Quick Transmigration: Don't Let That Cannon Fodder Go

Chapter 221 Song Lala's Job Hunting Diary 11

The team leader paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "I don't need to sit. It's fine, it'll be quick."

Song Xianyin ignored him and just sat next to him and listened to him.

Song Xianyin frowned. Was she being too sensitive, or was he doing it on purpose?

She glanced at the people around her, but no one reacted.

After teaching her, the team leader went to teach another intern. This time, he leaned down, and the two were even closer.

He was practically speaking right next to the girl's cheek.

Song Xianyin frowned deeply; this team leader had absolutely no sense of boundaries.

She doesn't like the team leader.

"Is Ayin cold?"

When Song Xianyin turned the air conditioner up again, the team leader asked with a smile.

Song Xianyin nodded: "The air conditioning is too low."

She was wearing a coat but still felt cold. Is that reasonable?

She used to have the air conditioning set to 16 degrees Celsius at school because she was really afraid of the heat, but she found it cold when she started working here.

The other girls also felt cold; it was clearly short-sleeved weather, but they were all wearing wool coats.

But surprisingly, not a single person raised any objection.

Before ten minutes had even passed, the team leader laughed and said, "It's too hot here, let me turn it down a bit."

The air conditioner was once again set to a low temperature that most people in the office were not used to.

Song Xianyin: ...

He's the only one using the air conditioner.

Song Xianyin held her breath; her legs were trembling from the cold.

While she was in the bathroom, she turned the air conditioning up again.

The team leader looked up at her and sighed.

"Are you cold?" he asked, looking at the other girls in the office.

The girl next to me nodded: "It was indeed a bit cold just now, so I put on a sweater."

The team leader said helplessly, "Are girls that afraid of the cold?"

He went straight to another office and sat down.

Near the end of the workday in the afternoon, the team leader came to teach Song Xianyin something again.

Song Xianyin glanced at the time on the computer screen, her expression turning somewhat unpleasant.

Why teach her right before she's about to leave work? They just want her to work overtime, but they don't even pay her overtime.

"Ayin, finish this form before you leave work," the team leader said before leaving.

Song Xianyin held her breath and pressed the keyboard hard.

So annoying!

In the end, there were hardly any people left in the office.

The team leader walked up to Song Xianyin, bent down, and wrapped his arms around her as before.

Song Xianyin's hand was on the mouse when the team leader casually placed his hand on hers.

"You can't do that, you have to..."

“My hand is still there.” Song Xianyin stared at him intently.

The team leader was stunned for a moment, not quite understanding: "What?"

Song Xianyin said, word by word, "My hand was still on the mouse, and you grabbed my hand."

The team leader's face flushed red, and he quickly moved away from Song Xianyin: "I'm sorry, Ah Yin, I didn't realize it. I've always been like this, don't overthink it."

Song Xianyin looked at him with a forced smile: "I thought you were sexually harassing me, team leader."

"How could that be? I'm not that kind of person. I really didn't notice..."

"I was just kidding, team leader. Don't be nervous, okay? I just like to crack little jokes," Song Xianyin said with a smile.

The team leader breathed a sigh of relief: "Ayin, you can't do that again..."

"The team leader was so nervous, I almost thought he was actually going to sexually harass me."

She was truly impressed by Brother Qin, who couldn't even see a hand on the mouse despite having four eyes.

Let's not call him Brother Qin anymore, let's call him Beast Qin.

The team leader seemed to care a lot about this matter and kept explaining it to Song Xianyin all night, but Song Xianyin didn't reply to a word.

She wouldn't take such a thing to heart.

After taking a shower, Song Xianyin lay down and video-called her mother. Her mother started feeling sorry for capitalists again, and Song Xianyin refuted her point by point.

"Bosses these days are really pitiful. Do you know how expensive the rent is for their offices?"

"Aren't the workers demanding their wages at the foot of the building pitiful? Aren't the cleaners owed wages pitiful?" Song Xianyin yawned.

Song's mother choked up: "They are all pitiful, but the boss's pitifulness is different. He has to pay other people's wages. Ordinary people can just quit whenever they want."

Song Xianyin scrolled through videos and lazily replied, "Which ordinary person can just quit like that? Most people have elderly parents and young children to support. Do you think they dare not to do it?"

Mrs. Song was furious: "I didn't say these people aren't pitiful, but the boss is more pitiful because he has more responsibility."

“Then he shouldn’t be the boss, let me be the boss.” Song Xianyin turned over.

I love the feeling of making others angry without taking it to heart at all, even if it's her mother.

Mrs. Song muttered, "You always think those bosses are no good."

Song Xianyin showed her the tattoo on her hand on her phone.

"Does it look good?"

Song's mother leaned closer to the screen: "Wow, this design is quite nice, did you put it on?"

Song Xianyin raised her hand and waved it: "No, I got it tattooed. I got it at a tattoo shop."

Song's mother pursed her lips: "I don't believe you. You're so afraid of pain."

He lied to her every day.

Song Xianyin smiled and said, "Isn't it pretty? It's quite expensive."

Song's mother chuckled and said, "Is this some kind of belated rebellious phase? Why are you suddenly doing all this now?"

Song Xianyin was so sleepy she could barely keep her eyes open. Maybe it really was a rebellious phase; she suddenly wanted to try these things.

Song's mother looked at her with some heartache: "Alright, alright, stop talking. Go to sleep. You're going to die of exhaustion if you sleep so late every day."

Song Xianyin closed her eyes and silently responded in her heart, "You jinx."

The next day, the team leader didn't contact Song Xianyin at all that morning.

He looked for the people in front of her, to her left and to her right, but not for her.

Since no one assigned her any work, Song Xianyin started slacking off at her workstation—memorizing vocabulary.

There's a thrill in studying secretly, and she doesn't know if it's just her imagination, but she feels like she memorizes words much more firmly this way.

The manager looked at Song Xianyin's screen several times, but it was always the same page.

She asked in confusion, "Didn't the team leader assign you any work?"

Song Xianyin shook her head: "No, Manager."

The manager nodded, said nothing, and left.

A short while later, the manager finally arrived.

He habitually bent down and wrapped his arms around Song Xianyin, but his voice suddenly stopped when he saw the tattoo on her hand.

Song Xianyin could clearly feel his gaze lingering on her.

Song Xianyin frowned. What?

The team leader withdrew his hand, maintaining a certain distance from her, and began to talk to her about today's work.

This afternoon was perfectly normal.

When Song Xianyin was taking the subway home, she was holding onto the handrail when two elderly people next to her noticed the tattoo on her hand.

They exchanged a glance and silently moved to the side.