“It’s all thanks to the president’s guidance. David is merely following your instructions.” While David Turner felt a huge sense of relief inside, he didn’t dare show even a hint of pride on his face. Instead, he deftly stepped forward, picked up the small coffee pot warming over the flame, and poured her a small cup of coffee. After several months, he had completely figured out the temperament and subtle habits of President Feifei Owen. This was David Turner’s way of survival, and the wisdom that allowed him to serve under three presidents without faltering.

Feifei Owen nodded lightly in thanks, picked up the delicate coffee cup and took a gentle sip, her beautiful eyes half-closed, letting the bitter yet rich flavor linger on her tongue. Between her brows, a trace of fatigue appeared unconsciously. She could only blame her best friend for this—who, after some unknown shock yesterday, dragged her to the women’s club’s exclusive bar and nearly drank through the night. In the private room, she cried, made a scene, and laughed, nothing like the decisive, domineering, and ruthless career woman Feifei Owen knew. It made the well-acquainted Feifei Owen genuinely curious: what kind of man could turn a woman even she feared a little into such a state? She looked just like a resentful wife abandoned after a fleeting affair. After all the tears and laughter, Feifei Owen finally understood that the whole fuss was because her friend had run into her first love—her secret crush, no less—and, most importantly, had only caught a fleeting glimpse…

This nearly drove Feifei Owen crazy—she’d comforted her for half the night for nothing, and let her wandering hands take advantage for free.

The ever-observant David Turner immediately spoke with concern and sincerity: “President, forgive David for speaking out of turn, but you really must take care to balance work and rest. If you’re tired, please rest in the inner office for a while. These past few months, your workload has been far too heavy. If you collapse from exhaustion, all the progress our company has made will vanish into thin air. If there’s any dirty or tiring work, David is willing to handle it for you.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Director Turner.” Feifei Owen gently rubbed her temples and said calmly, “There’s still someone coming for an interview at eight thirty…” As she spoke, she raised her hand, and her already chilly expression grew even colder.

Because the elegant hands of her beautiful ladies’ watch now pointed to eight thirty-one.

Tardiness—this instantly dropped Feifei Owen’s impression of the unseen applicant to rock bottom. Of course, if it were only tardiness, although Feifei Owen detested it, it wouldn’t be enough for her to utterly loathe someone.

What Feifei Owen found truly intolerable was that this person had gotten in through connections. The so-called interview was just a formality, a mere show.

She knew this was all too common in the country, but she still strongly resisted such behavior. The only reason she reluctantly broke her principles and agreed was because her boss personally called her, sobbing and sniffling, insisting that this person had to be hired, saying he owed a huge favor and would be wracked with guilt if he didn’t repay it. He even swore to the heavens that this would never happen again.

Helpless, Feifei Owen had no choice but to break her principles and previous agreements, and grit her teeth to accept. After all, Old Moore was not only her boss, but also an old friend of her father’s. Under the country’s powerful unspoken rules, she couldn’t just stand by and let Old Moore lose face, could she?

She agreed, but in her heart, Feifei Owen already loathed this Henry Walker to the extreme—especially since he even dared to be late. If it were just an ordinary employee position, she wouldn’t have to handle it personally. But first, Old Moore wanted him to take a senior position in the company. Second, she wanted to see for herself what abilities this backdoor candidate had—what could make Old Moore owe him such a big favor?

With her eyes half-closed, she rested and waited. Time ticked by, minute by minute.

Not until the hands of Feifei Owen’s watch pointed to eight forty-five did a man in a gray-white trench coat lazily push open the office door and stroll in as if nothing was amiss. He sniffed the air, a look of pleasant surprise in his eyes as he picked up the coffee pot, poured himself a cup, took a sip, and praised, “This is good stuff—top-quality Blue Mountain.”

At the same time, Feifei Owen noticed the disgusting stains on his wrinkled trench coat, and was hit by a complex, unpleasant stench of smoke, alcohol, and sourness.

……

Chapter 3: Open University of Radio and Television

……

Almost instinctively, Feifei Owen leaned back, her brows openly displaying her disgust. With people like this, Feifei Owen never bothered to hide her feelings. Dislike was dislike. Having lived, studied, and worked abroad for years, Feifei Owen would never pretend to be friendly or appreciative toward someone she disliked, no matter how powerful their connections—none of that concerned her.

It was only at this moment that Henry Walker seemed to notice the beauty behind the large office desk. He glanced at the middle-aged man standing by like a butler, then couldn’t help but chuckle, “Sorry, sorry, I drank too much last night and didn’t have time to change clothes. Your coffee is roasted really well—where did you buy it?”