The restaurant Zhang Xingchuan brought Tan Xiao to also required reservations. Its specialty was Cantonese morning tea. By lunchtime on the second day of New Year, every normal table had long been booked. Zhang Xingchuan contacted a client manager in advance and prepaid some money online. When they arrived, a private room appeared smoothly.
After the food came, Tan Xiao tried several dishes and was very satisfied. “I haven’t been here before. I like Cantonese food.”
Zhang Xingchuan noticed he preferred sweet flavors and ordered egg tarts and dried-tangerine-peel red-bean soup as well.
“I thought your tongue was broken,” Zhang Xingchuan said. “So you can tell good food from bad.”
The president occasionally had a mean mouth too.
Tan Xiao refused to indulge him. “I may need to burn some paper money tonight.”
Zhang Xingchuan looked baffled. “What?”
Tan Xiao sighed. “Those poor little pieces of seafood in last night’s risotto must have died unable to close their eyes in peace. I feel guilty. I should hold a memorial service and help their souls move on.”
Zhang Xingchuan was holding chopsticks and considered poking Tan Xiao with them, but remembered they were oily from food and stopped himself.
Tan Xiao solemnly defended his palate. “My tongue is extremely sensitive.”
A server had just poured fragrant Phoenix Dancong tea. Tan Xiao was still privately pleased with himself and did not pay attention. He lifted the cup and took a drink. The tea burned him properly. He quickly set it down and fanned his mouth with one hand.
Zhang Xingchuan asked the server for a glass of cool water.
Tan Xiao held the water in his mouth for a while. The pain gradually faded. It was not serious.
“I burned my mouth just from eating,” he said, mocking himself. “I’m ridiculous.”
Only then did Zhang Xingchuan gloat. “Now that ultra-sensitive tongue really is broken.”
Tan Xiao responded in a tone of delighted celebration. “Wonderful. If Brother Xingchuan cooks again tonight, kiddo won’t be able to tell how terrible it is.”
“…” Zhang Xingchuan decided he should find time to improve his cooking.
After lunch they returned home. The afternoon sun was warm. Beijing had unusually good weather these days. The second day of the lunar year happened to fall on the solar term Rain Water. Spring had not yet fully arrived, but the temperature already felt almost like April.
Scarborough Fair played through the car speakers. In the passenger seat, Tan Xiao whistled along with the melody, his mood as bright as the sunlight flooding the city.
Zhang Xingchuan drove through New Year streets decorated with lanterns and Chinese knots. This was an extraordinarily pleasant Spring Festival.
On the third day of the lunar year, WenCheng’s President’s Office returned to work. Special Assistant Jiaxin arrived on time. Quite a while passed, but the desk beside hers, belonging to intern Tan Xiao, remained empty.
After the holiday, Tan Xiao was supposed to transfer to the Financial Business Division. That division’s work was not directly tied to travel services, and it would not fully resume until the eighth day of the lunar month. Whether Tan Xiao came in before then was optional.
Jiaxin assumed he might simply not return to the President’s Office and felt slightly regretful.
She had just handled a few emails when Tan Xiao hurried in from outside and smiled apologetically when he saw her. “Went back to school for my laptop. I’m a little late.”
He had left Zhang Xingchuan’s home early, returned to campus to change clothes, and needed his badge and computer too.
“Did you go somewhere for New Year?” Jiaxin asked.
“No.” Naturally Tan Xiao would not say he had spent it at the president’s house. “A friend invited me to spend New Year at his place.”
Jiaxin treated this male university intern like a younger brother and teasingly asked, “Girlfriend or boyfriend?”
Tan Xiao looked at her with perfect sincerity. “A beautiful, sincere, and generous good friend.”
Seeing that he did not want to elaborate, Jiaxin respected the boundary and did not pursue it. Instead she pulled a red envelope from her bag and handed it over. “Happy Year of the Horse!”
Tan Xiao accepted with both hands. “Wishing you prosperity!”
Zhang Xingchuan arrived relatively late. After reaching the company, he went first to Technology, then Product, checking on business and greeting employees working during the holiday. He served up a few pie-in-the-sky promises and handed out several rounds of red envelopes. It was almost eleven before he finally came upstairs.
On the first day back, everyone in the President’s Office had their own tasks. Few people were sitting at their desks. No one was around Tan Xiao. He had helped Jiaxin modify several reports and had nothing else to do, so he started slacking off and working on his own paper.
Zhang Xingchuan walked behind him and watched for a while. Tan Xiao did not notice.
Tan Xiao had left early that morning and had not asked Zhang Xingchuan to drive him. Back at school, he had changed into his young-office-worker skin: a light mock-neck base layer beneath a denim shirt. Fresh, energetic, perfectly suited to his intern identity.
He dressed very differently for work and play. When he came to work, he looked like someone who had come to work.
During New Year, he had worn that peacock-blue velvet shirt with pearls at the collar, paired with black floor-length trousers. If Zhang Xingchuan encountered a stranger dressed like that on the street, the straight male programmer in him would instantly develop trendy-person phobia.
But Tan Xiao’s personal presence was strong. His skin practically glowed white, his hair shone black, his face was good-looking, and he was tall. He could dress fashionably without the clothes overwhelming him. He simply looked beautiful.
Were gay men naturally more fashionable? Or was Tan Xiao personally unusually good at dressing?
Zhang Xingchuan had too few gay men in his observational sample to reach any reliable conclusion.
He did not disturb Tan Xiao and simply walked away.
Tan Xiao noticed only then. Turning around, he caught the back of the president entering his office.
The president had barely sat down behind his desk when a WeChat message from Tan Xiao arrived.
Tan Xiao: Did the president just catch me slacking off on company time?
Zhang Xingchuan looked up through the glass. Tan Xiao waved his phone at him from his desk.
A reply soon appeared. Zhang Xingchuan: The president will not report you to HR.
Tan Xiao sat at his desk and quietly enjoyed himself for a while.
He did not bother the president again. The first day back was inevitably busy.
Zhang Xingchuan truly was busy. Entrepreneurs were generally people who could not sit still. He had given himself three days off for New Year and unexpectedly experienced three days that felt almost like a hidden paradise.
Now that he was back at the company, the king of grinding switched modes instantly. His appetite for work shot through the ceiling.
On the eighth day of the lunar month, Tan Xiao packed his things and moved to the Financial Business Division.
By the time Zhang Xingchuan had a free moment and remembered him, the temporary desk where Tan Xiao had been sitting already belonged to another new young employee in the President’s Office.
Through the glass partition, Zhang Xingchuan looked at the changed desk and felt a faint, unexpected sense of loss.
Tan Xiao, meanwhile, was being personally taught by Vice President Sun in the Financial Business Division.
He had met Sun before. The day Tan Xiao first ran into Zhang Xingchuan in the elevator after starting his internship, Sun had been standing beside him.
By the time Tan Xiao transferred over, more than half his winter internship had already passed. Vice President Sun genuinely had no idea what position would make sense for him.
If Tan Xiao were an ordinary intern, they could simply assign him miscellaneous work. But this was one of Zhang Xingchuan’s people, parachuted directly from the President’s Office. Who knew whether he might even be here as the president’s eyes and ears?
Sun felt uncomfortable handing him off to someone else, so he simply kept Tan Xiao with himself.
With a top executive who adored playing Bole, WenCheng as a whole had developed a strong culture of hiring and promoting on merit.
Vice President Sun was also a practical operator. He held an Ivy League MBA, had Wall Street experience, and was excellent at his job. He worked decisively and fast.
Tan Xiao followed him for several days and quite liked him. Sun was good in nearly every way except that he had a bad temper, his mood shifted unpredictably, and he was slightly paranoid. His work could be excellent and that personality would still make him easy to dislike.
Of course, Tan Xiao still liked Zhang Xingchuan better.
Although he was content to be a salted fish, he genuinely loved learning and was exceptionally intelligent. Within a few days, he had found his feet working under Vice President Sun too.
At first, Vice President Sun had suspected Zhang Xingchuan of ulterior motives. Sun was not part of WenCheng’s founding team and had joined only after the company listed. He still did not know Zhang Xingchuan especially well. He had never discovered any actual misconduct, but his naturally suspicious mind kept wondering whether the smiling president might secretly be black-hearted.
After carefully observing Tan Xiao for several days, however, Sun discovered that this Qing University Finance PhD candidate was genuinely useful. His professional ability went without saying. He was also extraordinarily perceptive, good at handling matters, good at speaking, liked by everyone in the division, and impressive when Sun brought him to meetings with other departments.
The president had handed Sun such an excellent intern. Clearly, Zhang Xingchuan trusted both the Financial Business Division and Vice President Sun himself.
Therefore, the president was probably a good president after all.
Zhang Xingchuan also heard that Tan Xiao was performing very well in his new role. Even Vice President Sun, who habitually viewed the world through a dark filter, gave Tan Xiao a surprisingly sunny evaluation.
Sometimes Zhang Xingchuan wanted to see Tan Xiao, but had no suitable opportunity or reason.
The president casually summoning an intern into his office for private chats would not look good.
In the blink of an eye, the Lantern Festival arrived.
Zhang Xingchuan received a WeChat message from Tan Xiao: Happy Lantern Festival!
It might have been an insincere mass greeting, so he did not reply immediately.
A second message quickly followed. Tan Xiao: The cafeteria has tangyuan today. Have you eaten? I can pack some and bring them upstairs.
Only then did Zhang Xingchuan reply. Zhang Xingchuan: Not at the office. Out handling something. Eating lunch outside.
Tan Xiao: Oh, okay.
Zhang Xingchuan: How have you been lately? Is the Financial Business Division fun?
Tan Xiao: Pretty good. I still have a lot to learn. Thank you, President, for your concern about my work.
Zhang Xingchuan went silent again.
Tan Xiao waited and stared at the chat window, wondering whether his wording had been too distant and the president no longer wanted to talk to him.
He had already discovered that Zhang Xingchuan was extremely susceptible to sweet talk.
Tan Xiao: I’m joking with you, brother.
A phone call had come in for Zhang Xingchuan, so he answered that first. After finishing, he looked back at WeChat. Was Tan Xiao coaxing him? How rebellious, kiddo. Managing upward again.
Tan Xiao was eating alone in the employee cafeteria. He had already finished his meal and was idly waiting for Zhang Xingchuan to answer.
He actually missed Zhang Xingchuan a little. He wanted to go find him and play, but knew Zhang Xingchuan rarely had free time.
Zhang Xingchuan finally replied: Had to take a call. Happy Lantern Festival.
Tan Xiao thought about it. He still wanted to go find him.
Tan Xiao: Coming back to the office this afternoon? Can I go upstairs and find you after work?
Zhang Xingchuan was in a business car heading elsewhere. He sat in the back seat and slowly read Tan Xiao’s message word by word, mentally reviewing his appointments for the next couple of days and looking for somewhere to squeeze out a gap.
The screen stayed lit too long and automatically went dark. When Zhang Xingchuan went to reply, the black screen reflected a handsome face smiling back at him.
Your smile is embarrassingly easy to buy, Zhang Xingchuan, he privately evaluated himself. Tan Xiao asks to hang out and you’re already this happy?
Zhang Xingchuan: Tomorrow. Come to my office at noon. We’ll have lunch together.
Tan Xiao: Yes! See you tomorrow!
The next morning, at eleven-thirty, Zhang Xingchuan finished everything he had scheduled and deliberately cleared a large block of lunchtime for Tan Xiao.
Tan Xiao came upstairs happily for the appointment. He ran into Jiaxin and chatted with her outside for a while before finally knocking on Zhang Xingchuan’s office door.
Through the glass partition, Zhang Xingchuan had already watched him talking to Jiaxin. The soundproofing was excellent, so he could not hear the words, but from Tan Xiao’s mouth movements he could tell it was Sister Jiaxin, Sister Jiaxin over and over. No idea what they were talking about.
The president had already asked for two work lunches to be delivered. They sat nearby.
Tan Xiao entered and immediately said, “Smells good. What is it today? I’m starving.”
He had once spent enough time in this office as the special assistant’s “special assistant” and had even helped the administrative staff deliver the president’s lunches. Compared with the employee cafeteria buffet, they were not more luxurious, simply more nutritionally balanced.
“Then why were you dawdling outside so long?” Zhang Xingchuan asked.
Tan Xiao sat down, aggrieved. “I wasn’t dawdling. I came upstairs the moment lunch break started.”
Zhang Xingchuan thought: I saw you. I saw you, all right?
“What were you talking to Jiaxin about?” the president asked, an acidic note slipping into his voice without him noticing. “You looked very happy.”
Tan Xiao heard the tone but did not read deeply into it. He assumed Zhang Xingchuan was teasing him and explained, “Sister Jiaxin’s younger brother wants to learn fencing. I have equipment I don’t use anymore, so I said I’d give it to him.”
“You learned fencing too?”
“A little.”
Qing University had a fencing club, which Zhang Xingchuan knew. “Were you in the fencing club?”
“No. I didn’t learn through a school club. I learned before, just for fun.”
During the summer and winter breaks when he returned to Europe, his family had arranged many tedious lessons. Fencing had been one of them.
Zhang Xingchuan automatically imagined Tan Xiao in fencing whites, foil in hand. He would probably look very handsome.
“You don’t do it anymore?” Zhang Xingchuan sounded faintly regretful. “Why give the equipment away too?”
“I still fence occasionally. Sister Jiaxin’s brother is only ten. I can give him the size-two épée and protective gear I don’t use anymore.”
“You fence épée?” Zhang Xingchuan was slightly surprised. Most recreational fencers started with foil.
Tan Xiao was also surprised Zhang Xingchuan knew that. Then again, this was Zhang Xingchuan. It somehow did not feel surprising for him to know anything.
Tan Xiao had developed an almost blind approval of him by now.
One could accurately describe it as a Zhang Xingchuan Total Approval System.