Chapter 39

“Tsk tsk tsk…” Zhou Andong sighed inwardly; even if he could only marry those legs and feet, his life would be worth it.

Women’s intuition is always sharp, especially beautiful ones; Jian Qiu sensed Zhou Andong’s invasive gaze the moment he entered, but when she focused her eyes, she found his gaze utterly clear, devoid of any impurity—this startled her. Had it been an illusion?

The thought flashed through Jian Qiu’s mind and vanished just as quickly; she rose gracefully, smiling, and extended her hand: “You must be Zhou Andong. I’ve heard so much about you, but never met you in person—today at last.”

The distillery wasn’t large, but it had over a thousand employees; Zhou Andong, the college graduate, was well-known, yet few actually knew him personally. As for Jian Qiu, with her deep connections, even if you were a college graduate, you still weren’t worth noticing.

As for Zhou Andong, he’d only seen Jian Qiu a few times during staff meetings; whether he’d ever bumped into her on the way to or from work, he couldn’t remember—he had no recollection at all.

As for that day he returned, when they met outside the restroom, they’d both likely forgotten it. He’d been mentally scrambled; she’d merely nodded politely in greeting—and then they’d passed on. Who could remember whom?

“Director Jian, hello.” Zhou Andong extended his hand and lightly gripped the tips of Jian Qiu’s fingers. “The two leaders are in discussion—I’ll step out first and come back later.”

“No need!” Jian Qiu sat back down. “The talk’s already over. Let’s talk about you—when you walked in, you said business had come. What kind of business?”

Zhou Andong turned to Gu Bing and only then noticed the secretary’s face—exhausted, as if he’d been beaten into near-death.

Gu Bing sighed. “Not outsiders. Speak freely.”

Zhou Andong blinked. What’s going on? How did these two end up together? Why didn’t I hear about this?

Seeing Zhou Andong’s sly expression, Gu Bing knew exactly what he was thinking. He snapped: “I call her mom ‘Auntie.’ She calls my dad ‘Uncle Two.’”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier!” Zhou Andong grabbed a cigarette from the desk and lit it. “Just now, outside, I ran into a group of individual buyers coming to purchase liquor.”

Hearing this, Gu Bing perked up—he knew Zhou Andong wouldn’t mention this so seriously just to sell a few bottles.

Jian Qiu’s eyes lit up too; she slightly straightened her posture, watching Zhou Andong with keen interest.

“They went to the Supply and Marketing Section, but Yan Guohai turned them away, claiming our distillery doesn’t have Jiangzhou Imperial Tribute Liquor.” Zhou Andong took a drag. “I intercepted them and told them I could allocate them a few cases—but they had to agree to one condition.”

Zhou Andong looked at Gu Bing, then abruptly changed the subject: “Leader, you should go talk to Yan Guohai tomorrow.”

Gu Bing had been listening intently, but Zhou Andong suddenly stopped. He frowned: “Talk to Yan Guohai? About what?”

Zhou Andong spoke calmly: “What to talk about? The future. If he’s smart, his future will be smooth. If he stubbornly refuses to change, walking straight into the abyss, we won’t mind helping him—get him to retire early, before he slips on a dark road and breaks his neck.”

Jian Qiu’s brow furrowed slightly, then relaxed; she glanced at Zhou Andong, a faint, almost imperceptible gleam flashing in her eyes.

“Last meeting, aside from Deputy Factory Director Qian’s promise, you’re still completely alone. If you can bring Yan Guohai over, you’ll have strangled Gao Qingkui and Zhang Deyou by the throat. But if he won’t serve us and stays as head of Supply and Marketing, even if you win this round and seize control, he’ll still sabotage your sales—and you’ll suffer.”

Gu Bing looked utterly confused. Jian Qiu snapped: “You’re stupid enough to die.”

“Working with you is damn exhausting,” Zhou Andong sighed. “Director Jian, I really wish you were sitting in this office instead. Then I’d have it easy.”

“What’s that mean? What’s that mean!” Gu Bing protested. “Enough already! You two are teaming up to gang up on me. As a leader, I figured it out myself—why do I even need you?”

Jian Qiu rolled her eyes. “If it weren’t for your Auntie’s face, I wouldn’t even bother with you.”

“Exactly!” Zhou Andong added fuel to the fire. “If it weren’t for Director Jian’s face, I’d have walked out already.”

“Bang!” Gu Bing slammed his fist on the desk. “Are you two done yet?”

Jian Qiu stood up and said to Zhou Andong: “Free time? Lunch is on me.”

Zhou Andong nodded without hesitation: “Sure, but I’ve got another friend coming.”

“Bring them too!”

Jian Qiu stepped toward the door; Zhou Andong made as if to follow. Gu Bing shot forward and blocked the exit, smiling broadly.

“It’s only ten-something. Stay here a bit, have some tea first. Then go wherever you like—I’ll treat you.”

Zhou Andong hesitated. “Director Jian, this is our leader—give him some face. Let him treat us to lunch?”

Jian Qiu nodded. “Only because Zhou Andong spoke up. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even bother with you.”

Gu Bing was seething—but he dared not offend either of them. He swallowed his tears and kept them inside.

“Tell me—how do I win over Yan Guohai?”

Jian Qiu snorted and sat down heavily on the sofa. “Those individual buyers Zhou Andong intercepted? That’s your leverage. Don’t hide it—face him openly. Tell Yan Guohai: follow Gu Bing, and we all win. If he refuses, bring those buyers in, call a staff meeting, and let them tell every worker how Yan Guohai lied to them, refused to sell them liquor.”

Gu Bing finally understood, excitement rising: “The workers are all desperate to sell liquor for the New Year. If they find out so many buyers came—and Yan Guohai refused to sell? They’ll riot. His chair won’t hold him then.”

Jian Qiu said: “Good. Not completely stupid.”

At that moment, the Supply and Marketing Section’s sales phone never stopped ringing. The phones in Zhang Deyou and Gao Qingkui’s offices were just as busy. Since the start of the workday, both had been on the phone nonstop, their throats dry—finally, they yanked the cords out. Silence at last.

Zhang Deyou sat slumped in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. After a long while, he exhaled deeply, then rose and walked to Gao Qingkui’s office.

Gao Qingkui’s face was no better. The calm, all-knowing demeanor was gone. His brow was knotted, clutching his enamel mug motionless, lost in thought…

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