I Turned Out to Be the Dead White Moonlight of the Canary - Chapter 16

“You came here yourself—I thought you’d be more attentive.” Zhao Tingran took a sip of coffee and shook her head with a smile.

She was Song Shi’an’s senior, the marketing manager Song had specifically poached.

Song Shi’an came to her only because they were more familiar with each other; Zhao Tingran wasn’t Yan Sheng’s direct superior.

“Why are you learning from those people?” Zhao Tingran wasn’t a rich second-generation heir—she had gotten into Nan University, where Song Shi’an studied, through her own excellence.

By chance, she met Song Shi’an. At the time, Zhao Tingran and a few friends had started their own studio, which Song Shi’an happened to see and found interesting, so she invested some money.

But the studio eventually went under because the partners were too arrogant and refused to listen to advice.

Song Shi’an admired Zhao Tingran and introduced her to a few opportunities after graduation. Later, it proved that Song Shi’an had a good eye.

When Song started her own company, Zhao Tingran happened to want to leave her job—her previous company had severe internal conflicts after a change in leadership, which she disliked. So, Song Shi’an naturally poached her.

Song Shi’an lounged lazily on the sofa: “It’s not that I dislike it—I just don’t play with feelings.”

“If it’s just being a lover, I pay, and she provides emotional value. That way, I don’t have to coax anyone.” Song Shi’an said it as if it were the most natural thing.

“I won’t pretend to be gentle, make them think I actually like them, and then tell them they’re just a plaything—that I only need a fixed bed partner who’s always available.”

Zhao Tingran gave her a look: “You’re not much better—still a bit of a scumbag.”

Song Shi’an shrugged: “Whatever.”

Meanwhile, Yan Sheng followed HR to complete her onboarding and was then taken to meet the editorial department’s leadership.

Since it was a newly established short video company, the staff were all quite young.

But Yan Sheng actually recognized one of the editors.

It was her former team leader from a part-time job. Back then, she occasionally took on scriptwriting gigs, with short dramas being one of them.

In fact, it was her current boss who had personally taught her the ropes back then.

Wen Lan hadn’t expected the new hire to be someone she knew from before. She was also surprised when she saw Yan Sheng.

Song Shi’an hadn’t mentioned that she was the one placing Yan Sheng there—she had discussed it with Zhao Tingran in advance, asking her to recommend someone.

So even Wen Lan only knew that Yan Sheng was Zhao Tingran’s recommendation and had no idea about her connection to Song Shi’an. Plus, Wen Lan had been holed up in her office working on scripts all day and hadn’t heard about Song Shi’an bringing Yan Sheng in.

“Sheng Sheng? It’s really you?” Wen Lan said excitedly.

She knew exactly how capable Yan Sheng was—after all, she had trained her herself.

Right now, the company was in desperate need of good scriptwriters.

The higher-ups didn’t want to follow the usual cringe-inducing trends of short dramas, but those who applied to short video companies usually only knew how to write in that style.

The more high-end writers looked down on their company, preferring to work on web series scripts rather than join a short video team.

HR was surprised and asked with a smile, “Manager Wen, you two know each other?”

“You know her? Yansheng is someone I personally mentored.” Wen Lan asked cheerfully again, “So you’re the one joining today?”

Yansheng nodded shyly, “Yes, that’s right.”

Since they knew each other, HR skipped the introductions: “Since you’re already acquainted, that makes things easier. Manager Wen, please arrange her work assignments.”

“Alright, you can go about your business then.”

Wen Lan pulled Yansheng aside to ask why she had come here. Yansheng hesitated to explain, simply saying she couldn’t continue at the editorial office.

Being a seasoned veteran, Wen Lan could roughly guess what had happened.

She didn’t press further and instead discussed work matters, assigning her a team leader in the process.

Song Shi’an and Zhao Tingran had been chatting for nearly two hours, and Yansheng still hadn’t returned.

Growing impatient, Song Shi’an asked, “Does onboarding take this long?”

“If you’re in such a hurry, why don’t you call and ask yourself? Isn’t she your sweetheart?” Zhao Tingran teased.

Song Shi’an considered it but decided against it. With nothing else to do, she wandered around Zhao Tingran’s office.

“If you really have nothing better to do, I suggest you go to your own office and handle some paperwork. There are still a few documents waiting for your signature.”

Song Shi’an: “……”

“Fine. I’m going on a month-long trip starting tomorrow. Once I sign these, don’t bother me for the rest of the month.”

Zhao Tingran sighed. She wished she could go on trips all the time too, but alas, she was just an employee.

Song Shi’an was shooed out of Zhao Tingran’s office and obediently tackled the pile of pending tasks in her own.

Just as she finished, Yansheng returned, escorted by Zhao Tingran’s assistant to Song Shi’an’s office.

Rubbing her wrist, Song Shi’an looked at Yansheng. “All done?”

Yansheng nodded obediently. “Yes, everything’s settled. I can start work directly when the time comes.”

Song Shi’an gave a slight nod. “Good.”

“Let’s go. Time for dinner, then home.” Song Shi’an shut down her computer, eager to leave this place behind.

Every time she came here, Zhao Tingran would rope her into work.

Even though Zhao Tingran could handle things perfectly fine without her, she insisted on dragging Song Shi’an in occasionally.

Though Zhao Tingran was the marketing manager, she also held the title of company vice president.

She had full authority to manage company affairs, yet she refused to do so alone, frequently summoning Song Shi’an instead.

Song Shi’an grabbed her handbag and instinctively reached out to Yansheng.

Realizing how naturally the gesture came, she couldn’t very well withdraw her hand now.

Yansheng happily took her hand, and Song Shi’an didn’t dwell on it, simply leading her out.

Wen Lan hadn’t seen them arrive, but she noticed them leaving.

Her gaze unconsciously fell on their intertwined hands. A team leader from the same department whispered, “See? I told you the new hire and President Song are close. I saw them when they arrived.”

Wen Lan tapped her head lightly. “Enough gossip. Just focus on your work.”

“But I’m curious! With all the rumors about President Song’s string of boyfriends and girlfriends, how long will this new colleague last? Pity, though—I still ship President Song and Miss Yan. Two wealthy heiresses, childhood friends… now that’s a pairing worth rooting for.” The team leader rested her chin on her hand.

Wen Lan: “……”

These youngsters and their obsession with shipping couples.

She sighed softly in her heart. She had initially thought it was nice to meet Yan Sheng again.

Who would have thought he already had someone better.

It was her own fault for not daring to speak up.

“But the new colleague is really pretty. The director from the next department just said he wants to recruit her to shoot videos and have her play the female lead.”

“Don’t you need acting skills to shoot videos?” Wen Lan said irritably.

“How many short drama actors nowadays actually have acting skills?” The team leader shrugged, feeling such things barely existed in short dramas.

Yan Sheng had no idea someone was lamenting how her looks were wasted by not acting.

Forget short dramas—with her looks, she could easily star in proper TV series.

It’s just that her acting might not be up to par.

Meanwhile, the very person being pitied was following Song Shi’an to a seemingly ordinary luosifen river snail rice noodle shop today.

“This place makes great luosifen, and it’s close to home, so delivery is quick,” Song Shi’an enthusiastically recommended the shop to Yan Sheng.

The fact that Song Shi’an would eat luosifen genuinely surprised Yan Sheng.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t eat it, but Yan Sheng had a stereotypical impression that Song Shi’an wouldn’t.

[Song Shi’an isn’t some domineering CEO. In the original story, she was just a spoiled heiress who only knew how to party and had zero clue about managing a company. That’s why the Song family collapsed so quickly under Cheng Yunchang’s schemes.]

Shi Jiu popped up again to slander Song Shi’an.

Yan Sheng thought it was completely wrong—Song Shi’an was neither a frivolous socialite nor incompetent at business.

Wasn’t this short video company, Crane Dream, running perfectly well now?

Yan Sheng didn’t want to listen to its nonsense.

Stop badmouthing my sister.

Shi Jiu: “……”

This counted as badmouthing?

Don’t be too lovesick. Shi Jiu said flatly.

I just like her, that’s all. Yan Sheng openly admitted her feelings.

Shi Jiu had nothing to say again.

Love-struck fools always end up getting hurt.

She would never hurt me. Yan Sheng refused to believe Song Shi’an would mistreat her.

Shi Jiu only scoffed.

In any relationship, the one who falls first is destined to suffer. It was just waiting for this stubborn fool to cry—and when that happened, it definitely wouldn’t hand her any tissues.