KA | Chapter 1

I met my beloved on the Lantern Festival of 2027.

That day was no different from any other. The glutinous rice balls had just finished cooking at midday when a client called me to discuss a partnership. No triple pay for overtime, and the resentment of a lowly office worker had swollen to the point where I could curse through the earth. I grumbled my way to the meeting, rushing about for a living like I had on countless other workdays—

“If you spend 10,000 with me on a self-media account, I’ll give you websites worth 5,000, e-commerce shops worth 3,000 and 2,000, which means you’re spending 10,000 to get 20,000 worth of services. Today is the company’s Lantern Festival promotion—that’s the only reason I can offer you this price. You can’t miss an opportunity like this, sister!”

The older woman didn’t respond, just kept scrolling through our company’s self-media case portfolio on her phone. She was clearly tempted.

Temptation had to be converted into action.

“This is our third meeting, and you definitely want to do this—otherwise you wouldn’t have let me come so many times, right?”

The older woman nodded.

“Since you want to do it and the policy is already on the table, what else is there to think about?” I multitasked, talking while sending her an electronic contract.

The older woman hesitated. “I only know how to make socks. I’ve never dealt with the internet. If you can guarantee I’ll make money, I’ll sign the contract with you.”

“Running an online shop is just like doing business offline. Nobody can guarantee profit or loss. All I can do is try my best for you. I’m like building a bridge between you and your customers—with the bridge, customers can come across. The money you transfer to our company is the bridge-building fee.”

The older woman dragged her feet signing the contract, but when it came time to transfer the money, she lost her nerve.

I looked at her and spoke earnestly: “To be honest with you, I’ve been in sales for five years, and this is the first time I’ve seen such a suitable discount policy! The Lantern Festival policy is set by the company, not by me. If you miss today, there’s no way you’ll get a deal for less than 20,000 yuan in the future.”

Yucheng’s advertising market was a mixed bag. Many small companies quoted lower than me. I couldn’t compete on price, so the only way to close a deal was to bundle low-cost value-added products with the main service. The older woman didn’t understand anything and only compared prices—she wanted to spend 10,000 to get the effect of 100,000. No company could deliver that. Competitors who dared make false promises were just trying to fool idiots. If I didn’t sign her, she’d get scammed by competitors anyway. Better to keep the profit in the family.

Before the money transfers, the client is the king; once the money arrives, the service provider is the ancestor!

The older woman transferred the funds, with endless reminders to do good work.

“Don’t worry, sister.”

I’d deliver on everything I promised, but if she couldn’t get the effect of 100,000 for 10,000, well, that wasn’t my fault.

Quick calculation: this deal had a gross margin of about 5,000, sales commission was 20%, so I’d pocket 1,000. Even the holiday overtime wasn’t wasted effort.

*

Winter wind howled bleakly. My cotton coat leaked cold air, so I tightened the gap between my coat and sweater, hugged myself, and crossed my arms to warm my hands by tucking them into opposite sleeves.

I’d bought the Wuling Hongguang Mini with full payment at the start of the year. The advantage was low fuel consumption; the disadvantage was tight space and a cramped back seat. But if you thought about it positively, even a Mustang was the same.

Last month, my leader gave me a client list to contact—old clients who had worked with Lanhai before but weren’t currently partnered with us.

Unlike the older woman who sold socks, these old clients were major players who needed ongoing promotion and had sufficient advertising budgets.

Sock sellers had a crowd of competitors circling them, but major corporate clients had packs of wolves guarding them. Without connections, it was hard to even meet with them, let alone close a deal.

Since I couldn’t get meetings anyway, I might as well try a long shot.

The Lantern Festival was the perfect time to contact clients. I drafted a WeChat message and sent it to all the major players.

“Full-service strategist Zhao Zhiyong: Lunar New Year mega-deals! Lanhai rewards loyal clients—spend 10,000 on advertising, get 1,000 back. Don’t miss this opportunity! Wishing you prosperity in the Year of the Goat. Welcome to consult on advertising services. Lanhai’s Zhao Zhiyong is always here to support you.”

My name is Zhao Chuan. My mother gave me that name, and it sounds like Zhao San, or kind of like Zhang San—doesn’t sound like a good person.

A sales alias can strengthen personal brand and boost client recall. Zhao Zhiyong is my alias, representing wisdom and courage, trustworthy.

It sounds very reliable.

To make a good impression on clients, I used the “Zhao Zhiyong” alias and worked in sales at Lanhai for five years.

The tens of thousands of messages I’d sent to major clients before had all disappeared without a trace, never getting a response, until today—

“Pinsheng Shen: [Location] Come over now”

It was Shen Yuesheng, CEO of Pinsheng Education Group!

I had a strong impression of this person because his WeChat was hard to add.

The client list only had phone numbers. Shen Yuesheng didn’t answer calls, and I couldn’t add his number on WeChat. I tried searching his phone number on Alipay to transfer money, and it showed the recipient as “*Yuesheng,” confirming the contact info was correct.

If the contact info was correct but I still couldn’t add him, it only meant he was very guarded. I had no choice but to ask Pinsheng’s former sales rep about the client.

With the former rep’s introduction, Shen Yuesheng finally accepted my WeChat friend request.

Shen Yuesheng’s Moments were divided into three categories: first, content responding to national policy calls and actively participating in vocational education charity work; second, content about Pinsheng event promotions, faculty introductions, and brand advantages; third, personal-colored content about cars, watches, and skateboarding.

That high-altitude skateboarding photo must have been edited. It was so handsome—at first glance, he looked like a celebrity.

Looking at a close-up photo, he was indeed quite handsome, but his skin was too pale, lacking some wildness. Nothing compared to someone like me—wheat-colored skin, nearly 1.9 meters tall, eight-pack abs, a pure man’s man.

He didn’t say what he needed, just told me to come over. It happened so suddenly, I had no time to prepare…

Forget it, whatever he needs, I’ll just do it!

Today the Lantern Festival god must be blessing me—people keep sending money my way.

What’s more important than making money during the holidays? As long as there’s money to be made, I’ll do anything!

“Full-service strategist Zhao Zhiyong: Got it, I’ll definitely be there in 20 minutes [wink]”

I’d only seen major clients in news and advertising contract sections before, standing under spotlights, polished and untouchable.

I’d exhausted every method trying to connect with them, but because of the huge class gap and lack of connections or networks, I always hit walls. Watching competitors sign deals and colleagues celebrate victories, I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning, always holding onto a stubborn determination.

Today is cruel, the day after tomorrow is beautiful. I’m so grateful that through my persistent effort, day after day of message bombardment, I’ve finally made it through tomorrow night and can meet a real major client!

The location Shen Yuesheng sent wasn’t a Pinsheng campus or some luxury villa complex, but an apartment on West Third Ring.

I’d closed deals in sock warehouses, chased payments by the seaside, signed contracts in trucks… For a sales rep, the negotiation location doesn’t matter. But for a first meeting, Shen Yuesheng asking me to come here felt strange no matter how I thought about it.

Normally, if someone wanted to sign a contract, they’d meet at the group headquarters. If they wanted more kickbacks, they’d usually meet at a high-end karaoke bar. Only old clients wanting to deepen their relationship with a sales rep would invite them home.

Shen Yuesheng wasn’t my old client. Why would he want to deepen his relationship with me?

Also, this place was sparsely populated, with no major shopping centers nearby. It didn’t look like where a billionaire CEO would live.

Meeting here, it seemed less like discussing a partnership and more like doing something shady and illegal.

The street was silver and white with snow. The parking lot had few cars. Two unlit ice sculptures stood at the apartment entrance. The building had no security, and the elevator didn’t require a card.

I bounded up to room 609 with light, quick steps, pressing the doorbell very nervously.

“Come in.” Shen Yuesheng opened the door, his body hidden behind it, his face unclear.

I forced out a big smile. “Hello, CEO Shen. I’m Zhao Zhiyong from Lanhai, the one who just sent you that WeChat.”

Shen Yuesheng nodded and turned to walk into the apartment. His long legs didn’t fill out his pants, his back looked thin, and he was probably no taller than me—at least 1.8 meters though.

People who look good in photos are usually thin in real life. People like me who look good in reality have to use Photoshop to look good in photos.

The apartment was new, with few furnishings, dust on the windowsill, looking like nobody lived there regularly. A pair of slippers sat on the floor, clearly prepared for me.

I changed into the slippers and entered, speaking enthusiastically: “Happy Lantern Festival, CEO Shen!”

“Happy.”

Shen Yuesheng’s voice was very soft, and he looked listless, his complexion even paler than in the photos—like a celebrity who’d been starving for years, lacking vital energy.

Just by appearance, he looked about my age, but with advanced technology these days, women in their 50s can ride the waves, and my leader looks about my age too. How could someone be a CEO in their 20s? Shen Yuesheng was probably a man in his 40s.

To be safe, my opening remarks should be a bit more oily, showing proper respect to a major client big brother never hurt.

“I heard Pinsheng just submitted its IPO application at the start of the year. Congratulations on the upcoming listing, CEO Shen.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m a native of Yucheng, and I’ve personally witnessed Pinsheng grow from three or five tutoring institutions into a chain education group with over a hundred schools. I’ve wanted to work with you for a long time, but never had the chance. Today it’s just a coincidence. Meeting is fate, and I…”

Shen Yuesheng interrupted: “Do all Lanhai sales reps talk this disgustingly?”

“…”

He really had a sharp tongue.