An Yao's intention to "stay invisible" was obvious—she peeked out from under her fluffy hat.
There were four or five people around Yan Muzhou, one of whom was his assistant, and the rest were either other executives of the group or important clients worthy of his personal reception.
After all, the man had only just been discharged from the hospital this morning.
Sheng Xintong had already called out, so continuing to "stay invisible" seemed rather impolite.
An Yao inwardly prayed that Yan Muzhou would pretend not to know her. She pulled her hat down a little and gave him a very polite yet distant nod.
Fortunately, Yan Muzhou's gaze shifted away from her face, moving to Sheng Xintong beside her: "You are?"
Sheng Xintong had also anticipated that a busy man like him would forget many faces—with all the social engagements he had, he surely wouldn't remember hers. She generously stated her name, then introduced herself: "My uncle is Sheng Qihe. Last year, he brought me to the Yeelen charity gala and a forum where I saw you."
Yan Muzhou clearly still didn't recall, but at least he remembered her uncle's name—the two companies had collaborated before.
He gave a slight nod and offered a perfunctory greeting: "Has President Sheng been in good health lately?"
Sheng Xintong smiled and said, "Quite well, just some minor issues."
Yan Muzhou seemed disinclined to continue the conversation, wrapping it up in just a couple of exchanges: "That's good to hear. It's been a while since I've seen him. I still have matters to attend to—please make yourselves at home, and give my regards to President Sheng."
Sheng Xintong immediately replied, "Of course, of course. Please go ahead."
Yan Muzhou and the others headed downstairs first, disappearing around the corner of the corridor.
Sheng Xintong pulled An Yao to stay where they were, and after a long moment, let out a deep sigh of relief.
"Oh my god, what a coincidence. So nervous, so nervous—my heart almost jumped out of my chest just now."
An Yao looked at her: "Nervous about what? Weren't you just saying you wanted more contact with him?"
Sheng Xintong: "But his presence is really overwhelming, and he lives up to his surname—he looks so stern. I have absolutely no experience dealing with someone like him. Actually, the two times I met him before, I only said a quick hello; it was mostly my uncle who talked with him."
An Yao glanced at the time: "Let's head downstairs too. I should get back to work soon."
Sheng Xintong confirmed that Yan Muzhou's group had already left, and as they walked down the stairs together, she kept chattering on: "I can't believe we actually ran into him. This is the first time I've seen President Yan since I started my internship."
"He's exactly as I remembered—gives off a really hard-to-get-along-with vibe."
An Yao belatedly found her footing again, trying to adopt the perspective of a complete outsider as she spoke: "Right? So maybe you should pick a different target?"
After all, Yan Muzhou was inherently an almost impossible conquest.
Sheng Xintong shook her head: "That's what makes it challenging. And the more that type of person is, the bigger the contrast once you get closer—so much more satisfying. Even if I fail, it's only to be expected, so there's no real sense of defeat."
An Yao: "…"
Maybe it was because she had no dating experience that she couldn't understand why so many people were fascinated by the word "contrast."
And from what she knew of Yan Muzhou, even after getting familiar with him, one wouldn't experience any particular contrast.
Then again, she hadn't really had anything happen with him anyway.
She, like Sheng Xintong, didn't know and had never seen what he was like in a relationship.
Sheng Xintong finally declared, "Looks like I need to come to work more often. The chances of running into him are slim, but it's like buying a lottery ticket—if you buy one, there's a chance; if you don't, you're guaranteed to lose."
An Yao nodded, agreeing with the decision. "Then you should come more often from now on."
After that day, Sheng Xintong indeed started showing up at the Publicity Department more frequently.
She came three or four days a week.
At first, she just sat at her desk scrolling through her phone, but perhaps realizing that sitting still in a chair was basically the same as not coming at all, she took the initiative to ask An Yao to assign her some work.
And so, as an intern, An Yao gained a "little helper."
Regardless of the helper's motives, at least she wasn't as busy as before and could delegate some of the simple, repetitive tasks.
By mid-month, at the department's weekly internal meeting, Department Head Qiao issued an instruction for them to hurry up and prepare a performance piece for the annual party.
Once the task was assigned, after the meeting, it was the team leaders' turn to discuss the execution plan.
Sister Zhang complained, "Wasn't the speed-painting or calligraphy performance from before just fine? It was classy and showcased our department's strengths and characteristics. The admin folks are just too fussy, insisting on a change. It's like they can't let the annual party pass without making someone look foolish."
It was only through the weekly meeting that An Yao learned their department's performance segment at the annual party had always been to pick someone from the art team to go on stage and paint or write calligraphy live.
Though it was limited in entertainment value, it was indeed professionally relevant.
Team Leader Song from the art team said, "The admin department felt that too many previous performances were too perfunctory, so they banned the calligraphy and painting performances and poetry recitations."
"But colleagues from other departments have also told me that every year when our department's segment comes on, everyone starts dozing off."
Sister Zhang: "But no one here is good at singing, dancing, skits, or crosstalk. We're getting older too; we can't learn these new tricks. Why not let the young ones handle it? They pick things up quickly."
The team leaders were discussing this in the tea area, near An Yao's desk.
The moment she heard this, her expression stiffened.
Then Team Leader Song, also middle-aged, chimed in, "I think so too. Let them do it. No one wants to watch us old folks sing and dance anyway."
And so, the department's interns and the newly hired young employees were quickly conscripted and called together for a meeting.
As An Yao listened to them brainstorm, she was already considering the feasibility of resigning before the annual party to "escape the ordeal."
But a rough calculation told her she'd need to stay at least until after New Year's for her internship to reach the three-month minimum she'd agreed upon with HR.
An Yao could only steel herself and keep listening to everyone's suggestions.
Sheng Xintong, who was usually not enthusiastic about work, was surprisingly vocal, but her two suggestions—a French musical and a Korean girl group dance—were both rejected for being too difficult.
In the end, they settled on performing the penguin dance.
Compared to the various skits, melodramas, magic shows, and crosstalk acts, An Yao also felt the penguin dance was the best option and voted in favor.
It was a somewhat clever idea—everyone would go on stage in penguin mascot costumes and dance, with moves that basically involved swaying left and right and clapping after a little hop. The difficulty was very low, but thanks to the added charm of the costumes, it wasn't lacking in visual appeal.
Before New Year's Eve, another important task for An Yao was submitting the opening report for her thesis.
She finished it right at the deadline and sent it to her advisor, who gave the feedback: the topic was fairly novel, but quite challenging, and she was advised to do more preparation before writing the main body.
It was also at this time that An Yao remembered Cheng Shijia's earlier promise to introduce her to some useful contacts.
He hadn't been in touch for a while.
However, the poster designer Meng Shaoyun she had mentioned back then really wasn't easy to get a hold of.
She hesitated for two days about whether to send a message to check on the situation, and then she received a call from Cheng Shijia.
"I've managed to set it up. This Meng guy is really difficult! I almost gave up and looked for someone else, but luckily I found an old friend who has some connection with him and helped put in a good word."
An Yao said in surprise, "You really got him? That's great."
Cheng Shijia's main reason for inviting him was to have him give a speech at the opening of his new art gallery. Although the "deal" had already been settled, she wanted to express her gratitude within her means.
An Yao took the initiative to ask, "Is there anything you need help with? I can come over early."
Cheng Shijia said, "No worries, I've got people handling everything. Just come straight to the opening ceremony, and I'll have them save you a seat."
An Yao: "Thank you so much."
Cheng Shijia laughed, "What's there to thank? It's all part of what I promised."
"I'm also arranging the dinner for the evening, but Meng said he doesn't want too many people involved—he finds it troublesome. So it'll just be you and me, three people in total."
"Okay."
But An Yao was a bit worried: "I'm not particularly good at socializing either. I'll have to rely on you a lot…"
She recalled that last year, when she went with her advisor to have dinner with a journal editor, she had no idea what to say the whole time and couldn't find the right moment for small talk. She ended up just pouring tea for the editor and her advisor like a mute.
Later, every time she thought back on it, she felt very embarrassed.
She had thought that Cheng Shijia was a master at handling social situations and that a small dinner would be a piece of cake for him. But unexpectedly, he also said with some difficulty, "I'm not good at that either. If it were anything else, fine, but I really can't handle these cultured types."
"Huh?"
An Yao was taken aback. "Don't joke with me. I'm being serious."
Cheng Shijia: "I'm serious too. Otherwise, I would have gotten him long ago and wouldn't have had to go through all the trouble of asking friends. They say entertainment and art are one family, but I see art is art, and entertainment is entertainment. I called him twice, and we just didn't click."
"…"
An Yao gritted her teeth: "It's fine, I'll just try harder myself."
Cheng Shijia laughed: "How do you even try harder? Forget it, you're a pretty introverted kid. Ask Yan Muzhou—if he can spare the time, having him there would definitely be reliable."
An Yao: "…Asking him, isn't that overkill?"
Cheng Shijia said, "What's the big deal? It's just a meal. And that Meng guy is really impressive—if you get to know him this time, maybe he can help Yan Muzhou out in the future too."
An Yao thought it over and was somewhat persuaded.
After hanging up, she sent Yan Muzhou a message, explaining the whole situation, the dinner details, and Meng Shaoyun's introduction all at once.
It wasn't until the next morning that she received a reply.
Yan Muzhou said one word, "Fine," which counted as his agreement.
An Yao immediately felt less nervous.
She realized that Yan Muzhou often played this role—he was like a calming pill that put everyone at ease.
It wasn't just her who thought this way; from Elder Yan, Cheng Shijia, and the others around him, she had more or less heard such praise for him.
As someone about to step out of the ivory tower into the real world, An Yao couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration.
The opening ceremony and dinner were both on Sunday. An Yao went to the city's art district early in the morning, where Cheng Shijia's new gallery was located.
Yan Muzhou probably had other arrangements during the day and didn't come, only saying he would attend the dinner in the evening.
Although Cheng Shijia said she didn't need to help, after arriving early, she found that there were all sorts of small tasks short on hands, so An Yao voluntarily stepped in, running around helping them set up.
After working hard for most of the day, everything was finally ready.
During the speech segment of the opening ceremony, An Yao saw Meng Shaoyun from below the stage.
His attire, styling, and overall look all fit the public's stereotypical impression of an artist—he was very thin, had long hair, and his outfit was fashionable and meticulous, clearly showing a strong personality.
An Yao didn't gain much from his speech, after all, it was prepared for the gallery's opening, with much of the content written in advance by Cheng Shijia's people, leaving little room for improvisation.
At the end, he touched on some of his personal views on art poster creation, but only briefly, without going into depth.
The dinner was held nearby, at a restaurant Cheng Shijia had invested in.
The three of them went together, and Yan Muzhou arrived around the same time.
In the private room, although Meng Shaoyun was the true guest of honor, Yan Muzhou and Yaowei Group were well-known, and facing such a potential giant patron, Meng Shaoyun took the initiative to shake hands.
"President Yan, I've heard so much about you. I didn't expect you to be able to come."
Yan Muzhou shook his hand and said calmly in an even tone, "It's an honor to meet Teacher Meng. An Yao has told me about you—you've made great achievements in poster design, and she's always wanted to learn more from you."
An Yao clutched at her sleeve.
The way he said it made it sound like he was her parent.
Just then, Yan Muzhou looked at her.
An Yao immediately caught on and delivered the lines she had prepared in advance: "Hello, Teacher Meng. I'm also a design major. I've truly admired your work and creativity for a long time. I'm really lucky to have this opportunity to learn from you in person."
Meng Shaoyun smiled faintly. "You flatter me."
After the exchange of pleasantries, the four of them finally took their seats.
Meng Shaoyun probably gathered from Yan Muzhou's earlier words that the focus of today wasn't him or Cheng Shijia, but An Yao, this female student.
During the meal, he took the initiative to ask about An Yao's school and year, saying, "Senior year, so you'll graduate next summer. How nostalgic—my college graduation was almost ten years ago."
An Yao said, "Time really flies. I feel like I just started college, and before I even realized it, I'm already preparing my thesis and graduation project."
Meng Shaoyun smiled. "Do you have a rough direction yet?"
An Yao: "I'm planning to write about the language of sculpture in 3
The use and innovation of 3D rendering in posters. The school's advisor said it might be a bit difficult to write about, but since you're an expert in this area, I wanted to ask for your guidance."
Meng Shaoyun's most famous award-winning works were all posters made with 3D-to-2D rendering—first using 3D modeling to create a dimensional effect, then rendering it into a 2D visual. This is also a commonly used technique in film production.
Meng Shaoyun asked, "Sculpture? Are you interested in that area? It's quite a stretch from graphic design."
An Yao said a little sheepishly, "Actually, I'm more interested in sculpture. It's what I studied since I was young, but fine arts is too hard to find a job in after graduation, so I took the design track instead."
Meng Shaoyun smiled approvingly. "Actually, my undergraduate major was sculpture too. It really is hard to make a living in. Since you already have a foundation in it, this topic should be a good angle for you to approach."
An Yao wore an expression of rapt attention, asking him to elaborate.
For the rest of the meal, the two of them were mostly exchanging professional discussions.
Although Yan Muzhou had been called in to help, he mostly served as moral support. Aside from the few pleasantries at the beginning, he didn't say much else.
When An Yao talked about her two areas of interest—innovation in sculptural language and the revitalization of traditional sculpting techniques—she was completely different from her usual self. She could speak at length with ease, and when she shared her insights, her eyes seemed to shine with passionate light.
Yan Muzhou kept drinking tea, occasionally glancing at her.
Later, when Meng Shaoyun focused on explaining poster concepts to her, she even pulled a small notebook out of her bag and took notes as she listened.
About two hours later, as darkness began to fall outside, the pleasant dinner came to an end.
Meng Shaoyun looked like he still wanted more. "Unfortunately, I have to catch a flight back to Nancheng soon. I didn't expect students from Nancheng Academy of Fine Arts to have such creative ideas. But once you're back at school, there will be plenty more opportunities. Let's add each other on WeChat first?"
An Yao took out her phone and proactively scanned the QR code, asking, "Teacher Meng is also from Nancheng? I remember your profile said Tong'an."
Meng Shaoyun smiled. "I've settled in Nancheng now, and I'm planning to move my studio there too. Okay, accepted—'Yao ah Yao.'"
Beside them, Cheng Shijia looked at Yan Muzhou and secretly gave him a thumbs up.
Throughout the entire business negotiation, he hadn't managed to add this designer surnamed Meng on WeChat.
They left the private room and went downstairs, where another round of extremely formal pleasantries was exchanged among the four.
In the end, Meng Shaoyun was picked up by his driver, and Cheng Shijia went off to meet his girlfriend for a date, leaving An Yao to follow Yan Muzhou's car and head back to the Economic Development Zone together.
The two sat in the back seat. An Yao glanced at him and said apologetically, "I didn't expect I could talk that much… I wasted three hours of your evening for nothing."
Yan Muzhou smiled faintly. "It wasn't a waste."
After a brief pause, he said, "I've known you for so long, but the total amount of words I've heard you say probably doesn't add up to what you said tonight."
"…"
An Yao rubbed her nose. "Well, it just happened to be something I'm interested in. Besides, you don't like people who talk too much anyway."
Yan Muzhou corrected her calmly, "It's not that I don't like people who talk a lot. I just don't enjoy listening to people who keep saying things with no substance."
An Yao felt a bit parched—perhaps from talking too much—so she took a bottle of mineral water from the center console and drank half of it.
"Honestly, for you, everything we talked about tonight was just fluff. You don't need to understand it, and you're not interested anyway."
Yan Muzhou realized the same issue the moment he finished speaking.
But during the several hours of dinner, he hadn't actually found it annoying to listen.
He did occasionally zone out when Meng Shaoyun was speaking, but when it was An Yao's turn, it seemed like he took in everything she said—he even followed her train of thought on the art theory questions she raised.
An Yao was quiet for a moment, then said sincerely, "But having you there was the biggest help to me. Otherwise, I'd have been constantly worried about saying something wrong and not being able to smooth it over."
Yan Muzhou raised an eyebrow slightly. "I had no idea I had that ability."
An Yao raised her brow in return. "Of course you do."
She thought for a moment—from high school until now, it seemed like Yan Muzhou had been the one helping her most of the time, and she'd never given anything back.
In the past, it was because she cared too much about emotional gains and losses. Now that she thought about it, she felt a twinge of guilt.
She'd never wanted to owe anyone favors, yet she'd racked up a mountain of them with Yan Muzhou.
An Yao pressed her lips together, hesitating and a little awkward as she asked, "Is there anything… I can help you with?"
Yan Muzhou glanced at her. "What, trying to pay me back?"