Before He Xiaoyuan and the others could even resubmit their rewritten assignment, that same afternoon around three o’clock, Zhu Xuanmin took the five of them to the next rotation department—another small team under the mobile games division, this one responsible for an RPG game.
Same routine: supervisor introduction, supervisor explanation.
He Xiaoyuan and the others took notes like crazy, staying until it was time to clock out.
Before leaving, the supervisor assigned homework in person.
Originally, they were asked to write an analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of that team’s game. Then the supervisor suddenly remembered something and asked Zhu Xuanmin whether these five had already rotated through Director Hu’s otome game team. After getting a yes, the supervisor changed his mind on the spot.
“In that case,” he said, “why don’t you write a comparison of the two games instead? Include their strengths and weaknesses.”
The five of them: “……”
Back in the office, the moment Xin Rui pushed the door open, she wailed loudly, “This is seriously killing me~!”
Zou Fanping, right behind her, said, “My eyes are already seeing double.”
They’d been taking notes nonstop while staring at original game art on the screen.
Jiang Weiwei came in third. “It’s over, it’s over—rewrites plus new homework. No sleeping tonight.”
Yuan Miao, heartbroken, had no expression and no commentary.
He Xiaoyuan came in last, silent as ever, quietly taking a deep breath.
The other group had just come back as well. All eleven of them were finally together, and once again the office was filled with an air of utter despair.
Someone said, “The afternoon tea’s gone cold—are we still eating it?”
When it was delivered, no one had been in the office.
“Eat afternoon tea? I don’t even think I can eat dinner anymore.”
“Forget dinner—I didn’t even have time to digest lunch.”
“Just write, write already. Finish it fast—otherwise don’t even think about sleeping tonight.”
“Anyone going to the cafeteria? Bring me back some dinner.”
“Going?”
“Going where? Overtime.”
“I want to cry.”
“Cry after you finish writing. Save the time.”
“If I turn around and go back to school now, is it still in time?”
“Stop dreaming. Save your time.”
…
That night, eight out of the eleven stayed in the office. Very few people even went downstairs to eat dinner.
After replying to Xu Ruomeng’s messages, He Xiaoyuan stayed in front of his computer until 8:30. Only when hunger finally hit did he get up, take the untouched afternoon tea from the round table, carry it back to his desk, and sit down to keep working.
Everyone was probably hungry. After He Xiaoyuan took the afternoon tea, several others stood up one after another to grab cake and coffee as well.
This time, no one complained that the cake wasn’t sweet enough or that the coffee had no sugar. Everyone took their food in silence and returned to their desks in silence. The office was quiet, filled only with the sound of keyboards tapping.
Before ten o’clock, a few more people left. By eleven, most of the office was empty.
He Xiaoyuan was completely absorbed in his document and barely noticed his surroundings. He had taken only a few bites of the cake he’d brought back, but had finished all the coffee.
“He Xiaoyuan, you’re not leaving?”
Zou Fanping was the last person to leave besides him.
He Xiaoyuan snapped back to attention and realized it was already past eleven, and the office was completely empty.
He Xiaoyuan said, “I’ve still got a bit left.”
Zou Fanping slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Then I’m heading out. Bye.”
“Okay, bye,” He Xiaoyuan replied.
At midnight, He Xiaoyuan finally finished both assignments.
He let out a breath, rolled his stiff neck, and leaned lightly back against his chair.
Finally done.
But he didn’t feel relieved at all, because he knew exactly what the quality of those two pieces was like.
He had finally, truly felt what Brother Lu meant by “not easy.”
It really wasn’t easy.
He Xiaoyuan picked up the remaining cake and ate it.
As he filled his stomach, he thought: there were so many departments, even more things he didn’t understand. One rotation every two or three days, assignments every day—was it going to be this rushed from now on?
Sure, you could always rush out an assignment. At worst, you just spend more time and stay up late every night. But how do you guarantee quality?
He Xiaoyuan felt that this couldn’t go on like this.
But as for what exactly he should do to change it, he had no idea at all.
After finishing the cake, throwing away the trash, submitting his work, and shutting down his computer, He Xiaoyuan became the last person to leave the office.
While riding the elevator down, he checked the time. It was already 12:30 a.m. The last shuttle back to the dorms had been at eleven, the subway was closed too, and he had no choice but to take a cab.
He Xiaoyuan always spent as little as possible. He almost always took the subway or bus and rarely used taxis. He didn’t even have a ride-hailing app on his phone.
He walked out of the Spris building and went to the bus stop in front to wait for a taxi.
After waiting for a bit, a black Maybach slowly pulled up to the stop.
He Xiaoyuan saw it and glanced over instinctively, without thinking much of it.
Just as he was about to turn his attention back toward the road to wait for a cab, the rear window of the Maybach rolled down, revealing a not-unfamiliar face behind the glass.
He Xiaoyuan froze and looked over. “President Lu.”
Lu Chen’s deep-set features looked somewhat gentler under the glow of the illuminated billboard.
He looked at He Xiaoyuan. “Heading back to the dorms?”
He Xiaoyuan nodded.
Lu Chen tilted his head slightly in indication. “Get in.”
He Xiaoyuan paused—President Lu was giving him a ride?
Lu Chen was concise. “On the way.”
As he spoke, the car door opened.
He Xiaoyuan had originally wanted to refuse. It was easy to get a cab around the CBD; if he waited a bit longer, one would come. But since President Lu had already said it was on the way, the door was open, and he had even made space in the back seat, it would have been awkward to refuse again.
So He Xiaoyuan walked over, reached out, opened the door, and bent down to get into the car.
As soon as he was inside, he said politely, “Thank you, President Lu.”
Then he looked toward the driver. “Sorry to trouble you—North Lin Road, number 229, the Spris employee housing.”
The driver rolled up the rear window. “Got it.”
The car fell quiet.
The Maybach had excellent sound insulation and a smooth ride. It was the best and quietest car He Xiaoyuan had ever ridden in. So quiet that he felt he should say something—otherwise, just sitting there in silence felt awkward.
But clearly his worry was unnecessary. Before he could find a topic, Lu Chen looked at him and asked evenly, “Just got off work? You’re pretty late today.”
He Xiaoyuan turned his head to meet his gaze. “I had some… ‘homework.’ Stuff we have to write for rotation.”
Lu Chen hummed in acknowledgment, clearly aware of the rotation system and the assignments, then asked, “Couldn’t finish it?”
“I finished,” He Xiaoyuan replied.
“Hard?” Lu Chen asked.
He Xiaoyuan didn’t exaggerate and answered honestly, “Yeah. A bit.”
Lu Chen’s voice, like his presence, was steady and unhurried. “That’s normal. You just got here. You don’t understand anything yet, everything needs to be learned, and you still have to produce written output. Of course it won’t be easy.”
After a pause, he added, “Once you find a way to adapt, you’ll be able to handle the rotations more smoothly.”
A way to adapt?
He Xiaoyuan paused inwardly.
As if knowing what he was thinking, Lu Chen continued, “If you only learn one department at a time during rotation, you’ll end up overwhelmed. You need to prepare in advance.”
He Xiaoyuan thought to himself: prepare in advance…
“There are plenty of methods and channels for early preparation—it depends on you,” Lu Chen said. “If I were you, I’d include the departments other groups are currently rotating through in my early learning scope. Do some ‘pre-study’ ahead of time. That way, when it’s actually your turn, you won’t be caught off guard.”
A soft ding sounded in He Xiaoyuan’s ears, and he suddenly felt like someone had pointed out a direction in the middle of a fog.
That’s right—pre-study. Learn in advance. The other group just happened to be rotating through departments different from theirs.
Once the reminder clicked, a spark lit up in He Xiaoyuan’s eyes. He hurriedly said, “Thank you for the guidance, President Lu.”
Lu Chen pressed his lips together slightly, as if smiling, his tone unhurried. “I barely said anything, and you’re already thanking me? I don’t think I really said much.”
He Xiaoyuan wasn’t the smooth, socially adept type, but he knew what to say in the right situations.
Even if President Lu had spoken casually, he, as the one receiving the advice, still needed to thank him. They weren’t close, and President Lu had not only given him a ride but also offered guidance. Anyone with a bit of sense would know to say thank you.
As for President Lu saying he hadn’t really said anything…
He Xiaoyuan looked into the man’s eyes beside him. “Didn’t you tell me to ‘pre-study,’ President Lu?”
Lu Chen’s dark eyes reflected He Xiaoyuan’s face. “I only said that much, and you already know what to do?”
He Xiaoyuan nodded.
Lu Chen smiled quietly to himself.
Pretty smart, he thought.
And those eyes—when he looked at people seriously—beautiful and full of life.
What are they made of, so clear and bright?
The smile in Lu Chen’s eyes faded slightly.
Being stared at like that, He Xiaoyuan paused, not quite sure what President Lu was looking at.
He briefly looked away and didn’t meet the man’s gaze again. Sitting quietly, he lifted his eyes—only to see President Lu’s gaze drop to his lips.
Instinctively, He Xiaoyuan wondered what was wrong with his mouth. Then it hit him—he’d eaten cake earlier. Could it be…
He Xiaoyuan immediately raised his hand and wiped his mouth.
The corners of Lu Chen’s eyes curved faintly.
That should be clean now, probably, He Xiaoyuan thought as he wiped.
Lu Chen’s gaze swept over the corner of his lips. He pulled out a tissue and handed it over, asking casually, “What did you eat?”
He Xiaoyuan took the tissue, feeling a little awkward. “Cake.”
“Afternoon tea?” Lu Chen asked.
His voice was steady, and his gentle manner unconsciously eased He Xiaoyuan’s embarrassment.
He Xiaoyuan wiped the corner of his mouth. “Yeah.”
Lu Chen’s tone was warm. “Why are you eating afternoon tea as a midnight snack? Didn’t have dinner?”
“I was rushing to finish my assignments tonight,” He Xiaoyuan said. “Didn’t have time to eat.”
“Work is work,” Lu Chen said. “You still have to remember to eat.”
To He Xiaoyuan, it sounded exactly like a mild-tempered leader showing concern for a subordinate.
The rest of the ride passed quickly in casual conversation.
When they reached the employee housing and the car stopped downstairs at Building E, He Xiaoyuan pushed the door open and said, “Thanks for the ride, President Lu. I’ll head in.”
Lu Chen looked at him. “Mm. Go on.”
“Goodbye, President Lu.”
He Xiaoyuan got out of the car and watched as it turned around and drove away. He thought quietly: President Lu is actually pretty nice. Very approachable.
He just didn’t know which department President Lu was in, or his exact position.
He Xiaoyuan didn’t dwell on it. Once the car disappeared from sight, he turned and went inside, thinking as he walked about the idea of “pre-study.”
He felt President Lu’s advice made a lot of sense. He couldn’t wait until rotation started to learn—he had to prepare ahead of time.
Tomorrow at the office, he could discuss it with the rest of the group.
Good thing he ran into President Lu today.
He Xiaoyuan felt quietly grateful.