In P city, Assistant Chu Shao nervously waits outside his boss' bedroom door at 9:45 in the morning. For most working adults, this would usually be a late hour to start work, but Assistant Chu would sometimes start work much later than this. 9 a.m. was in fact very early considering there were many days when his master doesn't even wake up before 12 noon.

If his boss didn't need to see this paperwork immediately, he would not even be here. He would still be sleeping and dreaming about Tang Mi.

Don't get him wrong, the reason that he has been standing outside his boss' bedroom for 10 minutes instead of knocking is not because he is afraid of her. His master might be a nitpicky, high maintenance, eccentric perfectionist, but she has never abused her staff.

He is more afraid of what this paperwork might mean for her—and their—future.

Well, nothing to it.

Chu Shao finally knocks on his boss' door. "Han Yu? Are you awake?"

Not really expecting an answer, he opened the bedroom door and went inside. He was the only person aside from Han Yu's family who was allowed inside her room, and he was only given permission because it was his job to wake her up when she had something important scheduled. Otherwise, he wouldn't even be allowed inside her penthouse.

As usual, the bedroom is a complete mess, clothes, fabric, papers, books and bottles of softdrinks spread all over the floor and every table and chair.

He finds his boss sprawled over her bed in clothes she was wearing yesterday, her phone in her hand, laptop on her stomach and a near-empty bucket of fried chicken next to her. She was drooling on her pillow and her hair was so tangled that it is likely she hasn't washed it in at least two days.

Looking at her like this, it would be hard to see her as the genius designer who became the world's top luxury brand's chief artistic director at 23 years old with a net worth of tens of millions of dollars. If the celebrities and royalty fighting over the honor to wear her clothes could see this, they would probably cry tears of shame.

Nobody but him, her closest staff and her family knew this was the reality of world-renowned designer Han Yu, who is actually a very lazy and not at all elegant young woman and would rather starve and not bathe for days than move from her bed if she wasn't working. The most respected and the wannabe of every girl aiming to enter the fashion world, chief designer Han Yu, who spends her days watching dramas and eating takeout in her underwear and seems to know nothing except designing.

Yes, this kind of useless and lazy person has been described as "the elegant, sophisticated young lady whom every mother wants their son to marry" by the media. Assistant Chu can only shake his head in despair.

Originally, he was also one of the people who admired Han Yu for her looks, talent and fame, but after being her assistant for three years, his admiration is now more like the exasperated fondness of an older brother toward a particularly troublesome younger sister.

He quickly closed the open laptop and put it aside, along with her phone and the food spread all over her bed. He lightly prodded her shoulder over the blanket but was only ignored.

"Han Yu, come on wake up already." He continued lightly shaking her.

After five minutes, the girl on the bed finally opened her eyes. She blinked her big hazel-colored eyes open, looking like an adorable kitten trying to wake up.

Assistant Chu can only smile. Even when she has not bathed or put on makeup, Han Yu is Han Yu. The power of natural beauty cannot be toppled by anything.

"Chu Chu...time's it?" she asked, yawning and stretching her arms. "What h'pened?"

Already used to her morning mumbling, he only replied, "Han Yu, the paperwork from Mr. Zhang was returned."

She didn't reply for a while, only blinking her eyes as she tried to wake up and digest what he said at the same time.

'Hm...send it to the lawyers so they can deal with all the troublesome stuff. I'm going back to sleep."

Assistant Chu swallowed nervously. "Uhm, Han Yu—"

"Please don't wake me up before 12—"

He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, blurting, "Han Yu...Mr. Zhang didn't sign the divorce papers."

"—please order my usual from the pizza place." She paused. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Her poor assistant sighed and repeated, "Mr. Zhang didn't sign the divorce papers."

As if struck by lightning, Han Yu immediately sat up, her tangled hair sticking up all over her head. She stared at her assistant for a long while as if he had just said that aliens had finally arrived and taken over running the world from the stupid destructive humans.

"He didn't...sign...the...what?!" she gasped. "But...why?!"

Assistant Chu himself had no idea why his boss' husband, whom he has never even met, did this so he only shook his head. "Mr. Zhang attached this note to the paperwork," he said, handing her the post-it note inside the package.

When she read it, Han Yu, at only 24 years old, nearly suffered a stroke from how fast her blood pressure rose.

[If you want a divorce, come see me.]

This little—

"Zhang Yi Zhou, what the hell is this?!"