Filled with a sense of purpose regarding the Legion and the future, Ziye felt a significant bolstering in her heart and turned to Little Sprout, asking, "How are the mechas selling this season? The cash flow won't break, right?"

The Mengya Group had been experiencing excellent momentum lately.

However, it had a super money-sucking backbone: the Wolf's Den.

The Wolf's Den was currently in its initial construction phase, demanding expenditure everywhere.

The Wolf's Den only housed three subsidiaries: the Mining Group, the Mengya Group, and the Rose Garden. The Mining Group was still in its infancy, requiring massive injections of capital and equipment, leaving no spare funds for now; although the Rose Garden was profitable and mature, its market penetration wasn't broad enough, so the bulk of the financial burden fell to the Mengya Group.

What was most frustrating was the recent influx of pirated Mengya Group robots on the black market. Not only were they cheap, but they also boasted features so shocking they were hard to look at, effectively snatching away a significant portion of the market.

Big Head wanted to investigate the black market's depths, but burdened with the title of Deputy Director, he had a mountain of issues to resolve and hadn't found suitable personnel yet.

A labor shortage...

Ziye sighed deeply.

Little Sprout flapped its wings and chirped cheerfully, "Mother Ziye, do you want the truth or the lie?"

Ziye's heart skipped a beat. "The lie, please. At least it might offer some comfort."

Little Sprout chuckled, executing a beautiful spin in mid-air before landing on her head. It opened a light screen, balancing it with its wings, and pondered, "The lie is that this quarter's mecha sales have increased by 8% compared to last quarter, advanced customization for our robots has seized fifty-seven percent of the market share, making us first in sales this quarter. After deducting basic operational costs, we can transfer one billion in funds to the Wolf's Den."

Hmm, that sounded quite promising.

But, "Wouldn't one billion be too much?"

To establish a firm foothold in the market, technology-focused enterprises required sustained, substantial investment to keep pace with—or even outpace—market evolution; otherwise, they risked rapid obsolescence. If too much capital was diverted to the Wolf's Den, the Mengya Group's cash flow could easily snap. She had been worrying about this lately, afraid to spend even the money in her own bank account carelessly.

Little Sprout poked her cheek with its sproutling: "I told you it was a lie!"

Ziye deflated. "Then tell me the truth."

Little Sprout zoomed into her embrace with a whoosh, enlarging the light screen and placing it before her. After reviewing the data, Ziye felt a faint melancholy. She had to admit, the system was excessively thorough. Monthly, quarterly, and annual sales figures and profits were all laid bare, with the cost price of every model glaringly obvious. Comparing this quarter's profit to the last, and then examining individual models, she discovered this quarter's total profit was down 5% from the previous one, and the two unprofitable models listed were both her creations. She pulled up all her work from the past nine years; the profit margins increased with each successive piece. Yet, her only two pieces this quarter showed profits that decreased sequentially. Beneath her entries was a note from the Chief Financial Officer: Control costs.

Little Sprout risked further admonishment, "Silly Ziye, I’ve already created a cost budgeting system you can use in the future."

Ziye playfully pinched its cheek in mock anger, though inwardly, she was quite pleased. Little Sprout recognized her weakness and immediately devised a way to compensate. With such a dedicated optical computer, what more could she ask for?

The only thing that made her feel awkward was Nine Years.

Nine Years had been through quite a lot too. Rumor had it that the entire design department building was often occupied by him alone. Whatever his original motives for joining, his commitment to this point, bringing so much profit to the Mengya Group, warranted her gratitude.

With this thought, Ziye initiated a high-speed call to Nine Years.

Nine Years was utterly astonished; to describe his reaction in four words: tears of joy streamed down his face as he wailed, "Ziye, you finally remembered poor Nine Years!"

Ziye was nearly thrown off balance by the volume of his voice and quickly lowered the call's sound, asking, "How is the Design Department faring?"

Nine Years made a gesture of wiping away tears. "Not well at all."

Ziye inquired, "What's the problem?"

Nine Years looked at her with the expression of someone blinded by weeping. "You are the Design Director, yet you haven't appeared in the office for two full months! Can you possibly disappear for any longer?"

Ziye scratched her head sheepishly; this was indeed her dereliction of duty. In fact, she felt Nine Years was far better suited to be the Design Director. He was professional, dedicated, and one of the most renowned designers in the galaxy—to have him reduced to a mere foot soldier in the Mengya Group felt deeply unfair to him.

Ziye offered a strained laugh. "I'll speak with the Executive President and arrange for you to take over as Design Director from now on, alright?"

Nine Years bristled, his hair seemingly standing on end. "Do you think I care about your Design Director title?"

Ziye: "...I apologize."

Nine Years slumped his face mournfully. "I just want to see you! Is that so difficult? I even went to Kaga's Sea Tower today! Damn it, it's just a mecha competition—how can you stay away from the office for almost two months? I despise you!"

Ziye froze. "You're at the Sea Tower? Where in the Sea Tower? I'll come find you."

Nine Years scoffed. "I couldn't stay there for two minutes! A crowd of overrated frauds!"

Ziye’s face darkened. They always said designers had unconventional minds; Nine Years was certainly a professional-grade example! She tried to placate him. "Then, I'll return to the design headquarters tomorrow to check things out."

Nine Years grumbled noncommittally, "That's more like it."

After hanging up, Ziye immediately called Black Beard to check on the general situation and inquire specifically about Nine Years.

Black Beard also held Nine Years in high regard. "He truly is a rare talent. I was worried he wouldn't settle down in our small corner of the universe. In reality, he's been much better than I anticipated."

Ziye said, "How about you let me resign as Design Director? I genuinely feel awkward continuing to hold a position without earning it."

Black Beard paused in silence.

Ziye elaborated, "I already hold the title of Strategic Weapons Director for the Wolf's Den anyway, so it doesn't matter much. Furthermore, consider this: most people in the group are external hires. If they see the comparative data between my performance and Nine Years' on the reports, they'll think the group is being unfair. Removing me could serve as a cautionary example—it would warn the Wolf's Den personnel against complacency, and it would show the Mengya Group values ability over connections."

Black Beard mused, "I understand your perspective. You are also a very gifted individual. How about this: you return tomorrow, and the few of us can discuss it?"

Ziye nodded. "Agreed."

After ending the call, Ziye held up Little Sprout’s sproutling. "Let's go back to the Mengya headquarters tomorrow, okay?"

Little Sprout, however, wasn't as excited as usual, shaking its head. "Tomorrow, let's go see Great Demon Tang, okay?"

Huh? Had Little Sprout suddenly developed an infatuation elsewhere? Ziye put on a stern face. "Are you so comfortable with him that you've forgotten me?"

Little Sprout flapped its wings in distress. "Of course not! I just feel like we can go to the headquarters anytime, but if Great Demon Tang goes back home, it'll be hard to find him."

Ziye was taken aback. "Where is his home?"

Little Sprout shook its head like a rattle drum. "I don't know." It burrowed into her embrace, nuzzling insistently. "Actually, Great Demon Tang is very pitiful. And he was looking at you the whole time just now, and you didn't even look at him once..."

Hearing this, Ziye’s entire body stiffened. He was watching her the whole time?

"When? Where?"

Little Sprout peeked out from her arms, two round eyes visible. "When you came out of the Sea Tower."

Ziye felt a sudden flutter of panic. Tang Wen had always been straightforward; actions like following someone or harboring a secret crush were completely unlike him. Did he not want to see her anymore? She hesitated on the spot for a moment before steeling her resolve. "If he doesn't want to see me, it's pointless for me to go. I am destined not to reciprocate his feelings. If he chooses to distance himself because of it, I can only express my regret."

Ziye lifted Little Sprout up to her eye level, meeting its gaze. "In the past, both he and the Alien treated me very well, but I never considered romance. Then, one day, when I was feeling particularly lonely, the Alien appeared, and I finally understood."

Little Sprout blinked. "Understood what?"

Ziye stroked its head and shook hers, then couldn't help but laugh. Although Little Sprout appeared capable of reason, all its "reasoning" was derived from extremely fast calculations based on certain parameters. Its core was not cellular, but a precise network of computations. Making it understand emotion was quite difficult.

She explained, "What I desire is simply someone who can offer me a steady embrace when I am exhausted. Being with the Alien always feels incredibly relaxing, like he could hold up the sky if it were to fall."

A flicker of programmatic light crossed Little Sprout's eyes. After a moment, it blinked. "I searched the net. While I don't grasp the why, it seems very powerful—many women subscribe to this notion. They call such a man a 'mighty man.'"

It asked in confusion, "Doesn't 'mighty man' refer to a man with a stern expression, commanding presence, and tall stature?"

Ziye countered, "Is the Alien not tall and imposing?"

Little Sprout’s crown-sprout bent into a question mark. "He is very tall, and has presence."

Ziye pinched its cheek. "Exactly."

She sighed again. "When I am with Teacher Tang Wen, he acts either like an overgrown child or a genius tutor; I can't achieve the same ease and natural comfort I feel with the Alien."

Little Sprout flapped its wings. "The conclusion?"

Ziye grinned mischievously. "The conclusion is, let's head back to the Mengya headquarters tomorrow."

Little Sprout raised the sproutling on its head and quietly pressed the send button on the recording. Then, with the air of a small adult, it sighed internally, Great Demon Tang, I could only help you this much.

However, in truth, Little Sprout didn't even need to send the message.

Because Tang Wen was standing not far behind them, having heard their entire conversation, word for word...

-RS