Back in the office, Han Ji took off his coat and threw it onto the sofa with force.
He was unhappy—extremely unhappy.
What was wrong? Was what he said incorrect? Why was it that others could do it, but he received a slap? Where exactly did He Wenqi look down on him?
That He Wenqi had once liked him was also a fact.
The slap wasn’t heavy or light; it didn’t feel like much. Rather, it was his chest that felt a sour pain, as if a fine cowhair needle had been pricked in, deeply embedded in the flesh, its trace nowhere to be found.
Assistant Chen knocked and entered, handing him a black coffee and setting down a stack of documents: “President Han, these are the documents that need your signature today—they are quite urgent; these three are the revised proposals from Director Fu; and these several over here are needed for tomorrow and the day after.”
Assistant Chen categorized the documents in front of him and added: “Linger Company called early this morning to ask when we would be sending a liaison to discuss the cooperation.”
Han Ji took a sip of coffee, frowned slightly, and set it down: “Linger? Is that the company that offers a high price but no one is willing to take their publicity account?”
“Yes. Previously they cooperated with Fengxing Design Company. Linger wasn’t satisfied with a single proposal Fengxing produced. I heard Fengxing’s designers would rather resign than work on the Linger case. Their creative director got depressed and is still seeing a psychologist.”
“So hard to serve? ‘Under a heavy reward, there must be a brave man’—with such a high price offered, not a single company dares to take it?”
“According to the people at Fengxing, Linger can always pick out a problem. Once that problem is solved, they raise the next one. It sounds more like professional fault-finding than a serious desire for publicity.”
Han Ji’s long fingers nimbly twirled a pen: “So in the end, Fengxing simply backed out of the contract, preferring to pay the liquidated damages?”
“Yes. They’d rather lose money than do their proposal.”
Han Ji thought for a moment: “Have them send over the preliminary requirements first. I’ll take a look before deciding.”
“Understood, President Han.” Assistant Chen responded but didn’t move.
Han Ji looked up: “Is there something else?”
“President Han, I’d like to request leave.”
“Mm,” Han Ji lowered his head to continue signing, “For how long?”
“One… one week.”
“Something happening at home?”
“There is something. My family arranged a blind date for me.”
“A blind date? It takes a week? How many girls did they arrange for you?”
Assistant Chen had seen Han Ji enter the office with a cold face earlier and worried that asking for leave at this juncture might not go smoothly. Furthermore, it was somewhat irresponsible for an assistant to ask for such a long leave just after a new boss took office.
But at this point, he couldn’t care about that much; he simply told the truth: “President Han, actually, I want to go back to my hometown to pursue a girl.”
That girl was his classmate. Back then, they liked each other, but they missed their chance because of their respective futures.
Assistant Chen was twenty-seven this year and still single. It wasn’t that he couldn’t find a girlfriend, but that he always felt something was missing in the people he met.
At this year’s class reunion, he and the girl met again. Only then did he understand what was missing.
Time had passed, and he didn’t know how the other party viewed him now. He only learned from classmates that the girl was also single and had recently gone back to their hometown on vacation to see her parents. He wanted to take this opportunity to make up for his regret.
Han Ji didn’t speak after listening.
Assistant Chen thought he disagreed and hurriedly said: “President Han, don’t worry, I won’t delay work. I’ll have my computer with me at all times, and my phone will be on 24 hours a day. If you have anything, just instruct me as usual.”
Han Ji remained silent, his thoughts unknown.
Assistant Chen added: “I’ve communicated with Xiao Ying from the Administration Department. If there’s anything that needs to be handled in person, you can have her go. I’ll teach her what to do; I won’t cause any chaos for you.”
Han Ji said in a cold, deep voice: “You’ve arranged everything so thoroughly; does that mean I have no choice but to approve your leave?”
“No, President Han, I didn’t mean it like that…”
Han Ji interrupted him: “No need for Xiao Ying. Hand over your current tasks to He Wenqi. Let him do them during the days you are away. I see the workload at the front desk isn’t quite saturated.”
Assistant Chen was stunned for a moment, then immediately reacted.
This morning he heard people saying He Wenqi had slapped a mosquito right onto the President’s face; Han Ji’s expression still didn’t look very good even now.
He had only been with this new boss for over a week and hadn’t yet grasped his temperament.
However, a long-time employee like Fu Zhichen was scolded whenever deserved, without any face being given.
And then there was Fang Zhenkang, an old fox in the Personnel Department—he must have offended Han Ji somewhere, as for several days Han Ji had been intentionally or unintentionally inquiring about Fang Zhenkang’s past experience in the company, appearing quite dissatisfied.
As for He Wenqi, that slap definitely landed on the “tiger’s backside.” Putting him right in front of the boss meant he likely wouldn’t have many good days ahead.
Assistant Chen now regretted asking for leave a little; surely he wouldn’t be put on the boss’s blacklist?
“Why are you still standing there?” Han Ji glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
Assistant Chen turned to leave, but then heard Han Ji add: “Is one week too short? How about I just approve a month for you? Is one week enough time to pursue someone?”
Assistant Chen truly regretted it now. Love and work—he wanted both.
…
That evening, He Wenqi had just come out from showering at home when he received a call from Han Ji.
This was the first time the two of them had spoken since that awkward slap in the morning.
“Going to Nanshi on a business trip tomorrow. Book two tickets for the morning flight,” Han Ji commanded in a businesslike tone.
He Wenqi dried his wet hair: “President Han, shouldn’t you look for the Personnel Department to book tickets?”
Han Ji was silent for two seconds: “Did Assistant Chen not do a work handover with you today?”
“Doesn’t it start tomorrow?”
“Start tonight; treat it as advance practice. Two tickets, and the hotel needs to be booked in advance. Ask the Personnel Department for the specifications.”
He Wenqi draped the towel over his head: “Fine. Two tickets to Nanshi. One is yours; who is the other one for?”
Han Ji: “Yours.”
He Wenqi: “I have to go too?”
“When the boss goes on a business trip, the assistant naturally has to follow.”
“Fine—” He Wenqi put the phone down and switched to speakerphone, picking up the fat tabby cat that was rubbing against his leg. “Does President Han have any other instructions?”
“No,” a short pause, then he added, “Go to sleep early. Tomorrow we go directly from Nanshi Airport to Linger Company. It will be very tiring.”
“Understood, Boss.”
Having finished, the call should have been hung up, but there was no movement from Han Ji’s side for a long time.
He Wenqi didn’t hang up either, scratching the tabby cat’s head: “Zoro, you’re blind in one eye, but you’re much better than people who can see with two.”
Han Ji: “What did you say?”
He Wenqi: “What did I say?”
“Do you have nothing to say to me?”
“No.”
“Fine. See you at the airport tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.”
He Wenqi hung up the phone and continued scratching the cat’s head: “What does he want me to say? A foul mouth deserves a hit; does he expect me to apologize? Right, Zoro?”
The fat tabby was so comfortable from the scratching that it purred and narrowed its eyes.
…
The next morning, the two met at the airport.
The trip to Nanshi was mainly to visit the interior of Linger Company; they would stay for two days and one night.
Han Ji had received the design requirements from Linger. Actually, they just wanted to do a company promotional campaign. He had his own considerations; with Fengxing’s precedent, it certainly wouldn’t be that simple.
Of course, he could choose not to take the Linger case at all, but having just taken over as President, if he could use the Linger case as a starting point, it would be very beneficial for both him and the company.
He wanted to see the site in person and personally understand the other company’s main business and internal culture. Being able to more intuitively and accurately perceive the impression the other party wanted to output to the market would help narrow the scope of the publicity proposal and allow for precise positioning.
On the plane, Han Ji was in business class and He Wenqi was in economy.
Just as well—no need to continue the awkwardness face-to-face.
Someone from Linger Company came to pick them up at Nanshi Airport. They arrived at the company right at noon and had lunch in the cafeteria.
The afternoon began with a tour of the company, followed by a discussion of specific requirements with the person in charge. By the end of it, Han Ji roughly had an idea in his mind.
In the evening, Linger Company played host. Regardless of whether a cooperation could be reached later, the necessary hospitality was still required. Moreover, the other party hadn’t expected Han Ji to come in person; besides the general manager, they sent five other people to accompany them, being exceptionally enthusiastic.
A dinner party inevitably becomes a drinking party.
He Wenqi followed Han Ji the whole time, doing whatever he was told. He appeared obedient and submissive but was actually very passive.
In such a setting, logically, an assistant should utilize special skills outside of work: either being good at talking to deflect drinks, or being good at drinking to block them, or being good at persuading others to drink toasts.
With the two of them, it was the exact opposite.
When the other party was polite to He Wenqi, Han Ji blocked all the drinks for him.
He would either say, “His stomach is not good, he can’t drink,” or “He has to take me back to the hotel, he needs to stay clear-headed,” or else “I’ll take this cup for him.”
The host laughed and joked: “President Han, the treatment for being your assistant is truly excellent.”
As a result, by the end of the meal, even with Han Ji’s massive capacity for alcohol, he couldn’t help but get drunk.
When the dinner ended, He Wenqi half-dragged and half-pulled Han Ji into the car. He turned to go to the passenger seat, but Han Ji suddenly sat up, grabbed his arm, made some room beside him, and pulled him directly in to sit next to him.
He Wenqi had to sit down: “Are you drunk or not?”
Han Ji stared at him for a long time, then slumped his head onto He Wenqi’s shoulder, his forehead leaning against his neck. His hair tickled He Wenqi incessantly.
“Hang in there, wait until we get back to the hotel to collapse. I can’t carry you on my back.”
Han Ji was half a head taller than He Wenqi and had a robust build. Throughout the ride, He Wenqi felt like he had a large tree trunk leaning on him.
Once at the hotel, it was only with the help of the front desk staff that they got into the room.
After a bout of exertion, He Wenqi’s back was soaked with sweat. He took off his coat and wiped his face in the bathroom.
Turning back, he saw Han Ji lying motionless on the bedroom bed, seemingly having fallen asleep.
He Wenqi stood silent at the door for a long while.
A question now lay before him: should he clean up Han Ji?
From his current feelings, he didn’t want to.
But the last time he himself was drunk, Han Ji had not only carried him home but had also been vomited on. Despite that, Han Ji had cleaned the room spotlessly and left him feeling fresh.
Courtesy demands reciprocity; one thing is one thing.
Furthermore, he was the boss and he was the subordinate/assistant; for both public and private reasons, he couldn’t just ignore him like this.
After a battle between his inner heaven and man, He Wenqi entered the bedroom with a wrung-out hot towel. He looked the man over from head to toe, then from toe to head, wondering where to start.
Han Ji lay on the bed with his eyes closed, senseless, his cheeks and eyelids flushed a rosy red. His neat hair had been rubbed into a mess. His chest rose and fell with a large displacement, his breathing heavy as if he were having trouble getting enough air.
He Wenqi first unbuttoned the shirt buttons and used the towel to wipe Han Ji’s damp neck.
The drunkenness seeped through the skin, turning him red from his neck down to his chest.
He Wenqi continued wiping downward, then suddenly stopped his movements.
In the past, just seeing Han Ji wear a shirt, he thought his chest looked very thick and bulging. Just as he said, the effect of persistent fitness…
Using the towel as a barrier and using the wiping motion as a cover, He Wenqi lightly pressed on Han Ji’s chest. The sensation under his hand…
Was truly not bad.
Suddenly realizing his thoughts had gone astray, He Wenqi yanked his hand back and hurriedly moved the towel away from Han Ji’s chest.
His hand moved away, but his gaze did not.
The skin on the chest had just been wiped with a hot towel; hit by the cold air, the “little peach blossoms” underwent a contraction from the alternating heat and cold.
It was perfectly normal.
The fault lay in He Wenqi’s own mind not being “clean.” Even more as if possessed by a ghost, his gaze moved downward uncontrollably…
“What are you looking at?” Han Ji had opened his eyes at some unknown point.