Rumor Has It I Don’t Follow A-Class Morals - Chapter 35

Everyone fell silent the moment they saw Ming Muyao.

After clapping and realizing no one picked up the conversation, Ming Muyao glanced at the man who had just been speaking and asked, “What’s wrong? Weren’t you shouting pretty loudly just now? Why so quiet all of a sudden?”

The man, a short-haired Alpha, gave a cold laugh when she called him out. “President Ming, there’s no need to say it like that. Everyone knows you never cared about the company’s affairs. Now that the company’s practically bankrupt, you suddenly show up. What, planning to take the money and run?”

“Where are these rumors even coming from, saying I’m going to run off with company funds?” Ming Muyao said helplessly. “President An went out of town to secure investments and ended up drinking so much she passed out in a bathroom. Was she doing that for herself? No, it was for the company.”

“I’ve heard a lot of rumors about me, and I really don’t know who’s been spreading them.” Ming Muyao looked calmly at the short-haired man and the familiar-looking executives standing behind him. “The company is currently financially stable, and we’ve been negotiating with major investors. Regular employees might not be in the loop, but strategic decisions aren’t exactly public knowledge. Even if the company were to go bankrupt, a starved camel is still bigger than a horse. We’d still be able to pay proper severance.”

After saying that, she turned to the executives who had already submitted their resignations and asked with confusion, “Manager Wang, as a senior executive, you should know better. This kid is one of your team members, right? Why let him jump out and stir up trouble?”

Manager Wang, a burly middle-aged man, was the head of programming. He had a million-yuan salary, but due to the company’s recent struggles, he hadn’t received project bonuses in months. That was why he’d chosen to resign.

Despite his size, Manager Wang was known to be petty and liked to form cliques within the company. Ming Muyao had already noticed this in his personnel file. Since he was leaving anyway, she hadn’t bothered to deal with him—but she hadn’t expected him to dig a pit for her on his way out.

He stood up and looked at her. “President Ming, we’re all just working here. When something unfair happens, we have every right to speak up. You can’t just silence us.”

“What exactly is unfair?” Ming Muyao asked, puzzled.

“Yesterday, President An and her team came back, and you gave them quite the bonus. Everyone knows it. So why did they get rewarded, while we haven’t even seen our bonuses?”

“Those bonuses were from me personally,” Ming Muyao replied. “It was just a red envelope to thank them for their hard work, not a company-issued bonus. The investments they brought in are mostly going toward paying salaries and clearing past debts. Everyone will get what they’re owed.”

Manager Wang sneered. “We’ve had enough of capitalists dangling carrots. Can you give us something real for once?”

Ming Muyao nodded. “Alright. Since everyone’s here, I’ll give you something real.”

“Heng Jingxian from Ruicheng Group has reviewed our company’s situation and is very interested. She’s scheduled to visit for an on-site inspection next week.” Ming Muyao continued, “If the inspection goes well, Ruicheng Group will invest in our company and become a new shareholder.”

“Ruicheng Group?”

“That’s one of the top companies in the country, right? They’re investing in us?”

“Does this mean we’ll be part of a big-name firm now?”

“That’s amazing! No more worrying about layoffs!”

Ming Muyao glanced around the room and finally turned her gaze back to the stunned Manager Wang. With a look like she just remembered something, she said, “Oh, right, Manager Wang, I almost forgot you already submitted your resignation. In that case, let me go ahead and announce one more thing.”

“Due to several executive resignations, a few key positions are now vacant. The new executives won’t be brought in from outside—they’ll be selected from our current staff.” Ming Muyao addressed the room, “HR will send out an email with the details. Everyone, work hard. That executive seat might just be yours.”

As soon as she finished, she clearly saw the sparkle return to everyone’s eyes.

Getting promoted to an executive role didn’t just mean a higher salary—it also came with a small portion of company shares. Not a lot, but better than nothing. Combined with various perks and benefits, it was enough to get people interested.

As for those who weren’t motivated and were just coasting, Ming Muyao had something for them too: a performance-based bonus system that increased with seniority. That got even the lazier employees excited.

After all, who doesn’t love money?

Once the crowd dispersed, Ming Muyao turned to the remaining executives and said, “I get that you’re upset. But this is just a job. You’re not selling your souls. Why burn bridges?”

Manager Wang and the others seemed to realize they’d just made fools of themselves. Their expressions were anything but pleasant.

“President Ming, we actually…”

“Alright, alright. What’s done is done—no need to say anything else.”

Ming Muyao spoke calmly. “You won’t be here much longer anyway. Might as well enjoy the downtime while it lasts.”

Without another glance at them, she picked up her bag and headed back to her office, leaving the group staring at each other in awkward silence.

As soon as she sat down, her assistant rushed in with tea and coffee and even tried to comfort her.

“Don’t be angry, President Ming.”

“I’m not angry,” she said, puzzled. “What makes you think I’m angry?”

She took a sip of the hot coffee and said, “Honestly, I totally understand how they feel. Working for someone else is tough. Waking up early, staying up late, basically buying the boss a car and a house. Of course they’re emotional. And I do take some responsibility—the company’s struggles are partly due to my poor management. It’s only fair that something like this happened.”

Her assistant stared at her in shock, mouth half-open with nothing to say.

Ming Muyao continued, “From now on, I’ll do better—set a good example. Let today be a release for everyone. No real damage was done. Just think of it as some early morning gossip.”

“President Ming, are you really not angry?”

Then why does it sound like you’re even more pissed off?

Ming Muyao smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m just your boss. We’re all working for the same goal—to make money and grow the company. Everything’s fine.”

The assistant was thoroughly confused by her smile. After a long pause, they finally said, “There’s something I need to tell you. Legal just sent a notice…”

“What is it?”

“It’s about Yao Jiang. Her case has already been sentenced.”

Ming Muyao froze, her hand still holding the coffee cup. She looked up. “That fast? It’s only been a few days. Wasn’t the investigation still ongoing?”

“The investigation was very thorough, and the evidence was solid. Yao Jiang confessed too,” the assistant explained. “Her sister, Yao Ling, really was strangled to death by young Mr. Li. He admitted it. Said he was drunk and tried to take her home after work. Yao Ling refused, and in the struggle, he accidentally killed her.”

Ming Muyao’s eyes widened.

Accidentally, huh.

This was attempted rape turning into straight-up murder. And they’re blaming it on alcohol?

With an unpleasant look on her face, she asked, “And then?”

“The alley had surveillance. Everything was recorded. But Store Manager Xu Bu hid the footage. She’s been arrested for obstruction of justice. The sentencing for her hasn’t been finalized.”

The assistant continued, “Young Mr. Li has connections, so the case moved quickly. He was sentenced to life for attempted rape and murder, but his family pulled some strings to get him released on medical parole. So even though he took someone’s life, he probably won’t serve any real time.”

Ming Muyao stared at them and asked after a pause, “What about Yao Jiang?”

“She got three years and ten months for poisoning and has already started her sentence.”

Ming Muyao fell silent for a long time.

She remembered that young Mr. Li—he was the same man who once made suggestive jokes at her. She’d sensed his violent energy back then but hadn’t expected him to be capable of something like this.

What pissed her off the most was that he killed someone and got off scot-free, while Yao Jiang, who lost her sister, was the one who ended up in prison.

Once Yao Jiang got out, there was a good chance young Mr. Li would come after her too. And as an Omega, she’d have no way to fight back.

Ming Muyao leaned back in her chair, deep in thought. The assistant saw her like that and asked cautiously, “President Ming, Yao Jiang knows someone helped her. She wants to meet that person. Should we…?”

Yao Jiang wanted to meet her?

Ming Muyao thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Don’t let her know it was me. And I won’t be meeting her.”

“Understood,” the assistant replied. “I’ll take care of it.”

After they left, Ming Muyao opened her computer and searched for news about the case at Glow Bar. The story was already blowing up online.

People couldn’t understand how young Mr. Li’s sentence had been handled. Some had even dug up his parole documents and footage of him wandering around the hospital, proving he wasn’t seriously ill. The medical report was clearly fake—just a way to dodge prison.

The internet was furious, demanding answers from both the courts and the hospital for protecting someone like him.

Reading through the comments, Ming Muyao remembered how Xu Bu had once threatened her too—hinting she had incriminating photos of her private life. If she had photos of Ming Muyao, there was a good chance she had dirt on others as well.

With that thought, Ming Muyao pulled out her phone, deciding to visit an old “friend” at the detention center.

Su Yin sat inside a classroom with glass walls, staring blankly at the math formulas the teacher was writing on the board.

Though the teacher and Ming Muyao had both said studying was a process of adaptation, Su Yin honestly felt like her brain had regressed. Back in her final year of high school, she could recite long passages of classical poetry without a hitch. Now, a single basic math question left her completely stumped.

But she’d already paid tuition—she couldn’t just coast. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to jot down the key points the teacher emphasized, planning to do extra practice at home and get into the groove as soon as possible.

While she was busy taking notes, she glanced at her deskmate, who was curled up with a pillow against the wall, fast asleep.

It was weird—this was Su Yin’s second day of class, and her deskmate had slept through both days.

The girl’s last name seemed to be Zhou. From the moment she sat down, she started sleeping, woke briefly to eat lunch, then napped again until dismissal.

Even the instructors didn’t seem to care, and Su Yin didn’t dare say anything. She just kept taking notes and occasionally snuck glances at the girl, quietly marveling at how good her sleep quality was.