Two days after the exhibition ended, Zhu Ling received a call from her father, asking her to attend a dinner banquet that evening. The guest of honor was Director Zhou from the procurement department of Boyue Li Hotel, and the venue was the Boyue Li Chinese Restaurant in Lujiazui. The purpose was to obtain bidding information, secure a chance to submit a bid, and foster a friendship with Director Zhou.
Zhu Ling had been in a tiff with her singer boyfriend these past few days. They were both busy, and the time they usually allocated to each other wasn't all that much. They had never experienced a fiery, passionate romance—just an ordinary couple with a plain, uneventful dynamic. But once they started quarreling, one became possessed by the spirit of poetry while the other channeled a melodramatic actor. They exchanged lyrical essays condemning each other, one after another, staging a soap opera of love and heartbreak every single day, riding waves of emotional turmoil that were far more intense than when they first fell in love.
Under these circumstances, Zhu Ling had no mood whatsoever to deal with her father's troubles. Besides, there was no reason to ask a student to attend a company business dinner. So she flatly refused: "You have so many people in your company—why ask me? I'm not going."
"Daddy will give you money, buy you anything you want—phones, handbags, figurines, concert tickets. Tell me what you want!"
"Thirty thousand?"
The voice on the other end immediately yelped: "You couldn't even sell your father at auction for that price! Thirty thousand, thirty thousand—do you think making money is as easy as cooking porridge or steaming rice?!"
"Daddy, today is my birthday. Did you know that?"
His voice softened a few notches, but he probably didn't feel guilty or ashamed, because he still insisted she attend the dinner: "Daddy knows, of course Daddy knows! That's exactly why Daddy is so eager to see you! If you come to the dinner, you can see me too—killing two birds with one stone. Come on, come on, Daddy has a big red envelope for you tonight!"
"How big? Thirty thousand?"
After a moment of silence, he actually gritted his teeth and agreed: "Fine!"
It was no wonder Zhu Zhangyang was willing to give in to Zhu Ling's willful demand—this dinner was far too important to him.
Ever since receiving Director Zhou's business card from the procurement department of Boyue Li at the exhibition, he had been fixated on building a connection with Director Zhou. But if he called out of the blue, the man wouldn't even give him the time of day. If he burned that bridge from the start, there would be no room to maneuver later, so he had to resort to a roundabout strategy. He had a wide network and a large social circle, and over the past two days he had been scrambling, finally getting a friend-of-a-friend to act as a go-between and pass word to Director Zhou, expressing his hope to invite him out for a casual meal and make a friend.
Director Zhou considered it for a day, then actually called him back directly, saying a casual meal was fine. He was overjoyed. Over the past two days, he had done his homework: this young Mr. Huo, new to his post, was making sweeping changes—overhauling reforms, replacing outdated executives, tightening service standards, scrutinizing details, and making major adjustments to the dining strategy, including replacing the banquet hall menu. This meant the hotel would soon be switching to and bringing in new food suppliers. And Mr. Huo himself had attended the Global Food Exhibition that day precisely to evaluate and connect with suppliers.
Although Santa Trading Company had barely cleared the hard threshold for hotel supplier qualification, in other areas—such as service and after-sales, pricing and costs—it couldn't compete with the top-tier companies at all. Even if they secured the chance to bid, they had no hope of winning. If they could get a little help from Director Zhou of the procurement department and become a supplier to Boyue Li—supplying a high-end hotel with over four hundred guest rooms—the future prospects would speak for themselves: skyrocketing performance, the company taking off directly.
In any case, Director Zhou quickly agreed to the dinner, but he did make one request: could they bring everyone who had attended the exhibition that day?
Zhu Zhangyang pondered briefly, understood what was going on, and immediately called Zhu Ling. When she refused, he kept raising the stakes, offering the unprecedented condition of a thirty-thousand-yuan red envelope. Unfortunately, Zhu Ling was stubborn as a mule: "A bunch of my friends are throwing me a birthday party. I don't have time."
Zhu Zhangyang flew into a panic: "Are that bunch of good-for-nothing friends of yours more important than the family business, more important than the company's growth? And here I've been deliberately grooming you all along—forget about having the awareness of an heir to Santa Trading Company, you don't even care about family! Are you even human?! You shame your ancestors!" At that point, recalling the countless hardships of managing a company and the cold, stubborn daughter who was drifting away, unfilial and disobedient, grief welled up in him, and he took a big gulp of the red wine his own company sold.
Although Zhu Ling's father's sugar-coated paternal love was full of holes, as flimsy as the character of his sweet partner, the Lakeside Villa socialite, the weight of ancestral names and five thousand years of moral force still carried some heft. Pressed down upon her, it was something Zhu Ling could not resist, and besides, she also wanted that big red envelope of thirty thousand yuan. So she accepted her biological father's request made in the name of love—after school, she grabbed her bag and actually went to the dinner at Lujiazui's Puyue.
Her body arrived, but her heart did not. Pulling a long face, her first words were about her alcohol allergy—she would not be drinking.
Zhu Zhangyang broke out in a sweat and quickly laughed it off, trying to smooth things over. He had originally assumed this Director Zhou was not a proper sort, that his request for "everyone who was at the exhibition that day to be present" must harbor some self-serving motive—perhaps the man was even a lecherous sort. But to his surprise, the man was perfectly proper, sitting two seats away from Zhu Ling and not even glancing at her face. When he heard Zhu Ling would not drink, he immediately said, "There's juice, there's juice."
Zhu Zhangyang was astonished. No matter how self-important he was or how eager to curry connections, he understood that a small trading firm like his was not qualified to become a supplier at Puyue. Director Zhou agreeing to attend the dinner was already an unexpected delight, but his generous and accommodating attitude was truly baffling. It was not until halfway through the banquet, when Huo Shize suddenly appeared, that he was even more stunned. A few seconds later, a thought flashed through his mind like lightning: No way? No way? No way?
Zhu Zhangyang's guess was not wrong. At a critical moment of the hotel's major reforms, why would Director Zhou, as head of the procurement department, attend a dinner hosted by an unqualified small supplier? The reason he agreed to the Santian Trading Company's dinner was because, at the exhibition that day, he had seen the look Huo Shize gave that girl. He was newly promoted by Huo Shize and was in a phase of going all out to prove himself. Working diligently was not enough—he also needed to be Mr. Huo's confidant.
At the exhibition that day, Huo Shize had already walked past the small Santian Trading booth, then suddenly stepped back. The exchange he had with the girl called "the young miss," and the look in his eyes when he watched her—Director Zhou had seen it all clearly from the side. How to put it? It was quite different. He had never seen such a look at any other time or place, and those few seconds when Mr. Huo stared at the girl in a daze were practically equivalent to being utterly bewitched. Speaking of the value of that gaze—one second from a playboy with a long string of ex-girlfriends was worth at least 365 days, a full year, of an ordinary man's attention.
Director Zhou, striving to be the confidant, received the message passed through Zhu Zhangyang's friend and went along with it, accepting the dinner invitation and requesting that everyone who had exhibited that day must attend.
Director Zhou thought: if he had misread the situation, then this dinner would simply be as if it never happened; but if he had guessed Mr. Huo's intentions correctly, then he would play matchmaker, help Santian Trading Company, and give them a chance to bid competitively—that would be fine too. After accepting the dinner invitation, he went to report to Huo Shize and asked whether he could attend, but Huo Shize said he already had other engagements that evening.
Huo Shize's other engagement, he knew, was hosting several VIP corporate clients at the hotel's Western restaurant. To be a good confidant, besides keeping one's eyes open, reading between the lines was also an essential skill. Huo Shize said he had other engagements, but he did not explicitly say he would not attend the Santian dinner.
After a moment's thought, Director Zhou understood. The dinner with Santian Trading Company proceeded as planned, and the venue was deliberately arranged at Puyue's Chinese restaurant. This way, he could demonstrate that his intentions were pure and clear for all to see, while also being extremely considerate. The Western restaurant where Huo Shize was hosting clients was on the same floor—if he came over, it was just a few steps away, extremely convenient.
Sure enough, halfway through, Huo Shize came over from the other engagement at the Western restaurant.
Director Zhou was well prepared. He unobtrusively guided Huo Shize to the empty seat reserved beside Zhu Ling, then called out in rapid succession for more drinks and to reorder dishes. At the same time, he introduced the Santian Trading Company party to Huo Shize, with the focus naturally on Zhu Ling: "This is Mr. Zhu's daughter, Miss Zhu Ling. She's still in school—a sophomore this year." Then he turned to the Santian group, "What did I hear you all call her last time?"
Everyone laughed and answered in unison: "She's our young miss."
Knowing full well that the two had already met, Director Zhou still made a show of introducing Zhu Ling: "Young miss, this is our hotel's GM. We usually call him Young Mr. Huo."
After a round of business card exchanges and pleasantries, Huo Shize took his seat and began loosening his tie while taking a deep breath—a habit of his when impatient. Director Zhou's heart sank at the sight, suddenly uncertain, and for a moment he wondered if his flattery had backfired.
Huo Shize was impatient. He loosened his tie, took the tea, but didn't drink it. Instead, he cast a glance at Zhu Ling's face. Swept by his not-so-pleasant look, she felt a little uneasy and a little embarrassed. She had only heard that tonight's guest of honor was the head of the procurement department, but she never expected Huo Shize to suddenly show up—much less to meet him at a dinner like this after he had confessed his feelings to her. That is, if "wondering what sleeping position you use at night" could be considered a confession. It was certainly not a common approach in the market.
The common approach in the market—the standard routine of her suitors—was mostly "I love you, I love you, I love you, I want to be with you." So despite having many suitors, she had never encountered someone like him. He was different from any previous pursuer, and it left her a bit dazed. Though it did match her impression of him—he was the kind of man who would start flirting within five minutes of exchanging contact information.
Thanks to her subordinate's thoughtfulness and the supplier's tact, the two of them ended up meeting in such a manner at this formal occasion. Huo Shize didn't look too pleased. He took a sip of tea, then turned his face to look at her. Seeing that he seemed to have something to say, Zhu Ling leaned slightly toward him, eyes lowered, adopting the humble posture expected of the host party, ready to listen.
Then she heard him whisper by her ear: "Aside from skipping school to mess around, do you attend dinner parties like this often?"
She was stunned, not knowing how to respond, and let out an involuntary "Ah?"
He continued to chide her, though his voice dropped even lower: "You're a blockhead, aren't you?"
Zhu Zhangyang's eyes never left the two of them. Seeing Huo Shize's intimate demeanor, whispering to his daughter like a close friend or even a lover, he was so delighted that his hands and feet trembled, and the scant few ounces of lean flesh on his body quivered.
As for Zhu Ling, upon hearing his "blockhead," she finally snapped back to her senses, and her expression shifted. Who did he think he was? Honestly, he was too much.
Zhu Ling's rebellious streak flared up, and she got angry too. But at this moment, she was just classmate Zhu Ling, not well-defended enough, and she still had an entire evening to face. She decided to go to the restroom to stick on a few pairs of false eyelashes to arm herself. Ignoring him, she downed the remaining drink in her glass in one gulp, grabbed her little bag, stood up, and hurried off to the restroom.
Among all the attendees at tonight's dinner, no one was more overjoyed than Zhu Zhangyang. Huo Shize had never been part of the blueprint he envisioned for the future—his target was merely Director Zhou of the procurement department. Being able to curry favor with Director Zhou was already enough to make his heart flutter with joy and complete satisfaction. Who would have thought that Huo Shize, the hotel's general manager, would suddenly appear as well? And when he guessed why Huo Shize had come, he was so thrilled he didn't know what to do with himself, leading a few salespeople in flattering him with "Mr. Huo this" and "Mr. Huo that."
While the people at the private room table were toasting each other with empty praise and awkward small talk, Zhu Ling grabbed her bag and ran to the restroom. She sat on the toilet, gnawed at her nails, scrolled through her phone, stuck on her false eyelashes, dawdled for quite a while, then washed her hands and went out. With the heavy artillery now in place, her defenses instantly strengthened, and her mind became much clearer. She remembered her mission and silently recited: "Client side, client side, I am the client side. Thirty thousand, thirty thousand, I want thirty thousand."
Who would have thought that the moment she stepped out of the women's restroom, she would immediately run into Huo Shize coming her way. The moment he saw her, he stopped, reached out to push open a nearby nursing room, and beckoned to her: "Come here a moment."
As an awkward vendor who had been confessed to by the client, and based on her understanding of his character, Zhu Ling's instinct told her it was best to keep her distance. To avoid a direct confrontation with him, she planned to sidestep him—but she couldn't. Before she could take a single step, he strode over quickly, reached out, grabbed her, and she was dragged off her feet into the nursing room.