Chapter 50

"Hello, Manager Jiang, my name is Shang Zhitao." Shang Zhitao hadn't expected Jiang Lan to suddenly ask for her name, but fortunately, it was just her name.

"The event was well-organized." Jiang Lan praised her, then said, "I live next door. When Luke wakes up, you can let me know. We still have some industry association matters to discuss."

"Alright. I'll leave a message for Luke and have him contact you when he wakes up." Shang Zhitao was gradually learning to read people's expressions and gauge boundaries. Jiang Lan's "have her tell me" actually meant "have Luke come find me himself."

After seeing Jiang Lan off, she returned to Luan Nian's bedside and saw he was still pretending. Everyone had left, yet he kept his eyes tightly shut. Shang Zhitao called his name softly twice, but he refused to open them, only murmuring a low "hot."

Shang Zhitao acknowledged with an "oh," picked up a towel, and wiped his face. This time, she was genuinely helping him. Even if he was pretending to be drunk, he had still drunk quite a bit and was likely feeling unwell now.

Luan Nian grasped Shang Zhitao's hand. They never touched each other's hands outside of intimate moments, but today he had done so twice—first hooking her finger and now holding her hand. The palm of someone who had been drinking was warm, pressed against Shang Zhitao's slightly cool hand. His thumb gently stroked her skin as he spoke with rare tenderness: "Will you come straight to my place after landing on Friday?"

Shang Zhitao set the towel aside, leaned her lips close to his, lightly brushed them, and quickly pulled away: "Yes."

"Shang Zhitao."

"Hmm?"

"My head hurts."

Luan Nian had never mentioned feeling unwell before. Shang Zhitao had always assumed he had an indestructible body, boundless energy, a mind constantly at work, and an incredibly vibrant life force.

"Should I get you painkillers?"

"They're in my laptop bag."

Shang Zhitao found the painkillers in Luan Nian's laptop bag. A few had already been taken, clearly not his first time experiencing a headache. She poured him a glass of water and couldn't help asking, "Do you get headaches often?"

"Occasionally. It's neuralgia. My mother has it too."

"Oh." Shang Zhitao crouched by the bed and placed her fingers on his temples. "Does it hurt here?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"You're welcome. You took care of me when I had pneumonia last time."

"Repaying a favor?"

...

===

The security guard in Luan Nian's neighborhood who recognized Shang Zhitao had been promoted to deputy security captain. He had swapped his old uniform for a sharper one, looking more alert and efficient at his post. Seeing Shang Zhitao dragging her suitcase, he proactively drove a small cart over: "Let me give you a ride."

"Thank you."

The security captain placed her suitcase in the cart. "Let's go, Miss Shang." He no longer thought of Shang Zhitao as someone engaged in questionable work.

Luan Nian had returned on an early flight and was in the middle of a conference call at home. Hearing the door open, he glanced toward the entrance. Shang Zhitao looked travel-weary. She must have been exhausted—after the event ended, she had to settle accounts with the event company this morning and follow up on various wrap-up tasks. She had probably woken up at six.

Shang Zhitao placed the key to Luan Nian's home in her bag, took her designated slippers from the shoe rack, and walked over to Luan Nian. She drank the glass of ice-cold soda by his hand, pointed upstairs, and mouthed to him, "I'm going to shower."

Luan Nian muted the call and grabbed her wrist. "Take a nap after your shower."

"Okay."

Shang Zhitao went to the guest room, quickly took a shower, changed into her pajamas, but she wasn’t sleepy. So she took out her laptop to write her performance review report. She had never written one before and didn’t know how to go about it. She pulled up examples from other colleagues, but their work content was different, so she could only roughly copy the format. The PowerPoint was open, and she didn’t understand why performance reviews had to be done in PowerPoint.

She wrote, deleted, rewrote, and after a long struggle, she had written less than fifty words. Luan Nian came upstairs after his meeting and saw the guest room door open. He stood at the doorway and looked at her: “Not sleepy?”

Shang Zhitao shook her head: “I haven’t finished my performance review report.”

Luan Nian sat on the edge of the bed, took her laptop, and saw the PowerPoint with fewer than fifty words: “So in the past hour or so, you’ve averaged less than one word per minute?”

“I don’t know what to write…” Shang Zhitao felt a bit ashamed.

Luan Nian glanced at her—she really could accept herself even when she seemed like a fool.

“What have you been doing all this time?”

“I…”

“If you say you’ve just been doing odd jobs, then you might as well give up on this promotion.” Luan Nian cut her off. That was just like Luan Nian—always strict.

“I might need to organize my thoughts.” Shang Zhitao felt a bit uneasy. Whenever she talked about work in front of Luan Nian, she always felt like she lacked confidence.

“Then organize them properly.” Luan Nian handed the laptop back to her and said, “A performance review isn’t about detailing every single task you’ve done. It’s about sorting through your work, categorizing the complex tasks, and presenting how you managed to do them well or even create experiences others can learn from. Am I making myself clear?”

“Clear.”

“Then write now. Start with the first part of your work: budget management.”

Luan Nian knew exactly what Shang Zhitao had been doing, but he wouldn’t write it for her. She had to learn to think independently.

“Okay. Thank you, Luke.” When it came to work matters, she called him Luke. Shang Zhitao switched effortlessly.

Luan Nian went back to his room and returned a while later with his laptop. He was in a review meeting. Every year, the company selected one industry expert to receive a million-yuan equity incentive and an adjusted annual salary package. He gestured with his chin for Shang Zhitao to make room for him on the bed. Shang Zhitao shifted to one side, and Luan Nian leaned against the headboard on the outer edge, stretching his legs out on the bed.

He muted his microphone and said to Shang Zhitao, “Don’t know how to write a performance review, right? Listen to this.”

“Can I listen?”

Luan Nian glanced at her: “Too many questions.” Luan Nian didn’t think there was anything she couldn’t listen to. In fact, he felt there were issues with the promotion system and had discussed it with Tracy. He hoped the hiring of high-level experts could be more transparent, allowing others to listen in, or even turning it into an open performance review. But Tracy disagreed. Her reasoning was that such reviews had too many variables—often, it wasn’t about the review itself but about background, resources, and connections. Absolute fairness was impossible to achieve.

The person currently giving the review was Grace. Grace was a core employee in the creative center, with dual roles spanning the planning department. Shang Zhitao had collaborated with Grace on projects and knew how capable she was.

This was also the first time Shang Zhitao had seen such a performance review.

This wasn’t a performance review—it was a battle!

Grace presented her content, constantly interrupted by the bosses who would then pose sharp questions. Luan Nian asked a question that made Shang Zhitao think if she were Grace, she would definitely be cursing him to death in her heart.

Luan Nian asked, "What does this project's success have to do with you? The client was secured by sales."

Oh my god.

Luan Nian really had a way of doing things—even challenging his own people in such a setting. Shang Zhitao suddenly felt that being Luan Nian’s subordinate wasn’t all that great after all.

Grace fell silent for a few seconds before replying, "I rationally believe that my role in this project is the icing on the cake. Without me, the project would still be delivered, but not as excellently."

Huh? Shang Zhitao thought to herself: Is this what Lumi meant by workplace confidence?

Shang Zhitao took advantage of Luan Nian’s influence to secretly sit in on such a promotion competition, where all participants were top-tier employees of the company. This was in 2011, when a million in stock options and a significant salary increase were equivalent to securing a ticket into the city—at the very least, it meant being able to afford a home.

Their work was truly outstanding: handling S-level projects, leveraging both internal and external company resources, setting industry standards, and winning international awards. Each of them was an expert in their respective fields.

That day had an enormous impact on Shang Zhitao’s mindset—the rewards of work varied greatly from person to person. The immense returns truly outstanding individuals received were unimaginable.

"So, is my performance review going to be like this too?" she asked Luan Nian afterward.

"No. Yours is within the department, and it depends on your department’s style."

Shang Zhitao stared at the single page of her performance review report and felt it was utterly terrible. Luan Nian picked up his laptop and walked out, leaving Shang Zhitao to think independently. Sometimes, sex wasn’t that important—like now. Compared to sex, Luan Nian would rather Shang Zhitao finish her dreadful performance review report.

Shang Zhitao stayed up late and didn’t wake up until noon on Saturday. Luan Nian was working out. She usually left after getting up on Saturdays. In the first two months, Luan Nian was often still asleep when she left—he only slept in on weekends. But at some point, he started waking up a bit earlier on weekends.

He would occasionally ask Shang Zhitao, "Something urgent?"

Shang Zhitao was too embarrassed to say she was studying and didn’t want to reveal her private life to Luan Nian, so she would say, "I’m meeting my roommate for a meal."

"Every week?"

"Yeah. Aren’t you too?"

But today, she hesitated a little. They hadn’t done anything the night before—nothing at all—so her reason for being there seemed to vanish. Luan Nian put down the equipment to wipe off his sweat, saw Shang Zhitao standing at the door, and said calmly, "If you’re not in a hurry to leave, wait a bit. I’ll help you rehearse your performance review."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Shang Zhitao was a bit surprised that Luan Nian had offered to help her rehearse. Their dynamic had always been her asking and him answering—he rarely took the initiative.

"Could you take a look at my content first?" Shang Zhitao felt a bit uneasy. After sitting in on yesterday’s review meeting, she felt what she had written was as good as garbage. She could imagine the expression on Luan Nian’s face when he saw it.

"Send it to me." Luan Nian picked up a towel and headed toward the elevator. "But you’ll have to wait for me to take a shower and make something to eat first."

"I can cook!" Shang Zhitao raised her hand, volunteering eagerly. She felt that since she couldn't cook and always ate meals prepared by Luan Nian, it made her feel ashamed. So she had deliberately learned a few dishes from Sun Yu.

"Then go ahead."

"I won't burn your kitchen this time," Shang Zhitao vowed confidently.

While Luan Nian was showering, she went down to the kitchen on the first floor. Seeing how well-stocked Luan Nian's refrigerator was, she realized she had only dared to cook noodles before. But this time, she was determined to make a proper bowl of tomato and egg noodle soup to redeem herself.

When Luan Nian came downstairs after his shower, he saw Shang Zhitao carefully arranging the dish with her pinky finger raised. He walked over to take a look and noticed she had even paid attention to color coordination, improving the presentation significantly compared to last time.

However, it looked better than it tasted. After taking a bite, Luan Nian frowned. Seeing Shang Zhitao watching him expectantly, he simply said, "Don't cook next time."

Shang Zhitao took a bite herself—it tasted as if she had swallowed a spoonful of salt. Too embarrassed to spit it out, she forced it down. Luan Nian sighed, got up, rinsed the noodles with water, added two spoonfuls of sauce from a jar, and reluctantly ate it.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Shang Zhitao said to Luan Nian, "I'm just not skilled enough yet. With more practice, I should be able to cook well."

"Did you eat noodles like this all through college? For four years?"

"Maybe the cooking tools have changed..."

"Is it so hard to admit you have no talent for cooking?"

"Oh."

They bickered through the meal, and afterward, Luan Nian took Shang Zhitao through a practice session.

Shang Zhitao was only going from Level 2 to Level 3, an internal departmental review that was mostly a formality. Whether she passed or not depended on Alex. But since Alex had given her the Suzhou project, his attitude was clear—she would pass this time.

Luan Nian knew this well but said nothing. Sooner or later, Shang Zhitao would face tougher competition, and starting to practice now wasn't a bad thing.

He asked her, "Why did you choose this supplier for Suzhou?"

And then, "What do you think is your biggest improvement and gain since joining Lingmei this year?"

"Do you have any confusion or dissatisfaction with your current work?"

"Do you think the current market strategy is correct? Does it need adjustment?"

None of these were questions a Level 2 employee typically needed to consider, but Luan Nian asked them seriously. Shang Zhitao had no experience with such reviews and was caught off guard by each question. Her mind couldn't keep up with Luan Nian's pace, and by the end, she felt somewhat discouraged.

"Scared?"

Shang Zhitao nodded. "I'm nervous." She thought Luan Nian would tell her to just give up if she was nervous—he often spoke that way. But surprisingly, he was unusually lenient: "If you're nervous, practice more."

"If you're nervous, practice more." Did that sound like something Luan Nian would say? He even added, "Prepare well. If you're going to win, win beautifully."

Shang Zhitao glanced at him, and Luan Nian stood up, asking, "Want to go eat fish?"

"Didn't we just eat lunch?"

"That was just to fill the stomach," Luan Nian said, picking up his car keys. "We can also check on how the bar construction is going."

"Then I'll go too."

They rarely spent weekends together, and Shang Zhitao still had many questions about the promotion she wanted to ask Luan Nian. Using the fish dinner as an excuse, she got into the car. Luan Nian had said he would demolish and rebuild that area, and sure enough, it had been torn down and was being rebuilt.

They drove up the mountain, and Shang Zhitao rolled down the car window to let the mountain breeze in. Luan Nian’s phone rang, and he casually hung up. The caller tried again, and Shang Zhitao lowered her gaze slightly, catching sight of the name "Zang Yao" on the screen.

As if she had seen something she shouldn’t have, she quickly looked away.