If the résumé wasn’t fake, then he’d really struck gold.
It was worth mentioning that their factory didn’t do background checks at all.
During interviews, they only asked job-related questions. That was it.
For a position like Chu Jinhán’s, as long as his foreign languages were up to par, there was no need to investigate further. After all, small factories had a hard enough time hiring people as it was.
Back then, they’d only tested his English and Japanese—both passed without issue.
So President He dismissed everyone else and kept Chu Jinhán behind.
He stood up, plopped himself down beside Chu Jinhán, and flashed an ingratiating smile.
“Xiao Chu, did you really study abroad in the UK and France?”
Earlier, President He hadn’t taken it seriously at all. He’d assumed half the résumé was fabricated and only kept Chu Jinhán because his spoken foreign languages were smooth and fluent.
Chu Jinhán subtly shifted away, putting a bit of distance between them. “Yes.”
President He grinned, exposing a row of yellowed teeth. “Say a couple of sentences in German for me?”
Chu Jinhán paused for two seconds.
“Dein Mund sieht aus, als wurde man Kacke essen.”
President He obviously didn’t understand a word of it, but he was still stunned by the sudden burst of German.
He gave Chu Jinhán a thumbs-up. “Not bad, not bad. I knew I didn’t misjudge you, kid.”
Patting him on the shoulder, he asked curiously, “So tell me—how’d you end up at our little factory anyway?”
“Probably fate,” Chu Jinhán replied.
President He burst out laughing. “Good, good!”
“Xiao Chu, you’ll come with me to this expo. If we can successfully land clients this time, you’ll be in charge of the German market from now on. I’ll give you a base salary of five thousand—commission on top of that.”
Chu Jinhán felt a stir in his chest. He nodded. “Alright.”
Only then did the weight on President He’s heart finally lift—though not completely.
This was the National Garment Expo. Plenty of famous big-name factories would be there, far beyond what a small factory like theirs could compete with.
He was still a bit worried about whether Chu Jinhán could actually secure a few German clients.
As for other countries, they didn’t even dare hope. There was no way they could beat the big factories. Germany was their only sliver of a chance.
President He decided not to overthink it. He clapped Chu Jinhán on the shoulder again. “Come on, tonight’s on me. Big meal.”
“I’ll pass, President He,” Chu Jinhán said. “I still need to pick up my girlfriend.”
President He’s brows knitted instantly. “That girlfriend of yours who checks in on you every ten minutes?”
Chu Jinhán didn’t answer—silent confirmation.
President He shook his head and sighed. “You, honestly… It’s your private business, so I won’t say too much.”
“But I still have to give you a word of advice. Focus on your career. A man needs money. Without money, no matter how good you are to her, she’ll run sooner or later.”
“And if she hasn’t run yet, that’s only because she hasn’t met someone better. I’ve been there myself.”
Once President He started talking, he couldn’t stop. He launched into a long-winded account of his own years as a pathetic simp.
Chu Jinhán listened without a change of expression.
After finishing, President He summed it up neatly: “A man without money—nobody likes him. Not even dogs.”
Still, Chu Jinhán remained expressionless.
With no other moves left, President He waved his hand. “Alright, get off work.”
The meeting had gone on for over half an hour. It was already seven o’clock.
Night had fallen.
Song Yunfei checked her phone, wondering if he was still working overtime.
After a moment’s thought, she sent Chu Jinhán a message.
If he was still busy, she’d just take the bus home herself.
Five minutes passed. No reply.
She stood up and left the sales office.
The moment she stepped outside, she ran into a man wearing a floral shirt.
He blocked her path and smiled. “Working late, beautiful?”
Song Yunfei looked at him. His looks were average, and he seemed vaguely familiar—but she couldn’t place him.
The man chuckled. “You don’t recognize me?”
Still confused, she asked politely, “And you are…?”
He pulled out a business card from his pocket. “You gave me one before. Don’t remember?”
It clicked—he was the man who’d driven the Porsche last time. “Oh, it’s you. You’re here this late… to look at apartments?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Didn’t I say it before? I want to buy a place. Why don’t you show me around?”
At this hour, she was the only one left on the floor—aside from Zhang Tao in the office.
Something about this man felt off to her, but he was a customer, and she couldn’t exactly turn him away.
She gestured politely and led him to the scale model.
Taking out a brochure, she began introducing the project.
But the man’s attention clearly wasn’t on the apartments. His gaze clung to her face, sliding down to her neck, then her chest.
He interjected now and then.
“Miss Song, working overtime this late must be tough, huh?”
“Are you single? Got a boyfriend?”
“Thank you for your concern. I do have a boyfriend,” Song Yunfei replied with a courteous smile, continuing smoothly, “This unit’s balcony faces south, and—”
The man stepped closer, almost pressing against her.
Grinning, he cut her off. “They all look about the same to me. How about I take you out to dinner? We’ll sit somewhere nice, and you can explain it all slowly.”
Song Yunfei frowned and stepped aside, widening the distance between them.
“Sir, if you’re here to view apartments, I can continue the introduction. If not, I’m getting off work.”
Seeing her firm attitude, the smile faded from his face. “Isn’t this what people in your line of work do? Sell more apartments? Have dinner with me, and I’ll come sign the contract tomorrow. Full payment. How about that?”
Her face darkened. There were always people like this—those who thought having a bit of money put them above everyone else.
Before she could respond, the office door suddenly opened.
Zhang Tao stepped out and immediately sensed the tension. He encouraged female employees to chase sales, but never forced them—everything was voluntary.
And if he didn’t step in now, things could really get ugly.
“Xiao Song, still not off work?”
He quickly walked over, smiling warmly at the man in the floral shirt. “Sir, are you interested in our project? I’m Zhang Tao, the manager here. You can discuss any requirements with me.”
“She’s new,” he added smoothly. “Still hasn’t memorized everything about the project. I’m afraid she might not satisfy you. Xiao Song, you can head off now—I’ll take over.”
Song Yunfei felt as if she’d been granted amnesty.
Seems Zhang Tao wasn’t that much of a jerk after all.
“Alright, Manager.”
She grabbed her things and left immediately.
The man in the floral shirt shot Zhang Tao an annoyed look before storming off.
Zhang Tao spat on the ground. “Another loudmouth pretending to be rich. If you wanna pick up girls, at least pay a deposit first!”
Outside, the man called after her, irritated. “Why you running so fast, Miss Song? Just dinner, making a friend—I’m not gonna eat you.”
Song Yunfei had reached the roadside. His Porsche was parked right there.
He patted the hood, pride and superiority gleaming in his eyes. “How about I give you a ride? Where do you live?”
“No thanks.”
His face darkened. He didn’t press further—after being shut down again and again, he couldn’t quite save face.
Muttering something under his breath, he turned and got back into his Porsche.
Only after watching him drive away did Song Yunfei finally let out a breath.
But when she turned around—
Not far away, beside an electric scooter, stood Chu Jinhán.
He was looking at her quietly.