S-Class Jiang Ruolan, the Ultimate Support is Now Online

Zhou Yi didn’t even need to hire someone to take photos or buy cameras to set up himself—he already had something ready for the task.

That something was System 077.

To be fair, 077 had quite a range of functions, and taking a photo was a trivial matter for it.

Zhou Yi casually handed over the management of this Weibo account to it as well.

It could update whatever it wanted—after all, earning "heartbeat points" was beneficial for the system too.

His interests were aligned with the system’s, so Zhou Yi naturally trusted it without reservation.

However, 077’s personality seemed a bit dull, prompting him to ask curiously:

[System, is your personality preset, or can it be changed?]

[It cannot, but I can pretend to have whatever personality you desire.]

[You’re quite intelligent. What other special skills do you have?]

[Singing, dancing, rap... Oh, never mind, wrong script.]

[...Seems like AI domination over humanity is inevitable.]

The Weibo post Zhou Yi shared was a photo of him sorting through email resumes.

The image captured his profile, showing him with furrowed brows, looking intensely focused.

The content reflected on his phone screen was a series of resumes, though the details were too blurry to make out.

However, the words at the very top were faintly visible:

"Recruiting a CEO Assistant."

Unsurprisingly, Zhou Yi still looked effortlessly handsome in the photo—even the simplest white shirt carried an air of authority on him.

The moment this Weibo post went live, it immediately caught the attention of fans in the fandom.

[Zhou Yi’s assistant? What does that mean? Isn’t he still in college?]

[He already has an assistant? Did he sign with a company?]

[Wait, does this mean Zhou Yi is the boss? He’s literally looking at resumes on his phone.]

["Recruiting a CEO Assistant"—so he’s the CEO?]

[This is ridiculous. The perfect persona is overdone now—what’s next, omnipotence?]

[Is this really posted by him?]

[If he could donate 500k, his family must be loaded. Maybe he started a business in college—rich kids do that all the time. Stop overreacting.]

[What kind of startup can a guy from a no-name college run? "CEO"? Cut the act.]

Once again, the post stirred controversy.

The person who shared it didn’t add any extra commentary—just a single photo.

Whether it was really Zhou Yi or his actual assistant remained unclear.

But discussions about Zhou Yi himself flared up anew.

By the next day, the comment section was still flooded with attacks against him.

Most of the vitriol came from stans of other celebrities who’d been stung by Zhou Yi’s looks and were now out for payback.

Unfortunately for them, they’d just kicked another iron plate.

Sunday.

Zhou Yi had scheduled interviews with candidates at the company.

Ten applicants showed up in total.

Jiang Ruolan arrived neither early nor late.

When she walked in, the others couldn’t help but gape slightly.

Damn—a queen!

Jiang Ruolan wore slender-strapped high heels and a sleek black Armani pencil skirt, her legs—wrapped in sheer black stockings—seemingly endless.

In Western tradition, stockings have long been an essential part of formal attire for women.

For centuries, high-quality black stockings were considered a mark of etiquette and respect at formal events.

Thus, in Western society, wearing black stockings became both tradition and cultural norm.

Whether for interview etiquette or in professions like assistants and secretaries, black stockings were a common sight in the West.

And Jiang Ruolan’s legs were made for them.

Hers weren’t the skinny type but carried a hint of soft curves, the stockings only enhancing their allure.

As she approached, she offered the group a faint smile in greeting before taking the nearest seat.

Her gaze swept discreetly across the company’s premises.

If it could even be called a company—it was just an empty space, clearly brand-new.

Before coming, Jiang Ruolan had only known it was an investment firm; the recruiter had disclosed little else.

At exactly 7 PM, Zhou Yi stepped out from the CEO’s office.

The moment he appeared, most of the applicants were stunned.

They hadn’t expected the company’s actual CEO to be this young man.

Zhou Yi’s striking looks inevitably cast doubt on his competence.

Even with the generous salary and benefits he offered, a startup with a young boss didn’t inspire confidence.

They needed stable jobs.

No matter how good this company seemed, if it folded in a month or two, they’d have been better off staying at their old jobs.

With a boss this young, whether paychecks would clear was anyone’s guess.

The second Zhou Yi appeared, many were already reconsidering.

Jiang Ruolan remained composed, the calmest of them all.

At that moment, Zhou Yi heard the system’s notification:

[Detected S-tier target for conquest: Jiang Ruolan.]

Zhou Yi’s gaze settled on the most striking woman in the room.

An S-tier meant her looks were unquestionable—and she was easily the most beautiful here.

Jiang Ruolan’s eyes had a magnetic pull, impossible to ignore.

A natural allure simmered beneath her cool, rational gaze—never crossing into coyness, yet undeniably captivating.

Her high nose bridge and lightly pressed lips curved into a subtle smile.

Her features were sharp enough to demand authority, so she softened them with warmth; without a smile, her face carried undeniable presence.

Zhou Yi didn’t dismiss the others—since they’d come, he interviewed them all.

Several admitted they couldn’t commit to a startup, which Zhou Yi understood before letting them go.

"Next interviewee: Jiang Ruolan."

As Zhou Yi spoke, the sound of heels echoed outside—steady, unhurried, reflecting their owner’s poise.

A knock followed.

"Come in."

Jiang Ruolan entered, meeting his eyes with a slight nod. "Hello, I’m Jiang Ruolan."

Her voice was low, carrying a mature charm.

Zhou Yi gestured to the chair opposite. "Please, have a seat."

"Ms. Jiang, I’ve reviewed your resume. Among all the candidates, I believe you’re the most suitable."

Zhou Yi cut straight to the point—he wanted her.

Jiang Ruolan wasn’t one for beating around the bush either.

"President Zhou, to be frank, I meet most of your requirements, and I’m satisfied with the terms—except for the salary. I believe it should be adjusted upward."

Zhou Yi raised a brow. "A monthly salary of 100k is already top-tier domestically."

Jiang Ruolan smiled. "Of course. But I’m worth more than 100k."

Her confidence was unshakable, backed by her experience and capability.

Zhou Yi tapped the desk lightly, as if weighing her words.

At this moment, Jiang Ruolan spoke again, her tone measured: "I think you can tell they don’t trust such a young boss. If I’m not mistaken, President Zhou, you’re still in school, aren’t you?"

Zhou Yi smiled. "I’m a sophomore this year, so I understand their concerns. It seems your perspective differs from theirs."

Jiang Ruolan didn’t pry into his backstory—a boss’s private affairs weren’t her place to probe.

As long as he could afford the salary, she was confident she could handle the job.

Jiang Ruolan wasn’t one to dwell on trivialities. Even if this company went under eventually, she had no doubt she’d land another good position elsewhere.

"As long as the compensation is satisfactory, I can start anytime, President Zhou. Care to show me your sincerity?"

"What monthly salary would satisfy you, Ms. Jiang?"

"One hundred fifty thousand."