An Yao acknowledged with a quick reply, ignoring the probing looks from those around her, and steeled herself to turn and step into the elevator.
Once inside, the others around her resumed the composed, unruffled expressions of adults, no longer glancing her way.
An Yao returned to the Publicity Department and rushed straight to the print room to photocopy the documents, delivering the files to the Legal Department at exactly three o'clock sharp, then reported to Sister Zhang.
A few minutes later, Sister Zhang replied with a thumbs-up emoji: [Nice, I thought you'd be late—I was just about to give the Legal Department a heads-up. Xiao An, you're very capable. Thumbs up: /Thumbs up:/]
An Yao had been running up and down so frantically that she'd gotten a stitch in her side. She sat back down at her desk and downed a large glass of water before she could catch her breath.
The original contract was still in her hands and needed to be returned by the end of the day.
Conveniently, she also needed to go upstairs to see Yan Muzhou anyway.
She wondered what he could possibly want with her.
When An Yao once again took the access card to the east-side elevator lobby, as she waited for the elevator, another intern from her group, Sheng Xintong, strolled past at a leisurely pace.
Seeing her, Sheng Xintong stopped in her tracks, glanced toward the ceiling, and asked, "Hey, why are you taking the elevator from this side?"
An Yao paused for a few seconds.
She wasn't the type to warm up to people easily. Even in a work setting, unless she'd already met and exchanged words with a colleague, she generally wouldn't initiate conversation.
In the month-plus she'd been at the group, today was the first time she'd seen Sheng Xintong, and the two had never spoken.
In An Yao's eyes, that still made them strangers.
An Yao looked at her and responded politely, "I need to deliver a document upstairs."
Their department was far from this elevator, so it wasn't usual to come this way.
"Upstairs?"
Sheng Xintong's eyes seemed to light up, and for once, she proactively offered to help: "Is it the President's Office? How about I deliver it for you? I don't come here often, but you seem pretty busy with work today."
An Yao was silent for a moment, thinking to herself—she knows I'm busy with work, yet she's been sitting at her desk scrolling through short videos for nearly the entire day.
But after all, they'd entered the company through different channels, and everyone has their own fate. Even though they were in the same department, same group, and both interns, An Yao couldn't exactly call her out on it.
An Yao shook her head. "It's fine, no need. I just went up to pick up the file, and I promised them upstairs I'd return it in person."
In truth, the promise was a pretext—she still needed to see Yan Muzhou.
Besides, she didn't quite trust Sheng Xintong. If the original contract got lost or delivered to the wrong place, she'd be the one taking the fall.
Sheng Xintong let out an "Oh," and said, "Alright then."
She paused, then asked, "By the way, when you went upstairs just now, did you see President Yan there?"
An Yao answered truthfully, "He was there a moment ago."
"He actually is?"
Sheng Xintong asked, "Does he look busy?"
An Yao thought back. "He should be pretty busy—everyone upstairs looks especially busy."
According to Xiao Zhou, it seemed they were preparing for some summit event.
Sheng Xintong sighed softly. "Well, that makes sense."
As she spoke, the elevator arrived. An Yao said goodbye to Sheng Xintong and stepped in first.
Sheng Xintong turned away with what seemed like a regretful look.
An Yao didn't dwell on why Sheng Xintong, this connection-hired slacker who couldn't care less about anything, was asking her these questions. Before she knew it, she was already upstairs.
She walked toward Yan Muzhou's office and spotted from a distance that his frosted glass door was closed.
An Yao was almost at the door, still wondering whether she should find someone to open it for her or just knock.
…Did this door even have a doorbell or anything?
Fortunately, Assistant Fang spotted her from not too far away and hurried over in a few steps, asking gently, "Are you here to see President Yan?"
When they had run into each other in the elevator earlier, Assistant Fang hadn't been around, but before National Day, when she had come over to have a meal with Yan Xuexin, Assistant Fang had seen her before.
An Yao nodded. "Could you please help me open the door?"
Assistant Fang responded with a faint smile and went to call the internal line to inform Yan Muzhou.
As expected of the group chairman's office—if she had followed the regular procedure, she definitely wouldn't have gotten in.
Before long, Assistant Fang received approval and opened the door for her.
Yan Muzhou seemed to be busy as well. He was the only one in the office, sitting in front of his computer reviewing some documents.
An Yao turned around and closed the door behind her, then asked him, "What's the matter… that you had to call me all the way up to your office to discuss?"
Yan Muzhou shifted his gaze away from the computer screen. "It's not that I had to call you up—it's just that you were already downstairs, so it's more convenient to talk face to face directly."
An Yao was silent for a moment. Recalling the awkward scene at the elevator entrance just now, she still spoke up to him: "In the future, when we're at the company, could you…"
She paused. "Could you not address me directly?"
Yan Muzhou looked at her. "Then how should I address you? Book an appointment three days in advance, or send a written request through Yaowei's messaging software first?"
"…"
An Yao touched her nose. "What I mean is, try to pretend I don't know you. Otherwise, it's so awkward if your other employees see it."
"Besides, I applied and interviewed on my own. I'm not here through connections anyway."
From her experience in the Publicity Department over this period, the senior colleagues' attitude toward Sheng Xintong, who was there through connections, was rather cold. Even if things appeared fine on the surface, they wouldn't have much interaction with her.
It was roughly like they treated her as a revered figure to be kept at a distance.
An Yao didn't want that kind of treatment, especially since quite a few of the senior colleagues in the department currently had a good impression of her, thinking she was capable, steady, and hardworking.
Wherever she worked in the future, these senior colleagues were the real professional network—unlike someone at the very top like Yan Muzhou.
Yan Muzhou was silent for a moment, neither agreeing nor refusing. Finally, he said ambiguously, "You don't need to care too much about what others think."
An Yao said, "Easy for you to say. You're the boss, so of course you don't need to care."
She stopped in front of his desk, not intending to discuss this issue further with him.
Anyway, she had made her point clear.
An Yao continued, "Let's talk about the main matter first."
Yan Muzhou took out a booklet from beside him—something with a color-printed cover—and pushed it in front of her, speaking slowly, "There's an international industry exchange summit next weekend, hosted by Yaowei. On the closing night of the summit, there's a charity auction arranged."
An Yao took the booklet and flipped through a couple of pages, and she roughly knew why Yan Muzhou had called her over.
What he handed her was a catalog of auction items, several of which were jade carvings. One of them was a piece created by her grandfather An Mingshan during his lifetime.
However, the seller was a foreigner.
An Yao looked at the low starting bid noted beside it and couldn't help frowning.
More than a decade ago, An Mingshan's works were so sought after that getting even one was extremely difficult.
An Mingshan was a renowned jade carving master in the country. Back in the day, after he was discharged from the military, he initially opened a small shop handcrafting jade artifacts. Later, recommended by an old superior he'd known during his service, he went on to create sculptures and ornamental pieces for many famous buildings and scenic spots across the country.
Eventually, in his capacity as a traditional Chinese artisan, he was invited to participate in the filming of a documentary series on the theme of jade.
In an era when media formats were still quite limited, as the documentary aired, An Mingshan's reputation soared.
But as an artist wholly devoted to his craft, his attitude toward his children and younger generations was essentially hands-off, with little in the way of discipline.
From An Yao's parents' generation down to her own peers, growing up in an environment of ample wealth and carefree living, nearly all of them had become pleasure-seeking hedonists with no real skills or ambition.
In his later years, An Mingshan's remaining jade carvings were distributed to his children and grandchildren as inheritance, but from what An Yao knew, they'd gone out and sold them off for cash shortly after receiving them.
Still, looking at the catalog in her hands, An Yao's expression was somewhat troubled. "This… I can't really go, can I?"
At the beginning of the catalog was a list of attendees. Yan Muzhou's name appeared on the first page alongside representatives from numerous well-known domestic and international enterprises, and the other invited guests were all either wealthy or influential.
Not only that, even if An Yao did go, she couldn't afford to buy anything.
Her little nest egg could barely cover the starting bid for An Mingshan's jade carving. If anyone so much as raised the price once, she'd be left watching from the sidelines.
"If you want to go, you can come with me."
Yan Muzhou said evenly, "The summit and the events afterward are all hosted by Yaowei. Although Grandfather isn't attending, he did instruct me to bid on two items in his name. I don't have much knowledge of the antique calligraphy, paintings, and traditional crafts he likes. You could come along and help me pick."
After a moment of silence, An Yao nodded in agreement.
"Alright, I'll go too."
Her phone rang—it was Yara calling, probably with some urgent job for her again.
An Yao answered, said "I'll be down now," and made to leave.
At the door, she paused.
Yan Muzhou was probably well aware of the An family's situation.
If he'd only asked her along to pick out auction items for the old man, his subordinates were full of talent—plenty of people could do that job.
Even though it was a trivial favor for him, and killed two birds with one stone, he'd still been considerate of her pride and hadn't said it outright.
But when she'd walked into his office, what she'd said was something along the lines of wanting to draw a clear line between them.
An Yao was a cold-natured person, but that didn't mean she could accept others' kindness without any psychological burden, as if it were her due.
Though, when that kindness came from Yan Muzhou, it was a bit complicated for her.
An Yao didn't want to owe him either. She stood awkwardly at the door for a long while, mulling over what she could possibly do to repay him within her means.
Finally, she turned back, picked up the auction catalog, and looked at him. "Can I have a copy of this? I'll do my homework on it properly and make sure I pick things with room for appreciation—guaranteed profit, no loss."
"Mm."
Yan Muzhou had already returned to work mode. At her words, he glanced up, looked at her, and said lightly, "If it profits, it's yours."
An Yao couldn't help asking, "…And if it loses?"
Yan Muzhou: "Deducted from your internship salary?"
"……"
"Unscrupulous capitalist."
The guilt that had just welled up in An Yao instantly halved. She muttered something under her breath and turned to leave the room.
Behind the desk, Yan Muzhou withdrew his gaze, returning it to the computer screen, and gave an almost imperceptible tug at the corner of his lips.
The auction was scheduled for Sunday, arranged alongside the networking reception following the summit's conclusion.
As early as Saturday morning, An Yao had already seen news about the international FMCG industry summit in the headlines.
It was a link forwarded by a colleague from her department in their group chat.
She tapped in and scrolled through it a couple of times. Yan Muzhou himself still hadn't shown his face—the one speaking on behalf of Yaowei and posing for photos was a group vice president ranked lower than him.
As for Sunday's auction, An Yao didn't need to ask to know there would definitely be a dress code.
Among the clothes she'd brought to Beiyang, aside from one somewhat formal blazer, everything else was casual student-style—hoodies, t-shirts, pants, and the like. In short, nothing that fit the reception's style.
For this reason, An Yao had gone ahead and bought a slip dress from a nearby mall. Though it was budget-friendly, at least it looked somewhat more mature and elegant.
For this type of auction, the social and charitable publicity aspects outweighed the actual consumption.
The auction guests were also the summit attendees—everyone was there to network and socialize, casually cultivating connections. No one would care about the value of the charity items up for bidding.
She was probably the only one who had seriously done her homework in advance, studying each item one by one against the catalog list.
Although An Yao had chosen visual design as her major out of career prospects, she had grown up immersed in An Mingshan's influence and still had some ability to appreciate and appraise traditional crafts and calligraphy paintings.
Around the time the auction was about to begin, Yan Muzhou's assistant picked her up and escorted her to the entrance of the banquet hall.
The reception portion wasn't over yet. Inside the vast hall, glasses clinked and clashed, formally dressed male and female guests each held champagne flutes while making small talk.
Assistant Fang flashed his work credentials and walked her straight in, delivering her to Yan Muzhou's side.
He stood beneath a light, dressed in a suit. Aside from the understated dark pattern on his tie, he was essentially all black, but with the natural advantages of his looks and height, combined with his aura, the whole presence of him seemed to radiate.
A few people stood beside Yan Muzhou, discussing some investment matters with him, faces wearing fawning smiles.
Seeing An Yao delivered over by his assistant, one of them smiled and looked at Yan Muzhou, saying, "First time seeing President Yan bring a female companion to a reception."
Though it was just a simple remark, the tone carried a hint of insinuation.
Yan Muzhou didn't seem particularly close to these people, and he didn't intend to elaborate much on An Yao's identity, only clarifying simply, "Not the kind of female companion you're thinking of."
An Yao pressed her lips together, unsure of who these people were, and responded with a slight smile and a nod.
"I see."
The man added, "I've always heard that President Yan is single, fully devoted to his career—no wonder Yaowei has been developing so impressively these years."
A few more exchanges followed, and then the group gradually took their leave.
"We won't disturb you any further, President Yan. The auction is about to start, so we'll head over there first."
Assistant Fang had already left after escorting her in, and once these people departed, the nearby area was left with only Yan Muzhou and An Yao.
Yan Muzhou turned his gaze sideways toward her, his eyes lingering for two extra seconds.
Her dress was a slip style, though it reached her ankles, the fabric was very thin, and a large expanse of fair skin was exposed across her shoulders and back.
An Yao also knew that her appearance today was rather unusual—she had not only worn a long dress and styled her hair, but also put on makeup.
Whether in high school or at work now, she mostly dressed for comfort above all else.
An Yao tucked a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. "What, does this outfit look that strange on me?"
Although she rarely dressed up or wore makeup, she was an art major after all—her sense of aesthetics should still be on point.
Yan Muzhou turned his head back. "It's not strange. It just doesn't match the season."
"…"
An Yao shot him a glance. "Beauty comes with a chill, alright? Everyone dresses like this, and it's not cold indoors anyway."
The auction was about to begin, and the attendees were gradually making their way toward the central venue.
On her way over, An Yao had originally planned to take another look at how the other girls in the hall were dressed, to prove her point just now.
But as she looked, she noticed that everyone present who had a female companion seemed to be walking arm in arm, like couples or spouses.
An Yao glanced at Yan Muzhou, then—thinking herself subtle—took two small steps away from him, putting some distance between them.
She didn't want to be misunderstood again.
After walking a little further, Yan Muzhou turned his head again, his gaze landing on the girl who was now more than an arm's length away from him.
He took half a step closer, and An Yao retreated again, like a magnet with the same pole repelling him.
Yan Muzhou stopped in his tracks.
So An Yao stopped too, turning her head to look at him with a questioning gaze.
Yan Muzhou: "What, are we pretending not to know each other even outside the company?"