Chapter 37: Long-Term, Secret, No Emotions…

Alex assigned the small project to Shang Zhitao. None of her colleagues in the department wanted to take on such a minor research project because it was difficult to achieve notable results. But Shang Zhitao was willing—it would be her first time as a project manager.

She felt a little excited but also somewhat nervous. After receiving the initial project materials, she sat at her desk without moving. Every year, industry research was a mandatory project for the company, used to support different departments in making advertising decisions for clients across various industries.

Though it was a small project, it was incredibly complex. It required gathering requirements from relevant departments, analyzing past input-output data, selecting research companies, setting project milestones, and more. She had assisted Lumi on several projects before and read related books. Now, it felt like all her preparation was finally being put to the test.

By the time Shang Zhitao finished reviewing all the materials, it was already late. When she looked up, everyone around her had left, except for Luan Nian’s office, which was still lit. She hesitated for a moment, then took out her phone and typed: “I independently took on a project today.” Her finger hovered over the send button for a long time, but she eventually deleted it. She wasn’t sure if they were close enough to share daily updates—Luan Nian didn’t care about others’ lives anyway. So she deleted it, but still felt the urge to tell him. Though it was a small matter, it represented progress for her.

“I independently took on a project today,” she sent him.

Luan Nian glanced at his phone and set it aside without replying. Shang Zhitao continued packing her bag while glancing at her phone, but Luan Nian never responded. Sighing, she slung her bag over her shoulder and left the company.

Her luck was good today—she managed to hail a cab right after stepping out. Plugging in her earphones, she listened to music, her eyes glued to her phone. Just as she was about to enter her home, she saw Luan Nian’s reply: “Do your best. Keep it up.” His tone couldn’t have been more formal.

“Thank you.”

Shang Zhitao’s project overwhelmed her. The first step of the requirements research phase got stuck. Specifically, with the creative center.

Kitty hadn’t provided the scope of the creative center’s requirements. Shang Zhitao had reminded her twice, but Kitty claimed she was too busy and hadn’t started yet. Shang Zhitao was puzzled—why would Kitty be so uncooperative when this was a service-based project meant to support business operations?

Lumi suggested escalating the issue and having their boss push the task forward, but Shang Zhitao thought it was unnecessary. It hadn’t reached that point yet. Besides, Kitty already disliked her; escalating the issue would make things worse later.

Deep down, Shang Zhitao was afraid of conflict. After much deliberation, she finally couldn’t hold back and messaged Luan Nian on Wednesday evening: “Luke, sorry to bother you. I’m managing a project independently, but I’ve hit a snag during the requirements research phase. Can you advise me on how to get everyone to cooperate with the project progress?” She didn’t want to tattle on anyone—she just wanted to solve the problem.

Luan Nian replied quickly this time. He said, “Hold a non-targeted project communication meeting where all parties can report their progress. Then send out an email to standardize the execution responsibilities of each party.”

A moment later, he sent another message: “Don’t be afraid of conflict.”

When Shang Zhitao saw him telling her not to fear conflict, she realized Luan Nian truly understood her. Even though he had never paid attention to her, he knew what kind of person she was and why she hesitated.

“Okay, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. How’s the cheerleading practice for the basketball friendly going?”

“We’ll have rehearsals on Thursday and Friday.”

“Good. Thanks for your hard work.” After a pause, Luan Nian added, “Being an independent project manager is a good opportunity, but the key to any project is managing people. Once you handle the people, the progress will follow.”

He gave her time to think independently.

After replying, Luan Nian packed up and left the office. He had dinner plans with Jiang Lan. Jiang Lan was the vice-chair of the industry association, and the board had asked him to make another effort to become an advisor to the domestic industry association. Luan Nian suggested choosing someone else, but the board insisted, saying Jiang Lan only liked him.

Luan Nian drove to a Japanese restaurant. Jiang Lan hadn’t arrived yet, so he waited quietly, not rushing her. After about forty minutes, he called her. She apologized profusely: “Sorry, sorry—I’m stuck in traffic.”

“It’s fine. Shall we reschedule?”

“No, let’s do it today. Since I’m late, I’ll treat you. Please bear with me.”

“Okay.”

Luan Nian hung up, knowing Jiang Lan was playing games. Used to being on the client side, she carried an air of arrogance. Luan Nian understood. He casually pulled out his laptop to work. When Jiang Lan arrived, he stood to greet her: “You must be tired.”

“Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“It’s fine. Give me ten minutes—I just received an urgent email that needs handling.” There was no email, of course—he was simply getting even. Opening a random email, he typed something casually, frowning as if deeply focused. Jiang Lan sat beside him and waited. After twenty minutes, she finally smiled: “You’re petty.”

Pretending not to understand, Luan Nian closed his laptop: “Shall we eat?”

“Let me formally apologize. Waiting is unpleasant.”

“Are you hungry?” Luan Nian ignored her jab and signaled the waiter: “Please start serving.”

“Shall we have some wine?” Jiang Lan asked.

“I’m driving.”

“What about your driver?”

Luan Nian smiled: “We can have a little wine.”

Luan Nian and Jiang Lan shared a light drink. As usual, they didn’t discuss work. Jiang Lan talked about her trip to Hokkaido after her last breakup: “At the time, I felt love was really exhausting. From now on, I’d rather stay single.”

“Learn from experience?”

“Don’t you feel the same?”

“No.”

Jiang Lan laughed. Her eyes squinted into a thin line when she smiled, exuding a hint of charm. She was the kind of woman who knew exactly where her appeal lay and how to display it: “But I heard your last relationship gave you quite a headache.”

“To be honest, it didn’t. Why trouble oneself unnecessarily?”

That was Luan Nian—he cherished his freedom now. Jiang Lan rested her chin on her hand and admired him, thinking how pleasant-looking this man was. She drank very little wine and ate even less, telling Luan Nian: “I need to be more disciplined. Maintaining my figure is so hard.”

“Understood.” Luan Nian nodded.

During this meal, Jiang Lan opened up about her past. It seemed she hadn’t confided in anyone for a long time—once the floodgates opened, they wouldn’t close. She even spoke about her first night, in a rainy motel outside Las Vegas.

Luan Nian listened quietly, interjecting only occasionally.

His patient listening pleased Jiang Lan. Despite appearing surrounded by people, she despised vulgar men. She preferred men with a bit of backbone, and she enjoyed dismantling that backbone piece by piece until they merged as one. She loved this game of hunting, and Luan Nian was the finest prey.

After their light drinks, they stepped out into the intoxicating night breeze. Jiang Lan was slightly tipsy, her steps faltering. Luan Nian reached out to steady her arm and escorted her to the car. He asked, “Where should I drop you off?”

“My place.” She gave an address, and Liu Wu nodded: “Got it.”

Jiang Lan gazed at Luan Nian’s face, flickering in the dim light—what a handsome face. Her palm rested on his knee, her head leaning closer, whispering in his ear: “Would you like to come up to my place?”

“I don’t do one-night stands.”

“Long-term… secret… no emotions…”

“I don’t have that habit.” After saying this, Luan Nian suddenly thought of Shang Zhitao asking him where to keep her contact lens case, bathrobe, pajamas, etc. Men really could lie without blinking. What did he mean, he didn’t have that habit? Wasn’t he cultivating it right now?

Sighing, Luan Nian collected himself: “I thought our relationship was supposed to be better than this.”

“For example?” Jiang Lan leaned back in her seat, her head resting against the headrest, her shirt slightly open, revealing a tantalizing view. Most men would have surrendered under such circumstances—but not Luan Nian.

Luan Nian smiled at her without giving her an answer.

Turning to look out the window, he thought to himself, next time he’d better assign someone else to deal with Jiang Lan—it was exhausting. After dropping her off, he finally returned home, showered, and prepared to sleep. Remembering Shang Zhitao’s troubles, he called her: “Is the issue resolved?”

Shang Zhitao was climbing the stairs, slightly out of breath: “Not fully. I’ve sent an email inviting everyone to a project progress meeting tomorrow.”

“I didn’t receive your email.”

“… I didn’t send it to you.”

“Why not? Are you holding a project progress meeting without inviting the bosses? What are you relying on to pressure others? Your own ferocity? Even the stray cats downstairs are scarier than you.”

“I…”

“What time tomorrow?”

“Three in the afternoon.”

“Got it.” After speaking, Luan Nian heard the sound of Shang Zhitao unlocking her door and asked, “Home already?”

Shang Zhitao lowered her voice, whispering into the phone: “Yes.” She didn’t want to disturb her roommate. Zhang Lei had been working overtime and traveling frequently, Sun Yuanzhu was immersed in his autonomous vehicle project day and night, and Sun Yu had been roped into researching matchmaking websites. Everyone was busy and needed rest.

She quietly closed the door, tiptoed to her bedroom, shut the door, and then said: “Luke, I’m home. Are you still awake this late?”

“I just got home.”

“Oh.”

“Sleep well.”

“Good night.”

Luan Nian hung up, thinking how utterly idle he must be to care about an ordinary employee’s project progress late at night. Shang Zhitao, however, was a grateful person. After hanging up, she sent him a text: “Luke, thank you so much for guiding me on my project.”

Luan Nian didn’t know how to reply, just as he hadn’t known how to respond when she suddenly told him she’d taken on a project independently. He tossed his phone aside, closed his eyes, and prepared to sleep. A moment later, he picked up his phone again: “It’s nothing. Don’t mention it. Do your best.”

“I’ll work hard.”

I know.

Luan Nian had never seen anyone work as hard as Shang Zhitao. It was just a job, but she worked as if she had no safety net or confidence. That day, Tracy had discussed the company’s hiring strategy for the coming year with him, mentioning they wanted to recruit one or two more people like Shang Zhitao. Her exact words were: “Did you see? Shang Zhitao is an experiment in personnel management. This experiment tells us that with a bit of talent and sufficient effort, one can compensate for the disparities caused by educational stratification.”

Tracy was a little proud—Shang Zhitao was her most successful creation. That day, Luan Nian didn’t argue with her.