Chu Tianyi sat at his cubicle—cold as Siberian permafrost—his fingertips lightly tracing the surface of the manila folder stamped "Li Manting Client Dossier." Sunlight streamed through the vast glass curtain wall, casting dappled patterns across his face, twisted by anger and humiliation, yet strangely calm as if infused with a newfound power. In that shifting light, he seemed enveloped in an aura of inscrutable mystery.
Across Sales Team A at Feichi Group—and even in neighboring Teams B and C—the entire office had exploded after Wang Hai's earth-shattering ultimatum yesterday that might as well have been a death sentence for Chu Tianyi. His name, and the taboo figure "Li Manting," had become the hottest gossip: the subject of every whispered conversation, even heard in the restroom stalls.
He could almost feel the stares aimed at him like surgical spotlights—sometimes bright, sometimes dim, sometimes distant, sometimes close—each reflecting emotions far more complex than anything he'd sensed yesterday with his awakened "Heart-Hunting Manual." There was undisguised schadenfreude, as if everyone waited to see him shredded alive by that legendary "female demon"; apathetic curiosity, born of boredom; feigned sympathy dripping with hypocrisy; and, among the office's glamorously attired women, a blend of jealousy and grim satisfaction, as though they longed for the very "favor" he was about to receive.
"Did you hear? Did you hear? That old lecher Wang Hai went off on her yesterday, and then dumped the hot potato called 'Black Widow Li Manting' right into Chu Tianyi's lap!" whispered the office busybody—loudest of all—leaning conspiratorially toward a huddle of intrigued colleagues.
"Chu Tianyi?" sneered a gaudily made-up saleswoman whose crimson lipstick looked freshly blood-stained. "He's the broke kid who never hits his quotas—almost got sacked last month—and maybe looks like a little pretty boy, but seriously?"
"Exactly! It's clearly Wang Hai's way of sending this loser to his doom at Li Manting's feet. Who is Li Manting? She's the city's 'Thorned Rose,' the 'Iceberg Queen,' the 'Venomous Beauty'—one look from her and a man loses his soul; one word from her and you could wipe out a billion-dollar corporation!"
"I heard last month, Zhang Dapao—the so-called 'Prince of Deals,' 'Men's Best Friend,' who's slept with half the client list—had the nerve to linger over her long, Basquiat-black-stockinged legs during a renewal pitch. Next thing he knew, she dumped scalding coffee on him, and he came back with a high fever and delirium. He's been a shell of himself ever since!"
"And way before that, some intern from Team C, flaunting her looks in a skimpy V-neck dress, tried the 'sex sells' approach—didn't even get a glance at her proposal cover before security hauled her out. She threatened to call the cops if any other woman tried to 'sell her body' to get ahead!"
These whispered barbs buzzed in Chu Tianyi's ears like swarming flies—or the most poisonous curses—yet he remained unmoved. If he were still the timid, self-doubting man he used to be, these taunts would have crushed him. But after yesterday's miraculous awakening of his "Heart-Hunting Manual" and the ruthless glimpse it gave into Wang Hai's darkest fears, an imperceptible shift had occurred within him.
He no longer needed to strain his forehead-splitting, headache-inducing power to read hearts; he could now discern the hidden thoughts and desires behind every slanderous comment and every sidelong glance:
—Zhao Yuhang, the entitled rich-kid bully, lounged with one leg crossed, scrolling through scantily clad livestreamers. With malicious glee, he plotted:
"Heh heh, poor Chu Tianyi's finished! When Li Manting toys with him, and Wang Hai kicks him out like a mangy dog, then Lin Qiqi—the demure darling—will finally be mine. I'll break her in like a stubborn colt, train her into my perfect little sex slave…."
—Sister Li, the "forever-kind" colleague opposite him, murmured sympathetic nonsense to a new hire, yet privately thought:
"Wang Hai's tactic is brilliant. If Chu Tianyi is gone, maybe my commission goes up—and I'll edge closer to that 'Employee of the Year' award. As for his fate? Serves him right."
—Even Lin Qiqi, whose sorrowful sympathy for him yesterday had stirred something, now regarded him with a knot of anxiety, longing, and an unspoken flutter of attraction. Dressed in pale pink, her slender calves clad in sheer stockings, she fidgeted under her desk, her face blushing with worry as her mind raced:
"Why did he accept that impossible assignment? Li Manting is a ruthless demon! Poor Chu Tianyi…if only I could help, even in a small way. Maybe a word of encouragement…a cup of tea…Would he think I was odd? Those gossipy vultures would mock me. But I can't stop hoping he pulls off a miracle. His eyes…if only he believed in himself more…"
All these voiceless "heart-voices" formed invisible chains around Chu Tianyi, revealing among them the dirty truths of this glamorous, yet sordid adult world. He winced as the tumult stirred pain in his temples, yet he drank in every detail about Li Manting—her fears, prejudices, jealousies, even lurid fantasies—attempting to piece together the real woman who'd soon stand opposite him.
"The Legend of Li Manting" had become an urban myth within Feichi Group's sales division—a titillating, chilling compendium of sensational tales.
They said Li Manting wore every executive title—Founder, CEO, CFO, and all the other "chiefs"—as her personal crown. Nearly forty, she maintained the beauty of a starlet half her age and a figure that set every man's pulse racing. Yet behind her entrancing, phoenix-like eyes lay an icy detachment, as if any man before her were a plaything to be toyed with or discarded.
Rumor shrouded her origins like the perpetual mists atop the Himalayas: some claimed she was the illegitimate heir of a wealthy European noble family; others insisted she answered to shadowy financiers whose footsteps could shake global markets; the most outlandish whispered she was a centuries-old succubus who fed on male lust. Whatever the truth, one fact remained indisputable—Li Manting was not to be trifled with.
Her business tactics were legendary for their ruthlessness. She demanded perfection from partners and crushed any hint of foolishness or flattery.
"Remember Liu, our Sales Director? He lost that nine-figure strategic deal just for quoting outdated data. Li Manting publicly lambasted him—in perfect London-accented English—for half an hour, mocking Feichi Group as too poor to even buy a market report. When he returned, he tore into his entire project team; several recruits quit in tears."
"And that surprise inspection she did? Our haughty Managing Director had to grovel at her side. Then Wang Hai, wanting to impress, tried to ingratiate himself with a sickening speech about her being a 'role model of modern independent women.' She sidestepped him like avoiding plague, then delicately wiped her sleeve with a jasmine-scented handkerchief—hand-embroidered, of course. Wang Hai locked himself in his office all afternoon, too humiliated to face anyone."
Hearing this, Chu Tianyi's heart jolted. So Wang Hai had already suffered Li Manting's scorn once—and now he was both punishing and protecting himself by making Chu Tianyi the scapegoat. Beyond petty revenge, perhaps Wang Hai secretly hoped for a miracle: that this hapless rookie might somehow conquer Li Manting, letting Wang Hai take the credit.
These half-truths, half-fables weighed on Chu Tianyi, yet also clarified Li Manting's image: formidable, merciless, almost supernatural—a perfect fusion of an iron-hearted queen and a peerless beauty.
No wonder Wang Hai called this a "golden opportunity." For any ambitious salesperson, the chance to win—or catastrophically lose—against Li Manting was either a gateway to glory or a descent into oblivion.
As the office chatter dimmed into furtive whispers, Chu Tianyi ignored it all. He reopened the dossier, this time with laser focus, scouring cold data and brutal case studies for the tiniest crack—an overlooked weakness that even seasoned predecessors had missed.
Sunlight shimmered across the opened file. His bloodshot eyes, drained by sleepless nights, now burned with a wolf-king's hunger—the intoxicating thrill of the chase.
Yes—thrill. On the brink of despair, he'd glimpsed a sliver of hope powerful enough to ignite his primal will to survive and conquer.
To Chu Tianyi, Li Manting—dubbed "The Exterminator" and "Black Widow" by his colleagues—was no longer an insurmountable demon but the ultimate challenge: a lethal seductress veiled in mystery, whose hidden desires he was determined to expose with his "Heart-Hunting Manual."
He wondered: What miracles might unfold when he truly penetrated the psyche of this untouchable ice-queen? What breathtaking spectacle would follow?
Three days—an impossible deadline for any ordinary salesperson. But for him, newly endowed with the "Heart-Hunting Manual" and already wielding its power, it might just be enough time to astonish not only Feichi Group, but the entire city.
With a decisive snap, he closed the dossier. A confident, predatory smile—deep and unfathomable as an ancient, frozen lake—curved his lips for the first time. Rising, he brushed past the pitying, mocking, eager eyes, and strode to his computer.
His first order of business: harness every internal resource and public channel to gather all available intelligence on Li Manting and her empire, Manting International. "Know thy enemy," he reminded himself. "Only then can one emerge victorious."
His fingers danced across the dusty keyboard like the most graceful ballet dancers, each keystroke charged with the electric promise of the hunt.