The news of Sun Wanqing’s suspension had circulated within the company for a full week.
There were all sorts of versions of the story.
Some said she had embezzled millions, others claimed she had taken kickbacks from suppliers, and still others alleged she had partnered with her ex-husband to set up a shell company to defraud public funds.
There were also those who said she had merely made procedural errors and that the situation wasn’t as serious as it seemed.
Chu Yiran didn’t participate in any of these discussions.
Whenever someone brought up the topic in the break room, she would quietly walk away with her cup in hand.
After Sun Wanqing’s suspension, the administrative department actually ran more smoothly than before.
On his first day taking over daily operations, Zhang Mingyuan did two things:
First, he thoroughly reviewed the workflow for the summit preparations, splitting the approval process that Sun Wanqing had previously handled alone into a two-tier system.
Second, he established a temporary liaison system within the administrative department, designating a specific person to handle all communications with external suppliers.
The designated liaison was Chu Yiran.
Zhang Mingyuan’s reasoning was simple: “She has the most complete records, and the suppliers are already used to dealing with her. Changing personnel would only reduce efficiency.”
Chu Yiran had no room to refuse and could only brace herself and accept the responsibility.
Her workload nearly doubled overnight.
Previously, she had only been responsible for organizing materials and delivering documents. Now, she had to directly communicate with suppliers about proposals, coordinate progress, and confirm payment schedules.
For three consecutive days, she worked overtime past nine in the evening.
Lin Yuan brought her a cafeteria meal every day and left it on the corner of her desk. Chewing on the cold food, Chu Yiran calculated her salary for the month.
With a base salary of twelve thousand, plus overtime pay calculated hourly, she could earn an extra fifteen hundred or so.
To pay off fourteen million, she would only need to work for about seven hundred years.
On Wednesday at noon, Zhao Ling ran into her in the cafeteria.
“You don’t look well.”
Zhao Ling sat down across from her. “Too much overtime?”
“It’s fine, just a bit more work.”
“Have you heard about President Sun’s situation?”
“I have,” Chu Yiran said, taking a bite of her steamed bun. “It has nothing to do with me.”
“It really doesn’t,” Zhao Ling replied, taking a sip of soup. “But there is something that does concern you.”
Chu Yiran stopped chewing.
“What is it?”
“The audit report specifically mentioned one point: the quality of document archiving in the administrative department has significantly improved during recent external audits, directly enhancing audit efficiency.”
“The report used the exact phrase ‘directly enhanced.’”
Chu Yiran chewed on her steamed bun, her expression turning slightly complicated.
“That’s talking about me, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Zhao Ling said, looking at her. “And Shen Yu has seen this report.”
Chu Yiran suddenly found it hard to swallow her steamed bun.
“Don’t be nervous, this is a good thing,” Zhao Ling reassured her. “Your work has caught the attention of the big boss, which means you’re not invisible in the company.”
Chu Yiran thought to herself, I’d rather be invisible.
Invisible people don’t have to go to the sixty-second floor, don’t have to speak face-to-face with Shen Yu, and don’t have to worry about someone detecting something unusual in the tone of their voice.
“Sister Zhao, let me ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“After President Sun’s suspension, the deputy director position in the administrative department is vacant. How will the higher-ups handle it?”
Zhao Ling thought for a moment. “Either promote from within or hire externally.”
“But President Sun’s case is still under investigation, so there probably won’t be an official appointment anytime soon.”
“Zhang Mingyuan from the Integrated Management Department is only acting as interim supervisor. He won’t be staying on the 35th floor long-term.”
Chu Yiran nodded and didn’t ask further.
Returning to her workstation in the afternoon, she handled contract confirmation issues with two suppliers and replied to seven emails.
At four o’clock, everything was normal.
By 4:15, things were no longer normal.
A new email notification popped up in the lower right corner of her computer screen. The sender was Wang Yan.
When Chu Yiran saw that name, her temples throbbed twice.
“Ms. Chu Yiran, due to recent personnel adjustments in the Administration Department, President Shen wishes to conduct brief discussions with certain key personnel.”
“Please report to the CEO’s office on the 62nd floor tomorrow at 9 AM.”
Chu Yiran stared at this email for a long time.
The phrase “certain key personnel” gave her some slight comfort.
She wasn’t the only one being summoned. Most likely several people would take turns having interviews to discuss the Administration Department’s operations after Sun Wanqing’s departure.
But the problem was, no matter how many people were called up together, she would still ultimately have to go to that office and speak to that person.
This would be the third time.
She had managed to get through the previous two encounters, but the words Shen Yu had spoken last time still lingered in her mind.
“Your voice sounds a bit like a friend of mine.”
Chu Yiran closed her laptop and went to the pantry to get a glass of water.
Standing by the window while drinking, she saw the sunset’s afterglow reflected on the glass curtain wall of the office building opposite. Golden-red light spread across the entire surface.
She mentally prepared herself for the third time.
Use written communication whenever possible. Say as little as necessary.
If asked any questions requiring lengthy responses, answer with the shortest sentences possible.
When she returned to her workstation to pack up before leaving work, Lin Yuan walked over from the other end and handed her a piece of paper.
“List of people for tomorrow’s interviews. Zhang Mingyuan just sent it.”
Chu Yiran took it and saw there were three names on the list.
Administrative Specialist Lin Yuan, Administrative Affairs Specialist Chu Yiran, and another name she didn’t recognize—Logistics Supervisor Tao Lei.
Three people. Not too bad.
“What time are we going tomorrow?” Lin Yuan asked.
“The email says nine.”
“Will all three of us go together or separately?”
“Don’t know.”
Lin Yuan adjusted his glasses and sighed. “I’ve worked in the Administration Department for over two years and have never been called up to the 62nd floor.”
“Now that President Sun is gone, I have to go up for an audience. What kind of situation is this?”
Chu Yiran thought to herself: I’ve been here less than three weeks and have already been up there twice. You’re behind me in line.
But she didn’t say it out loud.
Returning to her apartment that evening, she showered, changed into pajamas, and lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
Her phone rested beside her pillow. The screen lit up briefly then went dark again.
It was a message from S.
“Tomorrow.”
Chu Yiran tapped to open it. Just that single word.
The pressure carried by those two characters—”tomorrow”—felt heavier than any lengthy explanation.
Shen Yu was pushing.
She had promised to meet soon two weeks ago. Those two weeks were now up.
Chu Yiran closed her eyes, placing her left hand on her forehead.
Tomorrow morning at nine, she had to face Shen Yu on the 62nd floor.
Tomorrow evening, she also had to give an answer to Shen Yu’s other identity.