TES - 5

Luan Nian disliked wasting time on pleasantries and cut straight to the chase. “Let’s get to the point,” he said briskly. He was a man of simplicity, speed, and efficiency—never one to dawdle or beat around the bush.

Shang Zhitao nodded and began, “I’m studying the planning department’s projects, but there are some parts I don’t understand and would like your advice on. Also… I’d like to ask if you’d be willing to participate in my employee interview assignment.” She sat upright, her posture reminiscent of a diligent student listening attentively in class. Her sitting style was uncommon, exuding humility.

“What don’t you understand?”

Lu Mi had been right—Luan Nian didn’t make things difficult when it came to work. He listened carefully. Shang Zhitao had many questions, so she flipped open her notebook. “May I go through them project by project?”

“Go ahead.”

Luan Nian leaned forward slightly as he listened to her speak. He found this girl amusing; she made no effort to hide her awkwardness or lack of sharpness. Her expressions betrayed that she wasn’t particularly clever. So what is Tracy’s relationship with her? he wondered.

“It’s about the demo production expenses for this project,” Shang Zhitao explained, turning her laptop screen toward him and pointing at a specific spot. The light from the screen illuminated her pale fingertips, giving them a faint pink hue. She looked up at Luan Nian, taking in his handsome features.

“The demo list will be sent tomorrow,” he replied, his gaze still fixed on the screen as he reviewed other annotations she had made. Shang Zhitao wasn’t entirely without merit—her notes were precise and relevant.

“Oh, thank you.”

“And why does this project require an advance payment?” she asked, flipping to the next page of the document.

“The supplier won’t front the costs.”

“But the company’s standard payment process doesn’t allow for that…”

Luan Nian took her laptop, flipped to a certain page, and tapped the screen with his clean fingers. Shang Zhitao saw the words: In special circumstances, expedited approval can be requested.

Her face flushed red. “Sorry, I missed that earlier.”

“It’s fine. Just read more carefully next time.”

Lu Mi had said Luan Nian was serious about work, and indeed, everything had gone smoothly so far.

Just then, Luan Nian’s phone rang. He answered it, and the voice on the other end—a woman crying—was loud enough for Shang Zhitao to overhear fragments like “don’t want to break up.” Crying like this during a breakup isn’t very dignified, she thought reflexively. But then she realized this was her boss’s private life and immediately felt embarrassed.

Luan Nian noticed the subtle shifts in her expression and frowned. “Don’t call me again,” he said curtly before hanging up. Turning back to Shang Zhitao, he found her sitting there, unsure where to look.

She hadn’t meant to pry into his personal affairs, but sometimes coincidences happened.

“Do you have any more questions?” Luan Nian ignored her discomfort—it had nothing to do with him, and he wasn’t obligated to ease her awkwardness, even though it stemmed from his own situation.

“I’d like to see detailed descriptions of these projects—not because I need to verify anything, but simply because I don’t know much yet.”

“I’ll have my secretary send them to you later.”

“And I’d also like to conduct the employee interview,” Shang Zhitao added awkwardly. Though clumsy, she possessed admirable qualities, such as resilience. While she often felt nervous before starting something, once she began, she refused to give up.

“Proceed,” Luan Nian said. He remained leaning forward, legs apart, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together. His posture appeared interested in their conversation, but in reality, he was inwardly cursing her dullness. At the time, Shang Zhitao didn’t realize this was merely a common workplace demeanor—approachable on the surface but indifferent underneath.

“Why did you join this company?”

“My father pulled strings to get me in.” Luan Nian spoke seriously, making even this statement sound genuine.

The answer caught Shang Zhitao off guard. She studied his expression closely, trying to discern whether he was joking or being sincere, but couldn’t tell.

“What qualities of L&M do you find impressive?”

“They pay well.”

“That’s true. L&M is more generous than other companies,” Shang Zhitao agreed wholeheartedly. After all, someone with her qualifications wouldn’t receive such compensation elsewhere.

“Do you enjoy your job?”

“No.”

Shang Zhitao froze, unsure whether he was teasing her or being serious. But Luan Nian was always unreadable when serious—his face might as well have been carved from stone. How could anyone decipher truth from such an expression? By now, she was stuck on how to continue the interview.

Luan Nian didn’t rush her but glanced at his watch.

Realizing she was being subtly dismissed, Shang Zhitao hurriedly asked, “If you don’t like it, why do you stay here?”

“To earn money and spend it lavishly.”

“Could you give me some advice then?”

“Are you sure you want my advice?” Luan Nian raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure,” she nodded.

“Find another job as soon as possible. L&M isn’t suitable for you. That’s my advice to you.”

Shang Zhitao didn’t know what kind of answers others received during their senior interviews, but his response left her flustered. She couldn’t muster the confidence to insist otherwise—in fact, she herself doubted her abilities. For a moment, tears welled up in her eyes, though she bit her lip hard to keep them from falling.

Years later, Shang Zhitao would come to realize that her dynamic with Luan Nian had been predetermined from the start—he stood high above, indifferent to everything, while she trailed behind, learning constantly. The exchange between giver and receiver, teacher and student, was inherently unequal.

Luan Nian wasn’t surprised by her reaction. During her remote interview, he had decided to reject her candidacy after hearing just her greeting. It wasn’t rashness on his part—the advertising industry required individuals who were worldly and bold.

“Any more questions?” he asked again.

“Yes.”

“Ask.”

“Why do you think I’m not suited for this place?”

“Probably because you’re still asking for reasons at this point.” Luan Nian stood up. “The demo list I mentioned will be sent tomorrow.”

Shang Zhitao gathered her materials and laptop, sensing his lingering gaze. Straightening up, she adopted a slightly stubborn yet polite stance. “Alright, thank you.”

She dared not look at him. In her mind, his eyes spelled out: You’re not good enough. She imagined those three words leaping out every time he blinked, hanging over her head like a glaring sign. Feigning composure, she walked out of his office and returned to her desk. Lu Mi had already left, leaving a note: “Go home early. There’ll be plenty of overtime later!”

But Shang Zhitao wouldn’t leave. Instead, she opened her computer to write her interview feedback. Honesty guided her pen—no lies, no embellishments. Especially the line: Luke advised me to find another job soon, saying I’m not suited for this place. Finishing, she clicked submit.

She wasn’t challenging authority—she didn’t even realize the feedback would reach HR, her mentor, her direct supervisor, and the interviewee himself. She simply wanted to be truthful. On her first day at L&M, she couldn’t fabricate a coherent, polished interview record.

As Luan Nian prepared to leave, a system notification popped up. Opening it, he read Shang Zhitao’s submission.

She really has no brains.

Tracy’s call came shortly after. “Did you tell the new recruit that you work here to earn and squander money?”

“What else should I say?”

“And you encouraged her to quit?”

“Mhm.”

“...” Tracy knew Luan Nian’s personality well and sighed deeply. “Do you know your promotion is coming soon?”

“How is that related to my participation in interviews?”

“There’s no direct connection, but you need to respect diversity in hiring.”

“How is respecting diversity related to thinking she’s incompetent?”

This conversation was futile. Tracy fell silent for two seconds, then said, “If you weren’t my junior, I’d report you to the board and have you fired.”

“Be my guest.”

After hanging up, Luan Nian glanced at Shang Zhitao’s feedback again. Despite himself, he chuckled in exasperation.