Once Shang Zhitao had the idea to learn driving, she immediately decided to do it. She used the money Old Shang gave her to register at a driving school. Sun Yuanzhu accompanied her.

Sun Yuanzhu was truly a good young man—clean-cut, gentle, with an attentive and friendly gaze. Shang Zhitao felt that under Sun Yuanzhu’s gaze, she could expand into a cloud.

“I can accompany you to learn to drive on weekends. I have nothing else to do anyway,” Sun Yuanzhu proposed, somewhat concerned about Shang Zhitao.

“You could hang out with your classmates, those cute classmates of yours.”

“It won’t affect anything. We usually meet in the afternoon.”

“Oh, okay.” Shang Zhitao felt somewhat grateful to Sun Yuanzhu. He was always helping her, yet he was completely unaware of it.

“Driving instructors aren’t very polite when they speak. Each time you go, buy a bottle of water for the instructor, or bring a pack of cigarettes. Don’t take it personally when they speak harshly.” Sun Yuanzhu advised her. When he was learning to drive, the instructor had said countless harsh things. These instructors must have graduated from the same training program—their scolding words were identical. “When I was learning to drive, some female students were brought to tears by the instructors.”

“That sounds scary…”

Shang Zhitao treated Sun Yuanzhu to doenjang soup near his alma mater. Looking at the various people sitting around, she suddenly remembered she wanted to improve her English, so she asked Sun Yuanzhu: “Does your school have an English corner?”

“Why?”

Shang Zhitao told him about her improvement plan. She didn’t feel it was embarrassing. Sun Yuanzhu didn’t laugh at her; instead, he found her serious and progressive attitude adorable.

“Let me introduce you to a foreign teacher. Don’t go to an institution to learn; they’re expensive. This foreign teacher charges 30 yuan for forty minutes, paid per session. You can chat with him and ask him all sorts of questions. Several of my classmates who took the TOEFL were tutored by him.” Sun Yuanzhu pointed out a cost-effective and efficient path for Shang Zhitao. She nodded vigorously, amusing Sun Yuanzhu: “I hope your improvement plan succeeds.”

“It will.”

The foreign teacher Sun Yuanzhu lived in the student dormitory of his alma mater. He was an American exchange student, tall and well-built, with typical American features, speaking fluent Beijing dialect. He had given himself a Chinese name: Long Zhentian. Shang Zhitao pondered for a long time—Long Zhentian, hmm, good name. Foreign exchange students often gave themselves very down-to-earth Chinese names. Sometimes, if you suggested they change it, they would say: “Isn’t this very good?”

Long Zhentian asked Shang Zhitao: “What level do you want to reach?”

“I want to reach a level where I can understand all-English meetings without any barriers.”

“Then you’ll have to put in some effort.”

“I’ll trouble you.”

Shang Zhitao was led astray by Long Zhentian and unconsciously started speaking in Beijing dialect. All three of them burst into laughter. Long Zhentian enjoyed making friends. Shang Zhitao was cute, so he suggested they sit at a bar near the university that evening.

The area around their university was full of Koreans. The bar was lively, with people speaking English, Korean, a few speaking French, and most speaking Chinese—all sorts of people. It was Shang Zhitao’s first time in a bar. She found it novel and looked around. While looking to the right, she met a pair of cold eyes.

The world was truly small.

Wasn’t that Luke? He was sitting with several friends—three men and two women. The men were outstanding, and the women were beautiful. Shang Zhitao remembered his girlfriend in Guangzhou, looked at the woman before her, and smiled at him ingratiatingly.

Luan Nian looked away and continued talking to Tan Mian: “Setting off on Christmas, right?”

“Yes. Doesn’t your company give Christmas holidays?”

“Of course. Where are we going this year?”

“Let’s go to Hokkaido for hot springs. I’ve been too tired lately. Let’s choose somewhere not too far. We won’t go to America to see relatives—we’ll go back for Chinese New Year anyway. How does that sound?”

“Fine.”

“Can we come too?” the girl beside them asked.

“We never bring women on our annual trips.” Tan Mian smiled apologetically. But it wasn’t that they didn’t bring women—they brought Zang Yao. Luan Nian stood up: “I’m going to the restroom.”

The bar’s restroom was dim. Shang Zhitao came out and misstepped, almost falling to the ground, but was caught by a hand gripping her arm. She hurriedly thanked him: “Thank you, thank you.” Looking up, she saw Luan Nian.

“Come with me.”

Luan Nian left after saying this and turned to leave. Shang Zhitao followed him, and the two exited the bar one after another.

It was noisy outside. Luan Nian asked her with a cold face: “Have you finished the report?”

Shang Zhitao had been assigned homework on Friday. Alex had asked her to write an execution report for the joint project between the planning department and the marketing department, to be sent out on Sunday. Shang Zhitao had written most of it, with only the conclusion remaining. She could finish it tomorrow morning without any problem.

“Just need to write the conclusion.”

“You haven’t finished it, but you’re hanging out at bars?”

“I… I…”

“Have you done your research before coming to bars?”

“What?”

Luan Nian was going to be angered to death by her. What kind of place was a bar? Was it a place for brainless people like her to hang out? With two men? One of them a foreigner? Not even bringing her water? She had been in Beijing for just a few days and was already going with the flow?

But it wasn’t his business. He only cared about his report: “Send me the report by twelve tonight.”

“Wasn’t it supposed to be tomorrow?”

“If I say tomorrow, you wait until tomorrow? You don’t give me time to revise?”

“I’ll go back and revise it right away.”

It’s just because I caught you in the act, right? Making things difficult for me again. Shang Zhitao thought resentfully. She wasn’t sophisticated; she thought her thoughts were deeply hidden, but Luan Nian saw through them: “Are you cursing me in your mind?”

“No, no.” Shang Zhitao shook her head repeatedly, appearing even more guilty.

“There can’t be a single typo in the report.”

“Yes, yes, okay.” Shang Zhitao’s eyes sparkled in the summer night breeze as she looked at Luan Nian. Unconsciously, she said something foolish: “Don’t worry, Luke. I won’t say anything. I’ll keep your secrets.”

“What secrets?” Hearing her say this, Luan Nian put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the bar’s outer wall, looking at her with composure.

“Your… girlfriends…” She deliberately added an “s,” glancing nervously at Luan Nian. She also found herself strange—it was his promiscuity, not hers, so why was she nervous? Most likely, catching the boss’s weaknesses made her uneasy.

Luan Nian suddenly smiled, his lips moving slightly: “Fine, you keep my secrets. I have no other hobbies except for women. If others find out, I’ll find an excuse to fire you.”

“Rest assured!” Shang Zhitao hurriedly raised her finger to swear: “I guarantee with my character that I absolutely won’t tell anyone.” Her attitude was very sincere.

Idiot. Luan Nian cursed her in his mind, then turned to enter the bar.

“You were gone so long?”

“There was a line.” Luan Nian casually made up an excuse.

“Friend, I just went, and there wasn’t a single person in the restroom.” Tan Mian exposed him.

He didn’t explain, just sat there drinking and listening to music. Occasionally, he glanced at Shang Zhitao. She seemed fine, sitting there chatting and smiling, with no intention of leaving.

Shang Zhitao was talking with Long Zhentian when she sensed someone glaring at her, again and again—how annoying. She had to pull Sun Yuanzhu to say goodbye to Long Zhentian and leave the bar.

When she got home, she took a shower and started writing the report, sending it to Alex and Luan Nian at 11:55 PM, then sending each of them a message.

Alex was very surprised: “Sending it so early?”

“Giving the bosses time to revise.”

“It’s just to check the project progress, no need for revisions.”

…

Damn. That bastard Luan Nian. Shang Zhitao lay in bed angrily: That bar was so fun, and the singing was good, but that bastard Luke had driven her home with threats and intimidation.

After a long time, Luan Nian replied to her email with three points for improvement, yes, three points:

1. Add estimated recovery for each item in the project fund list—done before

2. Add project leader and assessment indicators for each subproject

3. Add emergencies and contingency plans

Send it to me tomorrow.

Shang Zhitao opened her report to check. She hadn’t written any of these things. Luan Nian’s suggestions were very pertinent. Though he was very unlikable, each suggestion he gave directly hit the mark, like a serious teacher who always produced high-scoring students.

She got up from bed and revised the report according to Luan Nian’s suggestions. She hadn’t realized that she had already become a workaholic. If there were pending tasks, she couldn’t sleep and would think about them repeatedly.

This revision took until 3 AM. She sent the email again, suddenly feeling unburdened. Just as she was about to close her eyes, she received a message from Luan Nian: “This is much better.”

This is much better.

Shang Zhitao felt somewhat happy. Being praised felt good. She replied: I will continue to work hard, thank you Luke.

She added: “Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”

Luan Nian replied: Nightlife.

Nightlife, my ass. He had left the bar and returned home with a designated driver. The small amount of alcohol he drank that night made him a bit excited, but also a bit bored. He watched some American TV shows and read for a while, but he just couldn’t sleep.

His only pleasure was correcting Shang Zhitao’s homework, knowing she would get up to finish the revisions. His terrible desire for control was fully exercised on Shang Zhitao. Suddenly, he felt that obedient women without much personality, like Shang Zhitao, were quite good.

Though Shang Zhitao was foolish, she had strong execution ability. In Tracy’s words: She had a sense of responsibility.

Her revised plan was still like shit, far from Luan Nian’s standards, but he replied: “This is much better.” Why? Perhaps to prevent an employee’s sudden death. A rare moment of mercy.

“Wow, nightlife. Then I won’t disturb you! Good night, Luke.”

The word “wow” was carefully chosen, rich in meaning. Luan Nian could even imagine Shang Zhitao’s gossipy face, and her face that couldn’t hide emotions at all, clearly writing: Tsk, tsk, clothes all off, huh?

Luan Nian, breaking precedent, replied: “Good night.” Then tossed his phone aside and went to sleep.

Shang Zhitao slept until noon. Remembering how Luan Nian had guided her in writing the report, she realized she hadn’t truly understood how to write reports, so she brought her laptop to the living room. Her roommates were chatting quietly. Seeing Shang Zhitao come out, they asked her: “You’re finally up.”

Shang Zhitao smiled sheepishly, put her computer on the table, turned to wash up, and only sat at the table after getting ready: “I’d like to ask you all for some advice.”

“What is it?” Zhang Ling asked her.

“I don’t know how to write work reports…” Shang Zhitao was a bit shy: “You all have more experience than I. Can you tell me how work reports should be written?” Shang Zhitao was shocked by her diligence and progress. If she had had this drive when studying, could she have gotten into a top university? Not studying hard and getting beaten in the workplace—didn’t that deserve?

Zhang Ling hurriedly raised his hands in surrender: “I can’t help with this. Your brother Yuanzhu can.”

“Anyone can help,” Shang Zhitao was humble and eager to learn, her sincere eyes looking at everyone: “I want to learn so many things. My path to improvement is still far ahead!”

Sun Yu, with a sales background, stood up and put her arm around Shang Zhitao’s shoulders: “How about sister teaches you to drink?”

Everyone burst out laughing.

The laughter in this room would be remembered for many, many years. Ten years later, thirty-two-year-old Shang Zhitao came to Beijing on business and specially arranged to have a drink with Sun Yu in this area. By then, Sun Yu had become a leader in the marriage and dating industry, with exquisite makeup, talking about investments worth tens of millions. After drinking too much, she pointed at the lights upstairs and said to Shang Zhitao: “Why don’t I buy this place?”

Let it be.

Shang Zhitao hugged her, and they cried loudly on the street of North Fifth Ring Road.