Middle-aged Love Patch

After two hours of drawing, a wave of nausea rose up again, and Xu Youyuan couldn’t hold on any longer, going to bed early.

She pinned her hopes on the "restart method" being effective—she still had a pile of things to do.

Half-asleep, her phone buzzed. Xu Youyuan glanced at it—it was a reply from Cang Lu.

"Do everything according to your ideas. Don’t hold back; I trust you completely. We’ll discuss the proposal once it’s ready. Do you need an assistant? I can send you a capable one."

Xu Youyuan skimmed the message but didn’t reply. She was too exhausted, and before she could even put her phone down, she fell back into a deep sleep.

The scorching sun rose, marking another new day. On this overcrowded planet, busy people gradually stirred awake, carrying their own obsessions as they threw themselves back into the daily grind.

Shi Yue arrived at CRUSH Tower on a shared e-bike, parked it in the designated area, and walked inside while checking her phone.

"President Shi!"

As she stepped into the building, the blast of cold air and the greetings of her colleagues hit her at the same time.

"Hello," Shi Yue replied, glancing up. It was two colleagues from the operations department—new hires, fresh-faced girls who immediately jogged over to squeeze into the elevator with her.

After they entered, a flood of people crammed in behind them, all rushing to clock in on time. To avoid being late, squeezing in was the only option.

Seeing her colleagues grimace as two sweaty men pressed against them, Shi Yue took a step back, pressing herself into the corner to free up a sliver of space.

"Thank you, President Shi!" The petite girl next to Shi Yue had curly brown hair and an ever-energetic demeanor, making her look like a little teddy bear. Hugging her briefcase, she curled up slightly, leaning comfortably against Shi Yue’s chest.

Shi Yue tilted her head to the side and looked down at her phone.

"Oh, President Shi, you play *Reshape Universe* too?" The little teddy bear seemed to have discovered something exciting. "What’s your username? Which galaxy is your base in?"

Shi Yue smiled. "I don’t really play—just testing out the competition."

"But you still have to register an account, right? What’s your username?" The little teddy bear craned her neck to peek at Shi Yue’s phone. Shi Yue swiped the screen away, switching to another app.

Shi Yue held her phone to her ear, leaving the little teddy bear grasping at air.

After listening for a moment, Shi Yue pressed the reply button. "Mm, got it."

"President Shi, do you have a sister?" The little teddy bear persisted, asking where she lived, whether she stayed with family or alone, which school she graduated from—chirping away with questions more thorough than a census.

At first, Shi Yue patiently answered a few of the more harmless ones, but as the questions grew increasingly intrusive, her smile vanished. She locked her phone and stared silently at the elevator’s floor display.

Shi Yue had a sweet, youthful face, setting her apart from the typical image of a company executive. The most obvious difference was her age—barely older than a fresh college graduate. Many of her employees were years older than her.

Her easygoing nature and young appearance made her seem like a recent graduate, fresh out of the ivory tower. Though her employees called her "President Shi," it was hard for them to truly see her as the boss.

The little teddy bear had only been at the company for less than a month. The first three times she saw Shi Yue, she mistook her for a regular colleague—even borrowing her meal card in the cafeteria before someone told her Shi Yue was the company’s founder. The revelation had stunned her for a long time.

As part of the operations department, the little teddy bear had little direct interaction with Shi Yue outside of company-wide meetings, reporting instead to her team lead and department head.

Running into Shi Yue now had her too excited to rein herself in. Only when Shi Yue’s expression turned frosty did she realize she’d gone too far.

When the usually cheerful boss turned cold and silent, an icy wall seemed to rise around her. The little teddy bear didn’t dare breathe, let alone ask more questions.

Now she understood—the sweet, youthful image was an illusion. Shi Yue was still a boss, no different from any other executive she’d met.

Yi Rushuang, who had joined the company at the same time as the little teddy bear, had stayed quiet the whole time.

From the moment they’d crossed paths in the lobby, she’d sensed disaster looming. She cursed her bad timing—now she’d drawn the boss’s attention and risked being lumped in with the little teddy bear’s foolish antics.

Finally, the elevator reached the 47th floor. Shi Yue stepped out first, while the little teddy bear hesitated outside the office, clutching Yi Rushuang’s arm in panic.

"Am I dead?"

Yi Rushuang gave her a cold look. "You really need to learn some boundaries. She’s still the boss."

"I know, but it’s so easy to forget when I see her."

"Do you remember now?"

"I do… Rushuang! Am I going to fail my probation?" The little teddy bear clung to Yi Rushuang, eyes brimming with tears, hoping for reassurance.

Yi Rushuang: "Yes."

The little teddy bear burst into tears—only to immediately choke them back when Shi Yue suddenly reappeared at the office entrance.

"Rushuang," Shi Yue said, "come with me."

Yi Rushuang abandoned the little teddy bear and followed Shi Yue down the hallway into her office.

Since Yi Rushuang’s supervisor hadn’t arrived yet, Shi Yue asked her directly for some data. She then called in people from the marketing and planning departments, holding a two-hour meeting that lasted until nearly lunchtime.

Shi Yue treated everyone to a meal, booking a private room at a Cantonese restaurant downstairs. The group of eight headed down together.

Shi Yue ordered two dishes and let the others choose the rest. While they decided, she pulled out her phone and logged into the mobile version of *Reshape Universe*, checking logs, setting up automated tasks, and handling basic notifications.

She scrolled absently as she listened to her colleagues chat.

Their conversations were always the same—industry gossip, the terrifying advancements of AI, society aging, people’s fear of marriage, the declining birth rate, and the looming crisis of who would pay taxes when their generation retired.

The retirement age kept getting pushed back—60-year-old women working as cleaners, 70-year-old men still fixing pipes.

Those who never wanted to marry now wondered if they should take the plunge, while those already married debated whether they could overcome their fears and have a child for security in old age.

"My neighbor is an elderly woman living alone," Yi Rushuang said. "Yesterday, when I passed her door on my way home, I heard a dog barking and something falling. I was worried, so I knocked—it took her forever to answer."

"Ah, a senior living alone? Did she faint or something?" a colleague asked. "See, this is why living alone is so dangerous. When you’re older, you need someone around—otherwise, you could die at home and no one would know."

"That’s terrifying."

"I’m not exaggerating—have you seen the news lately? It’s full of stories like that. An elderly person dies alone, and their body isn’t found until the smell alerts the neighbors. By then, it’s been weeks, and the corpse is already..."

"Ugh—we’re eating! Don’t gross out President Shi!"

Shi Yue didn’t look up from her phone as she said to Yi Rushuang, "Then you should visit the neighbor more often. Old as she is, she’s still a life."

Yi Rushuang, 26 years old and three years older than her boss, found the remark oddly phrased. The tone was serious, but the words felt off. Unsure whether Shi Yue was trying to lighten the mood or genuinely instructing her, the typically reserved Yi Rushuang could only reply earnestly:

"Understood."

In truth, Shi Yue hadn’t given the statement any thought—her attention was glued to her phone, lost in thought.

The "solitary old lady" had finally woken up.

Xu Youyuan was roused by the sound of a heated argument between her neighbors.

The old building had paper-thin walls; she could hear every word if someone so much as chatted in the hallway, let alone a full-blown, screaming match.

The evening sun cast a golden glow, and a cool breeze made the small window sway gently.

Sunlight easily spilled onto the bed in the tiny room. Xu Youyuan sat at the edge of the bed, her hair a mess and her eyes dazed, taking a long moment before her brain rebooted.

A glance at her phone showed 18:09 glaring atop a flood of notifications. That wasn’t sunrise—it was sunset. She’d slept straight through from last night until now?

She hadn’t been feeling well yesterday, barely touched her games or artwork, and went to bed early. Even now, a lingering nausea clung to her. A full day without eating, yet she felt no hunger, no appetite.

Was she actually sick?

Her phone buzzed—a holographic call from Shi Ye.

Only then did she notice the ten missed calls from Shi Ye, all unanswered while she slept.

Xu Youyuan answered, shuffling to the bathroom to freshen up.

"You’re alive?!" Shi Ye’s voice was frantic the moment the call connected. Her projected image aimed a kick at Xu Youyuan’s backside—purely theatrical, of course, as the hologram passed right through her.

"Barely." Xu Youyuan brushed her teeth and washed her face, startled by the dark circles under her eyes. She looked like she’d aged a decade overnight. Desperate, she rummaged for a face mask—emergency damage control.

"Then why the radio silence all day? I was about to ditch work and bust down your door to check if you were dead!"

"Relax, probably just food poisoning. Not dying yet."

"Feeling any better now? Want to grab dinner after I clock out?"

"Better, yeah, but still no appetite..."

"Don’t worry, Shi Yue won’t be there. Just you and me. No need to panic."

Xu Youyuan scoffed. "What, is she some three-headed monster I should be scared of? Perfect timing—I’ve got a score to settle with her. Tell her to bring it."

"Oh, so you *do* want to see her."

"...Cut the crap. What do you want? I’ve got commissions to finish. Not all of us have time to kill."

"I just figured you’d been skimping on meals again and wanted to treat you to something decent. Is kindness a crime now?" Shi Ye huffed. "By the way, where’s your new place? I haven’t seen it yet."

"Xijiao Juheyuan. Middle of nowhere—autopilot can’t even find it. Seriously, don’t fuss. Might not even be food poisoning. More like your sister’s antics are literally making me sick."

Shi Ye pounced on the lead. "You two talk privately often? What’d she do this time?"

Xu Youyuan almost launched into a rant about Shi Yue’s in-game sabotage—luring monsters, setting traps, the whole shebang—but paused, suspicious. "Wait. Are you Shi Yue’s spy?"

Shi Ye spluttered. "Why would I spy for her?!"

"Not telling you. You’re compromised."

Shi Ye: "??"

"Gotta go. Work pile’s calling."

Shi Ye’s mouth hung open, a protest dying on her lips as Xu Youyuan hung up mid-face-pat.

Anyone surnamed Shi was officially untrustworthy.

All Xu Youyuan wanted was to draw in peace, code in peace, and make money—lots of it.