At seven o’clock sharp in the morning, He Wenqi was awakened by a hurried cell phone alarm.
He lifted his slightly swollen eyelids and stared blankly at the ceiling for a while, confirming he was in his own bedroom.
There is a saying, “The heart is clear even when the body is drunk.” He Wenqi hadn’t experienced a blackout; everything that happened last night came flooding back into his mind.
Except…
He had vomited all over Han Ji, but he didn’t know what happened after that.
He grabbed the front of his shirt and sniffed; there was no unusual smell, and he was wearing a clean set of pajamas. Stretching his limbs, he felt no discomfort or headache.
He Wenqi put on his clothes and went to the living room, but there was no sign of Han Ji.
He lightly went up to the second floor. In the bed within the cubicle, a person was tightly wrapped in a quilt, with only the top of a head dyed yellow showing.
“Qiao Yuan? When did you get back?”
The person on the bed let out a groan but didn’t move.
“When you came back, did you see…”
Before finishing the question, he let it go.
He Wenqi turned back to the bathroom to take a shower; the person must have already left, why would he still be here?
After tidying up, He Wenqi went back to his room to change. Regardless of what happened, he still had to go to work.
Passing by the desk, he noticed a note with a few lines of text written on it, pressed under a pen.
He pulled out the note and looked at it; it was a beautiful font with the silhouette of a blade that lived in his memory—he recognized it instantly.
[There is hot porridge in the kitchen; remember to eat it before you head out. I took two pieces of clothing as payment for sending you home. —Han Ji]
He Wenqi took the note into the kitchen. A pot was sitting on the stove; lifting the lid, he found a bowl of porridge inside, with the water underneath still hot. It had likely been placed there after the water was boiled for the purpose of keeping it warm.
He took a sip; it was fresh and savory—fish fillet porridge, his favorite—neither cold nor hot, just right for eating.
His stomach had been emptied by vomiting last night, and the hot porridge immediately piqued his appetite. He Wenqi stood leaning against the kitchen cabinet and finished the porridge in one go.
He tossed the empty bowl into the sink and went back to his room to open the wardrobe; sure enough, one T-shirt and one fleece jacket were missing.
Why take his clothes? Han Ji was taller and broader than him; would he wear them? They wouldn’t fit at all.
He Wenqi crumpled the note into a ball in his palm, and only then did he notice that the messy sketches and drafts on the desk had been neatly stacked, and the picture books were categorized and organized.
Brushing his hair back, He Wenqi felt a slight regret.
He shouldn’t have let Han Ji send him back last night, and even less should he have let him in the door.
Alcohol is truly something that can paralyze one’s reason.
Having used an excuse to escape Fang Zhenkang’s pestering, he should have parted ways halfway; even if he was sent to the front gate, he should have let him go after thanking him. Instead, he had grabbed the man’s clothes and wouldn’t let go, even climbing onto his back so naturally.
As if that weren’t enough, he vomited all over him and let him clean up…
Wait, He Wenqi felt a jolt—so Han Ji took the two pieces of clothing because they were soiled by him and he had nothing to change into?
He Wenqi took out his phone, found Han Ji’s WeChat friend request, and clicked to verify.
Just as it passed, a message came from the other side.
Han Ji: Awake?
Ru Shi Wo Wen (He Wenqi): Yeah, getting ready to head out.
Han Ji: Did you drink the porridge?
Ru Shi Wo Wen: Fish fillet porridge, the taste was very good.
Han Ji: Ordered from Su Ji Fang; the online reviews looked good.
Ru Shi Wo Wen: Thanks for last night. I will pay for the laundry fees for the soiled clothes.
Han Ji: No need, they’ve already been thrown away.
…
Being rich is different; throwing things away just like that.
Ru Shi Wo Wen: I will compensate you.
Han Ji: Treat me to a meal, consider that compensation.
Ru Shi Wo Wen: Okay.
Han Ji: I’ll decide the time and place.
Ru Shi Wo Wen: Fine.
Looking at the replied message, the corners of Han Ji’s mouth curved more and more. He tapped the screen and sent another message.
Han Ji: The drawings are good, looking forward to it.
He Wenqi glanced at the neat desk; there was nothing shameful to see.
From then on, He Wenqi didn’t see Han Ji for two consecutive days.
The company’s decor used a split-level design, with a high ceiling structure spanning three floors.
The CEO’s office was on the top floor; departments like HR and Finance were on the second floor; the remaining designers, artists, and creative staff were all on the bottom floor, which was a huge open space.
Due to the split-level design and the fact that all partitions were tempered glass, every floor could see the general situation of the other two, except for the closed CEO’s office.
When he arrived at work, Han Ji had already arrived; when he finished work, Han Ji hadn’t left yet. And without a summons from the boss, except for Assistant Chen going in and out, one couldn’t just enter the CEO’s office.
He Wenqi stayed low-profile at the front desk, clocking in and out on time, and didn’t move a single step from his workstation if he didn’t have to.
Han Ji hadn’t contacted him again after that night. However, on the second day, Fang Zhenkang used an excuse to come by to pry about that night, asking with feigned concern if he felt any discomfort after the hangover or if his head ached.
Finally, he asked tentatively: “President Han… how was it such a coincidence that he was at the same restaurant?”
He Wenqi ignored him, burying his head in organizing the company brochures in his hands.
Seeing that he didn’t respond, Fang Zhenkang had to speak his doubts directly: “Um, Xiao He, what document did President Han want that he had to get it from you?”
What kind of high-level documents could there be at the front desk that were needed so urgently?
“Manager Fang, is there a problem with that?”
“No problem, it’s just… you and President Han seem quite familiar, huh?”
The front desk belongs to the administration department, under HR. Logically, if President Han wanted something, he should have gone to Fang Zhenkang or instructed Assistant Chen to get it; why would he go directly to the front desk, and even personally go to someone’s house to pick it up? It was unconventional.
Plus, the last time He Wenqi took leave, Assistant Chen personally called. For a minor front desk employee, the CEO’s assistant handles their leave?
With years of HR intuition, Fang Zhenkang sensed that the relationship between He Wenqi and this new CEO, whether familiar or not, was very subtle.
He Wenqi didn’t even look up: “Really? President Han is very approachable.”
Approachable?
Han Ji liked wearing black, and with his meticulous hairstyle and stiff expression, Fang Zhenkang couldn’t find a single thing about Han Ji that related to that word.
And there was that time the Creative Director, Fu Zhichen, was scolded by Han Ji. Three project proposals were completely rejected and ordered to be redone, even though these projects were nearing completion. Redoing them now was equivalent to forcing people to work day and night.
Fu Zhichen argued back, saying the clients hadn’t requested a redo. Han Ji only replied with “Can it be done?”, and then the documents were thrown directly out of the CEO’s office. The papers flew from the third floor all over the place, drifting down to the first floor.
Han Ji had been in office for less than a week; Fu Zhichen had been the Creative Director for five years. Moreover, there was a ten-year age difference between them. Even as a CEO, being so disrespectful—how would his subordinates view him?
Fang Zhenkang had also interacted with Han Ji a few times and always felt he was very oppressive. Coupled with his tall stature and an aura that brooked no argument, it made him feel apprehensive.
“Xiao He, don’t overthink it, I’m just asking casually.” Fang Zhenkang said no more and went back to his office.
Today was Friday. Not long after starting work, the office suddenly became lively, with groups of three or five people gathering and whispering in discussion.
He Wenqi’s position was far away, so he didn’t pay much attention.
A moment later, Assistant Chen suddenly announced a company-wide meeting.
The company didn’t have a conference room large enough for everyone; only the training room was big enough, so everyone headed there.
“What kind of code are they going to decree this time? My joy as an adult going to a nightclub has already been halved. Does a 21st-century absolute monarchy still want to let people live?” Ling Chen caught up from behind. “He Wenqi, don’t you agree?”
He Wenqi walked silently at the end of the crowd, not saying a word to Ling Chen’s remarks.
Who knows? Who could guess the CEO’s mind?
Wang Dao, walking in front, turned his head: “Ling Chen, where did you wander off to? Didn’t you see the mass email just sent?”
“I just came out of the bathroom. What happened? Any big news?” Ling Chen rubbed his hands.
“Internal selection of talent, regardless of position or job type,” another colleague nearby summarized the main idea.
“Selecting talent?”
Wang Dao laughed scornfully: “Heh, anyway, it doesn’t have much to do with you, and even less to do with him. You guys just watch the show.”
Ling Chen, not understanding, curled his lip and shrugged at He Wenqi, indicating he didn’t follow.
The training room had no assigned seats; everyone chose their own. He Wenqi picked an empty seat in the last row. Just as he sat down, Han Ji entered from the back door and stood beside him.
He Wenqi looked straight ahead, sitting upright and staring at Assistant Chen on the podium.
Assistant Chen picked up the megaphone and cleared his throat: “Uh, everyone please be quiet. Today’s meeting is temporary and short. It’s mainly to emphasize the content of the email just sent. Please, President Han.”
Han Ji walked past He Wenqi and went straight to the front under everyone’s gaze. He looked around at everyone present, his gaze lingering on He Wenqi’s face for an extra second.
“I have been working with you all for a week. First, I want to thank every department for their cooperation, allowing me to quickly understand the internal operations of the company.” Han Ji’s voice was naturally pleasant; through the megaphone and the slight echo in the training room, the low-frequency resonance was amplified.
“However,” Han Ji maintained his rhythm, “I have also discovered that some of the company’s past systems are outdated. Whether in the past or now, the company’s main projects revolve around design and promotion; we should not be too conventional. Design must maintain creativity and be active.”
“So I have decided to launch a talent selection within the company…”
Halfway through Han Ji’s words, the people below began to whisper.
Assistant Chen tapped the table to remind them. Han Ji waited quietly for a moment, then continued: “Heroes are not judged by their origins. Education is a threshold, but it shouldn’t be an absolute one. I don’t want truly talented people to be buried. Therefore, in this selection, everyone can sign up to participate. As long as you have ideas and solid skills, you can apply.”
“Specific requirements are detailed in the email sent this morning. There will be two assessments: individual and team. I hope everyone will actively participate and show your true strength. The company will not be stingy in providing opportunities and will surely make the best use of everyone’s talent.”
“Additionally, if you have greater ambitions, the company will also provide recommendations.” Han Ji lengthened his gaze, subconsciously looking toward the back row. “Of course, that’s for later and unrelated to this.”
“Alright, I won’t take up any more of your time. Calling everyone here to say this in person is just to express how much I value this talent selection, so please take it seriously. This opportunity only comes once.”
As Han Ji was about to leave, a young girl also sitting in a corner of the last row suddenly stood up: “President Han, everyone can sign up—so I’m in the administration department and have nothing to do with design, can I also sign up?” She was likely very nervous; the latter half of her sentence became quieter and quieter until it faded away.
Han Ji turned back and emphasized: “Everyone, regardless of position or job type, as long as you are a company employee, including interns.”
“Any more questions?”
The girl shook her head and sat down, her face visibly red.
This kind of thing had never happened in the company before. Put nicely, it’s selecting talent; put bluntly, it’s about weeding out the old for the new.
“He Wenqi, He Wenqi,” Ling Chen scrambled up from behind the dispersing crowd and grabbed He Wenqi’s shoulder. “Hey, are you going to participate?”
“What?”
“The signup thing President Han mentioned. I remember you originally wanted to enter the design department when you first came to the company. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
Before He Wenqi could reply, someone behind suddenly spoke: “Doesn’t he have any sense of his own level? Compared to us, didn’t he lose back then? The result is obvious.”
The speaker was Wang Dao again; he was referring to when He Wenqi competed with them for an internship in the design department during the interview.
What he lost back then was the educational background.
He Wenqi had his own plans and didn’t want to engage in a war of words with pointless people.
“I will participate,” he answered Ling Chen.
“Me too.” Ling Chen was eager to try. “I’ve been a design assistant for a year, and the team leader never assigns important projects to me. I have to earn an opportunity for myself.”
The news Han Ji announced brought joy to some and worry to others; those who were just occupying positions and idling away their days were probably getting anxious.
“What does he mean, huh? What do you think he means?” Fang Zhenkang sat heavily on the sofa, keeping his voice low, his throat raspy with suppressed anger.
In the Creative Director’s office, Fu Zhichen locked the door, pulled down the blinds, and said to Fang Zhenkang: “That’s enough, Old Fang. Selecting talent is a good thing.”
Fang Zhenkang: “Good? What’s good? Initially, he said he just wanted to assess the new interns, but now it’s a company-wide selection. Outdated? Making the best use of talent? Isn’t he just saying I’m burying talent and making unreasonable arrangements? He might as well have named names.”
Fu Zhichen: “I think you’re overthinking it. What capability does someone in their early twenties have as a CEO? Isn’t he just relying on the resources his family gave him? Let him toss things around; he won’t make much of a splash.”
Fang Zhenkang looked up at him: “Fu Zhichen, I see you’re not in a hurry. At least I’m in HR, which has nothing to do with design. When the newcomers climb up, let’s see if you’ll be in a hurry then. Early twenties? Didn’t that ‘early twenties’ just scold you until you looked like a mess?”
Fu Zhichen’s eyes flickered; he didn’t respond, but the disposable water cup in his hand was squeezed out of shape.
On Friday after work, everyone was very eager to leave, except for those who had to stay behind for projects. In the blink of an eye, everyone had vanished.
He Wenqi was also packing his things to leave when his phone beeped with a message.
Han Ji: Are you free tonight? Treat me to dinner.
He had agreed last time to treat Han Ji to a meal as compensation for the clothes.
Ru Shi Wo Wen: Okay.
Han Ji sent an address: I still have some things to handle. Eight o’clock tonight, I’ve already booked the place.
Ru Shi Wo Wen: Just right, I’m going home.
Ru Shi Wo Wen: To feed the cat.
Han Ji: I’ll pick you up then. We’ll talk on the phone.