In her twenty-five years, Zhou Shuyun’s biggest obstacle wasn’t the humiliation of graduating straight into unemployment, or the embarrassment of having her security deposit swiped by a roommate. It was standing in a hospital corridor with a gynecological test report in hand when she ran into Gu Yuheng, the top-tier star and CEO who was every girl in the city’s dream man, and having him spot the “yeast infection” diagnosis on her report.
From then on, her life went completely off the rails. At a job interview, HR handed her warm salt water and said it was “a special employee benefit approved by President Gu.” When she worked late into the night, the entire office building suddenly stocked low-sugar yogurt because a certain CEO had heard that “probiotics are good for women’s health.” Even when she went downstairs to pick up a package, a baffled security guard handed her a pack of cotton period underwear, adding, “President Gu said you should wear fewer tight pants.”
Gu Yuheng, head of the Gu Group and the ruthless “Iceberg King of Hell” of the business world, turned his CEO catchphrases into a guide to women’s health after meeting Zhou Shuyun. Between international meetings, he’d have his assistant rush-ship organic dried cranberries. At banquets, he’d replace champagne with soda water, his face stern as he explained, “Someone gets menstrual cramps when she drinks cold things.” And at a press conference surrounded by reporters, he calmly cleared up a rumor: “Sorry, I’m researching dietary plans for menstrual periods. I don’t have time for dating.”
As Zhou Shuyun looked at the CEO who’d sent his private plane to take her to a gynecological specialist in a neighboring city and turned the company cafeteria into a “women’s health light-meal café,” all she wanted to do was kneel and beg for mercy. “President Gu! Please stop using CEO-style tactics to manage my gynecological problems! Everyone in the company knows I have abnormal vaginal discharge now!”
