Xia Zhaoyun slung a navy-blue satchel with a five-pointed star over her shoulder. Inside were just some promotional flyers for the Golden Microphone competition, copies of past award-winning speeches, a handkerchief, a fountain pen, a stack of manuscript paper, a set of keys, and an army-green water bottle. It was safe to say that aside from her own body and the keys, everything she had on her was sponsored by her friends!

And the bicycle she was currently pedaling...

Director Huo was the head of the Zhaoyang Clothing Factory, managing just under nine thousand employees. It wasn’t for nothing that he had made the factory flourish.

He was said to be meticulous and uncompromising in his dealings, holding himself, his subordinates, and all work-related metrics to exacting standards.

At the same time, however, he wasn’t one to be bound by convention. On the contrary, as a progressive intellectual who had studied abroad in his youth, Director Huo knew how to motivate people to learn and work hard.

The top performers in every department were given the opportunity to visit other companies for exchange and study each quarter. This was a distinct honor, a coveted position that everyone strove for.

It increased work efficiency while also making employees study hard of their own accord. He really had people working their tails off for him without them even realizing it.

Furthermore, he had also found creative ways to transform the once-stagnant, predictable wage system. When faced with questions, he would offer a single reply: he was answering the call of the organization and its leadership by strictly implementing the principles of seeking truth from facts and rewarding hard work. As a result, things like attendance bonuses, performance awards, and overtime subsidies all became tools to spur his employees on from every angle.

He also led by example. He rarely sat in his office; Director Huo was always on the front lines, essentially forging himself into an all-around expert.

Not only that, but he was also strict and demanding with his own children. Otherwise, how could he have raised a hero as outstanding as Huo Tianhao?

A faint, mocking smile touched Xia Zhaoyun’s lips.

’When a man is too focused on his career, he doesn’t have much energy left for his family.’

In her memory, this director would work himself to the bone. Coupled with his disappointing descendants, he would end up barely hanging on, forced to break his own back and humbly beg Tong Yuanbin to take over the entire factory. A lifetime of hard work, handed over to someone else on a silver platter!

Director Huo was a giant, and Tong Yuanbin was the lucky one who got to stand on his shoulders...

And so, early that morning, the director had already taken a group of people to Finished Goods Workshop Three. The call had come from there, and it was from there that he had summoned her.

After returning to her dorm to change into pants and a shirt, she rode her bike for nearly twenty minutes under the scorching sun, which seemed to be watching the spectacle. Xia Zhaoyun was slightly out of breath when she arrived at Finished Goods Workshop Three, only to be told that the director had just left in his old-fashioned car for Warehouse Five.

She rushed over without a moment’s rest, managing to intercept him just as he was getting into the car to head to yet another location.

"Director Huo," she said, her throat feeling like it was about to emit smoke. Her hair, soaked with a thin layer of sweat, was plastered to her forehead. "Hello, I’m Xia Zhaoyun from the Arts Troupe. You were looking for me?"

Director Huo stopped in his tracks. Waving the others away, he led Xia Zhaoyun aside to talk.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, looking her up and down.

Even for a man like him, who was completely devoted to his work and had decades of experience, he had to admit the young woman before him was absurdly beautiful. It was the kind of beauty that made it hard to look away, as if she were carved by the gods themselves. It was as if someone had gathered all the most wonderful things, sifted through millions of imperfections, and ended up with this one, breathtaking creation.

He frowned, his voice tinged with weariness and the weight of experience. "Young Comrade, is there something you need help with?"

Xia Zhaoyun chuckled softly and shook her head. "Director Huo, I’m fine. I don’t need any extra help."

"I heard about what happened in the cafeteria this morning." His face showed a trace of pain and displeasure. "You’re still young. You have a bright future ahead of you. You don’t need to tie yourself to Tianhao."

"If there’s something you want, you’d be better off just saying it directly. Perhaps I can help you with one or two things. But if you’re using Tianhao’s name to play games, then don’t blame me for being unpleasant!"

Xia Zhaoyun’s expression was placid. "This is between me and Brother Hao. Nowadays in Xiahua, men and women are free to love and marry whomever they choose, without needing parental consent. Besides, I’m only holding on to the memory of Brother Hao."

"Director Huo, I do believe you’re the last person who has any right to be saying this to me."

"If you had cared about him as a son in the slightest, he absolutely would not be lying there cold right now, forcing you, a gray-haired man, to bury one with black hair!"

"So, what exactly do you think I’m trying to gain from you by suddenly getting involved with Brother Hao at a time like this?"