The next morning, Liang Weining carefully packed the boss's suit, ready to bring it to the company.
Her best friend was puzzled, "Why not send it directly to the dry cleaners?"
"I'm afraid it'll get ruined."
She felt that it was best left to professionals.
Better to take it back to Pok Fu Lam and leave it with Uncle Ming, safer that way.
Her best friend was exasperated, "You're too cautious. Even if it gets ruined, Mr. Chen won't blame you for one suit."
That said, Liang Weining was just—
Lazy.
She couldn't find any other excuse.
There were no high-end dry cleaners near her rented place, and if the owner of a regular shop recognized the value, they would surely be afraid to take such an expensive suit.
Rather than searching all over for a shop, it made more sense to return it to its place of origin. Uncle Ming would surely understand.
Liang Weining steeled herself, changed her shoes, and left the house.
She arrived at the company just after nine o'clock.
