TES - 13

Shang Zhitao finally experienced the true intensity of business trips in an advertising company. She had once imagined them to be leisurely, but reality was anything but—nonstop hustle.

The dim sum breakfast ended, and the endless work began. The group split into four teams. Due to her lack of experience, Shang Zhitao was assigned as Luan Nian’s assistant, while Lu Mi was dispatched to oversee the event venue.

Shang Zhitao wasn’t one to hold grudges; the morning’s unpleasantness quickly faded from her mind. However, she wondered if Luan Nian harbored any resentment. As colleagues gradually dispersed, only she and Luan Nian remained seated.

Shang Zhitao felt slightly uneasy—she couldn’t pinpoint why. Every time she was near Luan Nian, unease seemed to creep up on her. Deep down, she feared he might seize the opportunity to reprimand her again, treating her like a disappointing student.

“Come sit closer,” Luan Nian gestured toward the seat beside him. Obediently, Shang Zhitao moved closer, catching a whiff of his pleasant scent—an indescribable aroma, unlike typical cologne. At this moment, he appeared less harsh, somewhat calmer.

Luan Nian pushed his laptop slightly in her direction, showing her the schedule his secretary had just sent over: “Today, we’ll meet with three clients. The first client is in the execution phase—one part involves Lu Mi overseeing the main visuals and overall copy for the event venue. The second client has been secured, but minor adjustments to the creative portion are needed. The third client requires attending a dinner; sales have been following up for a long time, entering the deep demand exploration stage. Given their presence on our super-client whitelist and the equivalent title of attendees from both parties, I need to make an appearance.”

Luan Nian paused, turning slightly to ask Shang Zhitao, “Did you understand what I just explained?”

Shang Zhitao nodded. “Yes.”

“Your task is to take detailed meeting minutes for the first two clients and send them to me immediately after each meeting. Observe the clients’ reactions and share your thoughts afterward.”

“Got it.”

“Do you drink alcohol?” Luan Nian asked.

“No.”

He gave her a piercing look—one she understood well: How dare you enter the advertising world without knowing how to drink? But instead of backing down, she met his gaze head-on, defiantly challenging him with her expression: So what if I don’t drink?

Shang Zhitao could be amusing at times—either excessively humble, allowing anyone to push her around, or suddenly bristling, making her seem a tad unapproachable, albeit barely.

Defiance aside, work still needed to be done. Serious as ever, she asked Luan Nian, “Luke, didn’t Lu Mi mention that the creative center has specific templates for meeting minutes? Could you send me one?” Lu Mi hadn’t said such a thing, but given Luan Nian’s meticulous nature, Shang Zhitao wanted to avoid criticism later.

Without hesitation, Luan Nian retrieved a sample of the meeting minutes—a mere 300 words. Shang Zhitao thought she misread it, suspecting he was teasing her. “Is this really the meeting minutes?” It was far shorter than those used by the marketing department.

“Yes. Did you see it clearly? Focus on key points—no fluff.”

“Understood.”

Shang Zhitao realized she couldn’t quite grasp Luan Nian’s style. She assumed he was highly demanding about work, yet their meeting minutes were so brief. Yet, when she thought he wasn’t strict, he constantly offered suggestions.

“Any more questions about the work?” Luan Nian asked.

“No...”

“Let’s go.”

Beyond discussing work, Luan Nian refrained from speaking another word to Shang Zhitao. Standing by the roadside with his handsome face set stern, he hailed a taxi. Pointing to the café umbrella nearby, Shang Zhitao respectfully suggested, “You can wait there while I hail the cab.” A subordinate’s deference toward her boss.

Luan Nian glanced at her. He disliked this behavior, especially from Shang Zhitao. Most subordinates acted similarly, but hers irked him more. He considered scolding her but ultimately restrained himself.

What’s it to me? Let her hail the cab if she wants.

Why do I keep thinking about scolding some idiot?

With that internal monologue, he actually stepped aside to watch Shang Zhitao hail the taxi.

When boarding, Luan Nian opened the car door, glanced at Shang Zhitao’s floral dress, and silently took the inner seat.

Shang Zhitao vaguely felt cared for but wasn’t sure. She realized she wasn’t as afraid of Luan Nian as she had been the previous week. Though his words were sharp, he was genuinely serious about work. He spoke little, but every word carried weight—you simply listened attentively. What needed teaching, he taught; what needed saying, he said.

Watching Luan Nian interact with clients, Shang Zhitao saw how different it was compared to her university days when they nervously approached clients, too timid to negotiate or offer suggestions. Back then, clients easily manipulated them, often sighing, “Ah, the budget isn’t high. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll consider other groups.”

“You don’t need to ask others—we’re the best, cheap and excellent.”

But Luan Nian?

Luan Nian exuded confidence—it didn’t matter whether you were the client or not. His demeanor implied complete control. Yet, he maintained tact, avoiding offense.

He presented a creative idea, engaging in earnest discussions with the client. When encountering disagreement, he slowed down, thoughtfully analyzed, and pointed out flaws in the client’s proposal—methodical and calm.

For instance, he’d ask, “So, who exactly is the target audience for this creative concept? Can we break down the elements?”

Or he’d say, “Over the past three years, we’ve tried this communication method three times with poor results.” Then, he’d open his laptop to display relevant data—all meticulously categorized in his mind, ready for retrieval whenever needed.

He even smiled warmly at the female executive from the client side: “Price cuts aren’t always the best strategy.”

How gentle he could be. His gentleness transformed him entirely, making people feel as though basking in spring sunshine.

Luan Nian was always surprising. Shang Zhitao expected arrogance but found none. Truly, he was an enigma.

After concluding with the first client, they escorted them downstairs until departure.

Shang Zhitao felt she learned textbook-level meeting skills—though no book could replicate these experiences. Looking at Luan Nian now, admiration gleamed in her eyes. She stole glances, caught herself, then unabashedly voiced her thoughts: “You’re truly amazing—the meeting earlier was incredible.”

“Is flattery a required course in university?” Luan Nian teased.

Unflappable despite his jab, she continued undeterred: “I learned a lot today from you.”

“What did you learn?”

After pondering, she replied slyly, “To leverage gender advantages—smiling at female clients.” Her mischievous grin lit up her entire being.

Luan Nian studied her intently. This campus recruit, who had tearfully stomped her feet earlier, now dared to joke with him in the afternoon—bold indeed. Glancing away, he entered a roadside convenience store, purchasing two bottles of water chestnut juice, tossing one to Shang Zhitao, who hastily caught it: “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

As Luan Nian drank, his peripheral vision caught Shang Zhitao’s sun-kissed cheeks. An ordinary girl, yet tilting her neck slightly to sip her drink exuded subtle, clean sensuality. Something gently tugged at his heart.

Very lightly.