Chapter 134: Capitalists Are All Skinflints

In truth, Yu Qian did not care much about being ambushed in the game. Having been intercepted countless times in her previous life, she had long since grown accustomed to it. As for the members of the "Gods" guild who sought revenge on her behalf, she chose not to say much; she knew they acted out of kindness.

Entering the study, she found her parents, Yu Wen and Wen Yu, both busy on their phones. At some point, her parents’ Mandarin had become increasingly polished, their thick Sichuan accents long since faded. Yu Qian smiled to herself, left the room to brew a pot of fat sea-nut tea, and brought it back to the study, pouring a cup for each of them.

Once they had reached a natural pause in their work, she spoke up: "Actually, these matters could be delegated to the designers. The creators themselves know best which people are suited for their garments."

"We gave them time off; it wouldn’t be right to make them work overtime," Yu Wen replied, rubbing his temples as he picked up the cup to take a sip.

"Dad, that’s where you’re mistaken. For a designer, there is immense satisfaction in seeing their work recognized, liked, and worn by others. Besides, if they know that celebrities will be wearing their pieces, they’ll be absolutely thrilled."

Yu Wen paused, and Wen Yu asked, "Is that so?"

"Mom, think of it this way: if I went out wearing clothes you made and everyone complimented them, saying they were stylish, wouldn't you be happy?"

"Of course I would!" Wen Yu nodded.

"I’m just an ordinary person, and you’d be happy if others thought my outfit looked good. If those celebrities wear these designs and their fans rave about them, don’t you think the designers would be happy too?"

Yu Wen and his wife exchanged a glance. It seemed she was right. They had only focused on the fact that it was the staff's day off and felt guilty about calling them in, never considering whether the employees themselves might actually want to do it.

With the realization dawned, they didn't have time to discuss it further with their daughter before returning to their calls. This time, however, they were calling Lawyer Cao and the design department. They called Lawyer Cao because overtime naturally required overtime pay, and he knew exactly how to handle it.

Seeing how cumbersome their calling process was, Yu Qian simply pulled over a laptop, registered a Penguin account for each of them, and then used Wen Yu’s account to create a group chat.

"Mom, send a mass text with this string of numbers so everyone can join the group. Once they're in, post the list of people borrowing the gowns. Let them decide which celebrities suit their designs, and have them report back to you."

Wen Yu was familiar with using a computer, but she hadn't encountered Penguin before. After sending out the group ID, she began asking her daughter how to operate it. Yu Wen leaned in to listen as well; after all, his daughter had set him up with an account too.

"What if multiple designers claim the same person?" Wen Yu suddenly asked.

"That's simple. You take a look first. If you can't decide, send the options to the client and let them choose for themselves."

Wen Yu nodded; that would certainly save her a lot of trouble. Once everyone had joined the group, she posted the list of those borrowing the dresses and asked for their decisions by six o'clock. Since they were scheduled to meet the agents and assistants at nine that evening to hand over the clothes, they just needed to have the selections finalized and the shop staff notified by six.

With the tasks delegated, the couple finally had time to properly spend with their daughter.

"Mom, Dad, I need you to understand something. You aren't just running a small, independent shop anymore; you are senior executives of a company. You don't need to do everything yourselves; you can entrust these things to your staff. Don't worry about whether they’re willing to do it—the generous overtime pay will be enough to satisfy them. After all, no one ever complains about having too much money."

Yu Qian guided them to the sofa in the study and began lecturing her parents. It was fortunate that both of them knew their daughter possessed the mental age of an adult; otherwise, seeing a child act so maturely would have left them bewildered.

While Yu Qian was busy educating her parents, the employees back at the company who had been called in for overtime were feeling quite pleased. They had initially assumed this was mandatory, unpaid labor—after all, having a celebrity wear their design was a benefit in itself. They hadn't expected to receive a notification from the finance department of a deposit into their accounts, under the auspicious label of "overtime pay."

The bosses were generous. For such a short amount of extra work, they were actually receiving triple the standard overtime rate. Who said capitalists were all skinflints? Their Red Powder company was certainly not.