002: Mess Up All the Work!
Tang Yu shook his head, brushing the thought away.
Haha, no way! It had to be his imagination.
Who in the world meets their new boss for the first time and immediately thinks about slurping them up?
Was this some kind of new-age social tactic among the youth? He really couldn’t understand it. Absolutely impossible!
Tang Yu took a deep breath and calmed himself down.
Yes, he prided himself on being patient and polite toward “connected hires.”
After all, every company has them. If one’s going to have a relationship-backed recruit, at least it’s better when the person doesn’t act like some entitled young master.
And truth be told, Tang Yu’s first impression of Sang Zhao wasn’t bad at all.
Sang Zhao followed Director Li to sign the contract, finalized his start date. Apparently, he was supposed to start work tomorrow.
Tang Yu felt his heart cry a little inside.
Sang Zhao’s whole demeanor visibly deflated, like he’d wilted on the spot.
Even Tang Yu started to lose confidence seeing that.
He hesitated before speaking softly, “Are you that upset about joining our company, Sang Zhao? We’re not that bad, are we?”
Then he started listing the perks on instinct.
“Standard nine-to-five, five insurances and one fund, regular weekends off, hardly any overtime, triple pay when you do work overtime, plus transportation and meal subsidies. So... why do you look so miserable about working here?”
Because he didn’t want to work at all.
Secretly, behind everyone’s back, the little cat pursed his lips and rolled his eyes ever so slightly.
Tang Yu tried to comfort him. “Are you worried it’ll be stressful? Don’t worry. We’re not some giant corporate empire, no pressure here.”
Sang Zhao, of course, had no pressure whatsoever.
He didn’t know how to do anything and didn’t have the courage to work, but he was, in fact, a very honest little cat who kept his promises.
He’d said he’d come tomorrow, so he would come right on time.
After they finished all the paperwork, Sang Zhao said goodbye and left the office building, head drooping.
But soon, his spirits perked right back up.
Director Li was taking him out for grilled salmon!
He loved salmon! Not as much as tuna, but still! Salmon was tender and rich with that oily fragrance that made it so delicious.
And when it was flame-seared, it tasted even better.
The caramelized surface gave way to soft, fatty meat inside. Wearing disposable gloves, Sang Zhao picked up a piece and stuffed it into his mouth with a satisfied munch.
Director Li watched him with her chopsticks poised mid-air, sighing helplessly.
She shook her head over and over. “You don’t even know how to use chopsticks? Ah, what am I supposed to do with a silly little yaoguai like you?”
Honestly, out of all the hundreds of spirits she’d ever taken in, Sang Zhao had the fewest skills of them all.
Granted, he was still young and had never struggled to survive among humans since he’d been a pet cat.
So he didn’t know a thing. His daily routine had been scratching his cat tree, curling up in his cat bed, and being praised as “the sweetest, most adorable little kitty in the world.”
After living like that for so long, how could he not be a bit dumb?
No pet cat knew how to read, no pet cat knew how to use chopsticks. Of course he didn’t!
Director Li started to doubt herself.
Tsk, had she pushed him into a job too quickly? Could he even handle it...?
Then she recalled that Tang Yu’s company already had a few yaoguai employees. Yes, at least he’d have some senior spirits around to guide him. Hmm, that was reassuring enough.
With that, she managed to ease her own worries.
After dinner, on the way back to the Bureau, Sang Zhao wouldn’t sit still in the car. He claimed he was “about to cough up a hairball” which, of course, was just an excuse not to wear his seatbelt.
Director Li pulled over, went to a Mixue Ice City stand, and bought him an ice cream cone.
Instant peace.
Sang Zhao had never had Mixue Ice City before. It was his first time. He licked the ice cream twice and closed his eyes in bliss.
Soft, cold, with the fragrance of milk, even the cone was crispy.
So good! Being human is actually kinda fun!
Sitting in the passenger seat, buckled in at last, he really did look like a person now!
Director Li bit back a sigh.
When they got back to the Bureau, Sang Zhao received his assigned phone, took a beginner’s class on how to use it, and another on “Human Society 101: Transportation,” where he learned how to take the subway and the bus.
By the end, he’d just learned how to use WeChat and immediately added Director Li.
He wasn’t good at typing? No problem!
Voice input existed now and as a clever little orange cat (not like those dumb big white cats), he was sure he could figure things out and never starve.
He happily added Director Li on WeChat. When it was time to leave, she came out to wave him off.
From behind, she shouted, “Sang Zhao! Remember to act human, okay? Really. Act. Human. Well!”
Ugh. What did acting human well even mean?
Sang Zhao’s ears drooped. He didn’t want to act human at all.
Dragging his heavy steps, one by one, he started feeling lighter as he went.
Well, with all these annoying problems waiting anyway, he might as well go check out his new apartment!
A free, fully furnished loft on the 26th floor and just for cats? How could that not sound like happiness?
The so-called loft apartments were housing complexes that gathered small yaoguai together for easier management.
A staff member drove Sang Zhao over, finished the paperwork with the building manager, and brought him to the 26th floor.
When the password lock clicked open, Sang Zhao let out a huge “Wow!”
Floor-to-ceiling windows filled the space with natural light. He rushed straight to the glass, palms pressed against it, peering outside.
From this height, he could see the bright blue sky and fluffy white clouds like cotton candy. In the distance is the ocean.
Everything was beautiful.
The staff checked the utilities, made sure everything worked, and handed the place over.
Once the humans left, Sang Zhao circled the place modestly, inspecting every corner, nodding with satisfaction.
Yep, all the appliances were there. He didn’t know how to use any of them, but who cared!
He took off his shoes and shifted back into his little orange cat form, racing up and down the loft stairs.
Woohoo! What a rush!
Perched on the upstairs railing, he stared at that enormous window and decided he’d buy ten cat hammocks to stick onto the glass. Then he could lounge there and watch the birds outside.
Nature TV!
Just thinking about it made him proud.
But something nagged at him.
Wait! People have to pay for things, right?
The little orange cat froze on the railing.
He jumped down, flopped onto the bed upstairs, and scratched under his chin with a back paw, deep in thought.
He took stock of his own shíhǎi, a sort of inner space where he could store things.
He wasn’t a powerful yaoguai, so his shíhǎi was small and could only hold a few items.
Back when he lived as a pampered housecat, he’d never stored any money in it, of course.
Inside, there were just two cans of cat food, three packs of freeze-dried treats, a few toys, and his treasured little cloth.
It was the small cloth he’d been wrapped in when his former owner found him. He loved it dearly.
Now that he was no longer anyone’s pet and had no owner, he’d have to figure out his future himself.
He spread the cloth out with his paws and started kneading it gently, eyes half-closed, purring in thought.
No money and limited food, he’d probably go hungry soon.
He checked his WeChat wallet and found a small stipend from the Bureau. Counting the zeros: one thousand yuan.
To him, that was a lot!
Alright, not bad at all. He wasn’t just a cat with a house now, he was a rich cat with a house.
It’d be even better if he didn’t have to work!
He logged out of WeChat, played around with his phone a bit more, then jumped off the bed from the second floor straight down to the dining table and pulled a can of tuna from his shíhǎi.
Tuna was his favorite. Fresh and ocean-scented, tender and delicious, it made him purr while eating.
After eating, he batted a toy bird around and fell asleep right there on the table.
The next morning, Sang Zhao woke up startled.
He’d been woken by noise, instinctively kicked at the sound’s source, arched his back, and puffed up before realizing...
Oh. It was his phone ringing.
His phone! He had a phone now!
He changed back into human form, turned off the alarm, and stared at the numbers on the screen.
Eight o’clock.
Eight o’clock used to be the time when humans went out to work... and when he usually got up, ate breakfast, and went back to sleep.
But now he had to go to work.
He got dressed, sighed miserably, and trudged out the door, dragging his feet all the way to the subway. On the train, he hung from the rail like a gymnast, stretching and swaying, still gloomy by the time he reached the company.
When he checked in, the cat’s tone was pure despair. “I’m Sang Zhao... here to work.”
The staff member assigned to guide him was An Tihu. She was gentle and kind, greeting him with a warm smile.
She explained that his position was “assistant,” but didn’t immediately assign him any tasks, just gave him a desk.
Sang Zhao received a laptop and some office supplies.
He sat down, turned on the laptop, and stared blankly at the keyboard.
He peeked at An Tihu and saw she didn’t seem to be expecting him to actually do anything. Relieved, he exhaled softly.
Phew. At least he didn’t have to do real work yet. Because honestly, he had no idea how.
Even looking at the laptop felt intimidating. There are so many buttons!
He used to think keyboards were just warm spots to nap on. Using them for work sounded impossible.
Once again, he silently cursed the world for forcing a perfectly good cat to act human.
As he was spacing out, he noticed how round the mouse was.
He liked it since it reminded him of a bird toy. So he started batting it back and forth with his fingers, playing with it like a toy ball.
Then he closed the laptop, opened it, balanced it on his head, and covered his face. Ah, now this was a great napping position.
Perfect for escaping this horrible world.
Tang Yu came out of his office and, as he passed the assistants’ area, saw Sang Zhao sitting there with a laptop on his head.
Tang Yu: “...?”
Those few visible tufts of orange hair peeking through the gap reminded him instantly who it was.
Slacking off was one thing. He wasn’t the kind of boss who forbade it, but what kind of ridiculous, over-the-top slacking pose was this?!
Tang Yu almost laughed out loud. He walked over and tapped the top of the laptop.
“Got nothing to do, huh?” he asked kindly.
Sang Zhao shook his head.
Tang Yu handed him a stack of files. “These are old project reports. Feed them through the shredder.”
Sang Zhao took them.
Each file was about the thickness of a palm, and there were several.
After giving the instruction, Tang Yu returned to his office, leaving Sang Zhao standing there, looking around.
...What was a shredder? What did it look like?
After a while, he managed to guess which one it was. He crouched down, poked at it, studied it and realized he didn’t know how to use it.
He was quickly getting irritated.
Shredding paper... Did that really require a machine?
Fine, he’d do it himself!
Sang Zhao carried the documents into a storage room without cameras, transformed back into a cat, and started scratching.
Pounce, bite, rake, claw. The more he shredded, the happier he got. The more he clawed, the more excited he became!
What a task! So fun! He could do this all day!
If only every job were this easy!
Maybe he should apply for the “shredder” position permanently. That counted as work too, didn’t it?
In less than five minutes, he’d shredded everything.
He looked down proudly. Perfect! Torn nice and fine. Err not super neat, but very fine indeed!
He turned back into a human, swept everything together, and dumped it into the trash bin.
Dusting off his hands, job done!
Tang Yu had only wanted to keep the kid busy. But barely ten minutes later, he saw Sang Zhao back at his desk, batting the mouse again.
...Tang Yu frowned in confusion.
The shredder could only handle a few sheets at a time. Even tearing apart each report first, it should’ve taken him at least an hour.
Done already?
Or did this orange-haired kid just completely ignore instructions?
Was he treating his boss’s words like... cookies?
Tang Yu stood up, strode over, and glanced down right into the trash bin.
Wait... why weren’t the shredded papers inside the shredder?
He bent down for a closer look. The paper strips were uneven, some long, some short, some just clawed to bits.
This definitely didn’t come from a shredder.
Tang Yu studied the pile for a moment, his throat moving as he swallowed, then slowly looked back at Sang Zhao.
“You...” He hesitated, searching for words. “You didn’t know how to use the shredder?”
After a pause, his eyes lit up with reluctant admiration. “You tore them all by hand? Wow, that’s... some grip strength.”
Sang Zhao’s eyes trembled.
That kind of “grip strength.” Did he mean human strength or weird strength?!
Say it clearly, please!! He was panicking here!!
Oh no, oh no, if Tang Yu started suspecting anything, wouldn’t that mean his “pretend-to-be-human” plan was doomed?
He’d only just started pretending to be human. Was he about to get exposed already?!
How terrible! Both the shredder and the boss were evil!
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