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墨書 Inktalez
His words sounded as official as a government statement. His gaze did not particularly focus on anyone, yet it felt as if he were staring directly at each person, causing a rush of anxiety. When one dared to meet his eyes, they would quickly look down in shyness.
It felt as though a warning bell had rung in their hearts, leaving them shaken.
Fortunately, there was a sense of relief; it was not their turn to report. Most of the responsibility fell on their managers. There were whispers that no matter how experienced or silver-tongued a manager was, they would spend the night before the annual report preparing their notes, unable to sleep.
“I don’t need you to tell me such grandiose statements; many people have already said them. What I want to hear is something you should be very clear about. I mentioned long ago that during your development, whether it’s resources, packaging strategies, publicity, charting, or any advantageous methods, I won’t hold back on any of them.”
At this point, he set down his pen and looked sharply at everyone present. His fleeting gaze spoke volumes in the silence that followed.
“Meeting adjourned.”
“Phew, honestly, if I had to stay one more second, I would suffocate,” someone remarked.
“Who can argue with that? After so many times, I still haven’t built up an immunity,” another artist sighed in relief as they slumped back in their chairs the moment he exited the conference room, as if they had just endured a torturous ordeal.
“Every time I meet President Mo—”
“Don’t say it! Don’t say it, Assistant Chen! Oh no, here we go again,” someone interrupted.
The conference room door swung open once more, and all whispers ceased abruptly as they watched Assistant Chen stride toward the second seat on the right.
“Sister Ning, President Mo is looking for you.”
He Shuning was scrolling through the music notifications on her phone. Since she had followed the account, any relevant updates would be pushed to her device immediately, including interactions from fans.
One message caught her eye—a fan had commented under their song, saying, "I finally saw your true selves at Qin Cuty's Music Festival! It was a delightful surprise, like winning a grand prize while already in a state of happiness."
Below that were other fans chiming in, asking, "What? Qin Cuty's Music Festival? When was that? I feel like I missed out on a fortune."
"When did this happen? It was so low-key; not a single sound was released."
"Exactly! You have no idea how much I've been imagining what they look like."
Scrolling further down, she saw the first fan's reply again: "Tell everyone, Wilderness Brother Ye is super handsome—way more than I imagined! His charisma is extraordinary; I think he has more charm than those top-tier male stars. Fans are totally winning here! ❤️❤️"
He Shuning casually tapped 'like' on that reply.
There were more questions from fans below, but the original poster had not responded.
“Shuning, Shuning, President Mo is looking for you,” Sini said as she noticed He Shuning was completely absorbed in her phone. Assistant Chen spoke beside her, but it seemed like He Shuning didn’t hear a thing; her gaze remained fixed on one page.
Sini gently tapped her shoulder to get her attention. He Shuning finally looked up, and the smile on her face faded to just a shadow.
“Let’s go,” Sini said with an apologetic smile towards Assistant Chen.
Mo Chenglin's office and the president's office occupied the entire top floor of the company, accessible only by a private elevator, making it rare for employees to catch a glimpse of him.
His office was decorated in a style that mirrored his personality—always gray and somber, with hardly a hint of color. The carpet was a gray French design, and the overall decor had a cool tone, with even the lighting casting a cold white glow.
He Shuning disliked coming here; standing in this space evoked a sense of oppression, making her feel heavy and weighed down, with her footsteps echoing this feeling most clearly.
Sini did not follow her; Assistant Chen left after opening the door for her.
She stood at the entrance, pinching her fingers nervously before stepping into this territory that belonged solely to him.
He stood with his back to her, holding a cup of tea while gazing out at the distant view from the floor-to-ceiling window, resembling a statue.
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