a cat. Whenever he couldn’t make up his mind, he would ask him for advice.
Lin Yan selected several cans of cat food of different sizes. The advertisements were all extravagantly flattering, and the reviews were mixed. Unable to decide, he simply photographed them all and sent them to Wang Hao.
Wang Hao: [The pink one — you can take a few more of that. Cats really love it. It even smells pretty good to me.]
After receiving the reply, Lin Yan added several more cans to his basket, then picked up a few packs of the wet food Wang Hao recommended.
That should be enough.
It would probably last until he found the cat’s owner.
At that thought, Lin Yan couldn’t help feeling a surge of sadness. He had only spent one night with the kitten, yet he already felt this reluctant and downcast — how much worse must the owner feel?
Lin Yan opened the local community post he had published yesterday. The post already had several thousand views, and kindhearted people had left replies in the comments. Some even reminded him to be careful when verifying whether anyone claiming the cat was truly the owner.
Among the dozens of comments, not a single one was from the real owner.
Strangely, Lin Yan felt a bit relieved — this meant the cat could stay with him a little longer.
He opened the [Work-slave] group chat, glanced through it, and replied:
When the project is over, I’ll treat everyone to a proper meal.
In reality, after buying all those things for the cat, Lin Yan’s wallet was completely empty. There was nothing he could do — for now, he could only make sure the kitten at home, who had no ability to provide for itself, was fed and warm.
Lin Yan wandered around the pet shop for a while longer and took a liking to a pet camera. It was a high-end model.
He was a genuine tech enthusiast. If something at home had a smart version, he would buy it just to try it out.
Originally, he had no intention of installing a camera at home, but the promotional video beside the display drew him in.
The camera was not only high-definition, but it could also upload footage to the cloud. It was fully featured — allowing the owner to monitor the pet at any time, making it easy for any “cat servant” to find their cat the moment they turned on the app.
He checked the price: 1,299.
Lin Yan gave up. In the end, he took his basket to the checkout.
Back at the office, Lin Yan rested his head on the desk and dozed for a while.
Someone lightly tapped on the desk. Lin Yan lifted his eye mask, half-opening his eyes. When he saw who it was, he asked, “What’s the matter, Director?”
Zhao Ming was holding a box containing new equipment — something the company issued to every employee once they became permanent staff, to make their work more convenient.
In fact, it was simply a relatively new computer. Electronic devices were updated quickly, and since they worked for a tech company, replacements happened more frequently.
Lin Yan had always been using his own equipment for work.
“This will make it easier for you to handle the project,” Zhao Ming said, placing it on Lin Yan’s desk.
“It already has the company’s previous code inside, so you can call it directly. It’s just that the budget for the privacy module is limited — our department could only allocate a small amount for now.”
“Alright, thank you, Director.”
As quitting time approached, Lin Yan instinctively continued working overtime.
Then his eyes drifted to a bag of cat food by the leg of the desk. Suddenly, he remembered — there was still a little kitten at home waiting for him, crying for food.
After thinking for a moment, Lin Yan stood up, grabbed the cans, clocked out at the door, and headed home.
The elevator doors were still open. Lin Yan rushed forward in a few quick steps — but when he saw the person inside, he immediately regretted running so fast.
“President Lu.”
Lin Yan bent slightly and greeted him. Seeing the secretary holding the “open door” button, Lin Yan had no way to retreat. He braced himself and stepped into the elevator.
Lu Heng hadn’t expected to run into Lin Yan at this moment either. He was already calculating how to arrive before him — his driver was waiting downstairs; once he stepped out of the building, he could get into the car, and it would take about six minutes to reach Lin Yan’s apartment complex.
Lin Yan didn’t own a car. For transportation, he relied on shared bicycles. Just finding one would take some time — it would probably take him about fifteen minutes to reach the entrance of his residential complex. Lu Heng calculated that Lin Yan would arrive home with enough time for him to return the clothes to their original place.
There was more than enough time.
Mm. What’s that smell?
Lu Heng was a cat. Even in human form, he still retained some feline traits — for example, his sharp sense of smell. At this moment, the tip of his nose twitched slightly as he tried to savor the scent he had just caught again.
Then he found the source.
Lu Heng lowered his gaze, his eyes fixed on the plastic bag Lin Yan was carrying. The bag was transparent — one look was enough to tell what was inside. Following the scent, Lu Heng swallowed unconsciously.
Is that… for me?
Lu Heng had tasted every kind of delicacy imaginable. He was even a bit picky. Very few foods ever truly satisfied him. He had always believed that food existed only to keep him alive — in his eyes, eating was nothing more than “recharging,” and whether it was direct current or alternating current made no difference.
But in that moment, he finally understood why food could also be called cuisine.
The elevator doors opened. Lin Yan shifted his body to the side, making space for Lu Heng.
Lu Heng strode out with long steps, his secretary following behind. At the lobby entrance, the secretary went ahead to open the door. Lu Heng sat in the back seat of the car. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lin Yan searching back and forth for a shared bike.
Lin Yan opened the app on his phone. Why were there so few bikes at this hour too? He finally locked onto one, but it was far away — he would have to detour a long distance to reach it. With no other choice, he resigned himself to it: cross one red light, then walk another five hundred meters to get the bike. He swore that he absolutely had to save up and buy an electric scooter.
Cameras, smart locks — none of those were more important than an electric scooter. That was a basic necessity.
Lin Yan hadn’t gotten off work at this hour in a long time. Who would’ve thought that not only was traffic jammed, even the bike lanes were packed? He looked up — all he could see was a sea of heads, one after another. He only had three traffic lights between him and home, yet he hadn’t even passed the first one.
At the same time, Lu Heng was also stuck in traffic.
He kept checking the time while making plans in his head. The time that had felt so plentiful just moments ago was now nearly gone. Lu Heng pinched his knee, lowered his hand, and stared out the window.
“Uncle Chen, I’m in a hurry. I’ll get off here,” Lu Heng said. Grabbing the bag with the clothes inside, he prepared to step out.
“Young Master, I’ll wait for you at the entrance.”
“No need. Drive the car back to the company.”
With that, Lu Heng got out quickly, striding away three steps at a time.
Lin Yan’s legs were practically numb from sitting by the time he finally got home. He held his waist and stepped into the elevator up to his apartment.
He looked at the door lock — it was actually open. This lock had come with the apartment. There was a cover on top shielding the keypad, which he normally always closed. Why was it open today?
Lin Yan didn’t think much of it. He entered the password and went inside, set his things down on the cabinet by the door, then carefully changed his shoes and walked in.
“Mi-mi.”