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While Luan Nian was conducting the interview, Shang Zhitao waited outside.
Lingmei paid well, so she had to ensure everything went smoothly. After completing this deal, it would be time for the Lunar New Year, and she wanted to enjoy a carefree holiday. She couldn’t afford any mistakes and remained meticulous.
A reporter from the provincial television station asked her, “How much longer until we can go in for the interview?” Shang Zhitao glanced through the transparent glass—Luan Nian’s body was slightly leaning forward as he spoke, a sign that he was growing impatient.
She told them, “The current session will end in about five minutes.”
“You didn’t go in to confirm?” The reporter had built a good rapport with Shang Zhitao and noticed that she hadn’t gone inside to check as she used to, prompting his question.
“I estimated—it’s almost over.”
She had arranged countless interviews for Luan Nian in the past and knew his mannerisms well. True enough, three or four minutes later, Luan Nian patted the interviewer on the shoulder and, along with Will, escorted them out.
Shang Zhitao turned to the reporters and said, “Please go ahead.”
Luan Nian’s gaze swept over Shang Zhitao before he turned and walked back inside. Standing by the glass wall, he could see her outside. She was constantly on the phone, likely coordinating the next steps. Lumi approached her, and after hanging up, Shang Zhitao smiled at Lumi and handed her a pre-bought coffee.
Luan Nian shifted his focus and concentrated on the interview. When it ended, he felt a bit tired, and Fu Dong guided him to the rest area.
Watching Fu Dong scurry around diligently, Luan Nian asked, “How long have you been with this company?”
“Mr. Luan, I’ve been here for over three years.”
“Aren’t you afraid the company might go bankrupt?”
“…No way. If our boss’s company goes under, no other company stands a chance.”
Your boss isn’t a god, Luan Nian thought as he stood up. Fu Dong quickly said, “Please sit, please sit. Would you like some coffee? Lumi mentioned you prefer Americano. It’s already prepared.” He rushed out to fetch the coffee and placed it in front of Luan Nian, adding, “Lumi said you love iced coffee, but it’s too cold here in Ice City during winter. Drinking it might kill you. Hot is better.”
Luan Nian furrowed his brow and asked, “Who trained you in reception etiquette?”
“Our boss did. She said, aside from not sleeping with clients, anything else is fine.”
“Sleeping with clients is the bottom line?” Luan Nian pressed.
“Hehe.” Fu Dong’s mouth ran away with him—he just blurted it out. Shang Zhitao hadn’t actually trained them in that; she merely taught them to read people’s expressions.
Fu Dong chuckled, “You rest for a bit. I won’t disturb you,” and left like the wind.
“I want an iced Americano,” Luan Nian suddenly declared.
“Uh…” Fu Dong hesitated. There was no iced Americano nearby unless they dug ice out of the ground. But he didn’t dare say that. “Mr. Luan, please wait. We’ll check.”
He went out to find Shang Zhitao and told her, “Mr. Luan wants an iced Americano.”
Lumi, standing nearby, widened her eyes. “At his age, drinking iced coffee? Isn’t that bad for his prostate?”
Shang Zhitao burst into laughter. “He’s really hard to please. There’s no iced Americano around here.”
“What should we do? He looked serious when he made the request. I didn’t dare tell him it wasn’t available—I’m afraid he won’t pay us.” Having worked with Shang Zhitao for so long, Fu Dong had money on his mind. How could they run a business without getting paid?
“You go!” Lumi nudged Shang Zhitao. “We’re doing this for his own good.”
“I’m not going.” Shang Zhitao took a bite of the dessert provided. “If he doesn’t pay, I’ll sue him.”
And with that, she turned and walked away.
She didn’t want to play along. After six years with Luan Nian, she gradually understood many things after leaving him—what was posturing, what was calculated restraint. This was who he was: he always wanted to control others. Once they submitted, he was satisfied.
But Shang Zhitao no longer bowed her head.
Luan Nian sat in the rest area for a long time, waiting for neither the iced Americano nor Shang Zhitao. She had left him hanging.
Luan Nian roughly understood Shang Zhitao’s message: I’m earning my fee, but I’m not serving you. After several years of hustling on her own, she had developed both temperament and backbone.
During the evening banquet, Jiang Lan arrived fashionably late. Passing by Shang Zhitao, who was overseeing the dishes being served, she slowed her steps, then turned back. Pointing at Shang Zhitao, she tapped her head, struggling to recall her name.
“Ms. Jiang, it’s been a while. I’m Flora Shang.”
“Ohhh!” Jiang Lan exclaimed three times. “Are you back at Lingmei?”
“No. I started an event company here in Ice City.” Shang Zhitao pulled out a business card with both hands and presented it. Jiang Lan took it, read it carefully, tucked it into her bag, and muttered, “Not bad,” giving Shang Zhitao a deep look before walking away.
Jiang Lan sat beside Luan Nian and asked, “Guess who I just saw?” Without waiting for his response, she pushed Shang Zhitao’s business card toward him and leaned in, whispering, “I think I know why you suddenly decided to come.”
Before Luan Nian could react, she turned to Song Qiuhan. “Mr. Song, last time you refused my dinner invitation. Let’s have a few drinks today.”
“Sure.”
The banquet was for Lingmei’s top clients. Shang Zhitao watched as the festivities began, gave Fu Dong a few more instructions, and then left the venue. She had a blind date that evening.
The blind date was set at a Sichuan restaurant. When she arrived, the young man was already seated.
The matchmaker hadn’t lied when describing him as handsome—he had thick eyebrows and large eyes, looking quite presentable.
The young man was talkative, practically carrying the conversation on his own, which amused Shang Zhitao.
When they discussed work, the young man was curious about Shang Zhitao’s job. “So, you’re always running between hotels?”
“Venues,” Shang Zhitao corrected.
“Same thing. Doesn’t that mean you’re familiar with many hotels? Can you get discounted rooms?”
“…Yes, I can. Sometimes even for free.”
“Great.”
Shang Zhitao had grown numb to blind dates. She chatted with him for a while longer, then excused herself by saying she needed to work overtime and left without eating much.
Lumi called her: “How was the blind date?”
“Just the usual—going through the motions.”
“Really good?” Lumi feigned deafness. “Does ‘really good’ mean it’s a match?” As she spoke, she glanced at Luan Nian in the rearview mirror. His expression remained impassive, not moving an inch. Lumi felt like she might be overstepping. Perhaps she really was unnecessary. But she wasn’t giving up—it wouldn’t hurt to try again.
The next morning, she called Shang Zhitao early: “Are you on your way?”
“Not yet. Fu Dong and the others went ahead.”
“That’s perfect. Are you driving there?”
“Yes.”
“I forgot to register Luke. Can you give him a ride?”
“I’ll find another car.”
After hanging up, Shang Zhitao went off to arrange transportation. It was hard to find a long-distance vehicle in Ice City during this season. After making over ten calls, she still couldn’t secure one. Lumi pressed her again: “Hurry up! Stubborn mule is asking. If he finds out I didn’t arrange anything, my year-end bonus is toast.”
“Alright.”
Shang Zhitao drove to Luan Nian’s hotel and called him: “I’m here to pick you up and head to the destination.”
“Doesn’t your company have anyone else?”
“Or would you prefer to participate remotely?” Shang Zhitao had little patience for Luan Nian. When he didn’t speak properly, she became even sharper. She now particularly disliked people who couldn’t communicate clearly.
She heard his breathing on the phone and knew he was angry again. She remained silent, waiting for him to lash out. After a long pause, Luan Nian finally said: “Wait for me at the hotel entrance.”
Shang Zhitao had stayed up late the previous night and was now wearing glasses with dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was loose and scattered over her shoulders, giving her a lazy appearance. She didn’t get out of the car to open the door for Luan Nian—it was too cold, and it was snowing. If they didn’t leave soon, the highway might close, and there was no telling what time they’d arrive at their destination.
Shang Zhitao had just bought the new car last week. With the company’s business growing, she sometimes needed a more impressive vehicle for client meetings. Though she couldn’t afford anything too expensive, she put down a deposit on this car, priced under 700,000 yuan. Luan Nian got in, fastened his seatbelt, and casually remarked: “Bought with the money from selling bags?”
Shang Zhitao glanced at him and smiled: “Bought with the money from selling myself.”
They both knew what she meant. Shang Zhitao felt nothing, but Luan Nian felt as if he’d been struck with a hammer.
Harsh.
With no one else around, there was no need to pretend politeness. Shang Zhitao said nothing and started driving.
Luan Nian wanted to nap in the car, but Shang Zhitao was playing loud music—”If the east doesn’t shine, the west will!” and “Oh, what fate!” The sound of suona horns made his head throb. Frowning, he looked at Shang Zhitao and, after an hour of driving, finally spoke: “Is this what your taste in music is like?”
“Ethnic is universal,” Shang Zhitao shouted back before focusing on driving again.
She had pulled an all-nighter the previous day and would’ve fallen asleep if she hadn’t listened to such energetic songs. Even so, she felt a bit drowsy, her foot drifting slightly on the accelerator. Hearing Luan Nian ask, “How are you driving?” she pulled over onto the emergency lane.
The snow was falling heavily now, and traffic congestion was inevitable. Turning to Luan Nian, she said, “Can you drive for a bit? I stayed up too late last night and can’t keep going.”
“Get out.”
Both got out of the car, their bodies brushing past each other in the wind and snow, switching places. Once in the passenger seat, Shang Zhitao couldn’t keep her eyes open and fell asleep against the seat. Luan Nian finally turned off the noisy music and focused on driving.
Three hours passed, and progress was slow. Traffic gradually came to a standstill. Someone tried to cut in, but Luan Nian refused to let them. When half the car’s front end squeezed in, Luan Nian gently tapped the accelerator, lightly bumping into the other car—just enough to scratch both vehicles without causing any major damage. Shang Zhitao woke up in shock, saw the collision, and quickly bundled up in her down jacket before getting out of the car.
Luan Nian also exited the car. The other driver, a large man, asked him: “What kind of driving is that?”
“Is cutting in supposed to be justified?” Luan Nian was always confrontational—if you didn’t speak properly, fine by him; he never did either. Turning to Shang Zhitao, he snapped: “Get back in the car!”
Shang Zhitao was freezing. Glaring at him, she suppressed her anger and got back in. Her brand-new car—she now wanted to kill him.
Outside, Luan Nian was talking to the other driver. He glared, took out his phone to take photos, and even threatened to call the police, only to be stopped by the other man, who seemed visibly guilty. They exchanged WeChat info, and the man transferred money to settle privately. Shang Zhitao guessed Luan Nian must have caught the man red-handed—otherwise, he wouldn’t have settled so easily.
Back in the car, Luan Nian closed the door and immediately heard Shang Zhitao angrily say: “How do you drive? What’s wrong with letting him cut in?”
“I just got this car last week!”
“You owe me compensation! Why did he transfer money to you when it was my car that got hit?”
She was seething, firing off complaints like a machine gun. After listening to her rant for a while, Luan Nian interrupted when she paused to drink water: “You’ve never crashed into my car, right?”
Shang Zhitao fell silent, guiltily leaning back in her seat. Luan Nian glanced at her: “How should I pay you?”
“Forget it. Or transfer it to my bank account.” Shang Zhitao took out her phone and sent him a text with her bank account details.
Looking out the window, she pretended not to understand Luan Nian’s implication. She wasn’t a 22-year-old girl anymore—adding his contact to receive money, then falling step by step into his trap. Back then, he had meticulously planned every move, and though it seemed like she was the one taking initiative, she had unknowingly walked into his snare. Old fox.
Neither spoke. When they stopped at a rest area, Luan Nian made a report: “Yes, a cloned license plate vehicle.” He then provided detailed information about the car’s direction and location, uploaded the photos to a platform, and logged the complaint. Shang Zhitao wasn’t surprised by his actions—he was the type to hold grudges. She gave him a disdainful look and quietly sipped warm water. When the water ran out, Fu Dong called: “Boss, we’ve arrived. The hotel is being difficult—they want to raise the price?”
“They’re demanding a last-minute price increase after working with us so many times?”
“Yes. They say it’s peak season.”
“Nonsense.”
“Should I have my brother-in-law make a call?” Fu Dong suggested.
Upon hearing “brother-in-law,” Luan Nian paused mid-text.
Shang Zhitao called Xing Yi: “The hotel is bullying us. Are you going to handle it?”
Xing Yi’s laughter came through the car’s navigation system: “No need to get upset over such a small matter. I’ll make a call.”
“Okay. But what if they go back on their word again?”
“They won’t dare. I’ve got your back—don’t worry.”
“Alright. Bye.”
After hanging up, the car fell into an unusual silence.
Luan Nian had thought about how someone like Shang Zhitao, with her personality, could probably make friends anywhere—men or women—and that men would naturally be drawn to her. He imagined she’d likely have a relationship or two. He had considered it all. But it still bothered him.
They didn’t speak again until they reached their destination.
Upon arrival, Luan Nian got out of the car, picked up the room key, and silently checked in.
Lumi was there, going over the next day’s meeting arrangements with Fu Dong. Seeing Luan Nian’s expression, she asked Shang Zhitao: “What happened? Did you upset Luke?”
Shang Zhitao shrugged: “I don’t know. I didn’t do anything.”
Before introducing potential boyfriends to Shang Zhitao, family and friends would ask her: “What kind of person do you like?”
After careful consideration, Shang Zhitao informed all the well-meaning matchmakers: “I want someone with a good temper, who knows how to talk, and who will spoil me.”
“What about height, looks, income?”
“Nothing else matters.”
Her family and friends remembered her requirements and introduced her to men who were all smooth talkers. No matter what kind of person they were, their words were always polished.
Da Zhai couldn’t understand and once asked her: “Your requirements aren’t very specific. Some men may speak sweetly but act dishonorably. Why do you have such a strange requirement about communication?”
“Mom, you don’t know. Sometimes words are like knives. They can stab deep into your heart.”
“Oh. Then I don’t understand. Your dad has always spoken kindly to me.”
Meanwhile, Lumi held up the schedule and asked Shang Zhitao: “Am I seeing things? Are YOU the trilingual host?”
“What’s wrong? Hiring one from the market is too expensive. I’ll do it. Saves us some money.”
Over the years of running her business, Shang Zhitao had learned to save wherever possible. When the company had to front costs, it was often substantial sums; sometimes, even small events costing a few thousand yuan added up. She calculated everything meticulously.
By her thirties, she seemed to have gained some clarity. She remained kind to everyone, and people often said: “President Shang is truly dignified.”
Fu Dong, who was used to Shang Zhitao’s gentle demeanor, secretly whispered to his colleagues:
“I don’t know why, but Boss is really harsh with President Luan.”
“Boss never treats anyone harshly.”
“I’m not lying.”
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