Lily hesitated for a moment before stepping into the office. An internal dialogue ran through her mind—what if she made a mess again? What if she accidentally fixed another major issue and people started expecting too much? She needed a strategy—stay under the radar, deflect credit, and pretend she was just 'lucky' when things improved. Maybe sprinkle in a few casual mistakes to keep things balanced? No, no, subtlety was key. If she drew too much attention? What if, for some ridiculous reason, she accidentally streamlined a process too well, and suddenly everyone expected her to fix everything? Worse, what if upper management noticed and started piling more responsibilities onto her plate before she even finished her coffee? She took a deep breath, setting a personal rule: if she solved a problem that seemed too easy, she would make an excuse. She would subtly shift the narrative, claiming that a client's situation reminded her of something similar or that she simply followed a logical approach—anything to avoid exposing her true ability to resolve issues effortlessly.

  But deep down, she knew she only had to keep this act up until the end of the contract. After that, she'd return to her paradise—her garden, her flowers, her peaceful little world. She could already picture herself arranging bouquets, inhaling the fresh scent of petals, away from the corporate chaos. Until then, she had to endure. And more importantly, she had to figure out what really happened to Ivy. That thought alone was enough to steel her resolve. Nothing would stop her from reclaiming the tranquility she longed for.

  This place, since they started it... it needed life. And if that was the case, then fine. A total florist was on the move.

  With this strategy in place, Lily had also started crafting a plan for her third day at Reid Enterprises. Her responsibilities were vast—managing department operations, handling budgets, improving efficiency, addressing failing projects, and preparing executive reports. She needed to be sharp, but not too sharp—just convincingly average enough to blend in.

  Too bad the universe had other plans.

  The moment she stepped in too early, employees were already commending her. "Wow, the printer problem got solved so fast! And we even got a better one delivered after you left yesterday!" another added, "Oh, and did you hear? The maintenance guy got replaced, and now everything runs much smoother!"

  Lily blinked. Wait... what? She plastered on a smile and chuckled nervously. "Oh, thank goodness," she said, faking a relieved sigh. "The mess I accidentally created actually turned into a miracle!" She forced out an awkward laugh, trying to look humble and completely uninvolved. Internally, she was panicking. Did I—did I just accidentally overhaul the entire office's maintenance department?

  As she walked away, she could still hear employees laughing about how disastrous and oddly lucky the whole thing turned out.

  Shaking off the absurdity, Lily turned her attention to the actual work she needed to do. Before diving straight into the work, Lily knew she had to be strategic. She started by checking the previous records—writing down key details, analyzing past cases, and identifying the urgent red-alert tasks that needed immediate attention. Managing department operations, budgets, efficiency, failing projects, and executive reports—it was a lot, but she tackled it with a methodical approach.

  To keep herself from being too exposed, she carefully crafted a plan to delegate some of the issues. She structured her findings in a way that would naturally lead her senior manager to the problems, nudging them to make the necessary connections without her getting directly swept in. Instead of outright presenting solutions, she framed her questions carefully.

  During a casual discussion with her senior, she leaned in with a thoughtful look. "I was going through some records and noticed something odd—doesn't it seem like Department B's delays are actually connected to Department F's resource shortages? I mean, I could be wrong, but it just looks like their workflow might be tangled. Have we ever mapped out their dependencies?"

  Her senior paused, eyes narrowing as they considered the implications. "Huh... that's an interesting point."

  Lily nodded innocently. "I just happened to notice while I was organizing reports. Maybe it's nothing, but it might be worth checking."

  Perfect. She planted the seed, but she wasn't the one watering it.

  As she continued her work, she suddenly recalled something from yesterday—Xiabao, the ever-cheerful helper at the flower shop, had happily given her an idea. "Just treat everything like a flower!" Xiabao had said, giggling. "And the problems? They're just like arranging bouquets—you just have to find the right place for each one!" She and Maomao, the acting in-charge, had laughed so hard at the thought of comparing corporate disasters to floral arrangements.

  Her method? Flower shop logic.

  She stared at a failing project and thought, This is like that one time I overwatered a cactus. Too many resources in the wrong place. Solution? Cut back and redistribute.

  An inefficiency in the budget? That's like when I stocked too many lilies and not enough roses. You gotta predict demand better.

  A department with too many overlapping tasks? This is the equivalent of cramming ten different plants in one tiny pot and wondering why they're all fighting for sunlight.

  She worked diligently, applying her strategic flower-related wisdom, until she had a structured plan. Of course, if anyone asked, she'd just shrug and say, "Oh, I just followed what made sense."

  After all, blending in as an average employee was the goal.

  Right?

  And if all else failed, well... there was always the kitten slideshow.

  Lily returned to her desk after chatting with her senior, casually observing the chain reaction she had set into motion. The department heads, who had previously been moving at a leisurely pace, were now scrambling—huddled in intense discussions, exchanging frantic emails, and gesturing at whiteboards as if the fate of the company depended on it. Someone had just scheduled an urgent meeting, and she could almost hear the collective groan of those who despised them.

  Ah yes. The chain reaction of corporate chaos. My gift to them.

  She smirked slightly, drumming her fingers on her desk. Maybe, just maybe, the pizza party she had accidentally approved without budget for another day would miraculously make it through today's disaster unchallenged will be surely having a reason to have a budget. Another unintentional miracle? It wouldn't be the first.

  She had long ago learned that incompetence disguised as efficiency was an art form, and she was practically a virtuoso at it. It wasn't that she meant to create this kind of havoc—it was just the inevitable result of working in a system so fragile that one misfiled approval could send it into a tailspin.

  She sighed dramatically in her head.

  I'm sorry, everyone. Truly. Thoughts and prayers. But we are all in this together.

  A pause. Then a quiet smirk.

  Except me. I am absolutely staying lowkey and be the sideline shadow helper if i needed be if it would put me in the situation. I am merely a spectator, watching this corporate circus unfold like a tragic documentary narrated in a soothing British accent.

  And here we see the middle manager in its natural habitat... panicked... disoriented... unable to function without a meeting.

  Lily exhaled through her nose, biting back a chuckle.

  Honestly, I still have dreams. I was never meant for this life. I should be back at the flower shop, arranging bouquets instead of email chains, surrounded by the scent of fresh lilies and roses instead of burnt office coffee and corporate despair.

  She leaned back slightly, letting the fantasy take over. Maomao would be standing at the front, acting like he ran the place—his tiny paws perched on the counter, staring down customers like they needed an appointment to be in his presence. Xiabao, on the other hand, would be bouncing between shelves, trailing flower petals behind him, looking equal parts helpful and chaotic.

  "Xiabao, those hydrangeas go in the front!" she'd call out, watching as the enthusiastic little helper nearly knocked over a vase in his attempt to obey.

  Meanwhile, Maomao, ever the self-important shop manager, would let out a slow blink of judgment before curling up in the sunniest spot available, pretending he hadn't just tried to swat at the cash register a few minutes ago.

  She sighed wistfully. That was the life. No urgent emails, no last-minute reports, no department-wide meetings to discuss why the printer had decided to stop cooperating with humanity. Just her, two utterly useless yet perfect assistants, and the gentle hum of a shop filled with fresh flowers and soft instrumental music.

  But no. Instead, she was here.

  With a resigned glance at her screen, she returned her attention to her "work"—or rather, the delicate dance of looking busy while actually doing the bare minimum required to survive.

  She sighed wistfully, then glanced back at the mess unfolding before her. Yep. A disaster.

  And not her problem.

  Settling back into her chair, she made a show of looking busy. The trick, she had discovered, was to move windows around on her screen just enough to look engaged but not so much that anyone expected her to be productive. She pulled up a spreadsheet, rearranged some columns, and toggled between emails and reports—all just enough to appear diligent. It wasn't like she wasn't working; she just had the luxury of choosing what to focus on. So she picked the least urgent tasks—organizing reports, recording analysis notes, and strategically prioritizing issues based on what could wait until after lunch.

  Just as she found her rhythm, the soft shuffle of footsteps approached her desk.

  Lily was still getting used to everything—her desk, the endless emails, the way people in the office seemed to thrive on unnecessary meetings. It was only her third day, but she had already learned two things:

  Half of corporate life was pretending you knew what you were doing. The other half was looking busy enough so no one questioned you.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  She was in the middle of reorganizing a spreadsheet for the sake of looking productive when a group of employees walked past her desk.

  Back at her desk, she needed to act like she was doing her job. She focused on the less urgent tasks—organizing reports, recording analysis, and strategically prioritizing issues before lunch. Just as she settled into her work, an employee approached her.

  "Hey, Lily! We're heading out for lunch. Want to join us?"

  Lily almost froze. Oh no. Social interaction. Wait, no—this is good. I shouldn't look like someone who's just stuck working and working... Right? Right.

  She quickly shifted her expression into a cheerful one. "Oh! Yes! Definitely!" she said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. She cleared her throat and added, "I mean, yeah, that sounds nice."

  The employees laughed, and one of them nudged her playfully. "You looked like you were calculating whether lunch was a trap."

  Lily chuckled awkwardly. Well, technically, everything here is a trap. But sure, let's call it lunch.

  At the ramen shop

  The group made their way to a small ramen shop nearby, the kind of cozy place that was probably a hidden gem for office workers trying to escape their responsibilities for an hour. They ordered, found a table, and started chatting about everything—from office gossip to weekend plans.

  "So, Lily," Mina started, twirling her chopsticks between her fingers, "what did you do before this?"

  Lily hesitated for a second. "Oh, I worked at a flower shop."

  There was a brief silence.

  Then Kenji leaned in. "Wait. A flower shop?"

  "Yeah," she replied, taking a sip of water. "Like, an actual one. With real flowers."

  Kenji raised an eyebrow. "No offense, but you don't seem like the type."

  She tilted her head. "What does that mean?"

  Mina squinted at her. "I think what he's trying to say is... are you sure you're supposed to be here?"

  Lily blinked. "Uh. I think so?"

  "No, like, are you sure you weren't meant to be somewhere else? Because honestly, sometimes it feels like you accidentally ended up in corporate instead of—I don't know—running a cozy little flower shop with a cat or something."

  Lily let out a nervous laugh. Oh no. They're onto me.

  "That's a weirdly specific scenario," she joked, trying to play it off.

  Kenji pointed at her. "See? That reaction right there. Suspicious. You were supposed to be doing something else, weren't you?"

  Lily sighed dramatically. "Fine. You got me. I was meant to live a peaceful life surrounded by flowers. Not spreadsheets. Not meetings. Just me, my plants, Maomao—the one currently running the flower shop while I'm here—and Xiabao, who... well, let's just say he's there."

  Mina blinked. "Wait. Who's Xiabao?"

  Lily waved a hand dismissively. "Just someone who helps out."

  Kenji squinted at her. "That's suspiciously vague. What kind of 'help' are we talking about?"

  "You know... stocking flowers, dealing with customers, keeping things lively." She took a casual sip of her drink, refusing to elaborate.

  Mina crossed her arms. "You're being weirdly cryptic. Is he some kind of secret business genius?"

  Lily snorted. "Business genius? Please. He just... has a way with people. Customers tend to, you know, buy things when he's around."

  Kenji raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me this guy just exists and people start buying flowers?"

  Lily shrugged. "Not my fault if some people have natural charm."

  Mina leaned in. "Okay, but now I have to know—what's he like?"

  Lily kept her expression neutral. "He's... energetic. Talks a lot. Probably thinks he's in a drama half the time. But he's good at what he does."

  Kenji nodded slowly. "Sounds like a walking distraction."

  "Oh, absolutely." Lily smirked. "But somehow, at the end of the day, the register's always full."

  Mina looked at her suspiciously. "Lily, be honest. Did you run a normal flower shop, or were you managing some kind of secret celebrity florist cult?"

  Lily simply smiled. "If you ever need flowers, I know a place."

  Kenji groaned. "You're doing it again! Stop sneakily advertising your old shop!"

  Lily took another sip of her drink, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

  "Honestly," Kenji said, "I'd buy something just to get on his good side."

  "Well, if you ever need plants, I know a place," Lily said smoothly. "Best lavender in the city. Stress relief guaranteed."

  Mina gave her a knowing look. "Did you just casually promote your the flower shop?"

  Lily shrugged. "Maybe."

  Kenji grinned. "Respect."

  Mina laughed. "Alright, team. Let's get her through another day."

  As they walked back, Lily smiled. Maybe, just maybe, she'd be okay here. At least... until she escaped back to flowers.

  As Lily and her coworkers made their way back to the office, the atmosphere was noticeably different. The usual hum of casual conversations and keyboard clacking was overshadowed by the sight of their superiors still locked in the meeting room, deep in discussion.

  The blinds were drawn just enough to obscure what was happening inside, but every now and then, frantic gestures and pointed looks were visible through the glass. It was the kind of scene that screamed "This is not my problem," and Lily was more than happy to keep it that way.

  "Still at it, huh?" Mina murmured as she passed by Lily's desk.

  "Yep," Lily replied, barely hiding her amusement.

  She settled into her chair, watching as another employee hesitated before approaching the meeting room door, only to quickly turn back when they caught a glimpse of the chaos inside.

  They're definitely not coming out anytime soon, Lily thought. Which means... I can peacefully enjoy the rest of my day without unnecessary interruptions. A true blessing.

  She smiled to herself. At this rate, she'd make it through the week without too much effort. And then, the weekend—her true reward. Two full days back at the flower shop, surrounded by the soothing scent of fresh blooms and the comforting predictability of arranging bouquets. No emails. No corporate jargon. Just a world where problems could be solved with the perfect combination of lilies and roses.

  But for now, she had to at least pretend to be productive.

  Lily pulled up the reports she had been working on before lunch, smoothly falling back into her rhythm of controlled efficiency. Not too fast—she didn't want anyone giving her more work—but not too slow either. Just enough to make it look like she was putting in effort.

  She had already mastered the art of strategic prioritization:

  Step 1: Organize reports.

  Step 2: Record analysis notes.

  Step 3: Identify a task that technically needs to be done but was vague enough to require delegation.

  And now... onto Step 4.

  With a well-practiced smirk, she started crafting her next move. She subtly highlighted an issue—nothing urgent, just something that could become important if left alone long enough. Then, she framed it in a way that made it look like it needed attention, but not necessarily from her.

  And now... let my senior find the right person to handle it.

  She sat back for a moment, admiring her own work. Flawless execution.

  Meanwhile, inside the meeting room, the tension was palpable. Department heads from different divisions were locked in a heated discussion, voices hushed but urgent. Graphs and reports cluttered the table, and a whiteboard was filled with scribbled notes and arrows that made less sense the longer one stared at them.

  At the head of the table sat Damien Reid, the company's elusive and commanding CEO. He hadn't said much, merely observing as the others debated. Unlike the frantic managers around him, Damien exuded quiet control. He wasn't a man who acted on impulse—he was a strategist, someone who watched, assessed, and only moved when necessary.

  One of the department heads cleared their throat. "Mr. Reid, we've narrowed down the source of the issue to an unexpected budget allocation that—"

  Damien held up a hand, silencing them with just a slight movement. His sharp gaze flickered across the table. "And yet, no one here can tell me how it went unnoticed until now."

  A heavy silence fell over the room. No one dared to speak first.

  Outside, Lily continued her work, blissfully unaware that the very storm brewing inside had been sparked by her own subtle maneuvering.

  As she continued her work, Mina leaned closer, lowering her voice. "What do you think is going on in there?" She gestured subtly toward the meeting room, where yet another round of aggressive pointing was taking place. "It looks intense."

  Lily barely suppressed a smile. If only you knew.

  "Beats me," she said with a shrug, keeping her tone casual. "Must be something big, though. Hope it doesn't trickle down to us."

  Mina sighed dramatically. "Ugh, I swear, if we get dragged into another emergency project because of whatever mess they're dealing with, I'm quitting."

  Lily chuckled. "You say that like you won't be here tomorrow, bright and early."

  Mina groaned. "Why do you have to be right?"

  Lily smirked, the picture of innocence, while inside, she relished the perfection of it all. The best kind of chaos was the kind that unfurled effortlessly—set in motion by her own quiet nudges—while she sat back, untouchable, enjoying the serenity of her well-crafted escape.

  For now, she just had to sit back, act innocent, and let the corporate storm rage on—while she enjoyed her carefully crafted bubble of peace.

  As the clock inched closer to the end of the workday, the meeting room finally showed signs of life. The door creaked open, and exhausted-looking seniors spilled out, stretching and rubbing their temples.

  Lily overheard one of them muttering, "This was supposed to be thirty minutes... How did it turn into almost two hours?" Another sighed, shaking their head. "Let's take a few minutes to breathe before we jump back in. Strategic planning still needs work."

  Lily smirked behind her screen. Oof. That sounds rough.

  Her senior returned to their desk, looking both drained and oddly invigorated, like a detective who had just cracked a long-standing case.

  Then, in an almost-too-cheerful voice, they announced, "Guys... I'm really sorry, but we need to recheck and reprint the previous data, up until now."

  A collective groan rippled through the team.

  "Ah, yes. Exactly how I wanted to end my day" one coworker joked.

  "Living the dream," another chimed in, forcing a smile.

  "Guys, I need the most urgent report printed out," the senior added.

  "Ma'am, I have a copy of some of the ones you need," one employee offered.

  "I have it too," another said. "I guess this team really doesn't like the idea of working late, huh? Hahaha."

  Their senior chuckled, clearly amused. "Oh? You're all so eager now?" They shook their head with a laugh. "Well, that does help. Print out the other reports too. We need to fix what those sly folks did to this department."

  Lily tapped her fingers on her desk, deep in thought. So that's why this place is such a mess... A slow realization settled in. I hope my sudden ways of not getting involved on something big and chaos that will put my peaceful life of getting work back at my florist won't come.

  As the clock ticked down towards the end of the workday, Lily leaned back slightly, a knowing glint in her eyes. She had already printed all the important files—yesterday, while reorganizing some of the department's documents. And, if she were being honest, she didn't like what she had been seeing.

  Analyzing those papers had sent an unpleasant chill down her spine. There were too many inconsistencies, too many conveniently misplaced reports. But she wasn't about to let herself get caught up in whatever tangled mess this department had been drowning in. No, she had other plans—like using her usual tactics to keep herself out of unnecessary trouble.

  The office was a flurry of movement, everyone scrambling to gather files and meet last-minute demands. But Lily? She had already strategically placed those newly printed documents exactly where someone would "accidentally" stumble upon them. It was only a matter of time.

  Right on cue, a voice rang out, filled with sheer relief.

  "Guys! We don't need to do this overtime! Hahaha! I found everything the senior needed!"

  A collective pause. Then—

  "An angel has appeared!" someone dramatically declared. "A miracle has been here all along! We just needed to keep looking!"

  A wave of laughter rippled through the office. The sheer absurdity of it all made the moment even funnier. The supposed savior of the night looked ridiculously proud, basking in the praise like a hero returning from battle.

  Meanwhile, Lily had to put on her best clueless-yet-pleasantly-surprised expression. She widened her eyes, nodding along with the excitement. "Oh wow! That's so lucky! I guess everything really worked out!"

  Internally, she was laughing.

  You have no idea.

  It reminded her of the time the whole maintenance team had flipped out, leading to them finally getting their new computers. That had been an ordeal, too. She had witnessed firsthand how a few well-placed "concerns" could send the department into a productive panic.

  As the office settled, the realization sunk in—no overtime today. People high-fived, some nearly collapsing in relief, while their senior shook their head, amused.

  Lily simply smiled, sipping her tea like she hadn't just orchestrated another corporate miracle.

  And the best part? Now, she had time to visit the flower shop.

  — END CHAPTER 4 —

  Author’s Note: