MG CH7

The exhibition hall manager rushed over, apologizing profusely for the incident.

The empty picture frames lay scattered on the floor. Ji Chen stood timidly to the side, head nearly buried in the ground.

But at that moment, no one paid much attention to the culprit. Everyone was more concerned about Yan Zishu’s hand.

Helen arrived and took Zeng Peirong to the nearest mall to buy a new skirt to replace the damaged one. Meanwhile, Fu Weishan proceeded as planned, escorting Zeng Chuyi to the back office area. Zeng Zhanpeng glanced at Yan Zishu several times but followed his father.

This was for the best—Yan Zishu didn’t want to be gawked at while tending to his wound.

The manager brought him to the office, pulling out a first-aid kit and disinfecting the wound with alcohol. The bleeding stopped, and fortunately, the cut wasn’t deep.

“Hand wounds, unless severe, usually don’t scar,” the manager said, wiping sweat from his brow as he closed the kit. “But since it was a nail, Mr. Yan, you should get a tetanus shot at the hospital. Ji Chen, how could you be so careless?”

Ji Chen’s face flushed red. “I’m really sorry. It’s just…”

“Just what? Just an accident? Just a mistake? Just no one taught you step-by-step?” Yan Zishu shot him a sharp glance.

The manager forced a smile, staying silent. He bore some responsibility for poor oversight, but this kid was too unreliable.

Yan Zishu continued, “Every worker here knows to use the cargo elevator and staff passage when moving materials. The exhibition hall is full of artworks—one wrong move could cause huge losses. Why are you the only one who doesn’t follow the rules?”

Ji Chen looked up. “I’m sorry, Assistant Yan. I really didn’t know about that rule.”

The manager didn’t dare defend himself openly in front of Yan Zishu but grumbled inwardly: I emphasized this in the team meeting. Who knows where your mind was wandering? So quick to dodge blame—today’s college kids are something else.

And who would carry large rectangular frames vertically? Didn’t that block the view?

It was an incomprehensible thought process!

Fortunately, Yan Zishu saw through it. Targeting only Ji Chen, he patted his shoulder with his uninjured hand. “Fine, come with me.”

Yan Zishu led Ji Chen back to the exhibition hall entrance, pointing to the wall. Three colorful KT boards displayed the “Precautions” clearly, including rules like carrying paintings facing oneself and using the staff passage.

These were typically hung during setup and stored away afterward.

This time, Ji Chen had no excuse. “I… didn’t see it… I’ll use the staff passage next time, okay?”

Yan Zishu didn’t answer directly. “I won’t say more. You’re not a full-time employee, so scolding you too much is pointless. But whether you stay or go, wait for notice.”

Ji Chen opened his mouth, then stopped. His eyes visibly reddened, brimming with tears.

The manager, stunned by Ji Chen’s quick tears, thought: I’m the one facing a bonus deduction, and I’m not crying!

An internship? Was it worth this? Why not go audition for a talent show?

Yan Zishu went to the hospital for a tetanus shot. When he returned, Ji Chen was still sitting on the outdoor steps, hugging his knees in a daze.

Ji Chen didn’t notice Yan Zishu, and Yan Zishu had no intention of disturbing his life contemplation, ignoring him.

By then, the Zeng family had returned to their hotel, leaving Fu Weishan alone in the exhibition hall lobby, where the manager was reporting to him.

After the report, the manager, seeing Yan Zishu’s return, asked with concern, “The doctor said the wound’s fine, right?”

Yan Zishu smiled. “Minor issue. Just keep it dry for now.”

The manager knew to show concern, but Fu Weishan didn’t mention it once. In his mind, Yan Zishu was likely a work machine—when a part broke, it went to the repair shop and came back good as new.

Once the manager returned to his post, Yan Zishu began, “About that intern today…”

Mid-sentence, they noticed a slight figure hiding behind a pillar. Both looked over.

Ji Chen emerged, hesitating, then walked to Fu Weishan and bowed deeply at ninety degrees. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Fu! Today was all my fault! I…”

Yan Zishu stopped, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Ji Chen stammered, “I… I’d like to ask if you could give me another chance. This job means a lot to me… I swear I won’t make the same mistake again.”

Fu Weishan looked at him for a long moment as Ji Chen’s voice grew quieter, bracing for a scolding.

But Fu Weishan smiled. “Of course.”

Ji Chen’s face lit up. “Really?”

Fu Weishan was magnanimous. “What’s the big deal? Everyone makes mistakes when they’re young. Don’t dwell on a small work error.”

He’d finally remembered his “prey.”

Fu Weishan invited Ji Chen to dinner at the Sky Garden, where Zeng Zhanpeng’s group had dined days earlier. With its lush greenery and vibrant flowers, it was perfect for business or romance.

Helen, booking the reservation, was confused: What’s going on? Ji Chen messed up again, and the boss is treating him to dinner? Does this kid have some special charm?

She considered probing Yan Zishu but knew his lips stayed sealed until the right moment. After some thought, she took solace in one fact: Yan Zishu had filled out Ji Chen’s evaluation form and transferred him out of the secretarial department. Though it felt a bit unkind, Helen silently prayed: It should be fine, right?

Yan Zishu was oblivious to her musings. He was driving Ji Chen back to his school after dinner.

Ji Chen was a bit wary of Yan Zishu now, as he always seemed to play the “bad cop” in front of him for one reason or another. Alone in the car without Fu Weishan or others, Ji Chen sat stiffly in the passenger seat, listening to the traffic radio, barely moving.

Yan Zishu glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Fu Weishan’s “good cop” act had clearly worked—Ji Chen’s face was glowing again. At a red light, Ji Chen mustered the courage to say, “Um… Assistant Yan, I’m really sorry about injuring you today.”

Yan Zishu gave his trademark response: “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Ji Chen tried to mend their rapport. “I’ll work hard from now on.”

Yan Zishu just hoped he’d stop causing trouble and focus on charming Fu Weishan. After all, workers only feared a godly rival 1% of the time—the other 99% was spent suffering from incompetent teammates.

But whatever. He added cleaning up Ji Chen’s messes to his work plan and smiled. “That’s great.”

When he didn’t smile, he was icy; when he did, it disarmed people. Ji Chen tilted his head, as if dazzled by spring blossoms, his lips curling into a grin, his whole body relaxing.

“Assistant Yan, have you worked with Mr. Fu for a long time?”

“You could say that.”

“Mr. Fu… I didn’t expect someone like him to be so approachable. Young, capable, and down-to-earth.”

“Mm.”

“Oh, I gave Mr. Fu two theater tickets for our school’s drama club performance. If… you have time…”

“If Mr. Fu goes, I’ll be there too.”

Ji Chen’s eyes sparkled. “Great! It’s a deal.”

He got out near the school’s south gate, waving goodbye to Yan Zishu.

Yan Zishu raised an eyebrow, watching Ji Chen’s figure disappear, pondering his claim that Fu Weishan was “down-to-earth.” During this time, his phone, clipped to the dashboard, pinged with three WeChat notifications. Before driving off, Yan Zishu checked them.

One from Fu Weishan: “Come back after dropping him off.”

One from Fu Jinchi: “Have you been to the hospital?”

The last from one of Fu Weishan’s lovers—Yan Zishu vaguely recalled her as a small-time entrepreneur’s daughter or minor celebrity: “Mr. Yan, is Mr. Fu busy lately? I’d like to meet him. Could you help arrange it?”

Regarding the two main players’ relationship, Yan Zishu maintained a bystander’s stance, doing only what was required. He stayed silent, letting things unfold. But as an outsider, he believed being a bit ruthless was never a bad thing.