Wanna Wash It Again?

In a spacious office.

Shen Mochen was flipping through a document from the Venture Capital Department. He frowned slightly, a scathing look crossed his face as he looked at the manager of the department and asked, "If I'd like to acquire this company, how long would it take for you to revive it?"

"Three months," said the manager of the Venture Capital Department.

Shen Mochen threw the file on his desk and ordered, "Do it!"

Shen Mochen's phone rang; it was Jiang Nanfeng.

Shen Mochen answered the call. He then said, "Noted. I'll be right there."

At the university ---

Shui Miaomiao attended four lectures in the morning--two lectures on English speaking skills and two on Chinese Cultural History.

Shui Miaomiao thought that the teacher's speaking skill was ridiculous; it was even worse than hers. Her brain was in maintenance during the two lectures.

Her phone rang.

That woke Shui Miaomiao up. She wiped away the drool that pooled around her mouth and looked up. There was no one left.

She looked at her phone and saw a string of numbers.

The numbers looked familiar.

She answered.

"You don't have to go to the field anymore. Come to the Department of Academic Affairs, sixth floor, room 608. This is my office," the calming voice rippled through her ears from the phone.

"Oh," It belonged to Shen Mochen.

Shui Miaomiao hung up the phone, hoisted her bag over her shoulder, and headed to the Department of Academic Affairs with the gift bag in her hand.

She was going to return the stuff to Shen Mochen, and then they were going to part ways. She wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

When she was surfing the internet in the morning, she looked up the Shen Group on Baidu.

The Shen Group started with real estate, and they owned business plazas in many first-tier cities. They also began to get involved in IT in recent years.

Why would a man with such background come to teach in a film academy?

Had a door squeezed his brain?

Shui Miaomiao went to the sixth floor and found room 608. 'Vice President' was written on the door.

Shui Miaomiao's forehead furrowed as she knocked on the door.

"Come in," Shen Mochen's voice could be heard from the other side of the door.

Shui Miaomiao opened the door and saw that he was sitting in front of his laptop. His gaze focused on the screen, his phone in his hand, "Is that so? To get to level 85, a normal person would need a year, but he only needs a month. Either there's a huge bug in the game, or, I suspect, he has a cracking tutorial. Contact the Technical Department immediately, ask them to find out how he gets through the levels so quickly and also find his physical address."

Shui Miaomiao watched the working Shen Mochen. Contrary to his usual lazy and wicked vibe, he looked colder and wiser.

She put the gift bag down beside his desk, turned around, and was about to leave.

Shen Mochen seized her wrist.

He laid his phone down beside his laptop, looked at her, and then darted a glance at the gift bag. A devilish gleam appeared in his eyes, "Did you wash them?"

"Of course, if President Shen is uncertain, feel free to rewash them," Shui Miaomiao gave him a bright smile and answered joyfully.

His palm was too warm; it felt like a burning cigarette bud on her skin. She pulled her hand out of his grasp forcibly and rubbed her wrist.

Shen Mochen stared at her thoughtfully, scooped the gift bag up, and picked up his boxers from the bag with two fingers.

He then simply threw it in her direction.

Shui Miaomiao's reflex made her catch the boxers.

"You have worn this. I don't want it anymore," Shen Mochen said casually.

He sounded like he was very disgusted.

Bright red color streaked up Shui Miaomiao's cheeks. Blistering rage was exploding in her eyes when she clutched his boxers in her hands.

She sensed that he was trying to humiliate her with the handwashing yesterday and what he said just now.

Fine, she couldn't go up against him, could she at least ward him off?

Shui Miaomiao nodded slightly, turned around, and walked away.