Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
Luan Nian tried to understand Shang Zhitao’s joy, but in truth, he didn’t see why passing probation was worth celebrating. His first twenty-eight years had been smooth sailing, so he couldn’t grasp the overwhelming sense of satisfaction swelling within her.
“Give me your wallet,” Luan Nian said, extending his hand toward Shang Zhitao.
“Why?”
“I’m afraid you’ll get too drunk to pay the bill.”
… Shang Zhitao obediently handed over her wallet. What could be said about it? It featured an ink painting, and upon closer inspection, there were two dogs in the artwork—a strange mishmash of images. Luan Nian frowned slightly: her taste in aesthetics left much to be desired.
“Do you have enough cash?” Luan Nian asked again.
“No.”
“Which card should I use?”
Shang Zhitao stood up, took back her wallet, and handed him a card. “This one.” She decided to go all out—just this once.
“The PIN?”
“062400.” The numbers 0624 were Xin Zhaozhou’s birthday. Couples often used each other’s birthdays as special passwords, and though they’d broken up, she hadn’t bothered to change it.
“Got it. Drink up.”
Shang Zhitao was in high spirits and downed two more small cups of sake, but that was the limit of her tolerance. Her alcohol tolerance wasn’t great, and she started feeling dizzy. She shook her head, saying she wouldn’t drink anymore—yet ended up taking another sip anyway.
Luan Nian paid her no mind, focusing on enjoying the foie gras and sashimi. It had been a while since he’d eaten Japanese food, and now that he did, he found the flavors quite satisfying. His appetite grew. Across from him, the young woman’s flushed face made him feel amused again by her silly charm.
Luan Nian, the cunning strategist, was slowly weaving a net. After repeatedly entertaining thoughts about Shang Zhitao, he made a decision—he wanted to do something with her. But he needed the right timing. He wanted to satisfy their mutual needs without getting entangled or responsible for each other. Such a relationship would be ideal.
“Did you volunteer to go to the mountains?” he suddenly asked.
Shang Zhitao had drunk plenty of water by then, and her dizziness subsided somewhat. “I did. I’ve never done anything like this before, so I wanted to give it a try. I want to learn many things and become really incredible—like Kitty.” The alcohol loosened her tongue, and she began speaking more freely.
“Why do you want to be like Kitty?”
“Kitty is amazing. She knows everything, can do anything, and does everything beautifully.”
Luan Nian glanced at her but didn’t respond.
“Instead of blindly comparing yourself, why not find someone powerful to lean on?” Luan Nian’s words carried both truth and deception.
“I don’t know anyone here. Whose leg am I supposed to cling to?”
“Tracy.”
“I barely know Tracy.”
“Then you could try clinging to me.”
Hmm? Shang Zhitao suddenly recalled the jumble of thoughts that had crossed her mind the other night—the idea that Luan Nian might try to take advantage of her. Placing her hands protectively over her chest, she looked wary. “I won’t sell myself.”
Luan Nian rarely lost his composure, but this time, Shang Zhitao had hit a nerve. He nearly choked on his drink. “Are you feeling okay?”
“You’re telling me to cling to your leg? I’m just a newcomer here, unfamiliar with everyone, broke, and average in ability. What exactly do you think I’d rely on to win your favor?”
Luan Nian tapped her lightly with his finger. “Move your hands?”
“Huh?”
“Move them.”
Shang Zhitao moved her hands away, eyeing Luan Nian suspiciously. She watched as he scrutinized her chest, then smirked. “Your worries are completely unnecessary.” He laughed. “Shang Zhitao, do you really think I want to sleep with you? Am I short on women?”
Shang Zhitao blushed furiously.
“Stop dreaming!” Luan Nian knocked her head playfully across the table. “When the weather clears up this weekend, dry out the water in your brain.”
Dry.
Aren’t I good enough? Shang Zhitao looked down at her clothes, feeling wronged and pitiful.
The meal stretched on for quite some time. When Shang Zhitao finally stood up, she swayed slightly. Luan Nian signaled the server to bring her water, then took her wallet to settle the bill.
Luan Nian, true to form, didn’t hesitate to fleece Shang Zhitao. After paying, he returned her wallet with a thank-you. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. It’s what I should do.”
“Congratulations on being officially hired.” Luan Nian spoke these words earnestly. He now agreed with Tracy—companies needed diverse talent structures. A team shouldn’t consist solely of elites; it also needed people like her, amusingly naive big fools.
They left the restaurant, and instead of calling for a driver, Luan Nian stood beside Shang Zhitao at the roadside, waiting for a taxi. She wobbled unsteadily, her hair tousled by the wind, her clear eyes brimming with laughter. With sincerity, she repeated to him, “I won’t sell myself.”
It was as if she were trying to reassure herself. Luan Nian noticed her unease and suddenly understood: Shang Zhitao liked him.
====
Shang Zhitao and Lumi set off together. On the plane, Lumi said to Shang Zhitao, “People call the marketing department folks ‘big shots,’ but when you arrive, you’ll realize they’re actually little busybodies—thirsty one moment, hungry the next, complaining about bugs in the hotel. Back home, I live like royalty, yet here I am serving these nitpicky nuisances.”
Shang Zhitao laughed uncontrollably at Lumi’s comments.
Lumi was a princess at heart. For her, work was merely a way to pass the time. She feared no one, nor did she have any ambition. As she put it, “What’s so great about being a manager? Their salary isn’t even as high as the rent I collect!” She was also a force to be reckoned with at the company, and colleagues gave her space.
After landing, they met up with the filming crew and boarded a minibus. A group of over ten people embarked on a six-hour journey into a small mountain town. The town, stretching only a kilometer from east to west, had houses scattered unevenly. In 2010, such towns still existed, and Shang Zhitao found it fascinating.
Kitty wandered around with her camera, claiming, “This is a perfect opportunity to experience life.”
Lumi sneered, whispering to Shang Zhitao, “Experience life? Does she really think she’s a fairy descending from heaven?”
Shang Zhitao quickly covered Lumi’s mouth, sensing trouble brewing. She felt certain that Lumi and Kitty would clash sooner or later. Lumi disliked Kitty, finding her overly pretentious.
After Kitty left, the ad director handed Lumi a list of filming locations, politely asking them to help coordinate logistics.
“Not finalized yet?” Lumi asked.
“We took a rough look earlier.”
Lumi grabbed the stack of papers and pulled Shang Zhitao along. “See? This is where it starts.”
The distances in the town seemed short, but walking proved exhausting. Shang Zhitao stumbled a few steps in, nearly tripping over a tree root that extended underground and reemerged above ground.
The two of them trudged through uneven terrain, inspecting one location after another. By the time they finished, night had fully fallen.
As temperatures dropped in the mountains, they shivered their way back to their lodgings, where others sat bundled up outside, drinking and chatting. Kitty waved at Shang Zhitao. “Flora, you’re back? Marketing work is truly tough—I’d never manage it.”
Lumi scoffed. “Look at Kitty wandering around. Seems like you’re physically fit. Tomorrow, when we’re free, come with us to the filming spot behind the mountain.”
Kitty, unwilling to provoke Lumi, smiled awkwardly and turned to talk to someone else.
Kitty didn’t like Shang Zhitao. She believed Shang Zhitao’s entry into Lingmei was pure luck. Seeing her resume, Kitty doubted her own abilities, feeling uneasy being lumped in the same batch as Shang Zhitao. Moreover, Kitty despised Shang Zhitao’s personality—always smiling, agreeing with everyone, relying on hard work to curry favor. To Kitty, that wasn’t admirable.
Shang Zhitao was unaware of Kitty’s feelings. She only knew that Kitty didn’t particularly like her, evident from how differently Kitty spoke to her compared to others. But it didn’t matter; Shang Zhitao didn’t care.
She and Lumi slurped down some hot instant noodles before crawling into bed. The mountain air was freezing, and without hot water, neither wanted to wash their faces. They brushed their teeth half-heartedly.
Thinking the day was over as they settled in, silence enveloped the room—until they heard rustling near the corner. Shang Zhitao sat up and turned on the light, spotting a rat in the corner. The creature, as large as a foot, scurried wildly when the light hit it.
Terrified of rats since childhood, Shang Zhitao screamed and jumped off the bed. Realizing the rat was on the floor, she leapt back onto the bed. Lumi, equally scared, shrieked louder and jumped onto Shang Zhitao’s bed, hugging her tightly.
Their screams woke everyone. Male colleagues knocked on the door, and Shang Zhitao and Lumi rushed to open it, fleeing outside.
“What happened?”
“A huge rat! This big!” Lumi gestured wildly. “Didn’t they say they’d put out rat poison before we arrived?”
The innkeeper appeared, embarrassed. “We ran out of rat poison. Two rooms didn’t get treated… Sorry, sorry. I’ll buy more tomorrow in town.”
Shang Zhitao wiped away her tears. “It’s fine, it’s fine.”
She was genuinely terrified, her hands and feet icy cold. She knew this trip to the mountains would be challenging, but she hadn’t expected to lose to a rat on the very first night. Thankfully, a kind male colleague swapped rooms with them.
Lying on the hard wooden bed, listening to noises outside, Shang Zhitao felt deeply apologetic toward Lumi. “Lumi, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t insisted on coming here, you wouldn’t have suffered with me.”
“Don’t say useless things. I came to experience life.” Lumi comforted her. “Now I appreciate everyday comforts. When I get back, I’ll kowtow twice to my parents.”
“Let me treat you to a meal when we return?”
“Forget the meal. Just cover two of my shifts for me! You know I hate overtime…”
“One month of shifts, then.”
Google Sites
Report abuse