Chapter One: I Was Given a Holiday

I pushed open the door to the Sales Department office, and the rush of warm air immediately brought blissful comfort to my nearly frozen body. Shrugging off my overcoat, I shook out the few remaining snowflakes, laughing as I said, “The snow outside is really something—haven’t seen such a heavy snowfall in years. The snow on the ground is incredibly thick…”

Suddenly, I realized the office was unusually quiet; it seemed I was the only one speaking. Looking up, I saw my colleagues either avoiding my gaze or, if they did look at me, their eyes were filled with sympathy—as if they were watching a pig being led to the slaughterhouse. My heart sank, a sense of foreboding clouding over me.

Zhao Yanjin, a coworker, approached, holding a sheet of paper. He patted my shoulder and sighed, “Lao Tang, the performance report for last month just came out. You’re at the bottom again… Sigh! The Dragon Lady is waiting for you in her office—she said to see her as soon as you got back. Take care, my friend.”

I took the report from him, and sure enough, my name was at the very bottom. I recalled how, around this time last month, the Dragon Lady had yelled at me: “Tang Qian! You’ve been dead last in performance for five months in a row—breaking the company’s record for the worst sales ranking. Truly an honor! I’m telling you, if you’re last again next month, pack your things and go home. This is your final chance…”

Honestly, I knew I was never cut out for sales. I’m introverted, awkward, not good at talking or socializing, and I have a strong sense of propriety—I can’t stand underhanded tricks and simply can’t bring myself to use them. So sales is exactly the kind of work I’m worst at and least want to do. Yet, by some twist of fate, I ended up in a job dealing with clients, and how could I do well when I’m already unhappy and it’s work I dislike? Even though I’ve tried very hard.

I straightened my clothes, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door of the Sales Manager’s office—Gu Ruoyan.

“Come in!” called a voice from inside.

Pushing open the door, I saw the Dragon Lady sitting behind her desk, typing rapidly at her computer. She glanced up, saw it was me, and nodded toward the chair in front of her desk. “Sit down. Give me a moment, I’ll be done soon,” she said, continuing to type quickly.

Left with no choice, I pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, watching her work away at her computer.

Gu Ruoyan’s nickname was “Dragon Lady,” though she herself was unaware of it. It was partly thanks to her family name—Gu—because in the old tale “Water Margin,” there had been a character called Gu the Tigress. Combined with her usual stern demeanor and strictness with her subordinates, everyone in the Sales Department was as afraid of her as mice are of cats. Tigers, of course, are felines, so instead of calling her “manager” or by her name, we privately called her “Dragon Lady.”

But in truth, Gu Ruoyan had little in common with felines. She was about thirty-one or thirty-two, wore gold-rimmed glasses, had a lovely face, and a figure both slender and shapely—a mature beauty, by anyone’s standards. It was just that she always wore an icy expression at work, keeping people at a distance. I wondered what she was like at home—was she cold-faced with her family, too?

While I pondered this, Gu Ruoyan finished her typing. She lifted her hands from the keyboard and turned her gaze to me. Beneath her cold stare, I immediately felt a pressure that made me sit up straight, swallowing hard.

She didn’t speak right away, just looked at me, tapping her right index finger on the desk—thud, thud, thud.

I already knew what she was going to say. I could sense disaster approaching, and I braced myself for her words.

Finally, she spoke. “You’ve seen the November performance report?”

“Yes, I’m last again.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“……”

“No thoughts?”

I sighed. “I tried my best, but it still didn’t work.”

“Yes.” Gu Ruoyan’s finger kept tapping on the desk. She glanced at the swirling snow outside. “You really do work hard. It’s freezing out there, yet while your coworkers are hiding in the heated office, you’re braving the snow to visit clients. I appreciate that dedication.”

I was a little surprised—so the Dragon Lady noticed these things, too.

She continued, “Don’t think I only care about results and ignore effort. I see everything you do. In the Sales Department, you’re probably the most diligent, most conscientious employee.”

Her unexpected praise caught me off guard, but deep down, I still felt uneasy. I dared not show any sign of being flattered and simply lowered my head in silence.

Sure enough, she changed tack. “But with all your hard work, you’re still last every month. Doesn’t that suggest something?”

“I… I…” In truth, I knew the reason, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

Gu Ruoyan stopped tapping the desk. Seeing that I hesitated, she continued directly, “It means you’re not suited for sales. Your personality just isn’t a fit—no matter how hard you try, you struggle to deal with clients, you’re not skilled at sensing their needs, and you won’t do things you consider beneath your dignity. That’s why your results never beat anyone else’s. Am I right?”

I sighed and nodded helplessly.

She went on, “When Manager Cao left, he specifically asked me to look after you. I’ve already given you countless chances. According to company policy, anyone who ranks last for three consecutive months is supposed to be eliminated. This is your sixth month now—I can’t delay any longer. The company has its rules, you understand?”

What was coming was inevitable. I no longer harbored any illusions. Standing up, I replied hoarsely, “I understand. I’ll bring you my resignation letter in a moment.”

“What are you doing? Sit down! Who said you should resign yourself?” Gu Ruoyan pointed at the chair and ordered me back in a low voice. Startled, I sat down again.

She ignored me for a while, clicking away at her computer. After a minute, she said, “Tang Qian, I heard that when you first joined the company, you were in the R&D department. That’s your real strength, isn’t it? Didn’t you graduate from Z University with a degree in chemistry? R&D is exactly where you should excel—so why did you get transferred to sales?”

Yes, indeed. I felt a wave of emotion. Four years ago, after graduating college, I was hired by a subsidiary of the Huasheng Group as a product development researcher. I started out full of enthusiasm, not only making suggestions for improving the company’s existing drinks but also devoting myself to developing a new tea beverage. Just as I was hitting my stride, I somehow offended the R&D Director, Guo Yuhua. He dismissed my suggestions and made my work on the new product unnecessarily difficult, slowing my progress to a crawl. Eventually, I lost my temper and had a huge argument with him, after which he promptly fired me. Luckily, at the time, Sales Manager Cao Ziping took pity on me and transferred me to sales, where I’ve been ever since. While Manager Cao was around, he always looked out for me—he never criticized my results and let me muddle through day by day. But good times don’t last; a year ago, Manager Cao was transferred to serve as general manager in Shenzhen, and the new manager was none other than the Dragon Lady, Gu Ruoyan. She cared nothing for personal feelings, only about results, and my days became much harder.

Looking at Gu Ruoyan, I had much to say, but in the end, I simply muttered, “Nothing much, just fell foul of the boss.”

“Is that so?” She gave me a look, then continued, “Actually, I don’t have the authority to decide your fate. That’s up to the general manager. Don’t be in a hurry—the general manager will be back from Hainan next week. Maybe there’ll be another arrangement. For now, drop your sales work, hand over your responsibilities, and take a few days off. We’ll decide everything after the general manager returns.”

It didn’t really make any difference to me—I had no connection with the general manager, and when he came back, I’d likely be dismissed anyway. As soon as I left the Dragon Lady’s office, Zhao Yanjin hurried over. “Lao Tang, how’d it go?” I pulled out a cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag, and managed a bitter smile. “Lao Zhao, you’ll have to handle Baosheng Company for me. I’ve been put on leave—maybe for good.”

Zhao Yanjin had expected this; he patted my shoulder in silence and sighed. Some other colleagues I got along with—Li Xiaoling, Zhang Shijun, and a few others—came over to comfort me. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation. After packing up, I put on my coat and left the company.

Outside, the wind and snow were fierce, and the drifts were deep. I felt miserable, trudging through the snow until I found myself at a bar. I sat at the counter, drinking to drown my sorrows. Normally, I didn’t care much for alcohol—other than occasionally drinking a little with clients—but when something weighed on my mind, I’d find a place to get myself drunk.

A pack of cigarettes, a bottle of liquor. By the time I’d finished them both, night had fallen.

I staggered out of the bar, hailed a cab, and made my way home. My parents scolded me a little for coming home drunk, but since I often came home tipsy from entertaining clients, they weren’t surprised. Collapsing onto the sofa in the living room, I saw my little sister absorbed in the TV, ignoring me completely. I glanced at the screen—some awards ceremony was being broadcast, and it was time to announce the Best Actress.

A wave of dizziness hit me, the alcohol surging up, and I shut my eyes in discomfort. Suddenly, my sister exclaimed with delight, “Yes! It’s Xu Shu—I knew it! Who else could possibly deserve that award?”

I cracked one eye open to see the host announcing the winner to a storm of applause. A stunningly beautiful woman rose with a smile, waving as she walked onto the stage. I vaguely remembered her name: Xu Shu. Wasn’t she a singer? How had she started acting in films—and even won Best Actress?

I didn’t watch any longer. Dead drunk, my head lolled to the side, and I fell asleep on the sofa…