Just because I wrote "Zhu Xian," the school beauty sent me razor blades.

Nine o'clock.

Lin Yuan opened his eyes.

Not ten o'clock, not eleven o'clock, but nine o'clock—this number, in the clock of his life, belongs to the kind of limited state that "exists in theory but rarely appears in practice".

He even wondered if he was still dreaming.

After all, in the month or so since the college entrance exam ended, his biological clock has undergone a magnificent transformation from "studying hard and going to bed early and waking up early" to "retaliatory laziness and sleeping until he naturally wakes up." The probability of waking up at nine o'clock is about the same as winning the second prize in the lottery—not impossible, but if it really happens, you'll question your life first, not be happy.

But soon he realized that this was not a dream.

Because my phone rang.

"Ring ring—ring ring—"

Lin Yuan closed his eyes and fumbled for his phone, his movements as practiced as if he were blind typing comments urging updates for the novel "Zhu Xian" in the dark.

"Feed..."

"Are you awake?"

The voice on the other end of the phone was crisp and efficient.

Lin Yuan instantly perked up.

"Sister Fei?"

"It's me," Fei Zhao's voice came through the receiver. "Have you arrived yet?"

Lin Yuan glanced at his phone screen.

9:17.

He paused for a second.

"Sister Fei, I didn't go to sleep until 2 a.m. last night."

"What a coincidence, I'm at three o'clock."

Lin Yuan: "..."

He finally understood.

Fei Zhao is the kind of person who, if you try to play the victim with her, she'll try to outdo you in misery; if you try to outdo her in laziness, she'll flip the table.

"Fine, fine." Lin Yuan sighed resignedly. "Give me an hour. I'll wash up, buy a couple of steamed buns to tide me over, and then I'll head over."

There was no immediate response on the other end of the phone; after a two-second silence, a very soft "hmm" came through.

After hanging up the phone, he rolled out of bed, his movements so fast it was as if someone had pressed the fast-forward button.

Washing up, changing clothes, grabbing the phone, and stuffing the wallet – the whole process was smooth and efficient, a standard operation that can be described as the "lazy dog's extreme survival version".

Before leaving the house, he glanced at himself in the mirror.

Her hair still had a slightly wavy curl, but her eyes were already bright.

My stomach growled at just the right moment.

Okay, let's feed it first.

As Lin Yuan walked out of the hotel, he subconsciously turned toward the steamed bun shop from yesterday—after all, it was the closest steamed bun shop to the hotel. As a seasoned lazybones who had written "taking one less step is a gain" into his life motto, he had no intention of going anywhere else.

When I arrived around 11 a.m. yesterday, there were only three lonely-looking buns left in the steamer.

Today is different.

Around nine o'clock, the steamer baskets were neatly stacked in several layers, steaming hot, like a fully-fledged army, completely different from the remnants of yesterday's defeat.

The boss was wiping the counter when he heard footsteps and looked up. His gaze lingered on Lin Yuan's face for a second, a clear look of surprise flashing in his eyes—his expression clearly saying: Isn't this the sucker who bought all the leftover buns yesterday?

Wow, good morning!

"Hmm," Lin Yuan stood in front of the steamer, took a deep breath, "Finally, I don't have to eat the 'leftovers' today."

"Absolutely." The owner patted the steamer basket, his tone carrying a sense of pride that said, "See, my shop is reliable after all." "Today we have all kinds of fillings: fresh pork, vegetable buns, red bean paste, shredded radish—you name it, we have it."

"The boss is generous." Lin Yuan nodded. "Give me two pieces of fresh meat, a vegetable bun, and a cup of soy milk."

"Okay."

The shop owner quickly packed it up and handed it over, adding casually, "Be careful, the soy milk is hot."

"Alright." Lin Yuan took the bag and turned to walk out.

Many things in life are like this breakfast: what was "leftovers" yesterday becomes a whole basketful today.

The change happened so suddenly.

He hailed a taxi on the roadside.

After getting in the car, I saw that the driver was a man in his forties with a round face and a buzz cut.

"Master, Tianxing Entertainment headquarters."

"Alright." The driver started the car. "Going to work at Tianxing Entertainment so early in the morning?"

"Let's talk about something."

The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror: "Young man, what do you do for a living?"

"Someone who writes."

"Someone who writes stuff works for Tianxing Entertainment?" The driver chuckled. "A lyricist?"

"almost."

"Wow, that's impressive." The driver chatted with him while turning the steering wheel. "My daughter also loves listening to music. She plays that song, 'Just Because You're Too Beautiful,' all the time at home. It's driving me crazy."

Lin Yuan almost choked on the soy milk.

"Master, your daughter has quite... avant-garde taste."

"Avant-garde, my foot! She's just following the trend." The driver waved his hand. "I just don't understand, why are all the songs these days the same? It's always the same old 'You're Too Beautiful' or 'I Love You,' nothing new."

"So that's how I came to be."

The driver glanced at him again in the rearview mirror and chuckled, "Young man, you've got quite the nerve."

"It's not that I have a bad temper, it's just that the steamed buns smell good." Lin Yuan held up a half-eaten pork bun. "Master, have you had breakfast yet?"

"I ate it, a jianbing guozi (Chinese crepe), bought it over there." The driver pointed to the pitiful half-eaten jianbing on the passenger seat. "But your steamed bun looks good, where did you buy it?"

"Downstairs at the hotel."

"How does it taste?"

Lin Yuan thought for a moment and answered seriously, "It's like experiencing workplace bullying, but still having a soft heart."

Driver: "...Huh?"

"The outer layer is a bit hard, but the filling is pretty good." Lin Yuan took another bite. "You know, many things in life are like that; they may look hopeless on the surface, but one bite and they're still alive."

The driver was silent for two seconds, then laughed so hard he almost lost his grip on the steering wheel.

"You're an interesting young man."

"It's mainly because of the pressure of making a living," Lin Yuan said sincerely. "A writer's life depends on their ability to keep paying the bill."

The two chatted all the way from breakfast to Beijing traffic, from traffic to the hot weather, and from the hot weather to "it's really tough being a young person these days."

Lin Yuan cooperated throughout, occasionally throwing out a joke that made the driver laugh.

When the car stopped in front of the Tianxing Entertainment headquarters building, the driver was still reluctant to leave.

"Young man, will you ride with me again next time? I'll give you a discount—next time, if we don't chat for at least twenty minutes, you won't be charged."

"Deal." Lin Yuan got out of the car, waved, and said, "Take care, driver. Remember to finish your jianbing guozi, don't waste it."

"screw you!"

As the car drove away, Lin Yuan turned to look at the building in front of him.

Tianxing Entertainment Headquarters.

On the 49th floor, the glass curtain wall gleamed coldly in the sunlight, like a giant beast crouching in the city center.

Lin Yuan looked up and glanced at it.

"Alright then." He stuffed the last bite of the bun into his mouth. "Since we're already here..."

He took out his phone and glanced at the time.

9:53.

It's ahead of schedule.

Lin Yuan nodded in satisfaction, and just as he was about to take a step, his phone rang again.

It was still Fei Zhao.

"Have we arrived yet?"

"We've arrived at the entrance."

"Wait."

The call was abruptly ended again.

Lin Yuan: "..."

He realized that Fei Zhao's style of making phone calls was: no small talk, no nonsense, and no chance for you to organize your thoughts.

This is typical of highly efficient professionals.

Three minutes later, a person walked out of the gate of Tianxing Entertainment.

It was none other than Fei Zhao.

Today she wore a sharp white suit with a light gray silk shirt underneath and pointed high heels. She walked with a confident stride, like a sword drawn from its sheath.

Passersby turned to look at her, some even stopping to greet her: "Good morning, Ms. Fei."

Fei Zhao nodded, and without stopping, walked straight to Lin Yuan.

Then she looked him up and down.

"You came dressed like this?"

Lin Yuan looked down at himself.

White T-shirt, light-colored jeans, sneakers.

"What's the problem?"

"No problem." Fei Zhao's lips twitched slightly. "It's just that when you go into the karaoke room later, you might be mistaken for a delivery guy who went to the wrong floor."

Lin Yuan: "..."

"Just kidding." Fei Zhao turned and walked towards the gate. "Follow me."

Lin Yuan followed behind her, muttering to himself, "Do all people in the entertainment industry like to start with a downturn and then exaggerate?"

"No, we prefer to slap you first, then ask if it hurts."

"..."