Cheng Jianning was startled. He hurriedly bent over with some difficulty to clean the mess off the floor and apologized to the cleaning lady.
“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to. It won’t happen again.”
The cleaning lady cast a gloomy glance at him, then finally shifted her gaze to Song Nanxing. Her overly wide mouth stretched to both sides of her flat face in what seemed to be a smile.
“A new one?”
Cheng Jianning quickly answered, “Yes, he’s just here to complete his onboarding.”
The cleaning lady scanned Song Nanxing from head to toe, her tongue licking over her jagged teeth. Her tone was still somewhat gentle as she reminded, “Make sure you explain all the company rules clearly to the newcomer. Don’t make extra work for me.”
Despite what she said, her tiny eyes—set far too wide apart—repeatedly swept over Song Nanxing, brimming with greedy hunger.
Song Nanxing responded like a shy new hire, pressing his lips into a timid smile.
The cleaning lady left, glancing back at him every few steps.
Cheng Jianning looked visibly relieved, even his voice was less robust than before.
“Come on, I’ll take you to finish the paperwork.”
Song Nanxing asked, “You seem really afraid of that cleaning lady. Is she that fierce?”
Cheng Jianning whispered, “Everyone in the company is scared of her. You’ll see for yourself soon enough. The company rules are pretty laid-back, but if you break them, there will be consequences.”
“What kind of consequences? Fines?”
Cheng Jianning scoffed, “Fines are nothing. The cleaning lady is in charge of all the company’s sanitation—and that includes employees who break the rules. But our company’s still pretty humane. If it’s just a minor offense, you’ll be given a chance to make up for it. The first two times, you’ll just be locked up in the supply room. But her temper’s awful. According to coworkers who’ve been punished, it’s not fatal or anything, but it’s definitely unpleasant. And when they come out, their memory gets all messed up—they have to relearn a bunch of things from scratch.”
Song Nanxing’s expression turned curious. “Have you ever been locked up?”
Cheng Jianning lifted his small head proudly. “Of course not. I’m one of the model employees!”
Song Nanxing glanced over his grotesquely bloated body, which had to weigh at least four or five hundred pounds, and said slowly, “But didn’t you just say that people who’ve been locked up come out with memory problems? If you had been locked up, you probably wouldn’t remember it anyway, right?”
Cheng Jianning’s bloated body suddenly trembled. He came to a halt. The small head perched atop layers of fat turned stiffly toward Song Nanxing, his eyes shadowed and dark.
Song Nanxing met his gaze with an innocent expression.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
Cheng Jianning stared at him for a moment, then turned around and continued walking. “No… You just reminded me of something all of a sudden.”
As they spoke, the two of them arrived at the HR office. Cheng Jianning squeezed his large body through the narrow doorway with difficulty and said to the HR personnel, “New hire onboarding.”
Standing behind him, Song Nanxing couldn’t see anything—the view was entirely blocked—he only heard a gentle female voice say, “Please fill out the onboarding form first.”
Cheng Jianning shifted sideways to make room on the desk and handed the form to Song Nanxing.
“Fill it out here. I’m going to talk to Wang Xiaorui for a bit.”
So the HR girl’s name was Wang Xiaorui.
Song Nanxing took the application form and froze for a moment when he saw its contents. “Why is it completely blank? Did you give me the wrong one?”
Wang Xiaorui replied in a soft, delicate voice, “No mistake. Just write down your basic info and sign your name.”
Song Nanxing held the pen and put on a troubled expression.
“Your company’s onboarding process is way too informal. Feels like I’m signing a slave contract or something… Can I think about it before signing?”
The moment he said that, the office was instantly plunged into an eerie silence.
Wang Xiaorui and Cheng Jianning both turned to stare at him coldly.
Watching the healthy color drain from Wang Xiaorui’s pretty face until it turned a grayish-blue, Song Nanxing mumbled as he picked up the pen and signed, “Okay, guess that’s not allowed.”
As soon as he finished signing, Wang Xiaorui beamed and cheerfully tucked the application form into a folder. “All done. Welcome to Good Dream! Our big family just got one member bigger.”
Song Nanxing, sharp-eyed, noticed that the folder was stuffed with a thick stack of identical forms—probably application forms from other employees.
Since psychological counselors were also considered employees of Good Dream, they would’ve had to fill out one of these forms too. If he could get a look at that folder in Wang Xiaorui’s hands… it might hold some useful clues.
Song Nanxing lowered his gaze, hiding the calculation in his eyes.
Beside him, Cheng Jianning was saying to Wang Xiaorui, “I’ve already found someone to take over my position. Hand me the resignation form.”
Wang Xiaorui said, “You’ll have to change all your lines first. Go find Dr. Zhao to deal with them, then come back for the resignation form.”
Cheng Jianning let out a satisfied “oh,” looking positively cheerful. His massive body shoved Song Nanxing forward as he said, “Come on, come on, I’ll take you to your workstation. Move it—I’ve got to see Dr. Zhao before I get off work.”
Song Nanxing was half-pushed, half-dragged over to his workstation.
Although he had filled out the onboarding form, Song Nanxing still didn’t even know what position he’d actually been hired for. Like a diligent student, he raised his hand and asked, “What are my job responsibilities? What am I supposed to do next?”
Cheng Jianning rummaged through the clutter on his own desk, finally pulling out two stapled, dog-eared pages and stuffed them into Song Nanxing’s hands.
“You just joined, so for now you won’t be receiving any clients. Start by familiarizing yourself with the company rules and regulations—don’t make mistakes.”
He looked extremely rushed. After reminding Song Nanxing not to wander around, he hurried off, presumably to find Dr. Zhao as Wang Xiaorui had instructed.
Song Nanxing was curious about how those threads on Cheng Jianning’s body would be dealt with, but as a newcomer, he figured it was safest not to go poking around. Regretfully pulling his gaze away from Cheng Jianning’s retreating figure, he focused on the employee handbook in his hands.
The two-page handbook was somewhat tedious. After carefully reading it over, Song Nanxing distilled the core points—nearly all of them revolved around clients:
- First: When receiving clients for counseling, one must be patient and never show strange facial expressions.
- Second: All client requests should be fulfilled as much as possible. Remember: the customer is always right.
- Third: If a client files a complaint, the employee will face severe punishment.
Besides that, there was one more rule that carried strict penalties:
Employees who are not licensed doctors are strictly forbidden from entering the counseling rooms without authorization. Violators will bear the consequences.
Song Nanxing’s gaze lingered on that last line. He began plotting how he might get into the counseling rooms.
Earlier, when Cheng Jianning had led him through the building, Song Nanxing had already gotten a rough sense of how the office was laid out. Good Dream’s workspace occupied the entire 29th floor. Zone A, where he currently was, consisted mostly of open cubicles, with the exception of three offices and one lavishly decorated reception room.
Zone B was located beyond Zone A. At the far end of the hallway in Zone A was the entrance to Zone B, the two zones separated by thick frosted tempered glass. Song Nanxing hadn’t had the chance to see what was inside.
But judging from how Zone A was arranged, he deduced that Zone B was likely where the counselors worked, along with the rooms used for client sessions.
Just as he was thinking this over, the girl at the adjacent workstation rolled over in her chair and tapped him.
“Hey, newbie.”
Song Nanxing set aside his thoughts and responded good-naturedly, “I’m Song Nanxing. What’s up?”
The girl spun in her chair and looked him up and down, eyes twinkling as she pointed toward the door.
“There’s a puppet peeking at you by the entrance. Is it yours?”
Following the direction of her finger, Song Nanxing saw a round, wooden puppet head—caught just before it had a chance to duck out of sight—peeking in at the entrance of the office.
Song Nanxing: “…”
He remembered now. After running into Song Yunqiao in the underground parking lot, he’d rushed off to Good Dream in a hurry—completely forgetting the puppet he’d left in the passenger seat.
He had originally planned to toss the puppet somewhere desolate on the way here.
But in just that short time, the puppet had somehow gotten out of the box and followed him.
With a blank face and flat tone, Song Nanxing said, “It’s not mine. I don’t know it.”
The girl’s eyes spun quickly in disbelief, clearly not buying it.
“But I think it came to find you. It’s such a cute little doll—how could you not want it?”
Song Nanxing caught the unmistakable malice in her uncovered grin and immediately thought: These coworkers are nothing like how Cheng Jianning described them—friendly my ass!
It was only his first day on the job, and he was already being targeted.
He ignored her and repeated firmly, “It’s not mine,” then returned his focus to studying the employee handbook.
Seeing he was ignoring her, the girl’s smile froze. Then the several mouths on her cheeks opened simultaneously and said in eerie unison, “I’ll go check on it. It looked like it really wanted to come in and find you.”
With that, she turned and walked off, lips curled in a sly smile.
Behind the main door, the puppet stood nervously, shrinking into itself as it fidgeted with its bumpy, splintered wooden fingers. It wasn’t sure if Song Nanxing had seen it just now.
It knew Song Nanxing didn’t like it—he had put it in a box and planned to throw it away far, far from here. That made it a little sad, but it didn’t mind too much. It still remembered his scent. That meant it could find its way back. So, it had obediently stayed in the box.
But Song Nanxing had gone upstairs. And upstairs… was dangerous.
After a lot of thought, it had quietly slipped out of the box and followed him up here.
Besides… it liked watching Song Nanxing.
Footsteps echoed from the other side of the door. The puppet hesitated, reluctant to leave.
Ji Jiajia arrived at the entrance and saw a hideous, worn-out puppet huddled with its limbs tucked in behind the door. She plastered on a smile, trying to appear friendly, and spoke in a deliberately sweet voice: “Are you here to see Song Nanxing?”
The puppet slowly lifted its head to glance at her, then quickly lowered it again.
It was torn. Maybe it should just go back into the box—if Song Nanxing found out it had snuck out, he’d probably hate it even more.
Its already battered wooden fingers had been scratched and gouged with even more little dents from its own anxious picking.
Ji Jiajia’s smile dropped when the ugly puppet dared to ignore her. The three mouths on her face all curled downward at once, and a malicious glint flickered in her eyes.
She stretched out her long arms toward the puppet, saying, “Didn’t you want to see him? I’ll take you to him.”