For certain complex reasons, Chen An had taken over this cinema, but he’d never planned to worry about the operating costs of a mere cinema. He’d always adhered to the principle of leaving professional matters to professionals. After taking over, he hadn’t changed anything and generously paid a consultation fee, just waiting for the cinema chain to send someone to uniformly reorganize things. Originally, he’d only planned to attend this one meeting, introduce the person, and be done with it. But Cheng Lele had appeared out of nowhere, and this matter had become somewhat complicated.

The employees looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn’t call any of them by name. The management personnel had all jumped ship before the takeover. During this transitional month, he’d been practicing anarchism.

He randomly called on someone—it happened to be Shen Dafeng. “Is everyone here?”

Ma Yiting ran out to answer first. “Everyone’s here.”

Chen An glanced at Ma Yiting, then looked at Shen Dafeng. “We have child labor here?”

Ma Yiting: …

Without waiting for Ma Yiting to speak, Chen An rolled up his sleeves and said, “Well, if everyone’s here, let’s begin. Let me introduce everyone—this is Cheng Lele from Tongda Cinema Chain who’s come to provide support. Today I’m formally appointing her as manager here, fully responsible for the cinema’s operations.”

Cheng Lele: …

The company’s dispatch contract clearly stated support for the cinema manager’s work… But whatever. She’d just consider it a promotion and raise.

Everyone was in an uproar, especially that initial group who were particularly noisy about it.

“From now on, if you have any issues, report to her.” Chen An added.

To be honest, given the workload Chen An usually handled and the project funds involved, his attendance at a mere cinema’s morning meeting already seemed like a waste of life. He didn’t plan to waste more words in such an occasion. After bluntly announcing the personnel change, he looked at Cheng Lele. “If you have anything to say, tell me separately. I’m about done. You take over.”

Cheng Lele: …

Cheng Lele had thought Chen An would say something more, at least briefly introduce her background to help everyone understand and support her. But it was entirely possible that after urging her to send her resume, Chen An had no interest in opening it, or perhaps after reading it, he found it mediocre, or more likely, out of resentment toward her, he’d hastily announced this unilateral decision. Cheng Lele leaned toward the latter.

Having a leader who didn’t recognize her abilities and carried personal emotions would make the work ahead extremely difficult.

Nevertheless, Cheng Lele’s mood was fairly good.

Originally, she’d worried that Chen An would notify Tongda to replace her because of past events. Now the cinema’s situation was terrible, urgently needing someone to intervene and save it. In the short term, Chen An probably couldn’t find someone willing to stay in an eighteenth-tier county city at a company facing closure at any moment, who also had certain experience and professional capabilities. Tongda might not be able to immediately dispatch replacement personnel either. If things dragged on, the cinema would really be in dire straits.

Fortunately, Chen An hadn’t acted on emotion and had even used a more aggressive method to let her play a more important role. Even if he appeared reluctant and unwilling, it at least showed that Cheng Lele was someone Chen An currently needed. During the most familiar eighteen years, it had always been Cheng Lele who needed Chen An, and Chen An had always been by her side. Now the positions were reversed—of course she would do everything in her power to protect what was his.

Since both sides had reached a consensus not to be disturbed by past events and to continue mutual cooperation, her older brother’s decisive approach was understandable. Indeed, there was no point in empty formalities right now—that energy would be better spent on getting work done properly.

Cheng Lele asked Chen An, “Do I have authority over personnel matters?”

Chen An didn’t understand why, but he nodded.

After getting confirmation, Cheng Lele turned to face everyone. “As a newcomer, I don’t have anything nice to give you all, so I’ll give you some stir-fried squid to try.” As she spoke, she walked among the crowd and began pointing at people. “You, you, you, you—” She paused when she reached Ma Yiting. Sigh, the young girl was quite pretty, really a bit reluctant. “And you, are immediately fired by the company. Since the accountant is also here, go settle your wages afterward.”

As she spoke, as if remembering something, she walked to Chen An’s side, turned her back to the others, stood on tiptoe, leaned close to him and whispered, “Can we still pay out wages?”

Chen An smelled the familiar milky scent on Cheng Lele. He was distracted for a moment and looked down at her.

Seeing Chen An’s reaction, Cheng Lele’s eyes widened in alarm. “No way, we can’t even pay five people’s wages?”

Chen An said somewhat dazedly, “Should be able to.”

He hadn’t really paid attention to the cinema’s accounts. If there wasn’t enough money, the accountant would ask him for it.

Upon hearing this, Cheng Lele’s expression looked unpleasant. She thought that her older brother had taken over the cinema for over a month but didn’t even know the accounts clearly, which was vastly different from his previous elite demeanor. She privately speculated whether her older brother, because she’d left without a word back then—heartbroken, combined with the double blow from his parents—had drowned his sorrows in alcohol and drunk himself stupid.

That small clique, being completely wiped out at once, naturally had to resist. “Why should we have to leave just because you arrived?”

Cheng Lele’s eyes swept over them, completely changing from her earlier smiling tiger expression. “You still have the nerve to ask why? Do you want me to go inventory the stockroom right now and pull up the surveillance footage to cross-check everything? After checking, it won’t be a matter of the company paying you wages, but how much you’ll have to compensate the company. Do you want me to check?”

The few people fell silent and shuffled toward the accounting office pushing and shoving each other.

Chen An was stunned for a moment.

He’d actually never really seen Cheng Lele being ruthless. In eighteen years of intimate life together, Cheng Lele had always been the soft, delicate little girl who pursued romance. It wasn’t until seven years ago, at that street corner coffee shop, that he first experienced her cold and stern side. Even now, he had a sense of temporal dislocation, always feeling that the her from that day was more like being possessed by a demon—otherwise, how could a person’s personality change so drastically overnight?

Perhaps there was some grievance or misunderstanding? Perhaps there was a reason she had to suddenly leave?

This was the bit of fantasy he’d clung to over the years. In the end, the fantasy had been sculpted by time and petrified into firm willpower, supporting him through these years.

But now, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

If this matter today had been done by anyone else from Tongda, he might have appreciated their decisive and bold action. But when it was Cheng Lele, his mindset was completely different. Right now, she’d cut down five people without batting an eye, as if confirming that when she steeled her heart to do something, she was just this cold and ruthless. Seven years ago had been the same. There was no room for fantasy.

Chen An even felt a kind of shared adversity resonance with those fired incompetents.

The new boss’s first employee meeting concluded amid a bloodbath.

As soon as Cheng Lele turned around, she saw Chen An walking out. His retreating figure was shrouded in a cloud of darkness.

“Where are you going?” She still had many things to discuss with him.

Chen An was in a foul mood and said without turning back, “Going home to catch up on sleep.”

“…”

Cheng Lele chased after him. “General Manager Chen, wait a moment.”

Chen An stopped impatiently. “What is it?”

Cheng Lele’s phone rang. Looking down, it was Tong Zhe again.

Cheng Lele was annoyed to death and hung up. Just as she opened her mouth, the ringtone sounded again. In a fit of anger, she simply turned off her phone.

All of this fell into Chen An’s eyes.

Who was Tong Zhe?

Seven years was too long. There were too many people and things between them that he didn’t know about. Every unknown person, every unknown matter touched Chen An’s sensitive nerves.

In less than twelve hours since encountering Cheng Lele, Chen An had felt suddenly happy, suddenly panicked, suddenly angry, suddenly afraid—experiencing all four seasons within twelve hours. His mind was restless, suffering from gains and losses, his heart crumpled full of wrinkles. He was completely like someone mentally ill. Even he himself felt he needed a tranquilizer.

Right now he didn’t know how to face Cheng Lele normally. He felt at a loss in a way that didn’t match his age and experience.

The phone finally quieted down.

Cheng Lele looked up and asked, “When do you have time to hold a meeting with me?” There were thousands of threads to handle. Work had to race against time. Since her older brother had entrusted her with this responsibility, once she confirmed the general direction with him, she’d have to get started without stopping.

Chen An’s mind was full of romantic feelings, but hearing her be so selflessly devoted to public duty made him even angrier, and his voice rose quite a bit. “I already gave you all the authority just now, what meeting is there to hold!”

Apart from that one cold war when they were young, Cheng Lele had never been yelled at by Chen An. Hearing him speak so loudly, she froze for a moment.

The two stood at the cinema entrance. The draft blew through with a whoosh, a bit cold. Cheng Lele was only wearing a short-sleeved shirt. Blown by the wind, she shrank her neck.

Chen An was angry, but his feet had their own free will. He moved a bit to the side, blocking the draft, and said, “Yes, we should hold a meeting to make things clear. Back then—”

His Adam’s apple rolled. The other party was calmly handling business matters, while he was like a bitter wife clinging to the past, desperate for an explanation.

Cheng Lele suddenly understood the reason Chen An had stopped.

Back then, she’d personally built a high wall between them, personally announced that they would never see each other again. And now, she’d come back when she wanted, met with him when she wanted, without mentioning what happened back then at all. It was her being thick-skinned, and it was her bullying him. Even so, her older brother hadn’t bullied her, hadn’t humiliated her, hadn’t mocked her. In this world, she could never find anyone better to her than her older brother.

Cheng Lele’s heart was full of bitterness. She tugged at Chen An’s sleeve, head lowered, voice suppressed, like a criminal submitting to punishment. “Older brother, back then I acted foolishly. Please forgive me.”