Chapter 174.2: Simplified System
Everyone turned pleading eyes toward Qin Mo for help.
But even Qin Mo couldn’t guess what Shen Xiu was thinking from his cold, indifferent expression.
He could only ask, “President Shen, each department has given a brief report on their recent developments. Do you have anything to say?”
When he heard Qin Mo call him “President Shen,” Shen Xiu spaced out for a couple of seconds before realizing he was being addressed.
By the principle of reciprocity, since everyone had spoken at length, it was indeed time for him to say something as well.
Besides… why did what they said differ from the things he had observed over the past few hours?
Was it that the information he had gathered from the reports and contracts was flawed—or were they the ones in the wrong?
Shen Xiu forced himself to temporarily set aside this string of strange occurrences and, following the order of the reports, began to speak the thoughts he had already drafted mentally while listening.
Although Shen Xiu disliked making eye contact, it would be impolite not to while speaking directly to someone.
Since he didn’t personally know anyone present, he relied on the contracts he’d reviewed and the content of the reports just now to easily match each person to their respective department.
Shen Xiu’s gaze landed on the first person who had given a report:
“…The smart operation of the branch-line construction project is more than halfway through. According to the original plan, one-third of the payment should have been recovered by now—but the return is delayed beyond the initially expected timeline…”
“…and the completion rate is under sixty percent, which is far lower than the previously reported seventy-five percent…”
…
Based on the combination of project reports, contracts, and what everyone had just said, Shen Xiu spoke for a full ten minutes.
During those ten minutes, Shen Xiu essentially delivered the thoughts he had already prepared in his mind. As a result, his tone remained completely flat and calm, with no emotional fluctuation.
After he finished laying out the actual situation point by point, Shen Xiu looked at the group. “That’s all I have to say.”
He had spoken for ten minutes—longer than an award acceptance interview. That should be… enough, right?
Everyone inwardly drew in a sharp breath.
In order to make their data look good, the reports each department had given earlier had all been “glossed over” to some extent. But what Shen Xiu had just stated was the hard truth—nothing but the unvarnished reality.
No wonder Shen Xiu had furrowed his brows slightly and sat in cold silence during the reports. So that was why—he had been displeased with their dishonesty and didn’t even bother responding.
What Shen Xiu had just said, taken at face value, was basically the equivalent of slapping every department across the face—mercilessly, without saving anyone’s pride.
“…”
As soon as Shen Xiu finished speaking, the room fell completely silent.
None of them would dare allow their subordinates to submit that kind of inflated, face-saving report ever again. Even though Shen Xiu rarely came to the company in person, he clearly had a thorough grasp of the real situation. No wonder his tone and expression had been so cold earlier—he had already seen right through their little performance.
Several vice presidents wore awkward expressions. Unlike Qin Mo, they weren’t people Shen Xiu trusted, which was why they had allowed themselves a few seemingly harmless “little tricks.”
Clearly, Shen Xiu’s ruthless exposure just now was his way of bluntly telling them that he wouldn’t tolerate even those “harmless little tricks.”
After Shen Xiu finished speaking, he noticed that everyone in the conference room had their eyes lowered, staring at either the floor or the tabletop—no one responded to him.
“……”
‘Please,’ he thought, ‘can someone at least acknowledge me?!’
But the heavens did not hear Shen Xiu’s silent prayer. The atmosphere in the room grew even more stifling, and still, no one made a sound.
Shen Xiu’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he spoke again, “Does anyone have anything they’d like to add?”
If not, he’d verified what he came for—he was ready to leave.
Those who hadn’t yet figured out how to defend themselves in front of Shen Xiu—or didn’t even dare think about trying—could only silently accept the reality. And when they heard Shen Xiu’s low, cold voice ring out again, they responded one after another in subdued tones:
“…No.”
“No.”
“No.”
…
It was clear that, after this surprise inspection from President Shen, they had performed… very poorly.
Given Shen Xiu’s obvious displeasure, who would still dare say anything?
Hearing their responses, Shen Xiu finally felt the tension in his chest ease. Without hesitation, he said, “Meeting adjourned.”
“Goodbye, President Shen.”
“Goodbye, President Shen.”
…
Farewell after farewell rang out, but Shen Xiu quickly realized: although everyone was saying goodbye, not a single person moved—they all stood frozen in the conference room.
Shen Xiu: “……”
Fine. If the “enemy” doesn’t move, he will.
In this situation, Shen Xiu knew he obviously couldn’t just slink away quietly like before—blending into the background, leaving unnoticed. So he stood up and, while everyone’s eyes were still cast downward, quickly strode out of the room.
This time, Li Nuo walked slightly ahead of him to his right, while Qin Mo followed slightly behind on his left as they exited the conference room.
The moment Shen Xiu left, the people inside seemed to come back to life.
“Phew… I thought I was going to suffocate. I didn’t even dare take a deep breath.”
“Xiu-baby… ahem, I mean, President Shen looked so terrifying just now when he coldly pointed out all those issues. Luckily, he didn’t actually punish us in the end.”
“President Shen probably let it go because it was our first offense—just a warning this time. But if it happens again, we’re probably going to get fired on the spot… Wait a second, he just ruthlessly dismissed the VFX team from New Life, and right after that, he stormed into the company for a surprise inspection and had everyone report on the current operations. Isn’t that clearly meant to set an example?!”
“Exactly. That has to be it—100% meant to give a warning to some of the upper management who’ve gotten too full of themselves. Word is, K Corp’s been in the news a lot lately, and Vice President Liu and Vice President Qi were out drinking and bragging about it, and nearly—”
“Shh… keep your voice down, those VPs are still here…”
…
The vice presidents in question—who had nearly been caught doing something that could’ve damaged the company’s image—were visibly pale. Clearly, they’d come to the same conclusion as everyone else in the room.
The few of them quietly resolved to be more cautious in the future, lest they end up like the New Life special effects team, fired coldly and without warning by President Shen.
This time, he hadn’t directly fired them—probably because he’d chosen to show some mercy, considering the years they’d dedicated to the company.
—
Li Nuo pressed the elevator button. Shen Xiu stepped in, and the elevator went straight up to the 68th floor. When Shen Xiu saw the documents on the desk, he suddenly remembered—after reviewing them earlier, his hand had moved faster than his brain, and he’d already signed several pending files.
Shen Xiu: “……”
This was getting way too strange. He had to go back to the study at the villa he stayed in during the training camp period.
Shen Xiu had a hunch—that the computers in that study, which had been running this whole time, might just hold the key to all his questions.
Qin Mo, seeing Shen Xiu staring coldly at the desk without moving or saying a word for over ten seconds, gently asked, “President Shen, do you have any plans for what comes next?”
Qin Mo wasn’t sure whether Shen Xiu would continue working in the entertainment industry as Director Shen, or return to K Corp as President Shen—or perhaps even take command at K Corp headquarters.
Shen Xiu was brought back to reality by Qin Mo’s voice. “You take care of these. I have something to do. Goodbye.”
Qin Mo: “…Goodbye, President Shen.”
He warned those vice presidents and immediately left, clearly unwilling to stay any longer. Was that all K Corp meant to President Shen?
As expected, no one understood Shen Xiu better than the Xiuologists. Even when it came to K Corp, as long as there were no major problems, Shen Xiu could ignore it indefinitely.
Shen Xiu turned and walked toward the elevator that had just arrived.
Li Nuo quickly pressed the button, and watched as Shen Xiu entered. Only after the doors closed did Li Nuo’s body, which had been tense the entire time, finally relax.
Looking at the table covered in contract files, Li Nuo asked, “Special Assistant Qin, what about these…”
Qin Mo walked over and saw several contracts that hadn’t yet been sent to the villa—flipped open and already signed.
He closed them. “Have someone from the secretarial office come up. Leave these in my office, and distribute the rest.”
“I still can’t believe it… That the legendary Boss Xiu is actually our President Shen. It’s just… mind-blowing!” After notifying the secretarial team in the group chat, Li Nuo couldn’t help but quietly sigh in amazement.
Qin Mo: “Why couldn’t he be? That signature matches the old ones exactly—how could it be wrong?”
—
An hour later, Shen Xiu arrived at the villa and headed straight for the study.
After all the evidence he’d seen at K Corp, Shen Xiu could no longer convince himself that his previous assumptions had been correct.
So this time, without hesitation, he twisted the study’s doorknob—no longer like last time, when he’d stumbled in and didn’t even dare look around.
Bang—
Shen Xiu quietly closed the door behind him, then lifted his gaze to the large display wall not far away—an entire wall covered with screens, along with countless other monitors either placed on the desk or suspended in mid-air.
Every single screen was running different programs in continuous operation.
Last time, Shen Xiu hadn’t dared to look too closely. But this time, as he examined them carefully, he realized they weren’t unfamiliar to him at all.
He took a deep breath and walked over to the room’s only black leather chair, sitting down.
“Beep…”
A familiar sound came from one of the computers on the desk. Shen Xiu still remembered that last time he had accidentally triggered something when he clicked on it.
This time, he chose to open it deliberately and began browsing through the email history.
Half an hour passed, but Shen Xiu still hadn’t finished going through all the old emails when he finally stopped—because he had realized that, whether it was the tone of the replies or the way the emails were handled, they were exactly the same as how he would have done it.
Looking at the software on that computer, Shen Xiu felt an uncanny sense—it was as if this program was another version of his brain.
His own… brain?
The disturbing thought sent a chill down his spine, and Shen Xiu, startled, finally spoke aloud to summon the system.
“System.”
But aside from his own voice, the room remained completely silent.
The system didn’t respond—just like before. When he’d entered this place previously, it hadn’t responded either.
But by all normal logic, the system was supposed to be everywhere.
Shen Xiu recalled some of the code he had seen when browsing the system’s database last time. His eyes locked onto another computer on the desk.
Maybe… he could try something.
Shen Xiu raised his hand, his slender, well-defined fingers landing on the keyboard. His ten fingers flew across the keys…
An hour later, Shen Xiu finished writing a simple program and clicked “Run.”
As the loading bar reached 100%, an icon for a simplified version of the system’s sub-module appeared on the computer screen.
Shen Xiu spoke again: “System.”
The system suddenly heard Shen Xiu’s voice. While working to fix its own bug, it still managed to respond.
[I’ve encountered a bug and am trying to fix it… Holy—wait, how, how, how are you able to summon me here…?]
The system was completely stunned, and the rest of its words trailed off into a barely audible mumble.
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