Does bitterness give way to sweetness?" The leader lifted his teacup and asked calmly.
Mu Yuting took a small sip, savoring it carefully. It did seem to leave a sweet aftertaste.
"Bitter bramble tea—the more bitter it is upon first taste, the cooler and sweeter the lingering flavor." The leader refilled both their cups.
"Too rigid, and one breaks; too soft, and one crumbles. Only by balancing strength and flexibility can one succeed (this is a quote). A-Ting, as a Chinese literature major, you must understand this."
Of course, Mu Yuting understood. It meant that in life, one shouldn’t be overly rigid nor excessively yielding, or else they’d find themselves trapped. One must know how to adapt, assess the situation, and balance firmness with flexibility to navigate with ease.
Suddenly, she grasped why the leader had invited her to drink bitter bramble tea.
Though the tea was bitter, its aftertaste was sweet and cool. He was trying to tell her that when anything reaches an extreme, it inevitably reverses course. To forgive where forgiveness is due—this was the leader’s subtle guidance.
"Thank you for your advice, Leader."
"That day, when I stopped you from calling the police, it was out of consideration for the bigger picture. It was both to protect the institution’s reputation and to shield you."
Mu Yuting suddenly recalled that in her past life, when Du Dawei was pursuing her, he often came to the workplace to curry favor. The leader had once hinted that Du Dawei wasn’t a suitable match. Unfortunately, she had been too naive back then, thinking the leader looked down on Du Dawei for coming from a poor family.
Then again, this leader always liked to speak half his mind, leaving people to guess, making himself seem profound. The clever could understand, but the simple-minded were bound to misinterpret.
"Du Dawei has a minor official in his family, along with a pair of unreasonable, meddlesome parents. And you’re just a girl from an ordinary family, with only a kind and gentle mother. If you fight him, even if you win one round, the repercussions will be endless." For the first time, the leader spoke plainly, afraid she wouldn’t grasp his meaning.
Mu Yuting thought for a moment, her expression serious. "Evil people won’t stop just because good people yield—they’ll only press their advantage. So, we must wait for the right moment, strike when the time is right, and cut off the greedy claws to better protect ourselves."
"You seem demure, little girl, but you’ve got quite the courage," the leader said with a laugh.
"I know all about his family situation. If I yield, I’ll be doomed. Only by fighting with all my strength can I find a new chance at life." Mu Yuting’s eyes sparkled with determination.
To endure in silence would only lead down the path of "marriage" again—repeating past mistakes. But why should she endure?!
In this life, whoever made her unhappy would no longer be tolerated—she would strike back hard! If others don’t offend me, I won’t offend them. If they offend me, I’ll teach them a lesson! If they dare offend again, I’ll send them to jail!
Often, what truly protects you isn’t your parents, relatives, friends, workplace, or leaders—it’s yourself. If you can’t stand firm on your own, who will protect you? Learning the law, understanding it, and wielding it as a weapon is the best way to safeguard yourself.
"You’ve already called off the engagement with him," the leader stated with certainty.
"Yes. It’s called off."
"Was it smooth? Any lingering issues?"
"It went fairly smoothly. There’s a little trouble left, but it’s nothing to worry about." With the agreement in hand, all that remained was debt collection. If they caused trouble, she’d call the police and have them arrested. Mu Yuting had already thought it all through.
The leader smiled. "You seem to have grown up quite a bit lately." Finally awake from love’s delusion, and learning to use her head to think things through.
Mu Yuting thought to herself: After two lifetimes, if I still hadn’t grown wiser, wouldn’t that have been a waste of living?
The leader suddenly changed the subject. "Do you remember the question I asked during your interview, and how you answered it?"
Mu Yuting felt a little awkward; it had been so long, and she didn’t remember such a minor detail.
The leader didn’t seem to mind and continued, "At the time, my question was to describe my management style in a few words. I’ve asked all applicants that question, and they all flattered me in various ways, making it sound extravagant."
Mu Yuting suppressed a laugh. She finally recalled her own answer.
"You only answered with eight words—'Control without stifling, freedom without chaos.' Quite concise."
Mu Yuting thought to herself: That was flattery, too. Using ancient wisdom to elegantly butter you up.
"Those eight words made me think you were quite clever, young lady. Out of all the applicants, I chose you."
Mu Yuting smiled and said, "Thank you for recognizing my potential, leader."A thousand-mile horse is common, but a talent scout is rare. The leader enjoyed showing off his literary knowledge—a common habit among Chinese literature majors.
They shared a smile and finished the tea in their cups.
"This tea is called 'bitterness ends, sweetness comes.'"
"Thank you for the excellent tea, leader."
"Things aren’t too busy these next couple of days, so rest well. Health is the foundation of revolution," the leader joked lightly. "The busiest time for you will be right before the New Year."
Mu Yuting immediately promised, "I’ll make sure to get the job done!"
With less than a month until the New Year, it was well-known that the office would be at its busiest before the holidays.
"Alright, you may go now."
Mu Yuting acknowledged and stepped out, closing the door behind her.
When she returned to her workstation, Sister Qin asked if she’d been scolded. She replied that it was fine.
Yes, it was fine. The leader was magnanimous and hadn’t intended to make things difficult for her.
She proactively took on some of Sister Qin’s tasks to lighten her load. That day, both of them left on time without needing overtime.
After dinner, Mu Yuting turned on her desktop computer, exported the draft from her phone’s notes to the desktop, formatted it in a Word document, and then navigated to the familiar Green River website.
The eternally unchanging green interface was Green River’s signature style. Some might find it too green, but she thought it was refreshing and liked it.
After carefully reviewing Green River’s current rules, she registered an author account and posted a new story.
The outdated submission page and occasionally glitchy system felt quite familiar to her—after all, she’d been using it for what felt like decades.
Green River’s system had been intermittently malfunctioning for decades, like an old wooden door, worn-out, peeling, and creaking, until it finally fell off its hinges and shattered beyond repair, only then replaced by the frugal CEO.
The thought amused her. This system would likely be around for decades more—it felt rather endearing.
That night, she posted the first three chapters, totaling ten thousand words, and waited for the editor’s contract message. From then on, she only needed to maintain a daily update of three thousand words.
After finishing her post, she browsed Green River’s current rankings.
There were many veteran top authors; many novels that would later be adapted into films and TV shows were either still serialized or just completed. Looking at the rankings, there were plenty of stories featuring female suffering—it was the trend at the time. Her strong female protagonist story stood out awkwardly among the misery-filled works.
Given the chance, she’d like to shift the trend from torturing female characters to cherishing them.
Closing the Jiangjiang app interface, she began typing on her Word document. Using a computer was much more convenient than a phone, at least when it came to significantly increasing her writing speed.
Before bed, she had written six thousand words, bringing her saved drafts to nearly ten thousand. Feeling thoroughly satisfied, she thought to herself that from now on, she would write ten thousand words every night, saving any extra as drafts—what a delightful plan.
"Tingting, what are you still doing up so late? And on the computer! What about work tomorrow?" Mu's Mother started nagging.
"Coming right away," Mu Yuting replied, shutting down the computer and turning off the lights. Early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy.
Lying in bed, she couldn't fall asleep for a long time, feeling as if she had forgotten something. Drifting in and out of drowsiness, it finally dawned on her: the day after tomorrow was Saturday, her day off. Her mother had mentioned earlier about inviting the Du family elders over so both sets of parents could sit down and put a definitive end to this engagement.
She wondered if that scumbag Du Dawei had told his parents about it after going home. If he had, his utterly unreasonable parents would surely make a scene.
Eventually, succumbing to deep drowsiness, Mu Yuting thought to herself: If vicious dogs come, there’s a stick to beat them. Why be afraid of them!
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