On her very first day of job hunting, Lin Bei was completely overwhelmed.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t find a job—rather, she realized that not a single listing on the recruitment app advertised “two hours of work per day, an annual salary of 200,000, free meals and accommodation, and a boss who’s easy to get along with.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” she said, lying on the sofa and holding her phone up to Su Chen. “Why do all jobs require a nine-to-six schedule? A nine-to-six job means I have to get up early, squeeze onto the subway, sit in the office all day, and deal with a boss who might be really annoying.”

Su Chen was sitting at the dining table, staring at his laptop without even looking up. “Because that’s what normal work is like.”

“What about abnormal work?” she asked.

“Abnormal work is something you can’t handle.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t even want to do normal work.”

Lin Bei rolled over and buried her face in the sofa cushion. “I’m so miserable.”

Finally, Su Chen lifted his head and glanced at her.

In that look, there was a hint of helplessness, a touch of amusement—and something else that Lin Bei thought might be concern. But she wasn’t sure, because last time she’d misread it, mistaking disdain for care.

“How many resumes have you submitted?” he asked.

“Three.”

“You’ve submitted three in three days?”

“It’s only the first day! Submitting three is already pretty impressive!”

Su Chen closed his laptop and walked over to sit across from her.

“Lin Bei, do you know how many resumes a typical job seeker submits in a day?” he asked.

“How many?”

“Twenty to fifty.”

Lin Bei sat bolt upright. “Twenty to fifty? Don’t they get tired?”

“They need to eat.”

“I want to eat too—”

“You just want to eat the food I cook.”

Lin Bei fell silent.

Because he was right. Ever since she took charge of cooking, Su Chen had been buying higher-quality ingredients. Yesterday he even bought a box of wagyu beef, saying, “Just try it out.” Lin Bei made sukiyaki with that box of wagyu, and the two of them ate until they were stuffed.

These days, her life is like this: living in a luxury mansion, eating wagyu beef, sipping the milk tea Su Chen brings every day, and occasionally lounging on the leather sofa basking in the sun.

Who would want to go to work in a life like this?

“Su Chen,” she said seriously, “I’ve got an idea.”

“What kind of idea?”

“Why don’t you take me on as a full-time nanny? I’ll cook, clean—”

“You can’t even tell the difference between a bath towel and a dishcloth.”

“That was an accident! I can learn!”

“You even wash your socks with my facial cleanser.”

“That was an accident too!”

“You use an Hermès bath towel to mop the floor.”

“Could you stop bringing up the past already!” Lin Bei snapped. “I’ve improved a lot lately! Last week I even cleaned the kitchen windows!”

“That was me who cleaned them.”

“Oh…”

Su Chen looked at her, a faint smile playing on his lips.

The smile was very subtle, but Lin Bei had learned to recognize it—it meant he was in a good mood.

“Lin Bei,” he said, “it’s not that you can’t find a job. It’s that you don’t want to.”

“I know.”

“So what are you going to do? Just keep lying around?”

Lin Bei was silent for a moment.

“Actually,” she said slowly, “there’s something I want to do.”

“What is it?”

“Open an account to teach people how to save money.”

Su Chen was taken aback.

“Save money?”

“That’s right. I’ve done the math—I’m best at saving money in my whole life. How to live on the least amount of money, how to grab freebies, how to haggle, how to turn supermarket discounts into restaurant-quality dishes— I know all of that.”

“How are you planning to do it?”

“Shoot short videos. Teach people how to live frugally.”

Su Chen thought for a moment. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” Lin Bei sat up straight. “I’ve calculated it—starting an account costs nothing. I’ve got the phone—you lent me the money to buy it. The editing software is free. And I’ve got plenty of content. The only cost is time.”

“But you don’t want to spend time, do you?”

“If it’s something you love doing, time isn’t a cost.”

Su Chen looked at her, and his expression changed.

Not the kind of scornful look that says, “You’re talking nonsense”—but a serious, scrutinizing gaze.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes. Tomorrow. Not next month, not after you’ve lain around long enough—tomorrow.”

Lin Bei opened her mouth, wanting to say, “Just two more days,” but when she saw the look in Su Chen’s eyes, she swallowed the words.

End of Chapter 12: Job Hunting Is Much Tiring Than Just Lying Around