"Hello, Mr. Jiang. My name is Shang Zhitao." She hadn't expected Jiang Lan to suddenly ask her name, but at least that was all she'd asked. "You've handled things well." Jiang Lan praised her, then added, "I'm staying right next door. When luke wakes up, let me know. We still have industry association matters to finish." "Of course. I'll leave luke a message to find you when he's up." Zhitao was gradually learning to read people, gradually learning where the lines were. Jiang Lan's "let me know" really meant "have luke come find me himself." After seeing Jiang Lan out, she went back to Luan Nian's bedside. He was still faking it. Everyone else had left and he still kept his eyes shut tight. She called his name twice, gently, and he wouldn't open them, just murmured a low "hot." Zhitao made a small sound and picked up the towel to wipe his face, in earnest this time. Even if the...
Shang Zhitao stood below the stage watching Luan Nian give his speech. It was not the first time, but he still made her a little dizzy. He didn't look small on a stage that large. He carried himself with a rare kind of composure. He talked about Lingmei's new strategy for the domestic market this year: digging deep into local culture, honoring the spirit of craftsmanship, connecting the domestic and international markets, letting the brand put down roots at home while still reaching outward. The creative center had worked with the marketing department on research and a promotional video, and it was also unveiled during his speech, polished and rich with substance. That was the kind of person Luan Nian was. In an industry like this, he never let material desire or popular taste steer him. He always held to himself. That was his nerve, and it was also his charm. During rehearsal he had simply walked the stage to find his marks, not saying a single word. Today was the first tim...