Three days had passed since the chaos of the warehouse, the fight with Lù Jī, and the Ice Queen's dramatic purge of her freelance staff.
The trauma room had become Tòumíng's temporary prison, a luxurious cage of soft pillows, warm blankets, and round-the-clock medical attention that he absolutely did not want but could not escape. Every time he tried to get out of bed, a nurse would appear like a ghost and gently but firmly push him back down. Every time he tried to argue that he was fine, the Ice Queen would materialize in the doorway with that look—the one that said "I will personally strap you to this bed if I have to."
And now, at 7:32 AM on the third morning, Tòumíng was attempting to escape again.
"I have to go to work," he insisted, his voice carrying the desperate edge of someone who'd been making the same argument for three days straight. He was already halfway to the door, his hospital gown flapping around his legs, his bare feet slapping against the cold tile.
"I'm going to be late. My boss is going to kill me. I'll lose my job. I'll lose my income. I'll lose everything I've worked for."
The nurse standing in his path didn't budge. Her expression was serene, almost pitying. "Sir, the Ice Queen has instructed me to inform you that you are not to leave this room under any circumstances. Your health is her primary concern."
"My health is FINE! I've healed! Look!" He gestured at his body, which was, admittedly, looking significantly better than it had three days ago. The stitches had dissolved, the bruises had faded, and the herniated discs were nothing more than a dull ache. "I'm practically brand new! I could run a marathon! I could—"
"I'm sure you could, sir. But the Ice Queen's orders are absolute."
Tòumíng opened his mouth to argue further, but before he could get a word out, the door swung open and the Ice Queen herself strode in. She was dressed immaculately, as always, in a form-fitting white pantsuit that hugged her curves like a second skin, her pale blonde hair swept back in an elegant twist. Her heels clicked against the tile with the kind of deliberate, commanding rhythm that made people straighten their spines and hold their breath.
"I heard you were trying to leave again," she said, her voice carrying a note of amused disapproval. "Really, Tòumíng. You're going to make me take drastic measures."
"I'm fine! I need to go to work! I have responsibilities!"
The Ice Queen sighed, a long, exaggerated sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep in her soul. She walked toward him, her heels clicking with each step, and placed a hand on his chest, gently but firmly pushing him back toward the bed. "You're not going to work. You're going to rest. And to ensure that you have absolutely no excuse to leave early, I've decided to take matters into my own hands."
Tòumíng blinked, his brain struggling to process her words. "What do you mean, 'take matters into your own hands'?"
She smiled, a slow, predatory expression that made his blood run cold. "I'm going to visit your boss. Personally. And I'm going to make sure he understands that you will not be attending work for the foreseeable future. Paid leave, of course. I wouldn't dream of depriving you of your income."
"Wait, no, you don't have to—"
"Too late." She was already walking toward the door, her hand raised in a dismissive wave. "I've already arranged transportation. A red carpet is being rolled out as we speak. I do love making an entrance."
Tòumíng stared after her, his jaw hanging open, his brain completely unable to process what had just happened. "She's going to roll out a red carpet at the mine? At my mine? The dirty, dusty, coal-covered mine?!"
The nurse nodded, her expression still serene. "The Ice Queen is very thorough, sir."
"THE ICE QUEEN IS INSANE!"
But she was already gone, her heels clicking down the hallway, her entourage of three burly men following close behind.
---
The Longhua Mining Complex had never seen anything like it.
The red carpet was rolled out across the gravel, a luxurious strip of crimson fabric that looked absurdly out of place against the industrial grime. Workers stopped mid-stride, their mouths hanging open, their eyes wide with confusion. The foreman dropped his clipboard. A security guard nearly tripped over his own feet, then lingered on the floor in an attempt to get a good look at her...
Which was met with a stomp to the windpipe by the ice Queen.
Xuě Bào, the Ice Queen, stepped out of her black limousine with the kind of effortless grace that made everyone in the vicinity forget how to breathe. She was a vision of pale beauty against the drab backdrop of the mine, her white pantsuit immaculate, her blonde hair gleaming like spun gold. Her three burly men flanked her, their faces expressionless, their bodies radiating the kind of quiet menace that made people give them a wide berth.
One of them was carrying a duffel bag. A large duffel bag. (hmm I wonder whats in it)
The Ice Queen walked toward the main office, her heels clicking against the red carpet, her eyes fixed on the door ahead.
She reached the office door and kicked it open. It flew off its hinges, slamming against the wall with a sound like a gunshot. Zhāng Wěi, who'd been hunched over his desk, buried in paperwork, nearly fell out of his chair.
"What the—" he started, his voice rising with alarm. Then he saw her. Saw the white pantsuit. Saw the three burly men. Saw the duffel bag. His mouth snapped shut, his survival instincts overriding his confusion.
The Ice Queen strode into the room, her presence filling every corner of the small, cluttered office. She didn't sit down. She didn't acknowledge the papers scattered across the desk, or the framed photos on the wall, or the general chaos of a man who spent too much time at work. She just stood there, her pale blue eyes fixed on Zhāng Wěi's face, and spoke.
"My partner will not be attending work for the foreseeable future."
Zhāng Wěi blinked, his brain struggling to catch up. "Your... partner?"
"I'm referring to Tòumíng. He will not be working for two months. But he must be paid. Full wages. Every single day."
Zhāng Wěi's eyes widened. He looked the Ice Queen up and down, taking in the expensive outfit, the confident posture, the obvious wealth radiating from her like heat from a furnace. He didn't recognize her.
He wasn't tapped into the criminal underworld, he was just a mine manager, a simple businessman trying to keep his operation afloat. But he knew power when he saw it, and this woman radiated power.
He put on his best customer-service smile, the one he used when dealing with difficult investors, and leaned forward in his chair. "I see. Well, I'm sure we can work something out. But I have to say, this is a bit... unexpected. Tòumíng is one of my best employees. Losing him for two months is going to be a significant blow to my operations."
The Ice Queen didn't respond. She just nodded slightly, and the burly man with the duffel bag stepped forward.
Zhāng Wěi's eyes went to the bag. His brow furrowed. "What's that?"
The man dropped the duffel bag onto the desk with a heavy thud. The impact made the papers jump, made the framed photos rattle against the wall, made Zhāng Wěi's heart skip a beat. He reached out with shaking hands, unzipped the bag, and peered inside.
His jaw dropped.
The bag was filled with cash. Stacks and stacks of hundred-yuan bills, rubber-banded in neat bundles, packed so tightly they barely fit inside the bag. Zhāng Wěi's fingers trembled as he reached in and pulled out one of the bundles, his eyes scanning the zeros, his mind racing through calculations.
Roughly five-point-five million yuan. Maybe more. He'd been counting money for decades, and he knew exactly what he was looking at. It was enough to keep his operation running for months. Enough to cover the losses from the sewage pipe incident that had flooded three floors and shut down production. Enough to make any problem disappear.
Zhāng Wěi stood up so fast his chair rolled backward and hit the wall. His customer-service smile transformed into something far more genuine, far more enthusiastic. He clasped his hands together, his voice rising with a mixture of awe and desperation.
"Of course! Of course Tòumíng can take all the time he needs! He's my best employee, my most reliable worker, the absolute backbone of this entire operation! I've always said, Tòumíng is the kind of employee every boss dreams of having! Hardworking, dedicated, never complains, always shows up on time, always gives 110%! I was actually just thinking about giving him a raise! A substantial raise! He deserves it! He deserves everything!"
He paused, taking a breath, his mind already pivoting to the next opportunity. "And if you're interested, I'd love to discuss the possibility of you investing in the mine. Mining is a rising market—it hasn't gone down since World War Two, you know! The capital for investors is absolutely insane! We're talking exponential growth, year over year! With your financial backing, we could expand operations, modernize equipment, increase production by at least 40%! The returns would be—"
The Ice Queen stood up.
Zhāng Wěi's voice died in his throat. Her expression hadn't changed—still cold, still commanding—but there was something in the way she moved that made him shrink back. She didn't say anything. She just looked at him, her pale blue eyes boring into his soul.
"Pay Tòumíng his usual wage every day," she said, her voice flat and absolute. "Or else."
Zhāng Wěi nodded frantically, his hands raised in surrender. "Yes, yes, of course! Absolutely! Whatever you need! I'll make sure he's paid every single day, full wages, no questions asked!"
The Ice Queen turned and walked toward the door. Zhāng Wěi, unable to help himself, tried one more time. "If you'd like to discuss the investment further, I'd be happy to host you for tea sometime! I know a lovely little place near the docks—"
She left.
Zhāng Wěi stood frozen in the middle of his office, staring at the empty door way, his heart pounding, his mind reeling. The duffel bag was still on his desk, still full of cash, still a tangible reminder of the strangest, most surreal encounter of his life.
Outside, the workers who'd been eavesdropping on the entire conversation couldn't help but look at each other with bewildered expressions. They'd heard everything—the demands, the money, the threats. And they all had the same question burning in their minds.
"How the hell does Tòumíng know such a smoking hot beauty?"
The foreman shook his head, his voice carrying a note of disbelief. "That kid has been working here for three years, and I've never seen him talk to anyone who looked like that. Not once. Not ever. How does a nineteen-year-old miner land someone like that?"
Another worker shrugged, his expression a mixture of confusion and grudging respect. "I don't know, but whatever he's doing, he's doing it right."
"Tòumíng you lucky dog."
"First you take all the overtime pay, and now you land that goddess!?"
"It's not fairr!"
The mine was silent for a long moment, the workers still processing what they'd witnessed. Then the foreman let out a long, low whistle and turned back to his clipboard. "Alright, enough gawking! Back to work! We've still got a sewage pipe to fix!"