I'm Just Getting Your Luck - Chapter 3

Incest/Ethics

Due to Yingyu’s striking appearance—golden hair, doll-like face—Zhou Chenyi decided it was safer to take her straight to the office first, rather than have her walking around in public.

He glanced at the employee badge clipped to her chest. It read: Public Opinion Monitoring.

Zhou Chenyi frowned. She could barely understand basic human speech—how did she get hired for that job? What was HR thinking?

Once again, his head began to ache.

Across from him, Yingyu stood smiling brightly at him, clearly in high spirits.

He let out a sigh. “Miss Yingyu, how’s your head feeling?”

“I’m totally fine! I heal faster than anyone in my family.” She beamed, confident in her own abilities. To prove it, she snatched the Rubik’s Cube from his hand, tossed it in the air with flair, and solved it before it hit the ground.

Zhou Chenyi: “…”

Hexini, dryly: “Impressive.”

Zhou Chenyi felt like his brain had been run over by a truck.

“Well, welcome aboard, Miss—”

Yingyu cheerfully cut him off, returning the Rubik’s Cube. “There’s no need to be so formal with me, Zhou Chenyi. I can help you rebuild Legos and puzzles anytime. Oh! And that detective novel you’re reading? I just finished it. Want me to tell you who the killers are? Chapter 1—it’s the son who hid the victim in the basement. His dad helped cover it up to say sorry. Chapter 2—the wife’s the victim. The husband cut her up for a bigger insurance payout. Chapter 3—”

“I just started Chapter 1, thank you,” Zhou Chenyi said through clenched teeth, his jaw tight with frustration.

Hexini could already hear the sound of his boss grinding his molars.

That book had been signed by the author himself—the very author Zhou Chenyi flew to Japan to meet in person. He had just started reading it yesterday, savoring every word.

Now? Spoiled in seconds. Thanks a lot.

Still, she seemed pleased with herself. A prime chance to get closer, in her mind.

Yingyu grinned. “No need to be so polite. We’re coworkers now! You call me Yingyu, I’ll call you Zhou Chenyi.”

Technically true. But who just casually calls their boss by name?

Zhou Chenyi and Hexini exchanged glances. “Yingyu,” Hexini said tactfully, “in our company, we all refer to him as Mr. Zhou. Please don’t mention any personal connections.”

Yingyu nodded as if she understood. “Got it! Mr. Zhou told his assistant we’re family now. That means… you and I are family too, right?”

There she goes again.

Zhou Chenyi silently put down his water glass.

“Can I stay with you, as your family?” she asked earnestly.

Still just within his tolerance threshold.

“No,” he replied flatly. “Also, that would be inappropriate. It’s called incest. It’s not just unethical—it’s illegal.”

“Oh.” Her enthusiasm deflated like a popped balloon.

Wait—incest?

Wasn’t her “brother” supposed to be her boyfriend, who later became her husband?

Apparently not in this world.

HR had clearly gotten more than they bargained for. Yingyu’s résumé had practically been thrown onto their desk out of nowhere.

Zhou Chenyi dismissed Yingyu from the room, then sat down with Hexini to review her application in full.

And wow—what a surprise.

“She went to our university?” Hexini blinked. No wonder she felt so familiar—turns out they were alumni. He’d assumed her brain just didn’t function properly. In truth, she was just operating on a level the rest of them couldn’t even begin to follow.

“Four-time national debate champion… Internship at a top 4A agency… Named ‘Employee of the Year’ at every company she’s worked for… National scholarship recipient… Fluent in four languages… Represented China in three international competitions and took home gold each time…”

Hexini nodded slowly, impressed. “She’s incredible. Though I have no idea how no one noticed her athletic potential.”

Zhou Chenyi raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Hexini pulled up a security video. “Watch this. At this level, she doesn’t need a parachute—she could land from orbit. In Olympic diving or high jump, she’d be unbeatable.”

“Has to be fake—AI-generated,” Zhou Chenyi muttered, refusing to believe it.

But she was on screen, bouncing around with supernatural ease. No edits. No glitches.

“The person who sent her is really good. Still no leads.” Hexini looked uneasy. “Want me to come up with an excuse to fire her?”

Though they were alumni, he still had to put Zhou Chenyi’s interests first.

But Zhou Chenyi hesitated. He was soft-hearted.

“She got hurt because of my nephew,” he said. “And clearly, she’s not entirely well—can’t blame her for that. We don’t know for sure she’s a spy. Keep her for now. Just… keep her away from any sensitive departments. And from me.”

“Yes, Mr. Zhou.”

That evening, Zhou Chenyi had to attend a business party with international guests—critical for pushing forward a major partnership. He had no time to think about Yingyu.

Just before departure, he was reviewing documents in the car when Hexini opened the door.

“Mr. Zhou, your interpreter has arrived.”

Zhou Chenyi barely looked up.

“Good evening, Mr. Zhou!” came a sweet voice.

Zhou Chenyi’s head snapped up.

Yingyu stood smiling, dressed for the event.

“What is she doing here?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Our regular interpreter is in the hospital. No one else was available. Yingyu is fluent in French and Italian, so I asked her to help. Temporarily.” Hexini winked at her as he closed the door.

As her senior, it was the best he could do to help her get close to the boss. The rest was up to her.

Yingyu had no idea what direction France or Italy even were. She only found out she was the translator five minutes ago.

“Um, Assistant He,” she started to backpedal. “I don’t think Mr. Zhou wants me here. Maybe you should find someone else?”

“Get in.” Zhou Chenyi shut down her escape plan, offered double pay, and told the driver to start the car.

—

Translation is both communication and performance.

Before the event, Hexini had Yingyu changed into a sleek black evening gown and quickly did her makeup. Her hair wasn’t fully styled, but it hung naturally around her shoulders.

Even without much effort, her beauty was undeniable. Her features were sharp, skin fair, and smile radiant. With her slim figure and long legs peeking out from the hem of her skirt, she drew attention the moment she entered.

From afar, she looked poised and elegant, a natural fit for high society.

“Yingyu!” Zhou Chenyi hissed. “You’re stepping on my foot!”

She’d driven her high heel straight onto his leather shoe.

Startled, she quickly pulled back. “Sorry! I’m not used to heels. I didn’t mean to.”

“If you had meant to, you’d be out of here already,” he muttered, then pushed her forward again.

She wasn’t walking properly—leaning on him too much—and by now was practically glued to his arm.

“Why wear heels if you can’t walk in them? The company doesn’t require it,” he said, frowning at her swollen ankle as he tapped on his phone.

“Assistant He said it’s expected at formal events… something about professionalism.”

“Professionalism isn’t about shoes—it’s about competence,” he replied, just as their foreign guests arrived. He greeted them with a polite smile and handshake.

One of them launched into a flurry of Italian.

Zhou Chenyi gave Yingyu a look: time to translate.

She stared at the man’s face, trying to guess what he’d just said.

Swallowing nervously, she bluffed: “He said good evening. Your company’s navigation tech is world-renowned. You’re young, capable, and have a bright future.”

Zhou Chenyi: “…He said that?”

“Free translation. Same idea.”

Yingyu kept improvising. “He said Million has unlimited potential and could lead the industry to a new peak.”

She’d read something like that in the company profile earlier.

But then she ran out of stock phrases. Time to get creative.

“He also said the woman standing next to you is stunning, and if you don’t marry her, you’re throwing away a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

“Life’s unpredictable. Who knows what tomorrow brings? Humans don’t live long—you should fall in love while you can.”

“A man starts aging at 24 years and 10 months—sperm quality drops, wrinkles appear, harder to find a wife. Someday you’ll be racing wheelchairs in the park and no one will even clap.”

Zhou Chenyi—currently 24 years and 10 months old—smiled coldly and pinched her arm. “Yingyu… what kind of garbage are you spouting? Want to get fired?”

Yingyu opened her mouth to apologize, but then something strange happened.

One of the foreigners—Smith—suddenly switched languages.

Yingyu’s eyes widened in shock.

It was Monster Speak.

To her, it was like hearing water in the desert. Zhou Chenyi didn’t notice, but Yingyu nearly cried with joy.

“Are you one of us?” Smith asked.

A miracle!

Yingyu nodded furiously. “Say it again! I’ll translate it properly this time!”

Thanks to Smith’s help, the negotiations went smoothly, and Yingyu even hugged him afterward, calling him “brother.”

They mostly continued in English, but after seeing how sore Yingyu’s feet were, Zhou Chenyi told her to rest.

Later, she went missing. He looked around and found her chatting with Smith in a corner.

“Your aunt’s second uncle’s third sister is friends with my mom?” she said excitedly. “Small world!”

Monsters could recognize kin by scent. It just took a while.

Smith asked, “How long have you been in human form?”

“About a year. But I’ve only been in the human world for maybe a week—and most of that was in the hospital.”

“That’s too short. Don’t drink. You’ll lose control. My first time drinking, I outed myself and got forced into ten years of servitude.”

“Humans are tyrants!” Yingyu clutched her fox tail anxiously.

A passing waiter bumped into her, but Smith caught her in time.

Just then, Zhou Chenyi stepped in, pushing Smith’s hand away and standing between them.

“Mr. Smith, Miss Yingyu is a translator for our company. Please show some respect.”

Smith didn’t understand the words, but the tone was clear. He looked at Yingyu: “What did he just say?”

“Nothing important,” she said, patting Zhou Chenyi’s shoulder. “It’s a misunderstanding. He was just helping me.”

“I saw it. No need to explain.” Zhou Chenyi’s voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp. He’d watched Smith touch her waist and whisper close to her ear.

Completely inappropriate, especially to a girl with a head injury.

Outside, Hexini had been waiting. He handed her a pair of flat shoes.

“Yingyu, I’m so sorry for today. These are from the company—Mr. Zhou picked them. Try them on.”

She sat down on the steps and changed out of the painful heels. The sneakers were a bit big, but—

“They fit perfectly. Thank you, Assistant He,” she said, smiling brightly.

“No need to thank me—we’re family, remember? If you’re ever uncomfortable again, come talk to me. My door is always open.”

“I will.”

“Alright, you go wait in the car,” Zhou Chenyi said. “I want to speak with her alone.”

Once it was just the two of them, he hesitated.

“Miss Yingyu, please understand—we’re just colleagues. I’m not interested in dating, especially not with you. I’m never getting married, not now, not ever. Do you understand?”

It wasn’t just her—he wouldn’t accept anyone.

Yingyu blinked. “You need to touch me to get married?”

“Yes, but why are you so obsessed with…”

He looked away.

“You touched me earlier,” she said softly.

“I was helping you!”

“Isn’t that the same?”

“No—it’s not! Helping is selfless. Touching… implies something else.” He raised his hand to swear, then dropped it again. “Why am I swearing to you?”

“Because we’re family. You can say anything to me.”

“You really need to set firmer boundaries with your family,” he muttered.

The party was ending, the streets were clearing, and the night was cooling down.

“Do you hate me?” she asked quietly.

She looked down at her white sneakers, grateful. It had been a lucky day: new shoes, a foreign demon friend, and time with Zhou Chenyi.

He was like a good luck charm.

Zhou Chenyi paused. “I don’t hate you. But not hating someone doesn’t mean I like them. Human emotions are complicated.”

He turned to leave.

“Hexini’s waiting outside. He’ll take you home.”

Another chance with Zhou Chenyi, gone.

Yingyu lifted her phone, and a voice—wrinkled and raspy—echoed softly:

“Cat Sis… I failed again.”