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Chapter 52: Assistant Liang harbors deep schemes
Although “Shuizhen” was a faux-ancient scenic area, its central business hotel was an ultra-star modern building.
Underfoot were gleaming golden-brown marble floor tiles, and overhead were densely inlaid crystal scattering lights; the luxurious and brilliant atmosphere was created very thoroughly.
However, the interior of the rooms was no different from most business hotels—equally gilded on the outside, cramped on the inside.
King rooms and deluxe rooms might be better, but the ordinary standard twin rooms didn’t have much space. Even the beds were slightly shorter than the standard household size.
After entering the room, Liang Bo measured it with his own body and found the bed was exactly as long as he was. If he slept without a pillow, it was a perfect fit. If he used a pillow, his feet would stick out.
So he also mimicked his boss’s annoying pretentiousness: “Sigh—! I want to request a king-size room.”
Shou Jiaxun turned on the AC and sat in a small sofa to smoke, making sarcastic remarks: “A king-size bed is wider, not longer. You’d better just saw off a piece of your legs.”
“I can sleep diagonally.” Assistant Liang did a kip-up to sit up, casually handing the ashtray from the bedside table to President Shou: “This room is so small… it’ll be very convenient for me to provide you with room service (bed service).”
“Haha!” Shou Jiaxun took the small porcelain ashtray to tap his ash. Coming from Liang Bo, the same dirty joke didn’t sound annoying.
Because the main theme of this internet summit was domestic leading platforms making centralized promotional pushes of digital marketing products to the advertising industry, Shou Jiaxun and his advertising company colleagues attending the conference was somewhat akin to strolling through a trade fair.
Learn some case studies, understand new products, and write down whatever seemed useful to apply later to clients or their own brand’s marketing projects.
Therefore, the whole process was very relaxed. Not only did Shou Jiaxun not unpack his “battle gear” (suits), but he also didn’t urge Liang Bo to wear formal attire. The two sat in the room for a few minutes to catch their breath, then strolled out leisurely, empty-handed.
Halfway there, Shou Jiaxun suddenly slapped his forehead, showing a “having lost the plot” expression. He stopped and complained to Liang Bo: “Today… it seems we should have called the guys from the advertising department over!”
Liang Bo frowned, his eyes widening and mouth slightly open, indicating he didn’t understand, while an ominous premonition slowly sprouted in his heart.
Sure enough, in the next second, Shou Jiaxun suddenly laid out a new task: “Go back and get the laptop, voice recorder, and backup power supply. Record the ‘new products’ later, and give the advertising department a training session when we get back.”
Assistant Liang asked nervously: “Just me alone?”
“You alone definitely won’t be enough.” Shou Jiaxun shook his head. “You record first. Fan Xiao won’t be able to handle it alone either, so you help him.”
Although Liang Bo had only been at the company for one day, he learned quickly. He immediately took out his phone, pulled a few people from the company’s main group to create a temporary business trip team, and conveyed the new task right in front of Shou Jiaxun.
Shou Jiaxun tilted his chin up, narrowing his eyes to peek at his phone screen: “Why didn’t you pull me into the group?” He was referring, of course, to the “Shuizhen Business Trip Temporary Group.”
While typing, Liang Bo responded to his boss: “If I pull you in, it won’t show how important I am.”
More importantly, with the boss in the group, everyone would collectively choose to keep their mouths shut on many things that could be said or left unsaid.
Only because President Shou wasn’t in the small temporary group did the chat quickly become active. Someone asked Liang Bo: “Little Liang, where are you sleeping tonight?”
At that moment, Liang Bo was squatting in the room packing electronic gear, and found a moment to reply: “Same as before.”
A few minutes later, another colleague sighed: “President Shou is really… my forever god!” This was expressing dissatisfaction.
The Brand Department belonged to “Guoran Trade,” and the Advertising Department belonged to “Yunfeng Advertising.” One served the “Guoran brand,” and the other served “clients’ brands.”
The Brand Department’s business trip, which was supposed to be easy and breezy, suddenly required them to return and provide training to a sister department. The workload had probably more than doubled.
Liang Bo said he would help do it together, but he had endless business trips coming up. At most, he could help collect some speech info.
So the people in the Brand Department were definitely unhappy.
At this moment, whether to let resentment pile up or to unite allied forces to inspire camaraderie depended primarily on whether the President’s Special Assistant could unleash his unique value.
Assistant Liang first released a wave of insider info: “President Shou invited someone to write proposals together tonight, might pull an all-nighter.”
As soon as this was said, someone inevitably followed up: “Boss works so hard.”
Whether it was genuine praise or sarcastic remarks, Assistant Liang smoothly offered another ladder, suggesting to the Brand Department supervisor: “Brother Fan, if you guys also plan to work overtime tonight, I’ll arrange a place and make the boss pay. Let’s get the snacks, drinks, and crayfish set up first.”
The first half of the sentence reminded Fan Xiao that he could use this opportunity to show his work attitude; the second half offered a perk, coaxing everyone… Working overtime was secondary, but butchering the boss’s wallet for a good meal—does that feel good or what?
Of course, it felt very good.
The per-capita cost for slightly better-quality crayfish in Beijing had already risen to around two to three hundred per meal. Shuizhen was the famous crayfish capital of the whole country. A blind estimate… they could probably eat back the cost of overtime pay.
However, there was another sentence Assistant Liang didn’t say out loud—”Yong Ming, you want 1v1 time with Shou Jiaxun? Hehe, in your next life.”
The key was that Shou Jiaxun was also extremely satisfied with this arrangement.
A boss who actually knew how to make money didn’t care about the small change spent on food and drinks. Internally, seeing his partners united, capable of fighting and striving, put him in a good mood; externally, showing off his team’s combat power to fellow peer Director Yong gave him face.
The only person in the whole place feeling completely disappointed and lost was the competitor’s executive, Yong Ming. This “Decepticon” bachelor, who claimed to deeply love Beta boyfriends, deliberately dismissed his subordinates after dinner, quickly showered, changed clothes, sprayed on cologne, and tucked a slim notebook under his arm to knock on President Shou’s door.
He knocked for a long time with no answer, so he had to call.
The other end of the phone was incredibly lively…
Shou Jiaxun boisterously called out to his friend: “I booked a study room on the B1 floor, Room A726. Get down here quickly!”
The layout and decoration of the hotel’s first basement floor looked much like a large KTV, but the lighting was bright and the layout airy. Each private room also featured a large ultra-HD flat-screen TV.
However, this TV wasn’t connected to a karaoke machine; it was connected to a computer projection port—for viewing PPTs.
There was also a large conference table. No food or dishes were placed on it because its surface was lined with power outlets—afraid of water.
Grooves for holding markers and self-cleaning erasers were attached to the glass walls—indicating this area could serve as a whiteboard.
In the corner sat a few single-seater sofa chairs, along with a water dispenser and disposable paper cups.
A giant LED screen at the entrance continuously displayed a line of text in shifting colors: Party-Style Office.
Even a natural-born workaholic like Yong Ming wanted to scream at the top of his lungs when he walked in: “Are you guys crazy?!”
—Because here was a group of people who came to this scenic, cultural town with green hills and clear waters, checked into a clean, luxurious modern hotel, and then walked into the basement… to work overtime.
“So are you trying to express the core idea of ‘If we don’t work, we can’t afford to live, so we might as well bury ourselves on the spot’?”
Director Yong’s face was filled with disbelief as he screamed silently in his heart: So f*cking suffocating!
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