HYAT - 6

Shen Qianzhan was outmaneuvered and felt a rush of anger, leading to a restless night.

The next morning, she picked an unused makeup set from her unpacked suitcase and spent a full hour doing her makeup in front of the mirror.

Concealer, brightener, highlighter—no step was skipped, resulting in a flawless, “airbrushed” no-makeup look.

She arrived at the company before lunchtime, bought a black coffee from the downstairs café, and swiped her card to enter the building.

Qianzhan Film is a very humane company, and most employees receive holiday subsidies for business trips. However, this benefit was merely theoretical for Shen Qianzhan; everyone else got it.

The moment Shen Qianzhan stepped out of the elevator, her assistant, Qiao Xin, was already waiting at the door with a schedule.

Besides a meeting today, she also had a script tryout scheduled with a screenwriter at 3 PM.

Shen Qianzhan nodded slightly after hearing the work arrangements for the next two days, then turned to scan the office area: “Where’s Su Zan?”

Qiao Xin was startled, remembering Su Zan’s frantic escape after receiving a warning from the front desk. She looked down, betraying him: “He heard you were coming and hid upstairs.”

Shen Qianzhan followed the assistant’s subtle upward gesture with her eyes, glancing at the ceiling. She said expressionlessly: “If he doesn’t want me to tear down the ceiling, tell him to get down here now.”

Qiao Xin acknowledged with a “yes,” watched Shen Qianzhan enter her office, then pulled out her phone to message Su Zan: “Little Mr. Su, how did you offend Sister Zhan again?”

Su Zan’s reply was quick: “She’s menopausal, irritable and easily angered. What’s it to me?”

Qiao Xin bit her finger while holding her phone, sighing helplessly: When immortals fight, mortals suffer. She thought for a moment and tactfully conveyed the instruction: “Sister Zhan is eager to see you. Why don’t you bring Zhou Yan and hurry over?”

Su Zan: “...”

He felt that just Zhou Yan alone might... not be enough.

________________________________________

Despite the fuss, Su Zan dared not defy Shen Qianzhan’s orders.

He dawdled for half an hour, then, holding a stack of freshly printed Baidu百科 (Baidu Encyclopedia) pages, he walked into Shen Qianzhan’s office with a heavy heart, as if attending a funeral.

She was eating a salad, reluctantly, with an expression of utter disdain.

Su Zan’s little heart in his chest sank further, feeling even heavier.

He shuffled forward, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

Shen Qianzhan looked at him presenting the documents like offerings, raised an eyebrow, and teased: “What, is my office so hot you don’t want to stay for a moment?”

Su Zan didn’t know whether to laugh or not, finally forcing out a smile more awkward than crying: “I looked all night yesterday, and forget about anyone knowing Mr. Ji, no one around me even knew Buzhong Sui had an executive director for China.” He whined: “Sister Zhan, didn’t we stumble upon some supernatural event?”

Shen Qianzhan glanced at the thick stack of documents by her hand: “If no such person exists, how did you compile such a thick book?”

“I printed out Buzhong Sui’s brand history, related products, and backstory for you,” Su Zan said, flipping to the fifty-seventh page, which he had dog-eared, like presenting a treasure: “Look here, this is Master Ji’s exclusive interview.”

Shen Qianzhan dropped her fork, elegantly dabbed her lips with a tissue, and lowered her head to read.

Master Ji’s exclusive interviews were rare, and the one Su Zan compiled was published in a fashion magazine on the day of the ‘Suimu Series’ watch launch.

Though called an exclusive interview, this section of text occupied only a pitiful small corner amidst pages of watch illustrations and articles. It discussed the design inspiration and concept of the ‘Suimu Series’ watches, and the reporter’s question about Master Ji’s views on the public’s regret that his watchmaking and repair skills had no successor.

Ji Qingzhen’s answer was vague; he neither mentioned Ji Qinghe nor answered directly, only expressing his hope that all traditional craftsmanship would continue to be passed down, and that the ‘Suimu Series’ under Buzhong Sui would maintain his personal style, continuously promoting the exquisiteness and wisdom of traditional craftsmanship.

Shen Qianzhan scanned it several times, then looked up: “That’s it?”

Su Zan gave an “ah”: “That’s it.”

Shen Qianzhan’s voice instantly rose several degrees: “That’s all?”

Su Zan: “...That’s all.”

Shen Qianzhan pinched her brow, a headache forming: “I asked you to find information about Ji Qinghe, not to show me the good virtues of the Chinese nation.”

She spread her hands, settling for less: “Did you at least find his contact information?”

Su Zan squirmed, then after a long pause, finally blurted out: “Does Buzhong Sui’s official work email count...?”

Shen Qianzhan pointed to the door: “Get out.”

________________________________________

With Su Zan unreliable, Shen Qianzhan had no choice but to roll up her sleeves and do it herself.

Ji Qinghe’s personal information was extremely well-protected. Neither Buzhong Sui’s official website nor Baidu Baike’s introduction yielded any results for him.

The only search result related to Ji Qinghe was a romance novel.

Shen Qianzhan glanced at it, then expressionlessly closed her laptop.

Getting Ji Qinghe’s contact information was actually quite simple: ask Jiang Yecheng.

But that would inevitably lead to interrogation.

Ai Yi was right; Jiang Yecheng’s desire to cooperate with Ji Qinghe was urgent and enthusiastic. He wouldn’t understand why Shen Qianzhan was unwilling to work with Buzhong Sui; he would only constantly pressure her to achieve his goal.

It hadn’t reached a dead end yet, she felt... she could still struggle a bit more.

________________________________________

After the meeting, and synchronizing Qianzhan Film’s recent project progress, Shen Qianzhan immediately met with the screenwriter for the script tryout.

The screenwriter, Lin Qiao, was twenty-six, a Beijing native. She owned a courtyard house in the First Ring Road, was financially secure, and lived a comfortable life.

A few years ago, when Shen Qianzhan first joined Qianzhan Film, her first project was a script originally written by Lin Qiao. Later, as Qianzhan Film developed, Lin Qiao, with their existing cooperative foundation, practically became Qianzhan’s exclusive screenwriter. Lin Qiao’s name could be seen in nine out of ten projects produced by Shen Qianzhan.

The tribute drama was too big and tough a piece of cake. Shen Qianzhan hadn’t initially considered Lin Qiao, intending to hire an experienced senior screenwriter to form a writing team. However, Lin Qiao insisted on self-recommending and fighting for the opportunity. Shen Qianzhan figured that the writing team shouldn’t be entirely composed of uncooperative screenwriters, so she gave her a trial opportunity.

The young woman clearly knew she couldn’t be the lead screenwriter. Before leaving, she told Shen Qianzhan this: “Sister Zhan, I’m free these days. If you’re holding a script planning meeting, you can call me. I might be able to give you some fresh ideas, and I’ll also get to learn from the senior screenwriters. If you’re worried, I can sign a non-disclosure agreement; I guarantee my lips will be sealed.”

Shen Qianzhan was looking at her script outline. Hearing this, she didn’t even raise her head: “Didn’t your WeChat Moments say you were planning a trip to Japan soon?”

“Oh, that.” Lin Qiao said truthfully: “Going to Japan isn’t as important as this opportunity.”

“Oh, right.” She remembered something and sat back down, “Didn’t you ask me where I get my research material from last time? Let me recommend an app to you. It’s very niche and uncommon, but it’s especially useful for wordsmiths like us who really need others’ life experiences and work expertise.”

She sat back down and, like presenting a treasure, showed her an app called “Hangjia” (Expert).

“This one, you can schedule one-on-one consultations with experts in any profession or field.”

Shen Qianzhan looked at it with some curiosity, her face showing doubt.

Lin Qiao, seeing her disbelief, pulled out her past consultation orders: “Look, for the last script about a legal ‘demon queen,’ I found this strategist. And the time before that, a psychologist, an HR from a financial listed company, a senior market manager for big data products from JD and Taobao...”

“Su Zan also registered an account, and I even screenshotted it.” She switched to her photo album and showed her the picture.

Shen Qianzhan almost spat blood at this glance.

Su Zan — film industry agent, veteran rich second-generation. Expertise: how to build and manage internet celebrities, how to squander family fortunes, the daily life of a rich second-generation, how to become a professional rich second-generation who knows how to spend money.

Lin Qiao rarely found someone she could complain to. She blinked, gesturing for Shen Qianzhan to look at the consultation data below: “A 600-yuan consultation, and over twenty people have actually booked one.”

Shen Qianzhan smiled, a polite yet awkward smile: “Su Zan isn’t very bright. Stay away from him in the future.”

After Lin Qiao left, Shen Qianzhan registered a guest account.

“Hangjia” featured various professions; even a niche profession like clock restorer had a sparse three listings.

Shen Qianzhan filtered by region. Only one founder of a “Time Hall” was based in Beijing, certified as the deputy director of the Beijing Clock Collection Association.

She cautiously referred to the reviews, hesitated repeatedly, and then booked a one-on-one phone consultation.

Thinking the other party’s response wouldn’t be immediate, she put the matter aside for now, preparing to leave work.

Unexpectedly.

As Shen Qianzhan was driving her secondhand BMW onto the elevated highway, the call from Hangjia came through.

She paid the fee, connected to her car’s Bluetooth, and answered.

The other party’s voice sounded roughly her age, clear and bright. He first introduced himself, then asked Shen Qianzhan what kind of clock-related issues she needed to consult about.

Shen Qianzhan said: “Clock restoration.”

The other party hesitated for a moment and asked: “Do you have a broken clock and need to understand the repair process, or do you want me to provide advice or precautions regarding clock restoration?”

Shen Qianzhan’s mind went blank for a moment.

Her goal was simple: to find an expert in this field who could provide professional help and guidance for the project. When the other party asked for specific questions, she suddenly couldn’t think of anything to ask.

As she hesitated, the other party urged, sounding a bit pained: “Thirty minutes for four hundred yuan, you’re wasting not just time but also money...”

Shen Qianzhan, accustomed to splurging, felt no distress at all. Stuck in rush hour traffic, she said unhurriedly: “Then tell me about the common problems with clocks.”

The other party, convinced she was there to waste time and money, sighed and replied: “Well, there are many reasons: water damage, dead batteries, or weak movement, where the balance wheel stops immediately. With mechanical things, the biggest problem is usually that time stops. It’s not always clear why it malfunctions; you need to disassemble the watch and inspect the parts to determine how to fix it.”

He grumbled, “I’m not an expert in restoration. If you ask me how to appraise clocks or which watches have collectible value, then these thirty minutes might be worth the price.”

Shen Qianzhan didn’t respond.

She was currently deeply reflecting on why she was spending so much time on something so clearly inefficient, yielding neither work returns nor inspiration.

Indeed, a waste of time and money.

She was losing interest, mentally drafting a closing remark to hang up when the other party suddenly said: “Wait a moment.”

Stuck in traffic, unable to move, Shen Qianzhan didn’t care whether she waited or not.

She heard the shuffling sound of slippers dragging across the floor through the car’s speakers. After a wooden door was pushed open, the phone was handed to another person: “My customer wants to talk about clock restoration. Can you help me out?”

In the brief silence, Shen Qianzhan didn’t know if it was an intuition or a woman’s sixth sense. Her heart suddenly jumped, as if being squeezed in someone’s palm.

It wasn’t until the young man’s voice on the other end, lazy, impatient, and devoid of emotion, finally spoke that Shen Qianzhan’s heart slowly descended, only to fall into another bottomless abyss.

Ji Qinghe asked: “What do you want to talk about?”

He didn’t seem to be asking anyone in particular, and his impatience was obvious: “If you don’t speak, I’m hanging up.”

Truly, life is full of unexpected encounters.

Shen Qianzhan’s internal state was incredibly complex and convoluted at this moment. To put it metaphorically, it was the feeling of countless “grass-mud horses” having a party—not just grass, but “mud horses.”

Just as she was tacitly waiting for the other party to hang up, Ji Qinghe paused, and after three seconds of silence, asked: “Shen Qianzhan?”

What?!

She didn’t speak, yet he could tell she was Shen Qianzhan?

As if knowing what she was thinking at that moment, he chuckled softly from the other end and said: “Your breathing sounds a bit familiar.”