The clock rewound to a little over two months ago.
Early May in Nancheng brought the subtle stirrings of sultry heat.
~~~
To be honest, right up until that day, Jiang Zao had been absolutely convinced that nothing could top the misfortune of spiking a high fever the day before her postgraduate entrance exam.
Then the announcement from leadership came down—she’d carefully picked Feida from among three or five job offers, and now that very company was being officially acquired by an up-and-coming tech firm.
Her internship hadn’t even converted to full-time yet, and poof—the company was gone.
…
…
Ah?
Jiang Zao trailed her colleagues into the meeting room, sat through leadership’s rundown of the post-acquisition reorganization for the entire marketing planning department, and watched as the crowd dispersed amid hushed, anxious murmurs. All the while, she remained utterly dazed.
It felt exactly like that night before her first shot at the exam, thermometer clutched in her hand flashing 38.5 degrees Celsius—a total fog of helplessness.
Feida was a courier tech company. Objectively speaking, it couldn’t hold a candle to the industry leaders in sales, customer service, or market share—except when it came to ad creativity.
Those ads were memorable enough to carve out a modest niche for Feida in the cutthroat courier market.
In Jiang Zao’s eyes, the planning department was nothing short of a lifeline for the company. Working here was a goldmine for learning.
Plus, Feida gave rookies real shots at big projects. Nail a few standout campaigns, and jumping to a better-paying gig later would be a breeze.
“Hey, Jiang Zao.” Back at the office, her colleague Li Li rapped on her desk and whispered, “Heard you turned down Durex’s fat campus direct-hire offer for this internship at Feida?”
Her tone dripped with regret and pity—the implication crystal clear.
Nancheng hugged the coast as the glittering heart of the Yangtze River Delta. By early May, the air was already restless, and with the planning department’s central AC on the fritz, everyone was griping about the heat.
But Jiang Zao, parked at her workstation, felt a chill creep down her back to match her mood.
She tilted her head and mustered a stiff smile for Li Li. “It wasn’t that great a salary anyway.”
Li Li: “…”
“Just hope your taste in guys isn’t as off as your taste in offers.”
Jiang Zao deflated like a soggy cotton candy, hands buried in her hair as she slumped over the desk in full shutdown mode.
“…I’ll do better next time.”
Li Li dabbed at her sweat with a tissue, shot another glare at the useless AC, and shook her head in bewilderment. “But Durex ads are legendary in the biz. Why pass on that?”
“Too squeamish about working for a sex product company? Got a prejudice?”
“Nah, it’s not like that. What’s there to be weird about?”
A flash of surprise crossed Jiang Zao’s eyes as she glanced up, then she dropped her gaze again. “Mm… Feida just seemed like a better overall fit.”
Li Li let it drop, figuring there was no contest between this scrappy little survivor of a company and Durex’s China ops.
Probably just embarrassed. Brainstorming condom ads first thing every morning? Coming up with hooks around sex lives? Yeah, that’d spook anyone.
“You’re way too unlucky. You’ve interned clear through to May, master’s cert in July, full-time offer right around the corner—and bam, massive curveball.” She sighed and eyed Jiang Zao. “So, what’s your plan? You gonna go with them?”
Feida had been snapped up by Yunsheng, a tech outfit blazing ahead with flying vehicle R&D over the past three or four years. Insiders in the gossip group were buzzing: Yunsheng was huge now, not just dominating domestically but with sales in over a dozen countries overseas. They were building out their own logistics network and had zeroed in on Feida—solid tech despite the inept management keeping it middling.
But Yunsheng wasn’t just after the logistics; they coveted Feida’s pint-sized powerhouse of a planning department.
Yunsheng had been around nearly seven years, its boom in the last few fueled by rock-solid tech and buzzworthy products. Marketing? That was… debatable.
The department’s ads paled next to the viral posts from influencers and random netizens.
Folks online ribbed that Yunsheng came off like a crew of mute tech bros, nose-to-the-grindstone on products, all innovation and zero hype.
No wonder building a crack team to hype their new gear was priority one.
Yunsheng President’s Office reps had shown up at the meeting to walk everyone through the acquisition.
While other Feida departments twiddled thumbs awaiting whatever shake-up came post-deal, planning staff got two options.
Option one: Relocate to Yunsheng Headquarters in Qinnan City and join the Yunsheng Planning Department as official employees, with pay and perks matching their scale.
Second, sign the compensation contract, pocket several times the severance pay, and get laid off.
Truth be told, both options had their pros and cons, but neither was a bad deal.
Compared to Feida’s size and reputation, jumping to the Yunsheng Planning Department would be a seamless career upgrade—a huge leap forward on the resume.
That said, Yunsheng was a tech company, and its planning work was worlds apart from express delivery services. Not everyone could adapt, and if you didn’t cut it, you’d still get the boot.
So taking the severance package was perfectly acceptable too, with how generous it was.
After the meeting broke up, everyone buzzed about the news. Employees with families were especially torn. Their wives and kids were all in Nancheng, and suddenly switching to long-term remote work in another city would leave home in chaos.
Even for young folks without family obligations, picking up and moving to a strange city to live and work alone took real guts.
Li Li made her choice in a heartbeat: she was going with Yunsheng. She’d nearly killed herself at Feida just to go permanent, scraping by on her upgraded bachelor’s degree. There was no way she’d land a gig at a powerhouse like Yunsheng anywhere else.
Yunsheng was growing at a terrifying pace. In a few years, everyone would have one of their products, and going public was just around the corner.
Anyone who passed on this was a fool!
Li Li scooted even closer to Jiang Zao and kept chatting, grinning ear to ear. “You’re picking Yunsheng too, right? You’re not even from Nancheng originally. Working anywhere’s the same.”
“Plus, Qinnan City’s a rising star among second-tier cities. It’s not like snooty Nancheng, where even a Mi Xue shop can’t squeeze into the city center. Way friendlier to young people.”
But Jiang Zao just propped her chin on her hand, eyes fixed on the layoff compensation package and the Yunsheng direct-hire contract everyone had gotten. Her answer was the last thing Li Li expected. “I might not be leaving Nancheng.”
Li Li blinked in surprise. “Huh? No way… The cost of living here’s insane. You’ve been in Nancheng for eight years between your bachelor’s and master’s. You know that better than anyone.”
“Oh, right—I haven’t even asked. Where’s your hometown?”
Jiang Zao rarely talked about herself with others. She rubbed at the words on the contract, her brows slightly furrowed in conflict.
Her household registration was in Nancheng, but if they were talking hometown…
“Qinnan.”
Li Li went blank for a few seconds, even more baffled. Her voice rose. “Then what are you hesitating for!? My dear, what on earth are you thinking? You’d get to go home and have a great job!”
“I take back what I said about you being unlucky. This acquisition was made for you.”
Jiang Zao flipped the contract facedown on the table and shook her head. “I’ll think it over some more.”
Li Li got serious, her face stern. “Miss Jiang, give me one good reason why you need to agonize over this.”
Jiang Zao straightened up, fiddled with her computer for a moment, then shot her a sidelong glance. She flashed a serene smile and spouted pure nonsense. “…Too many Mi Xue shops in Qinnan City. That a problem?”
“I’m terrified of their mascot—that Pointy-Nosed Snow King that keeps twisting around. One look and I burst into tears.”
“That night, I’d have nightmares right away. I’d dream of a whole line of Snow Kings chasing me, jabbing at me with their noses.”
“…”
Li Li rolled her eyes so hard they nearly stuck. She was done.
You think you’re hilarious, huh?!!!
Must’ve gotten food poisoning from lunch. Total nutjob.
~~~
Everyone in the Planning Department had until Monday after work to reply. It was Friday now, so they had the whole weekend to mull it over.
As quitting time rolled around, a sudden rain hit downtown. Umbrellas popped up all over the streets like hasty domes, resembling bubbles swollen with pent-up breath. They clustered thick at bus stops and subway entrances, jostling until they burst.
Jiang Zao caught a sparsely crowded bus. She settled into her seat and reached for her music as usual, only to get interrupted by a call from Little Aunt.
She’d already guessed what it was about before picking up. With a soft sigh, she answered. “Hello?”
“Why haven’t you replied to my message?” Little Aunt didn’t sound annoyed—just her usual gentle tone, laced with a smile. “You off work yet? Eaten dinner?”
“Just got on the bus. What’s up?”
“That guy I mentioned—the date’s set for Sunday. Don’t forget to meet him.” Little Aunt was arranging blind dates for her again, her voice earnest and patient. “His parents are lovely people, and he’s got great prospects. Well-off family, dad’s a university professor.”
“I only connected with them through a bunch of mutual contacts, total stroke of luck.”
Jiang Zao stayed quiet. She wanted to refuse on instinct, but the words wouldn’t come out firm.
From childhood on, Little Aunt had been the kindest to her. She’d spent long stretches of her early years living with her. Little Aunt never lorded her elder status over her or barked orders. Still, she fussed over these little things for Jiang Zao’s sake.