The third month after Gu Ziyao took over the company was when the real nightmare began.
The three-month probation period hung over her head like a blade, ready to fall at any moment.
The board members had given her a chance on the surface, but behind the scenes, they were constantly setting up obstacles—important client information was “accidentally” withheld from her, key contract terms were “forgotten” to be mentioned, and even the financial department’s reports were delayed until the last day.
She knew what these people were waiting for.
They were waiting for her to make a mistake, to buckle under the pressure, to step down voluntarily, so they could rightfully carve up the company.
But she refused to give in.
She started running the business herself.
Her first major client was Hengyuan Real Estate, a long-standing client of twenty years, contributing nearly fifteen percent of Gu Group’s annual revenue.
The sales director in charge of this client had resigned, taking the entire team with him, and even Hengyuan Real Estate’s point of contact had been replaced.
Gu Ziyao scheduled three meetings with Hengyuan Real Estate’s procurement director before he finally agreed to meet.
The location was the conference room at their company, and the time was two in the afternoon.
She arrived half an hour early, dressed in a proper black suit and skirt, her hair neatly tied up, with light makeup, looking sharp and professional. She brought a complete set of materials, including product manuals, quotations, past collaboration cases, and even a customized proposal tailored specifically for Hengyuan Real Estate.
The procurement director, surnamed Liu, was in his early forties, lean, wearing frameless glasses. His gaze always carried a scrutinizing tone, as if weighing the other person’s worth.
“Director Gu, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, extending his hand for a brief shake, his tone neither warm nor cold. “I’ve reviewed your company’s quotation—it’s eight percent higher than your competitors. Director Gu, how do you justify this price?”
Gu Ziyao took a deep breath and began her explanation.
She listed the product’s advantages one by one, presented past cases one after another, and flipped through the details of the customized proposal page by page for Director Liu.
She spoke earnestly, her pace neither too fast nor too slow, every piece of data memorized flawlessly.
After listening, Director Liu fell silent for a few seconds before asking a question that chilled her heart: “Director Gu, I heard you’ve only been in charge of the company for three months. What did you do before?”
“I previously worked in market planning.”
“Market planning?” Director Liu raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with undisguised disdain. “Then how can you guarantee your company’s delivery quality? You haven’t even sorted out your own team yet, have you?”
Gu Ziyao opened her mouth to say something, but Director Liu had already stood up.
“Here’s the deal, Director Gu. Lower your price by five points, and I’ll consider it. Otherwise, we’ll have to look elsewhere.”
Five points.
Lowering the price by five points would make this contract a loss.
But if she didn’t lower it, she wouldn’t even have a chance to negotiate.
Gu Ziyao gritted her teeth. “Director Liu, three points—that’s my bottom line.”
Director Liu glanced at her and smiled, a smile devoid of any warmth. “Director Gu, you’re still young. You have a lot to learn.”
He turned and left, leaving Gu Ziyao alone in the conference room.
She sat there, staring at the pile of materials on the table, suddenly feeling like a joke.
After a full week of preparation, countless rehearsals of data, and carefully chosen attire and makeup, none of it mattered in the eyes of the other party. They didn’t care how well she presented; what they cared about was whether she carried enough weight and whether her company had enough clout.
And right now, she clearly didn’t.
This was just the beginning.
Over the next week, she visited six clients in a row, and not a single one signed.
Some dismissed her as too young, saying she didn’t understand the industry;
Some dismissed her as a woman, saying women couldn’t handle big deals;
Some even said to her face, “Does your company have no one else? Sending a young girl to negotiate”;
And there were those who hinted at “having a private chat tonight,” which she coldly refused.
The worst was Mr. Zhang from Hongda Group.
That day’s dinner was held at a private club, decorated in opulent gold, with crystal chandeliers refracting blinding light. The air was thick with the mingling scents of expensive perfume and cigar smoke.
Mr. Zhang was in his fifties, with a beer belly and three gold rings on his fingers. When he smiled, he revealed a mouthful of yellow, smoke-stained teeth. He had invited six people, all of them his business partners. Together with Gu Ziyao, seven people sat around the massive round table.
The food hadn’t arrived yet, but the drinks were already served.
Maotai, Wuliangye, and several bottles of red wine Gu Ziyao couldn’t name were placed on the rotating tray. The bottles reflected the light, making her dizzy.
“Ms. Gu, come on, let’s start with one,” Mr. Zhang raised his glass and gestured toward her. “Today’s gathering, I’ve invited all old friends. Your presence is an honor. This one’s for you.”
Gu Ziyao picked up her glass and took a small sip.
“Hey, no, no,” Mr. Zhang shook his head. “Ms. Gu, are you looking down on me? I’ll finish mine, you finish yours.”
He tilted his head back and downed the entire glass of baijiu, then waved the empty glass at her, his eyes making it clear—it was her turn.
Gu Ziyao looked at the glass of baijiu, her stomach already cramping.
But she still picked it up and drank it all in one go.
The baijiu slid down her throat like a line of fire burning through her esophagus, so spicy it made her eyes water. But she held it in, set the empty glass down, and kept a smile on her face.
“Good! Ms. Gu is straightforward!” Mr. Zhang clapped. “Another one, this one’s from my brother to you.”
A man in his forties stood up beside him, holding his glass and smiling at her. “Ms. Gu, I’ve worked with Mr. Zhang for twenty years. If he says you’re good, you’re good. Here, I toast you.”
Another glass.
A third.
A fourth.
By the fifth glass, Gu Ziyao could barely stand. The lights in front of her began to blur, the voices around her grew muffled, and the alcohol in her stomach churned, rising toward her throat. She clenched her teeth, forcing down the nausea.
“Mr. Zhang, about the contract…” she began, her voice already unsteady.
“The contract is easy, easy,” Mr. Zhang waved his hand, smiling meaningfully. “Ms. Gu, look at how much you’ve drunk. I’ll have my driver take you back. We can talk about the contract another day.”
Another day.
It was always another day.
Gu Ziyao knew that if she didn’t finalize the contract today, this “another day” would never come.
She took a deep breath and picked up her glass. “Mr. Zhang, let me toast you one more time. After this glass, let’s sign the contract, alright?”
Mr. Zhang looked at her, the light in his eyes shifting from teasing to something indescribable—like admiration, or perhaps pity.
“President Gu, is it worth it, pushing yourself so hard?”
“Whether it’s worth it or not is for me to decide.” Gu Ziyao tilted her head back and drank the wine.
That night, the contract was signed.
But Gu Ziyao had to be carried out of the club.
When Qin Yining rushed over after receiving the call, she saw Gu Ziyao crouched on the steps at the club entrance, vomiting uncontrollably. Her suit jacket was nowhere to be found, her white shirt stained all over with wine, looking utterly disheveled.