The business card was simple yet far from shoddy—the paper quality and font had been carefully selected, clearly not the cheap kind from a random print shop.
When Zhou Zhuofei first joined the administrative department, she had been responsible for arranging employee business cards. The company had different specifications and budgets for cards based on job levels, so she had done extensive research back then, learning about various paper types and printing techniques. Even with her amateurish knowledge, she could tell this card wasn’t cheap.
After Zhou Zhuofei accepted the card, the other person apologized again before leaving. They had barely taken a few steps before breaking into a run, clearly in a genuine hurry.
Once the stranger was out of sight, Zhou Zhuofei tucked the card away. Her tote bag had been a random online purchase for work, inexpensive and already worn after half a year of use, with minor scuffs here and there. She couldn’t even tell if the damage was from the earlier incident.
But she didn’t bother inspecting it closely—as long as the bag was still functional, that was enough. As for contacting the person? Completely unnecessary.
Still, the encounter amused her. She had just been complaining about how stagnant her life felt, and now this little incident popped up.
The weather was neither too cold nor too hot—only fashion-conscious trendsetters or people who hadn’t washed their hair the day before would wear hats.
Could they actually be some celebrity?
But celebrities wouldn’t carry business cards around, would they?
The more Zhou Zhuofei thought about it, the weirder it seemed. Eventually, she couldn’t resist looking up "Jiang Shen" on her phone, but no useful results came up. Maybe she was overthinking it.
With afternoon tea time approaching, Zhou Zhuofei called Zhan Zilang to head downstairs for work.
The entire building belonged to Huanyu Group. Beyond office spaces, there were other designated areas—like the exhibition zone on the fourth floor and the lounge on the fourteenth, where employees could enjoy high-rise views while having their tea.
Those who preferred staying put could collect their snacks on their own floor and eat at their desks.
Organizing and distributing afternoon tea was part of Zhou Zhuofei’s routine duties, so every few days, she’d check in to gather feedback on the experience.
They arrived early, and the lounge was still relatively empty. As Zhou Zhuofei checked the inventory list, she noticed Zhan Zilang standing idly by and asked, "Want a task?"
"Of course!" Zhan Zilang perked up. "What is it?"
Zhou Zhuofei casually pointed at a tray of cupcakes. "Try one. Tell me how it tastes."
"Huh?" Zhan Zilang stared, baffled. "That’s the task?"
"Why not? We’re responsible for our colleagues’ taste buds too," she said matter-of-factly.
Under her urging, Zhan Zilang reluctantly picked up a cupcake and took a bite.
"Well?"
The next second, his face twisted slightly. Zhou Zhuofei didn’t need further explanation. "Not good?"
Zhan Zilang hesitated, trying to soften the blow. "It’s... fine." Remembering his lackluster performance the day before, he steeled himself and shoved the rest of the cupcake into his mouth, chewing hastily before swallowing.
The cloying sweetness hit him like a truck. Zhou Zhuofei immediately handed him a bottle of tea to wash it down.
"If you don’t like it, you didn’t have to force yourself."
She had meant to say that earlier, but Zhan Zilang had acted too fast.
He grinned sheepishly. "Wasting food just feels wrong."
The remark made Zhou Zhuofei reassess him slightly.
Setting aside his work attitude, Zhan Zilang had a decent personality and was easy on the eyes. If she didn’t overthink it, the next month would pass smoothly.
After finishing inventory, they sat in a corner, waiting for colleagues to collect their tea. With nothing else to do, they struck up a conversation.
Work was too dull, and personal lives too private—so they landed on their shared hobby: gaming.
To Zhou Zhuofei’s surprise, Zhan Zilang turned out to be a hardcore gamer. Both had been into it for years, and their opinions on certain topics aligned almost eerily.
This instantly made Zhan Zilang feel closer to her.
What could be better than finding a fellow enthusiast in a new environment?
He sighed. "But Zhou-jie, it’s rare to meet girls who love gaming as much as you."
Zhou Zhuofei arched a brow. "Don’t tell me you’re pulling the stereotype card?"
How could someone so young have such outdated thinking?
Zhan Zilang hurriedly backtracked. "No, no! Just an observation. None of my friends play games—it’s hard to find people offline who do. That’s all!"
"So what do your friends like? Clubbing? Shopping? Vacations?"
Realizing how judgmental that sounded, Zhou Zhuofei promptly apologized.
"Sorry, I just stereotyped you too. In my limited worldview, I assumed rich people all live like that."
"Honestly, you’re not entirely wrong. A lot of them do..." Zhan Zilang trailed off, then blinked. "Wait, what rich people?"
"People like you," Zhou Zhuofei said, watching his expression shift to oh no, she knows. She rolled her eyes. "Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?"
"Honestly, yeah. I thought I was being pretty low-key." Zhan Zilang scratched his head. He had felt guilty about leveraging connections to join the company and had tried to keep a low profile.
After Zhou Zhuofei’s reaction yesterday, he’d even thought his act was convincing.
And now, just like that, the jig was up. He wracked his brain—where had he slipped?
"You are low-key, but money doesn’t lie." Zhou Zhuofei tapped her wrist pointedly.
Zhan Zilang looked down at his watch. "But this isn’t even that expensive."
"How many people in our department wear watches?" She held up her own bare wrist. "An intern rotating through different watches? Not to mention how obviously pricey that suit is."
"Oh."
Zhan Zilang was genuinely impressed. He’d never interacted much with "ordinary" people and had little frame of reference.
"Does everyone else know too?"
Zhou Zhuofei didn’t answer directly, just gave him a knowing look that said, What do you think?
Zhan Zilang deflated. "Alright, fine. Zhou-jie, can I be honest about something?"
"Go ahead."
"That cupcake was really awful." Just recalling the taste made his brows knit together.
Zhou Zhuofei couldn’t help but laugh. "I could tell ages ago."
"I’ve never had a cake this bad in my life," Zhan Zilang muttered under his breath.
By now, the break area had filled with quite a few employees, and Zhou Zhuofei quickly hushed him. "Keep your voice down."
Realizing his slip, Zhan Zilang promptly shut his mouth.
Fortunately, their spot was far enough from the snack counter that their conversation went mostly unnoticed.
Employees streamed in for afternoon tea, filling the once-empty lounge to near half-capacity. Many greeted Zhou Zhuofei as they passed, tossing in a request or two—like how the oranges lately were too sour, or how they’d prefer tiramisu over cupcakes. Everyone had an opinion.
Zhan Zilang felt his head spinning just listening. Yet Zhou Zhuofei not only took each comment seriously but also responded thoughtfully, even striking up brief conversations. If it were him, he’d probably short-circuit trying to keep up.
At that moment, he couldn’t help but regard her with newfound respect.
"Zhou-jie, you’re seriously amazing!"
"Just doing my job. If you’re serious about this role, it’s the bare minimum. But if you’re just here to coast through the month, then by all means, take it easy—no one in the department will give you a hard time."
"I’m not here to slack off. I actually want to do something meaningful."
As they chatted, a sudden commotion rose from the crowd nearby.
Zhou Zhuofei turned to look and spotted Xiao Wang entering, greeted by a chorus of hellos from the staff.
When she glanced back at Zhan Zilang, she caught him staring too—only for him to quickly avert his gaze and feign nonchalance the second he noticed her watching.
How obvious can you get?
She suppressed an eye-roll and said, "If you know him, go say hi. No need to pretend you don’t."