Li Ruoyu had placed her phone on the bedside table, and it vibrated three times before she lazily reached out her arms from under the cover. She picked up the phone, held it up before her eyes, and glanced at the screen to check who was calling. At that moment, her slightly pale countenance suddenly took on a slightly healthier glow.
"How did you know my phone number?" Passing Rain demanded after she answered the call, skipping over all the necessary greetings and salutations.
"Erm…" Feng Bujue was stumped. He paused for a few seconds before he managed to answer with a question of his own. "I say… how did you know it was me?"
"It was Soulie…pfft…" Passing Rain managed to answer as she sniffled onto a napkin. One would not expect a lady like her to do something like that. She tossed the napkin away before continuing in a heavily nasal voice, "There was this one time when she accidentally let it slip, and I've accidentally memorized it. That is how I knew it was you."
"Just how careless could she be? How could she casually say all eleven numbers at once?" Feng Bujue said with a smile. "And you somehow managed to 'accidentally' memorize it," he continued with a mocking tone. He could not help but tease her. After a few pointless and meaningless exchanges, both of them had come up with a conclusion: Feng Bujue had gotten Passing Rain's number from Xiao Tan, and Passing Rain had gotten Feng Bujue's number after Laughing Soul had casually mentioned it, and she had saved it on her phone.
However, why would both Xiao Tan and Laughing Soul know everything? Obviously, it was because they both knew that Feng Bujue and Passing Rain had gotten close and were slowly building a relationship. They knew that the two would talk to each other outside of the game. They had just started to build their relationship, and in consideration of the readers, I feel that as an author, it is my responsibility to safeguard their feelings.
"So why are you calling me?" Passing Rain asked in a straightforward manner. It was a signal for Feng Bujue to change the subject. As a gentleman, Brother Jue naturally let it slide and decided to answer in a more genuine tone. He smiled and said, "I'm just calling to check up on you. I heard that you have fallen sick."
In other words, I am worried about you.
Passing Rain replied, "My fever ran high last night, but it is already noontime, and if anything serious had happened to me, your call would have been too late. I probably would have died already."
I am doing quite well. Thank you for your concern.
Feng Bujue answered, "I couldn't help it. When I saw Xiao Tan's message, it was already midnight. The kid was inside the game at the time, and I had no way of reaching you until he finished his game. Besides, even if I did have your phone number, it would not have been appropriate to call an ailing patient in the middle of the night."
Actually, I've been meaning to call you much sooner, but I was afraid of disrupting your rest.
Passing Rain coldly replied, "Oh, okay then."
I can't say that I do not appreciate your consideration.
"Hmm…" Feng Bujue did not know what to say. Therefore, what followed was a rather short but quite awkward silence. By the way, the content in the brackets were the actual words that these two socially inept people were intending to express.
It was Feng Bujue who broke the silence. "Since you are recovering already, after you feel much better, I will see you in the game then," he said.
"Okay," Passing Rain answered. She then paused for two seconds before she continued, "Thank you for calling me. Goodbye."
"Goodbye," Feng Bujue replied. The two practically hung up at the same time.
"Phew…" Feng Bujue gave off a very long sigh and placed his phone on the coffee table. He then stood up from the sofa to stretch lazily. "What was that strange atmosphere and tension between us during the phone call? That felt much more tiring compared to killing monsters in the game." Suddenly, the interphone system by the door suddenly rang.
"Hmm? I don't think I've ordered take out," Feng Bujue mumbled as he walked to the door. He picked up the phone and asked, "Who is this?"
The voice on the other end belonged to a young woman. "Hello. I am looking for Mr. Feng Bujue." The voice was very unfamiliar, and Feng Bujue was sure that was the first time he had heard it.
"Speaking. Do you mind telling me who you are?" Feng Bujue asked.
"My surname is An. I am your new editor, and I have something work-related that I need to discuss with you," the woman replied.
A new editor? Feng Bujue was confused. "What happened to Ol' Chen? He…"
The woman interrupted him. "Do you mind if we continue this conversation face to face?"
"Oh, of course. I am sorry. Please wait for a moment." Feng Bujue soon realized how rude it was of him to converse with the girl like that and have her wait at the front door, so he pressed the button to allow her to enter the building. Two minutes later, Miss An was on the elevator heading up to his floor. Feng Bujue waited behind the door. He was watching the corridor through the peephole, so before Miss An walked to his door to press the doorbell, he had already pulled the door open for her.
"Good afternoon, Bujue. I am your new editor, An Yueqin." An Yueqin had read about Feng Bujue when she was at the office. She could recognize the young man who opened the door as 'Bujue,' so she began by introducing herself. As Feng Bujue shook her hand, he studied her countenance and overall appearance. This Miss An looked like she was about 25. She had a cute and fresh face, she wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses, and her hair was held in a bun behind her head. Her frame was on the slender side, but she was also quite tall. She appeared to be at least 1.7 meters or taller. She wore a formal skirt, a white pressed shirt, and a dark jacket. The length of the skirt and the fit of the shirt overall made her look like a professional.
"Nice to meet you, nice to meet you," Feng Bujue said. "Please come in." He led An Yueqin inside, and as he was about to close the door, he said, "Please take a seat anywhere, but be careful of the cat." An Yueqin took a long look around the room before she walked to the sofa to sit down.
"Do you wish for anything to drink?" Feng Bujue asked her.
"I do not wish to trouble you," Miss An replied. She originally wanted to say, "I do not wish to trouble you, but a glass of water would be fine."
Feng Bujue took her politeness at face value and cheerily said, "That would be great!" He slumped onto the sofa and asked, "By the way, what happened to Ol' Chen?"
An Yueqin replied, "He quit."
"Huh? How is that possible? What were his reasons?" Feng Bujue asked persistently.
"He was under too much pressure," An Yueqin answered.
"How could he quit his job just like that? He did not even come to tell me about it first," Feng Bujue said resentfully.
An Yueqin fired a searing glance at him and said, "That is because you are the reason he felt so pressured."
"Huh? What's wrong with me?"
"That is why I am here. I have something important to discuss with you," An Yueqin answered in a serious tone. Ever since she stepped into the room, she had maintained an expression of severity and austerity. Even though she could not be that much older than Feng Bujue, her presence was at least twice as oppressive as that of Feng Bujue's old editor, Ol' Chen.
"But first, there is something about me that I believe I should reveal to you as a sign of good faith," An Yueqin said as she checked through her phone. She opened a search engine and keyed in a few words. She turned her phone screen to Feng Bujue to show a website. She said, "As you can see here, I am the granddaughter of the chairman of the Luminous Concept Group."
Naturally, Feng Bujue had heard of the Luminous Concept Group before. It was synonymous to business empires like Windows or Apple. And the webpage that Feng Bujue was looking at was the top search result for the words that Miss An had typed in 'granddaughter of the chairman of the Luminous Concept Group'.
Feng Bujue nodded to himself and said, "Wow…you're not joking. So, in other words, I am your employee here… An employee of a publication group that belongs to a subsidiary company…which is under the parent company of whom your grandfather is the chairman of. Is that the situation here?"
"Not only that, do not forget that most of your previously published works were released through this subsidiary company that you have just mentioned," An Yueqin said.
Feng Bujue laughed and said, "Looks like my life depends wholly on Luminous Concept Group." Feng Bujue smiled and continued, "Then should I refer to you as… Madam An?"
"Au contraire. The reason I am telling you my real identity is because I hope that you won't treat me differently," An Yueqin said.
"Hmm… you're right. However, even if you hadn't told me, with my personality, I would have found out soon. If that had happened, my attitude toward you would definitely change," Feng Bujue guiltlessly admitted. "Instead of having things go that way, why not start everything with an open book?"
"Yes, so please treat me as a normal editor who is new to the job," An Yueqin said.
"I will try my best," Feng Bujue said lazily. Internally, he was contemplating. What exactly is this girl's plan? It seems that the chairman let his granddaughter start at the lower level to train her and to allow her to experience firsthand the most basic duties and tasks that come with being an employee of the company.
"Very well then," An Yueqin continued. "Let us get back to business." At this point, she took out from her purse a copy of a magazine and placed it on the coffee table.
"Erm… You are not here to critique the manuscript that I handed in last month, right?" Feng Bujue asked cautiously.
"Of course not." An Yueqin pointed to the magazine and said, "I merely wish to know if you have ever purchased or read our magazine before."
Feng Bujue was brutally honest. "Before I signed the contract with the magazine and at the start of the serialization, I bought a few copies. However, I haven't been reading them for more than half a year already, I believe."
"Then please take this opportunity and leaf through it." If An Yueqin had known about Brother Jue's 'illness,' she would not have said something like that. Without saying another word, Feng Bujue picked up the magazine and started to read through the pages. Even though he was skilled at speed reading, it was impossible for him to finish the whole magazine in a few seconds. An Yueqin did not feel it right to interrupt him. After all, it was she who had asked him to read the magazine.
Feng Bujue leisurely read through the magazine in twenty minutes. He unceremoniously put down the magazine and said, "I'm done."
You're really 'done,' with not one page left unread. An Yueqin was pondering on it. However, she managed to ask, "Do you mind giving me your general impression of the magazine?"
Feng Bujue seemed to get the lady's intention already. He contemplated for a moment and said, "The paper and printing quality are not bad. It could be considered one of the best in the market. The pricing is reasonable and is pretty acceptable. The content is average, but half of the magazine content is taken up by advertisements. Any reader would probably feel like he has been cheated out of some valuable content."
"Yes, that is right," An Yueqin said. "My perception is similar to yours. Our hard copies sell much less than the electronic versions because there are too many advertisements, and it makes the readers feel like they didn't get what they paid for."
"But that is the nature of most published media these days. Without advertisements, the company wouldn't even get back the printing cost," Feng Bujue said.
"That's why we need to have a reform," An Yueqin said as she slammed the magazine on the table.
"That is something to be discussed with the management and sales team. Why are you discussing this with me?" Feng Bujue did not know whether to laugh or cry.
An Yueqin abruptly answered, "The fact that the people are not doing their work is none of my business, but as a member of the corporation, I cannot just let this problem pass."
"Okay." Feng Bujue smiled. "Then what do you plan to do?"
"It's not about what I plan to do," An Yueqin said. "I have already handed my proposal to the main editor's table. He has agreed to my proposal. Starting in May, our magazine will shift from a monthly release to a biweekly release."
"Have you ever thought about…" Feng Bujue paused for a while and continued, "Let's say you were just a regular employee on your first day. If you strode directly into the highest officer's office and slammed a proposal on his table, what would have happened?"
An Yueqin knew what Feng Bujue was insinuating, but she confidently replied, "The fact that the main editor accepted my proposal has nothing to do with my identity."
She sounded so sure of herself.
Feng Bujue laughed. In a serious but mocking tone, he said, "My dear friend, you might have been able to fool others, but can you fool yourself?"
An Yueqin leaned forward and stared at Feng Bujue with some degree of annoyance. "Bujue, I have read your work before. I could read the self-conceit between the lines. You think of yourself as a very cultured person, don't you?"
"Yes, I do," Feng Bujue answered as he leaned back on the sofa. "I know that I am a cultured person." He paused for several seconds and recited a poem. "I sing and the moon lingers, I dance and my shadow whirled under. In my sober moments, we rejoiced together. Once I am drunk, it is a company no longer. Such fellowship shall endure despite our parted ways. Only heaven knows when we shall come together again." Then, he picked up his cup of cold coffee and sipped from it like it was a glass of fine wine. "I made it up on the spot just for you. What do you think?"
An Yueqin was stumped. No one had ever written or composed a poem for her. She did not think she was the type who could inspire a man to come up with a poem for her. After a few seconds,, Feng Bujue laughed jokingly and said, "I'm just joking with you. That was from Li Bai's Drinking Alone Under the Moon."
An Yueqin felt her embarrassment turn into anger, and a light blush rose to her cheeks. "So you have just borrowed from the classics. What is so impressive about that?"
"That is where you are wrong." Feng Bujue corrected her. "In today's day and age, it is impressive to be born in a good family with a powerful background." He spread his arms and continued, "It is good that you wish others to not treat you differently despite your identity, but you should also change your attitude and working style. If you really wish to become a normal editor like Ol' Chen, then just focus on the work that is within your job scope. Do not worry about the things that should be handled by the chairman. That is called assumption of power, you know? If we were back in the olden days in ancient China, your whole family would have been decapitated. In present times, you could get fired, but we both know that will not happen to you."
Feng Bejue continued, "And what do you mean by 'The fact that the people are not doing their work is none of my business, but as a member of the corporation, I cannot just let this problem pass"? If you had thought about it first, you should have realized that you had no right to say that. Even if it were true, that should not have come out of your mouth, because that basically implied that the other department leaders are being blind and idiotic. Do you still want this job or not?"
Feng Bujue's attitude could not have been more rude and brash even if he tried. He continued, "Finally, I have one last friendly advice for you. When you leaned over earlier, I could tell that the perfume you are wearing is an expensive one. That scent seems to say, 'Get away from me. I am from a better background than you.' If you do not wish to be ostracized at work, this is my advice. Be kinder to others during everyday interactions, wear something more casual in the future, wear a cheaper perfume, and drive a less expensive car to work. And most importantly, do not sell people out behind their back."
An Yueqin listened to Feng Bujue, and her expression shifted within a few moments. The impressive presence that she had when she first entered the room fully disappeared. She felt like an intern being scolded by her superior.
An Yueqin waited for a long time before she spoke. "Are you done?" Her expression was rather complicated. She looked like she was about to explode, but at the same time, she felt wronged.
"I am almost done. Don't be mad at me. It was you who asked me to treat you as a normal editor," Feng Bujue said with wicked pride. "If you change your mind now and wish for me to treat you as the granddaughter of the chairman, I will fully understand."
This time, An Yueqin completely ignored him, and she quickly returned to the business at hand. "Starting this May, the magazine will turn into a bi-weekly publication. Therefore, including yourself, all contracted authors will have to hand in an extra thirty percent of content, and they will have to…hand…in…their…manuscript…on…time!" She made sure to get her point across by pausing between every single word.
Feng Bujue swallowed a mouthful of saliva and his face blanched with shock. The order was like a claim for his life.
At this point, An Yueqin stood up and said, "Your manuscript is very well done, and your story is very popular among the readers. Your only problem is missing the deadline. From this month onward, I will make sure you will hand in your manuscript according to the date on the contract. If you fail to comply, our lawyer will contact you." She then walked to the door and reached out toward the doorknob to open it. Feng Bujue quickly slithered over toward her, and in one smooth motion, went down on his knees. "Madam An, please! Can't we talk this over some more? I am sure we can discuss something to compromise? I really cannot…"
An Yueqin had already stepped out the door by then. Seeing Brother Jue shamelessly begging for reconsideration as he knelt, her mood suddenly improved again. She felt like smiling, but she tried her best to keep a stern face as she said seriously, "I will come back on the fifteenth of May. By then, I hope the manuscript for June will be ready. If there is anything else you need to talk to me about, you can contact me by email. My email address hasn't changed." She hesitated for a while, but she said, "Hmm…thank you and goodbye." Then, she turned to leave.
That day An Yueqin came to visit was the twentieth of April, and there were twenty-five days more until the next deadline. Feng Bujue actually had more than enough time to finish it or work something out. However, he had a bad work habit of dragging things out, especially when it came to writing. Except during moments when he suddenly feels inspired to write, he viewed manuscript submissions the same way a primary school student viewed his summer homework: not urgent and something he could delay. In July, he wouldn't start working because the holiday has just begun. He would decide to work in August. When August arrived, he would delay working on anything thinking he still had one more month to go. He will then decide to wait until the middle of the month to start writing. Finally, in the middle of the month, he would delay everything again until the end of the month. At the end of the month, he would be counting down the days until the deadline. If he had five more days left, he wouldn't worry. If he had three more days left, he would shrug it off and say, "It's fine, it's fine."
This would happen until the very last moment. Normally, the night before school begins, he would panic and be in emergency mode. He would get his homework done overnight, while burning the midnight oil.
Even when Feng Bujue was just a primary school student, he had already viewed such things differently. He had always believed that homework given during the summer and winter holidays were a bunch of bullsh*t on which they were meant to waste their time and youth.
Assigning homework was something the teachers took seriously, but they were not as passionate in checking and reviewing their students' submissions. They would either skip over the homework completely or assign two representatives, often the class monitor and vice class monitor, to help them review the students' homework submissions. It was not surprising, especially because each class had more than twenty students. Every student would hand in a whole stack of holiday homework, and if the teachers went through everything faithfully and seriously, page by page, they would have to work for so many days. By Teacher's Day, they would not have finished even half of the stack.
Because of this, students were not as faithful in doing their homework. Some believed they should make the most out of their holidays and vacations, while some would do their homework haphazardly, submitting simply because it was part of their syllabus. Besides, it would only happen twice every year.
To be frank, holiday homework was something the school would impose on their students to show that they were responsible. To Feng Bujue, they were technically meaningless trash. Studious students did not need to rely on them to become smarter, and those who did not like to study would not find joy in studying them. The whole system was like a giant bubble that materialized on top of the sh*thole that was the education system which, even in present times, was still predominant.
To make matters worse, there were teachers who thought too highly of themselves. They would add more homework on top of the holiday homework. Feng Bujue believed that such teachers either led a miserable life or lacked a viable channel on which to vent their frustrations.
