Wang Qiqi attended one class in the afternoon, then went to the library to return her borrowed books before picking up Zhang Yan to go grocery shopping for vegetables. Today, she had also decided to specifically buy ingredients for pastries, thinking she might have many occasions to thank Mark in the future.

Zhang Yan found it strange when she saw Wang Qiqi putting flour into the shopping cart. "Didn't we just buy some last week?" There was half a bag left at home; even if she wanted to stockpile, this seemed excessive, and there hadn't been any news about a price increase.

"I estimate I won't have few chances to make these for those people," Wang Qiqi thought. How much did this flour cost? For the sake of peaceful days ahead, she figured what needed to be spent should be spent. Wang Qiqi intended to buy other auxiliary ingredients too.

"Are your pastries that popular?" Zhang Yan highly rated Qiqi's baking skills, but seeing Qiqi so diligently buying flour on only her second day on the job made her worry that Qiqi might end up doing more than just baking. "If they find out you can cook..." Compared to making pastries, actual cooking was far more tedious, especially since Qiqi mentioned the team had about twenty people, meaning two tables' worth of diners. How many dishes would that require? Even if they skipped formal round tables and opted for a buffet style that Westerners preferred, Zhang Yan estimated that even with all five people currently assigned to work sharing the load, it would be quite demanding.

Wang Qiqi didn't even need to imagine it; she shivered all over as if seized by a sudden fit. "Oh my god, I'm sick." Making pastries was manageable; cooking was different—all that smoke and grease. "I don't want the meager money I earn to all end up being spent on skincare products." Women—smoke and oil were terrible for the skin. "It’s already generous of me to cook for just you few; cooking for them too?" Wang Qiqi thought that her own husband already complained during video calls that his standing wasn't as high as Manman and the others. If Han Tao knew she was also cooking for that group, he would likely riot. For the sake of his peace and her safety, Wang Qiqi abandoned the thought. "The less you do, the less you risk." Being capable doesn't mean you should shoulder excessive labor; she wasn't a professional, after all, to earn extra money through extra work.

Seeing Wang Qiqi state it so firmly, Zhang Yan naturally let out a sigh of relief. She was worried Qiqi would move the heart of the kitchen operations, and they would be the ones crying later. "Qiqi, let's go buy a hot pot stove in a bit." Zhang Yan suddenly remembered something crucial. She recalled Shi Hongrui mentioning an old-fashioned charcoal-burning hot pot stove nearby. That fool hadn't bought one home at the time, claiming it was too heavy for her to carry, which Zhang Yan found utterly speechless. Now that Qiqi had a car, they should quickly go get one.

Buy a hot pot stove? Wang Qiqi saw some vermicelli noodles and picked up two packs on impulse. "We have an induction cooker at home; why do we need a hot pot stove?" Using an induction cooker for hot pot was quite convenient; the heat could be controlled. Why spend extra money buying a separate stove? Wang Qiqi had always used either an induction cooker or a gas burner for hot pot in the past. She preferred the induction cooker—it was safer, whereas gas carried the risk of explosion.

As a true Beijing native, Zhang Yan preferred the traditional hot pot stove fueled by charcoal. "That has character; hot pot cooked with charcoal is the best." Although they had an induction cooker, nobody ever suggested using it for hot pot at home. According to old Beijingers, it just didn't have the right flavor. "It has to be the old style, cooked with charcoal."

Wang Qiqi was even less enthusiastic upon hearing that; that meant buying charcoal too, which was more hassle. Besides, wasn't that heat source harder to regulate?

"We'll need charcoal for the fireplace in winter anyway," Zhang Yan had already thought it through. "Using electricity costs money; this way, we save on electricity bills, right?"

Wang Qiqi paused. That was true. At most, she could use some of the charcoal when the fireplace was already lit. "You know how to use that thing, right?"

"Is that even a question?" Zhang Yan replied testily. "I grew up eating it; do you think I don't know how to use it?" Qiqi shouldn't ask such a silly question. "What were you so busy with over there today?" Qiqi seemed to have left early and only rushed back just before her 2 PM class. Surely, as an assistant, she shouldn't have been that busy.

"Making spreadsheets," Wang Qiqi thought. She decided an electronic list would be better for detailed tracking, allowing her to check records from long ago. Working on it made her lose track of time. "I'll need to keep track of money for lunch starting soon, so I need a ledger."

Zhang Yan was startled by what Qiqi said. "You mean you have to front the money?" Feeding that many people wasn't a small expense. How much would Qiqi have to cover? Being an assistant sounded too difficult! "Why don't they just pay for their own meals and file expense reports?" Their salaries weren't low. Even if they forgot to file, the loss wouldn't be significant to them. The Professor was known to be generous; although the portion they received personally wasn't huge after academy fees were taken out, the team generated substantial revenue annually, meaning each member got a respectable share. Qiqi, however, received a fixed hourly wage.

Looking at the agitated Zhang Yan, Wang Qiqi realized she must think Qiqi was personally footing the bill. But if her accounting wasn't perfect, she truly might have to cover costs. "There's a company credit card for use. I'll use that card for payment, but I need to prepare the detailed statements for settling up on Friday."

Only then did Zhang Yan breathe a sigh of relief. "That makes sense." Zhang Yan then felt that Qiqi's part-time job was getting heavier by the day; she wondered how many tasks it would eventually entail.

When they finally paid, Wang Qiqi split the transactions. A sudden idea struck her: maybe they should get a communal card later for utilities, heating bills, and even supermarket purchases. That way, they wouldn't have to settle accounts every weekend with people handing over cash and calculating reimbursements—it was too cumbersome. The more Wang Qiqi thought about it, the better the idea seemed.

After paying, Wang Qiqi pulled Zhang Yan aside to share her idea. Zhang Yan considered it for a moment. "That's a good plan; it'll be much simpler." Everyone contributes a fixed amount weekly, then they check the statement against the card's weekly spending and balance. It's much easier. Personal items can still be paid for individually. "We'll discuss it with the others tonight." Zhang Yan figured the rest of them would likely agree. Otherwise, reconciling accounts took ages—not because reading the statement was time-consuming, but because they had to calculate who paid what, who was owed money, and who needed to pay out, then the payers had to produce the exact amounts, often requiring change if the figures weren't round numbers. Zhang Yan often got dizzy after calculating the accounts every weekend, and the others were the same. Usually, once Qiqi finished calculating, they would just glance over the figures and pay up.

Wang Qiqi was relieved when Zhang Yan agreed. As the primary cook and procurement manager, it naturally fell to her to handle the accounting too. Wang Qiqi often felt like screaming. She had considered passing the task to Zhang Yan and the others, but they always looked at her with expressions of complete trust. While trust was nice, Qiqi genuinely wanted to slack off. However, every time she tried, they would concentrate intently on the ledger, leaving her with no recourse. Now, she felt like a complete idiot for not thinking of this sooner. If she had, she wouldn't have had to do the accounting! Maybe she could pawn the supervision duty off on Zhao Rongrong or Shi Hongrui under the guise of oversight.

Zhang Yan heard Wang Qiqi's long, drawn-out sigh and secretly chuckled. She predicted that when Qiqi brought up the new system, she would also suggest handing off the bookkeeping. The reason would be simple: with accounting simplified, she couldn't possibly handle both procurement and accounting anymore. As for the best person for the job, Zhang Yan already had someone in mind—it wouldn't be herself, and definitely not Shi Man. Zhang Yan decided that as long as it wasn't her, anyone would do, and she certainly wouldn't offer a helpful suggestion.

Wang Qiqi and Zhang Yan finally located the shop Shi Hongrui had mentioned after quite a search, finally finding the hot pot stove Zhang Yan had been longing for. The shop owner was relieved to see someone interested. "I imported ten of these from the country, and they've been sitting here for years without selling. I was about to take one home for myself if no one bought them." While using one wouldn't be bad, selling it meant profit for the merchant; otherwise, it was a loss.

"Oh, really? Are there not many Chinese people here?" Zhang Yan found it strange. There were so many Chinese people buying groceries nearby; surely, someone should recognize the value of this item.

The proprietress also thought it should sell easily but lamented how long it had taken. "Perhaps it's the hassle of using it; electricity is more convenient." An induction cooker is simple—plug it in and go. This one requires charcoal. Most people studying or working here are young, and they prefer convenience. "Are you folks from the North?" the proprietress ventured tentatively. People not from the North usually wouldn't know how to use this.

Zhang Yan smiled and nodded, taking the hot pot stove and examining it. "Madam, this price is a little high. Since it's the last one, we have no choice. We're all Chinese, so give us a discount."

"Oh, young lady, this price is practically the wholesale cost," the proprietress responded. She was very accustomed to haggling. Foreigners see marked prices and wonder why people try to bargain, but for Chinese people, bargaining is a form of enjoyment, sometimes not about the small amount of money saved, but about feeling like they got a bargain. That's why local sellers usually mark prices up slightly.

Zhang Yan and her companion acted as if they were newcomers. After a good round of negotiation, they managed to knock off twenty percent of the price, securing the item. From the proprietress's final expression, Qiqi and the others figured the price was truly at rock bottom, though she certainly wasn't selling at a loss.

"You two really know how to bargain. Come back and do more business in the future." Although the proprietress wore a look of having taken a huge loss, inwardly she thought she had finally managed to offload that dusty item. Even if the profit wasn't much, it was better than letting it sit in the shop.

"We certainly will, we certainly will." Empty promises cost nothing. Besides, if the item proves good, they would definitely return often. If it wasn't good, there would be no need to come back.

Shi Man was very surprised when Wang Qiqi and Zhang Yan returned carrying the old-style hot pot stove. "Did you go on a spending spree again today?" Buying this just for hot pot seemed excessive. "But this kind of pot really gives the right feeling. When Grandpa was alive, we always used this for hot pot." Back then, relatives still gathered as frequently as they did now, meeting every two weeks. Even eating vegetables at Grandpa's house brought joy. Since Grandpa passed, those gatherings gradually faded, and now when they met, interactions felt insincere, with people calculating every word. What Shi Man missed wasn't the hot pot itself, but the atmosphere of closeness among relatives back then.

Zhang Yan hadn't expected Shi Man, a southerner, to know about these stoves. "This pot is great! I'll prepare the dipping sauces," Zhang Yan said excitedly. Her homemade sauces were famously popular. Her own grandfather often said she only knew how to make sauces. Zhang Yan remembered telling him she would become a great cook one day, but it turned out her grandfather was right—she was truly a foodie, and her cooking skills hadn't improved at all.

Dipping sauces? Wang Qiqi was surprised that Zhang Yan, who was a self-proclaimed kitchen disaster, could make sauces. Wang Qiqi herself was terrible at making them because she disliked using sauces with hot pot, always preferring the pure flavor. Since she didn't use sauces, she hadn't thought about learning to make them.

Shi Man was quite surprised. "You can make those too?" But then again, making sauces wasn't overly complicated, so it wasn't surprising Zhang Yan could manage it. "How are yours? Don't tell me they taste bad." Shi Man was very direct. While perhaps a bit tactless, it was better than Qiqi making something she disliked and then trying to force her to eat it.

Hearing Shi Man’s blatant expression of doubt, Zhang Yan snorted proudly a few times. "Later, you'll be begging me to make sauces for you all the time!" How could she praise herself before anyone tasted them? "Just because I'm not good at main dishes doesn't mean I can't produce two respectable specialties."

Wang Qiqi shot Shi Man a look upon hearing her bluntness. This girl could be something else. In Qiqi’s view, regardless of the actual quality of the food, the willingness to cook for someone was commendable; why be so critical?

Shi Man gave an awkward chuckle. Then she noticed Wang Qiqi lugging in bags of flour. "Don't we already have a lot at home?" She then saw the pile of pastry ingredients and understood. But she pressed, "Are you seriously going to be cooking for those people all the time?" If that were the case, Shi Man felt Qiqi's salary wasn't nearly enough—working herself ragged and barely being home. "Then you really shouldn't be staying late for overtime."

Zhang Yan looked at Shi Man standing by the door, showing no inclination to help. "Aren't you going to lend a hand? You bought so much stuff." She was just preoccupied with the stove. "By the way, what about Rongrong and the others?" They only had classes until 2 PM today; why hadn't they returned yet? Were they still at the library, or what? More importantly, were they coming back for dinner?

Shi Man huffed an acknowledgment and casually dropped the stove by the doorway. "They have some kind of event today." She had to admit, Shi Hongrui seemed to navigate social circles better. Having started school at the same time, they were already quite familiar with their classmates. Shi Man still couldn't reliably identify her classmates, and could barely exchange a few words with them, let alone participate in activities. "They just told us to save them a plate, I guess." When Shi Man first saw the stove, an idea popped into her head to just have hot pot that night. But realizing Zhao Rongrong and the others weren't around, eating hot pot with just three people seemed uninteresting, and it was bad form to leave food uneaten.

Wang Qiqi frowned when she heard they weren't eating dinner. "I was looking forward to hot pot tonight. Why don't you call and ask them when they'll be back? If it's not too late, we can eat something simple first." That would be a good time to make the pastries for Mark.

Shi Man's spirits lifted upon hearing Qiqi's plan for hot pot, giving her more energy to move things. "Great, I'll call them in a bit. Oh, Qiqi, how was your first official day?" Yesterday was just an orientation, not really hands-on work; today should have been Qiqi's proper start.

"I washed six coffee machines, cleaned the main hall twice, and shredded over a hundred sheets of paper." Although some of the papers had nothing sensitive on them, regulations required all discarded paper to be run through the shredder after being officially handed over to Qiqi. Even though it was an automatic shredder, Qiqi had to feed the paper in slowly. She suspected this wasn't important work and that once she settled in, this would become her long-term task. The thought of operating that shredder for extended periods made Wang Qiqi dizzy. "I was also in charge of ordering meals and procuring office supplies." MAY had laid this out: procurement was roughly once a month unless something was urgent. They had fixed suppliers, and Qiqi's job was just to coordinate with them; the supplies would be delivered on time, and Qiqi would handle the payment.

This assistant role sounded quite weighty. "You really are important; you even handle the payroll." Though she wasn't learning any specialized skills. "Will there be more tasks?" The duties mentioned yesterday had already grown by today; she wondered if there would be more tomorrow.

Wang Qiqi thought for a moment. "Probably that's it. As for the salary, it’s the base pay. The Professor calculates everything, and I won't be told about the commission structure." How could they let her know about something so sensitive? Didn't foreigners favor salary secrecy? Base pay was straightforward, but the commission was the main chunk. If that leaked out carelessly, it could cause many problems, and Wang Qiqi wanted no part in such thankless work.

As for Shi Man’s concerns, Wang Qiqi hadn't been idle today either. She had thoroughly cleaned many areas on the first floor and concluded that they probably wouldn't add much more to her load. "If they add more tasks, I suspect they want me to take over everything." Before meeting the team, Wang Qiqi might have considered herself a reborn person with insight into the future. But after chatting with them briefly and grasping their glowing accomplishments, any arrogance she possessed evaporated. She finally understood why so many people wanted to join this team but so few succeeded—the pressure was immense. Wang Qiqi decided she should just live her life quietly. "I’m not a powerhouse; I'm just a simple woman." Her ambitions were modest: hoping for a free life, leisurely sipping afternoon tea, and not spending so extravagantly that it became a burden.

Shi Man felt a wave of frustration hearing Wang Qiqi express such a lack of ambition. "Where did your old aspirations go? The Qiqi I know isn't like this."

Wang Qiqi knew Shi Man thought she was very capable, but Qiqi knew her own limitations, largely relying on having been reborn. "Compared to your Old Feng, I’m inferior. To put it bluntly, even though some of those people are just university students, the projects they handle are beyond anything Old Feng could access." Over the past two days, Wang Qiqi hadn't just been sitting idle; she had researched the Professor's team in detail. As her understanding deepened, she felt increasingly shocked. Yet, she couldn't figure out why the Professor, with such excellent abilities and connections, hadn't gone independent. Wang Qiqi was certain that if he simply put his name out there, countless people would flock to him; he wouldn't have to worry about a lack of manpower. So why did he remain tucked away in the university, merely being a professor focused on teaching? Wang Qiqi truly couldn't comprehend it, aside from attributing it to a matter of 'realm' or 'level'—there was no other explanation. "They are all elites."

Wang Qiqi couldn't forget the group who looked like picture-perfect elites in the morning, yet by lunchtime, their image of 'elite' was completely shattered. However, if Qiqi were to see them again the next day after certain events, she would certainly marvel that they looked quite elite again. "They talk so fast, spewing professional jargon one after another!" Even though the topics during lunch weren't critical, they didn't spare their mealtime discussions, which left Wang Qiqi astounded. Of course, she was confident in her own professional coursework; they often stressed that failing to improve one's professional level was a problem. As for whether her own thesis would pass, Wang Qiqi wasn't sure. Being an assistant didn't mean the Professor would lower his standards for her; if anything, he might raise the bar.

Hearing Wang Qiqi’s description, Shi Man gave her a sympathetic look. But as her gaze landed on the hot pot stove, she remembered something vital. "Qiqi, do we have any charcoal at home?" Using this stove required charcoal; what if they didn't have any?

Wang Qiqi and Zhang Yan stared blankly. On the way over, they had been so focused on discussing the hot pot, the dishes they needed, that they completely forgot the most crucial element. "Do we have any charcoal left?"

"Didn't we buy some for the barbecue last time? There should be some charcoal remaining, right?" Zhang Yan wasn't entirely certain, as they had bought one batch of charcoal but used it for several barbecues, so she wasn't sure of the current stock.

Shi Man immediately dashed to the garage, and a moment later, a wail echoed out, "Ahhh, we're out of charcoal."

Well, Zhang Yan and Wang Qiqi now understood that tonight's hot pot dinner was hanging by a thread. Fortunately, the failure to have hot pot didn't stop them from eating dinner; it just meant Qiqi would be a bit busier. Of course, the upside was preparing more food, which would cover tomorrow's lunch. All things considered, the workload level remained about the same.

Then, Wang Qiqi watched Shi Man sprint back into the living room, grabbing the phone to make a call. As soon as the line connected, Shi Man rattled off a quick, urgent request to buy charcoal for the hot pot before hanging up. "There, finally settled," Wang Qiqi clapped her hands, feeling much relieved.

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