I will now translate and then artistically polish the provided Chinese text into natural, fluent, and idiomatic English fiction, preserving the original paragraph structure and line breaks exactly as requested.

Wang Qiqi fully expected Shi Man to come looking for her immediately after receiving the news from Dai Lijun, but days passed without a single reproachful call or even a hint of confrontation when they met online.

Wang Qiqi knew Dai Lijun wouldn't lie; he definitely would have informed Shi Man, leaving her utterly baffled.

She wondered if Shi Man’s computer had broken down, maybe sent out for repairs, causing the chat history—and Dai Lijun's message—to be lost.

After days of agonizing over it, Wang Qiqi finally confessed what had happened that day.

Shi Man's reply infuriated her; it turned out Shi Man had known the very next day.

Initially, Shi Man had planned to unleash a barrage of calls or messages, but after seeing Han Tao’s final update confirming Qiqi had arrived home safely, she shelved that impulse.

However, letting Qiqi off easily was out of the question.

Shi Man figured Dai Lijun would surely tell Qiqi that she had been informed.

This way, Wang Qiqi would anticipate a dressing-down.

Shi Man decided to feign ignorance, which, as events unfolded, was precisely the tactic that kept Wang Qiqi most uneasy.

Seeing Shi Man’s reply, Wang Qiqi had only one thought: Shi Man had turned mean, punishing her in such a roundabout way.

But she wouldn't be foolish enough to voice her discontent, as that would only encourage Shi Man to recruit others to join the lecture.

Instead, Wang Qiqi tucked away her annoyance and began discussing the part-time translation work she had recently found with Shi Man.

At first, she hadn't mentioned it, unsure of the difficulty level, but after reviewing several drafts, Wang Qiqi realized she could easily share some of the workload with Manman, especially since she herself was under considerable financial strain.

Initially, Shi Man was reluctant.

She knew Qiqi would only assign her the easier jobs.

Usually, these translation batches mixed difficult work with simpler tasks, with the pay averaged out.

For the truly difficult pieces, even if Shi Man felt confident, she worried about making mistakes that could jeopardize the deadline and incur huge liabilities.

Only after extensive persuasion did Shi Man finally agree, much to Wang Qiqi’s relief.

Domestic translation orders seemed to be picking up, and the money Manman earned from her purchasing trips was being split among everyone, making Wang Qiqi feel Shi Man was getting the short end of the stick.

What Wang Qiqi didn't know was that after their chat ended, Shi Man stared at her computer for a long time.

She understood this was Qiqi’s way of making amends.

Truthfully, though she hadn't told the others, Shi Man handled a lot of the procurement, yet everyone split the money equally.

Anyone would feel slighted; running errands deserved some extra compensation, right? But they had been friends for so many years; Shi Man wasn't about to bring up such petty unfairness over minor funds.

Moreover, Shi Man wasn't naive; she wouldn't fret over pocket change, and deep down, she held a conviction that a restructuring was inevitable sooner or later.

With Shi Man’s help, the tasks were completed much faster.

Wang Qiqi had been slightly worried if the translation agency was truly just a small operation, as Han Tao had suggested, but the volume of work was surprisingly decent—five or six moderately difficult orders a day, for instance.

Honestly, Wang Qiqi was quite curious.

Logically, that volume should sustain a proper business, so why was Mary keeping the agency confined to her home, giving the impression it wasn’t entirely legitimate? Although Wang Qiqi had only stood at the doorway that day, peering through the glass, she sensed it was merely a residence, entirely lacking any professional office setup.

But all that was immaterial to Wang Qiqi.

As far as she was concerned, as long as she was paid on time, Mary was a good boss; nothing else mattered.

Wang Qiqi figured all task assignments and submissions happened via email, and payments were transferred directly to the bank, making any further personal meetings highly unlikely.

Wang Qiqi’s thoughts were pleasant, but to Mary, the young woman she had reluctantly accepted when staffing became critically tight had turned into an immense surprise.

The work was delivered quickly and flawlessly.

Recalling the young woman’s claim about her previous translation experience in China, Mary truly believed her.

The immediate next thought, however, was finalizing a contract.

Even though Qiqi hadn't started her studies in the States yet, it was bound to happen.

Mary felt the girl was succeeding under her wing due to her unique circumstances—few others would offer her such an opportunity.

Yet, Mary believed that as long as the compensation wasn't overtly exploitative, this girl wasn't the type to jump ship for a different employer.

Specifics, however, needed to be discussed in person, which was why Mary tracked down Wang Qiqi using the address she had provided.

Hearing someone calling from downstairs, Wang Qiqi groggily looked out the window.

Normally, no one sought her out, and Shi Man certainly wouldn't visit.

Curiosity piqued, she peered out and saw Mary, one of her employers, standing below next to a small sedan—clearly there to find her.

Wang Qiqi was stunned.

Why was she here? She assumed her submitted drafts were fine; Mary had even praised her quality and speed just yesterday.

There were no professional issues, so why the visit? Wang Qiqi certainly didn't believe her boss had driven all this way just to discuss a raise.

Despite her confusion about Mary’s intentions, Wang Qiqi called down, “Wait for me a moment.” Hard to enjoy a lazy morning sleep-in, she thought, only to be caught by someone.

Must it be this tragic? Mary hadn't anticipated Wang Qiqi was only just waking up; she had already driven for two hours.

But that wasn't important; the main thing was finding her.

Driving through the neighborhood and recalling her prior scouting, Mary knew that even renting here implied a certain level of capability.

People residing in this complex weren't short on cash; renting here wasn't something done out of dire financial need.

Wang Qiqi quickly managed her personal grooming and changed into presentable attire.

“Hello, Mary,” she greeted, ushering Mary upstairs, offering her a cold drink, and then sitting quietly beside her without speaking.

The strategy was clear: wait for Mary to speak first before formulating any response.

Mary thanked her, took a few sips, placed the drink on the coffee table, and said, “I’ve come to discuss a few matters.

We only reached a preliminary understanding before; the contract wasn't signed.

I’m here today specifically for that.” A contract? Wang Qiqi finally understood the purpose of Mary’s visit.

She must have been very satisfied with her work, especially from someone who always submitted drafts promptly.

“You mean, even if I return to China, we can continue working together?” Although this outcome was within Wang Qiqi’s expectations, anyone would be thrilled to hear such good news.

It meant Mary trusted her, though perhaps it was also out of necessity.

Mary nodded.

“Yes.

Do you have any thoughts regarding compensation?” Compensation? Wang Qiqi mused that even if she had concerns, she certainly wouldn't voice them directly to Mary’s face.

Besides, Mary was bold enough to hire her in the first place; someone else might not have.

“I don’t have many strong opinions.

I'll be heading back after the summer anyway; the money saved is just money saved.” Hearing Wang Qiqi express no objections to the terms, Mary gained some clarity on her concerns.

However, she was confident she could persuade Wang Qiqi to stay unless the terms were truly mercenary.

“Here are the contract terms; please review them.” Mary produced a contract she had prepared earlier.

Wang Qiqi took the contract and examined it closely.

It detailed payment schedules—for instance, payment upon delivery of ten translated orders, which Qiqi readily accepted.

There was also a clause regarding penalties for delayed submissions, which she also agreed to, as it matched their prior discussion.

The contract term was one year, with compensation to be renegotiated upon renewal.

Most importantly, the document contained no exclusivity clause stating she could only work for one translation service.

Wang Qiqi flipped through the slim document several times, found no issues, and signed her name.

Mary watched Wang Qiqi scrutinize the contract, occasionally asking questions, and then simply sign it.

“Aren’t you having a lawyer review it?” Although Mary had already had her own lawyer look it over, she wondered if Wang Qiqi was trusting her that completely.

Wang Qiqi had completely forgotten about lawyers.

Right, this is abroad, not back home.

But what difference did it make now that she had signed? Could she renege? Furthermore, she didn't believe Mary was the type to set a trap.

She wasn't foolish; surely Mary had had this contract vetted by counsel already.

“I’m here to make you money; you wouldn’t pull any dirty tricks, would you? I see no problem with this contract, so why bother with a lawyer?” Lawyer fees weren't cheap.

Dirty tricks? Mary didn't grasp the meaning, wondering if it implied malice.

“Rest assured, when I cooperate with people, it comes down to trust.

You saw my translation agency the other day; were you very surprised?” Wang Qiqi hadn’t intended to comment, but since her boss brought it up, she nodded with a smile.

“If I hadn't double-checked the address, I truly would have thought I’d gone to the wrong place.

On the way back, I kept wondering if I could stay long at your agency, considering your company…” It looked more like a small workshop; one wouldn't expect many clients.

Wang Qiqi’s candor surprised Mary slightly.

She had dealt with mainland Chinese before, often finding them overly humble, which sometimes felt inauthentic.

But this girl had been bold enough to seek her out alone, and speaking so directly to her benefactor was remarkable.

“You truly don’t seem like a typical Chinese person; you feel like someone who’s lived abroad for a long time.” Wang Qiqi knew that in China, bluntly criticizing her boss’s struggling business to her face would likely earn her many enemies, but here, it earned what felt like praise.

“I was just being honest.” Wang Qiqi thought she had no reason to fear Mary now; she was in a secure position.

“I used to run a much larger operation, but after my divorce, I reorganized and reconnected with old clients to stay in the business.

Since my child isn’t very big, I have to take care of her.” Mary spoke frankly, wanting to instill some confidence in the girl working under her, knowing she had been vetting Qiqi as Qiqi had been vetting her.

“Once the child is older…” Mary was uncertain whether she even wanted to expand the translation agency; the pressure would increase immensely.

Keeping the company at home kept overhead extremely low.

Expanding meant hiring receptionists, support staff, and leasing office space—expenses that weren't trivial.

Wang Qiqi hadn't expected Mary to be divorced, and judging by her tone, it sounded like her ex-husband had been unfaithful.

Wang Qiqi thought, Not again—how come both my bosses are divorced? Li Xiangdong, the first one, divorced due to cheating, and Mary was divorced because her ex-husband cheated.

“The size of the company doesn't really matter; what's important is the number of clients and translators you have.” Wang Qiqi secretly hoped the company wouldn't expand, as she might not remain as valued.

A selfish thought, perhaps, but a normal one.

“Actually, I took this part-time job because we recently bought a house in the States and need to make mortgage payments.” Wang Qiqi revealed her reason for seeking extra work, believing this would show Mary her sincere commitment to the arrangement.

Mortgage payments? Buying a house? Mary looked at Wang Qiqi in surprise, noticing her gaze was steady, confirming the truth of the statement.

This piece of information finally resolved Mary’s lingering doubts about why someone who didn't appear short of money was so focused on earnings.

“You bought a house?” Good heavens, many Americans in their thirties were still renting and hadn't even considered buying property.

How could this young woman, who hadn't even officially moved to the US, already be thinking of home ownership? “Yes.” Wang Qiqi understood Mary’s surprise.

Several colleagues at Han Tao’s workplace still rented; for them, renting was often easier than buying, avoiding property taxes and simplifying logistics when transferring jobs.

“It’s a foothold for us.” In countries with generous social welfare, owning property wasn't everything, but as a Chinese person, the deep-seated yearning for a home of one’s own was powerful.

Wang Qiqi wanted a space where she could settle securely, knowing no one could kick her out.

“That’s true.

My father always told me the same thing—you must have a place of your own.” Mary hadn't always agreed with her father, feeling his mindset was outdated, but after experiencing her own setbacks, she fully respected his counsel.

If not for his nagging, many things might have taken a detrimental turn.

“My father was a first-generation immigrant; I am second generation.” She had never visited China, relying only on her father’s stories and the news for her understanding of the country.

Mary had intended to sign the contract and leave, but she suddenly felt it would be too detached.

Hearing Wang Qiqi mention buying a house, she began sharing tips she had gathered from renovating her own place and furnishing it.

Wang Qiqi had overseen the renovation of several houses in China, but this was her first in the US, leaving her with zero experience.

Mary’s advice proved invaluable, directing her to shops where she could source materials at better prices.

As Wang Qiqi and Mary were engrossed in discussion, Wang Qiqi’s stomach staged a protest.

She hadn't eaten all day, and if it didn't complain now, something would be wrong.

“Stay for lunch, why don’t you?” “I wouldn’t refuse,” Mary replied, recalling her father’s comments about Chinese girls being inherently virtuous, with cooking being one of the most fundamental domestic skills.

Wang Qiqi checked the refrigerator’s inventory.

“I can make Cola Chicken Wings and use up some beef—it’ll be a little spicy.

Are you okay with that?” It wasn't fiercely hot, but some people couldn't handle any spice.

“I’ll eat,” Mary paused.

“But not too spicy.” It had been ages since she tasted authentic Chinese food.

She remembered how her father used to cook a couple of his signature dishes on weekends when she was little; the flavor was unforgettable.

She regretted not learning how back then, as cooking seemed too much trouble.

Outside Chinese restaurants either served inauthentic flavors or charged exorbitant prices, making frequent visits unsustainable.

Wang Qiqi gave an "OK" gesture and started cooking.

Spotting potatoes, a third dish was immediately added, followed by a Tomato and Mushroom Soup.

For the staple, she decided on Yangzhou Fried Rice.

When Wang Qiqi announced the final menu, Mary was even happier, smiling broadly.

Mary sat at the table, watching Wang Qiqi skillfully chop vegetables, wash them, and place them in the wok—appearing perfectly capable of managing two dishes simultaneously.

“You are so domestically capable.

No wonder my father was never satisfied with me,” she remarked.

Good grades, earning money, and excellent housekeeping—Mary was convinced, completely trusting everything her father used to say.

“Your man is very fortunate.

No, all Chinese men are fortunate.” Whether other men were fortunate, Wang Qiqi didn't know, but she wholeheartedly agreed about her own man’s fortune.

“Not many girls in China are this capable these days,” she countered, noting how assertive many had become, yet never hesitated to spend their men’s money.

Soon, the aroma of cooking filled the apartment.

Mary inhaled the familiar scent.

“Qiqi, your cooking must be wonderful.” Even before tasting it, it carried the scent of her father’s kitchen.

“Qiqi, will you teach me how to cook?” Mary watched Wang Qiqi intently at the stove, observing the entire process.

While Qiqi called these simple dishes, Mary felt they were tasks far beyond her own current ability.

Teach cooking? Wang Qiqi shuddered, recalling the memories of Lu Qiaowei teaching Dai Lijun and her own attempts to teach Shi Man—a memory best left untouched.

“Cooking requires a certain affinity, really.

You can’t master it just because you want to learn.” Wang Qiqi recounted her past experiences teaching friends to cook, and as expected, she saw Mary’s face turn slightly pale.

Mary weighed her love for Chinese food against the effort required to learn, deciding it was better to concede.

At most, she would maintain a good relationship with Wang Qiqi and hope for an occasional invitation to a delicious meal.

She no longer had the endless free time she once possessed; she had too many matters to handle and bills to pay.

“It seems I don’t have a strong affinity for Chinese cuisine.” Hearing Mary dismiss the idea herself, Wang Qiqi breathed a sigh of relief.

Even if she had seen Mary’s cooking was terrible, she wouldn’t dare scold her boss directly, but teaching was still required.

Wang Qiqi absolutely did not want to invite unnecessary trouble.

For the next while, Mary simply watched Wang Qiqi cook, fighting the urge to complain as the smells intensified.

When she saw Wang Qiqi pour Coke into the pot with the chicken wings, she was astonished.

“You can cook with that?” She simply couldn't reconcile the idea of stewing cola and chicken wings together; the disparity was too vast.

“Rest assured, it’s absolutely delicious.

By the way, do you like sweet things?” Wang Qiqi asked while adding sugar.

“I can manage, but not too sweet.” Mary stared at the pot in disbelief, still unable to connect the two ingredients.

“I make this dish all the time.

My husband’s colleague specifically orders it.” Wang Qiqi couldn't help but smile thinking about the money she’d made from this dish, especially remembering Dai Lijun’s excited comment about how, once Lu Qiaowei arrived, he wouldn’t have to worry about supporting the family or affording a car or house.

If necessary, Weiwei could just start a home-based Chinese takeout service; they could certainly secure customers.

“We make this dish several times a week at home.” Making it that often eased Mary’s remaining apprehension.

If it weren't good, Wang Qiqi surely wouldn't waste money preparing it repeatedly.

All her worries vanished the moment Mary tasted the Cola Chicken Wings.

She ate one wing while simultaneously giving Wang Qiqi a firm thumbs-up, signaling her approval.

Wang Qiqi hadn’t managed to eat a single wing; Mary had consumed nearly the entire plate herself.

By the time Mary finally came back to her senses, she noticed there was only one chicken wing left on the plate.

She glanced up at Wang Qiqi, realizing she hadn't been polite at all; Wang Qiqi didn't even have a single bone left in front of her. "Go ahead and eat it.

I’m actually a little tired of it now," Wang Qiqi wasn't being falsely modest.

Although most of her work involved takeout, the mere scent of this food was starting to make her nauseous, let alone eating it. "Really? Then I won't stand on ceremony," Mary, hearing Wang Qiqi say that, unceremoniously picked up the last wing.

Such delicious food should be eaten as much as one possibly could; who knew when she’d get the chance to try it again.