TES - 7

Shang Zhitao remembered the coffee incident. The next morning, after getting off the bus, she went straight to a coffee shop. She had never been a coffee drinker before—only occasionally consuming instant coffee during exams for a quick energy boost. Her reasoning was simple: she wanted her mentor to enjoy coffee bought by her, allowing Lu Mi to hold her head high in front of others.

After paying, she stood there waiting, her posture unnaturally rigid, introducing an air of formality into the otherwise relaxed environment.

The barista called out, “Your coffee is ready.”

“Thank you.” As she turned to grab her coffee, she spotted Luan Nian standing at the checkout counter. Flustered, she quickly greeted him, “Good morning, Luke,” forgetting entirely to offer him a cup.

“Morning.” Luan Nian replied curtly, offering no further words. Shang Zhitao felt awkward and slightly intimidated, mumbling, “See you later, Luke,” before turning and running off.

She didn’t even have the emotional intelligence to offer Luan Nian a coffee.

What an idiot.

Today was the campus recruits’ training day.

Sitting in the training room, Shang Zhitao watched the orientation video. She expected an inspirational company history but forgot she was at L&M—a company that disdained motivational fluff, preferring instead to present harsh realities.

In the final segment, the video listed the elimination rates of campus recruits over the past decade, shocking viewers. A line appeared on the screen: If you feel you’re not up to the task, it’s not shameful. Stand up, leave the training room, and you’ll still receive two months’ salary as compensation.

Thinking back to Luan Nian advising her to quit, she now interpreted his words as kindness.

As the video ended, silence filled the training room.

Tracy smiled at everyone. “No need to be so somber. For our second session, we’re fortunate to have Luke, the company’s Creative Consultant and Head of Planning. Despite being only 28, Luke won an international advertising award at 22 and is hailed as a creative genius. Let’s welcome Luke with applause.”

What a clichéd introduction. Luan Nian’s furrowed brows conveyed his disdain for Tracy’s overly dramatic description.

He wasn’t exactly known for his patience.

From the back row, Shang Zhitao observed him, thinking, Lu Mi was right—I should stay away from him. Yet, his presentation was brilliant. He outlined L&M’s creative principles: simplicity, sophistication, warmth, and aesthetics. His slides exemplified these ideals, each page meticulously designed.

Listening to him speak was an unparalleled pleasure.

He was concise and efficient, delivering a 40-minute presentation without a single wasted word. Afterward, Tracy kept him onstage for a Q&A session. Kitty raised her hand first: “Is Luke single?”

Laughter erupted. Ignoring the question, Luan Nian responded coldly, “Next question.” He loathed inappropriate jokes in such settings, considering them a waste of everyone’s time—akin to theft.

“Does the company allow colleagues to date?” another employee asked.

“The company doesn’t prohibit romantic relationships, but there are two rules: no superior-subordinate relationships, and no involvement in departments with conflicting interests,” Tracy answered. She then encouraged the group, “Don’t you have any professional questions for Luke? This is a rare opportunity.”

Silence fell once more.

Shang Zhitao had plenty of questions but hesitated to ask Luan Nian. She feared he might publicly advise her to resign, which would be mortifying. Instead, she lowered her head, jotting down notes to ask Lu Mi later.

Luan Nian scanned the room, feeling somewhat disappointed by this batch of recruits. Not one stood out, especially the most timid one who seemed to bury her head in her knees. Shrugging at Tracy, he turned and exited the training room.

At the time, Shang Zhitao didn’t realize how work often operated—if you missed the optimal moment to ask a question, waiting longer made it nearly impossible. By the time she finished training and returned to her desk, Lu Mi had already left for an event. Sitting at her workstation, she resumed studying the industry handbook she hadn’t finished earlier, her notes densely filling the margins.

Shang Zhitao had one notable strength:

Her handwriting was exquisite.

When she was in elementary school, a sudden trend of learning calligraphy swept through her city. Children queued up after school to practice brush and pen calligraphy. The only extracurricular class Shang Zhitao ever attended was calligraphy. She persevered longer than others, continuing lessons even after the trend faded in middle school.

Her handwriting truly stood out.

Each stroke carried elegance, even casual scribbles exuded beauty. Using her skillful penmanship, she meticulously took notes on the industry handbook, almost forgetting to eat. When she finally finished reviewing the material and looked up, the moon hung high in the sky. Checking her watch—it was 10:30 PM. If she hurried, she could still catch the last bus home.

Springing to her feet, she grabbed her bag and dashed out of the office like a gust of wind, disappearing from sight. Even on the bus, her mind remained preoccupied with those obscure terms: ATL, BTL, AE, brief, PR… Though she’d encountered them in textbooks and lectures, applying them in real work felt different. She thought of Kitty, who seemed to know everything, shining like the sun.

During her first week of work, Shang Zhitao’s mind overflowed with knowledge. The intensity of her learning far surpassed anything she’d experienced in school. Everything seemed fine—except for Luan Nian. Lu Mi assigned her tasks involving Luan Nian, but Shang Zhitao tried to decline, claiming incompetence. Lu Mi interrupted sharply, “Never say you can’t do something, especially in front of Luke. If he hears it, he’ll likely arrange your resignation paperwork the same day.”

“And think about it this way—if you can handle someone like Luke, what other challenges can’t you overcome? Right?” Lu Mi attempted to motivate Shang Zhitao. As a wealthy second-generation heir, working in Beijing’s elite circles was just a way to keep busy. Avoiding Luan Nian’s sour expressions would be ideal.

“How did you manage Luke?” Shang Zhitao earnestly asked.

Lu Mi burst out laughing. “I didn’t manage him—that’s why I’m passing the baton to you! Wait a moment; I’ll have the boss give him a heads-up first, then you step in.”

...

Nervously, Shang Zhitao sent a message to Luan Nian on the internal chat app: “Good evening, Luke. Since my mentor, Lu Mi, is currently handling a case involving Guangzhou and Shenzhen, she has assigned me to oversee the closing stages of the planning department’s upcoming completed projects. Please guide me accordingly.”

Glancing furtively at Luan Nian’s office, she saw him seated at his computer. Beads of sweat formed in her palms. After a long while, Luan Nian’s avatar lit up—he responded with just two words: “Change personnel.”

Unsurprisingly disappointing.

On Friday evening of her first week, Shang Zhitao faced a dilemma. How could she proceed if he insisted on replacing her? She called Lu Mi, but Lu Mi was already at a nightclub, shouting into the phone, “Hey, sis! I’m enjoying my weekend! See you Monday, come hell or high water!”

“But the signature…” Before Shang Zhitao could finish, Lu Mi had hung up. The document remained unsigned, and finance was pressing her. Alone, she groaned and collapsed onto her desk. After a long while, she mustered the courage to stand up, clutching the folder and heading to Luan Nian’s office. His secretary had already left, leaving her no choice but to face him directly.

If he refuses to sign, I’ll just leave the folder on his desk and declare it’s not my problem anymore!

If he tells me to quit again, I’ll say—you’re not my boss!

Naïve Shang Zhitao mentally scripted all possible confrontations with Luan Nian, steeling herself with a sense of impending doom as she knocked on his office door. His deep voice resonated: “Come in.”