“It might be for a client,” Yang Quan said, “I’m not sure.”
Ye Xijing continued looking down the list.
“VOGUE Fashion & Beauty,” “VOGUE” (Note: English, American, and Italian versions each subscribed to one copy).
“Yang Quan,” Ye Xijing asked, still not looking up, “Is my brother’s new project related to the fashion industry?”
“I have no idea,” Yang Quan replied with a smile, “I’m just a personal assistant.”
Ye Xijing put the magazine subscription list back on the table.
“I don’t know why my brother subscribes to these things,” he complained.
“One book, half ads. It’s so boring.”
The magazines that Ye Xijing called “boring” were carefully proofed, typeset, and printed.
Thick, smooth paper was printed with rich colors and fonts in the factory.
After binding, the side and cover were stamped with gold, passed quality control, and packed into transparent clean bags by machines.
The workers packing the magazines neatly stacked them into boxes and shipped them to various newsstands and libraries.
On September 10th, the publication day, at 8:40 PM, Qian Dailan, who was downstairs taking out the trash, was shivering from the cold evening breeze.
The small fruit shop nearby had only a few scattered customers, and the shopkeeper’s wife was moving the fruit baskets back into the house.
The cramped room was filled with a small adjustable reclining chair in the middle.
During the day, it was the shopkeeper’s little sofa, and at night, with bedding, it became a narrow single bed.
“Get married! Just marry a gray wolf! This kind of man is a role model!”
In the midst of the awful music, Qian Dailan, looking confused, took the three thick magazines from Yang Quan and hesitated, asking, “What is this?”
They were so heavy.
The books were so heavy that she almost thought Yang Quan was handing her three bricks.
The magazines were hard to the touch, incredibly smooth, and it was obvious they weren’t for wiping anything.
“These are the magazines my master subscribed to,” Yang Quan smiled.
“They were originally ordered for a client, but he accidentally ordered extra copies. My master said you might find them useful, so he asked me to bring them over.”
“Ah…?”
Qian Dailan was still confused as she looked down at the magazines.
Two were in English: The Economist and National Geographic.
The only Chinese magazine was VOGUE Fashion & Beauty, its side gleaming with gold.
“Oh, I see,” Yang Quan said, “My master said that the fourth book of New Concept English is mostly composed of excerpts from foreign classic literature, and the language is quite complex with a lot of technical terms.
It’s hard if you’re not planning to take the GRE or the TEM-8 exam, so he doesn’t recommend spending too much energy on it.”
Qian Dailan, still holding the heavy English magazines, wondered what the GRE was and what the TEM-8 exam was.
She’d only heard of “several eights.”
“So,” Qian Dailan understood, “He wants me to look at these?”
“Yes,” Yang Quan nodded.
“These are more suitable for your daily reading—of course, if you don’t like them, you don’t have to read them. My master also said that if you want to read them, go ahead; if not, just put them aside.
If you like to look at the pictures or just a certain section, that’s fine. It’s all up to your personal reading preferences. Don’t treat them as study materials.”
Qian Dailan hugged the magazines and said, “Thank you, and I appreciate you coming all the way over. Also, please thank brother for me. I’ll definitely make an effort to read these magazines and study hard, living up to his expectations.”
After politely saying goodbye, she walked down the dimly lit hallway of the building, holding the heavy and beautiful new magazines.
The distinct smell of fresh books and ink was faintly bitter, but she found it incredibly pleasant—not heavy at all.
In the dark hallway, with only the bright moonlight filtering through the small window above her head, she slowly walked up the stairs, the steps damp and dusty.
Even though she couldn’t see anything now.
In fact, Qian Dailan was struggling at her new job so much that she had no time to think about her relationship with Ye Xijing.
When you’re struggling to make a living, you really don’t have time for romance.
Because if she didn’t have a job, she’d be hungry.
Love couldn’t feed her.
The person guiding Qian Dailan was named Luna, a 26-year-old, gentle and calm, always smiling, speaking slowly, and had been the top sales for three consecutive months.
Along with the manager, there were eight female employees and two male employees at the store.
The shifts were from 9:30 AM to 9:30 PM, split into three shifts.
At least five employees were always present.
The store followed a one-on-one service model.
If there were no customers to attend to, the staff had to line up at the entrance in order of the customers who entered.
Qian Dailan learned a new English term, “Walk-in,” which refers to customers who come into the store without an appointment.
On her first day here, she was full of confidence, thinking that she could easily make it in the Five Love Market.
Coming to this place would surely be a piece of cake, right?
When she first saw the monthly sales target of 100,000 yuan, Qian Dailan was confident.
She quietly calculated that the average price of the store’s clothes was around 4,000 yuan, and if she could sell 25 pieces, she would easily meet the target.
The rest would be commission-based, with a minimum of 2.5% and a maximum of 6%.
This meant that if she achieved the basic target and sold around 10 more pieces, with an average commission rate of 4.25%.
Her monthly salary would be her base pay of 2,000 yuan plus commission of 1,700 yuan (4,000 yuan per item times 10 items times 4.25%), making it at least 3,700 yuan per month.
Then she wouldn’t have to worry about paying rent.
She just needed to sell 35 items a month.
But in reality, it wasn’t that simple.
High-end clothing brand sales associates often maintain a fixed customer base.
As a newcomer without any loyal regulars, Qian Dailan could only rely on “Walk-ins.”
Experienced staff could quickly assess whether a customer was worth serving by observing their appearance, attitude, body language, and whether they had the spending power.
If they determined a customer didn’t have much money or was just browsing, they would often avoid serving them, either sneaking away early or redirecting them to Qian Dailan with various excuses.
When unavoidable, some would treat the customer with coldness, hoping to make them leave on their own.
This way, they could quickly finish and move on to the next potential customer.
Qian Dailan couldn’t yet bring herself to be that cold or force customers out.
Back in the Five Love Market, she had built a reputation for being beautiful, sweet-talking, and patient, with many people willing to buy from her.
Now, in this store, she treated every customer with the same patience, even if she knew they were only window-shopping.
She would patiently accompany them, helping them try on shoes, kneeling down to present them one pair after another.
But no one actually made a purchase.
They all praised her service and then left with a “I’ll think about it.”
Six days passed, and Qian Dailan had sold only a silk scarf worth 900 yuan.
The customer who bought the scarf wasn’t one of her regulars, but a man in a hurry to buy a gift.
The entire process from greeting to payment took less than five minutes, and as she tied the bow on the scarf’s packaging, he kept checking his watch, urging her to hurry up.
He didn’t care about her attitude—he just wanted to buy the gift and leave quickly.
Such customers were rare.
That evening, during the inventory check and summary report, Mai Yi shot Qian Dailan a cold glance.
On the ninth day, Qian Dailan, still struggling with poor sales, unexpectedly met some special guests in the last half hour of her evening shift.
Ye Xijing and his mother, Lin Yi.
And—Wu Ke.
When the three of them entered the store, Qian Dailan was ironing clothes for Ava, so the person handling the reception was Linda.
Lin Yi was a regular customer of Linda’s, and it was clear that she had called ahead.
Before they even entered the store, Linda was already smiling and waiting outside to greet them.
She said with a smile, “You’ve finally arrived! I thought with the rain today, you might not make it. I was planning to deliver it to you if you didn’t come—save you another trip.”
Ava pouted, “Cixi is here again—huh? Strange, why didn’t she go to the VIP room?”
Cixi?
Qian Dailan, curious, finished ironing the clothes and stepped out of the door.
When she saw the three of them in the store, she froze.
She had seen photos of Ye Xijing with his family and knew that the woman with him was his mother, Lin Yi, who was even more beautiful in person than in the photos.
Standing next to her was a woman, smiling and comparing a silk scarf to Qian Dailan.
Her soft, well-maintained curls, graceful, gentle demeanor, and elegant charm made her seem poised and confident.
Ye Xijing seemed surprised to see her here.
He took a step forward but then hesitated, glancing back at Lin Yi and stopping.
Qian Dailan stood frozen in place.
Lin Yi sat on a crimson circular sofa, with Linda slightly kneeling, handing her tea.
Lin Yi didn’t even look at her, just smiling and admiring the silk scarf in Wu Ke’s hand.
“Which one do you think is nice, Ke Ke?”
Qian Dailan realized.
So, this was Wu Ke.
She was the “Ke Ke” Ye Xijing had mentioned when drunk.
So gentle, elegant, and poised.
No wonder—no wonder everyone liked her so much.
Qian Dailan had always thought that her beauty was her greatest weapon, and with the good looks her parents gave her, many things came easily.
But after several setbacks recently, she realized that beauty wasn’t always enough.
If beauty could get you everything, then every man on the street would be fighting to get plastic surgery.
There is always real love that doesn’t care about looks, body, or background.
There will always be people who don’t need external factors to get genuine love.
It’s just that she didn’t have that luck.
Ye Xijing stood silently, wanting to speak to Qian Dailan, but Lin Yi, like a towering presence, kept him in check, making it hard for him to breathe.
Wu Ke smiled and said, “This turquoise green one, right? Not only is it the color of the year, but it also complements your elegant temperament.”
Lin Yi accepted it with satisfaction.
“This one, please pack it up for me—Ke Ke has great taste. I love the way you help me pick things out.”
As she said this, Lin Yi absentmindedly looked up and saw Qian Dailan.
Raising her eyebrows slightly, Lin Yi studied her carefully and smiled.
She turned to Wu Ke and said, “Let’s have dinner together tomorrow night. Have you picked out your shoes yet?”
Wu Ke smiled, “Tomorrow’s main character is Xijing, to celebrate his acceptance into Cambridge. As an older sister, I can’t steal my younger brother’s spotlight. These shoes are fine. I don’t need new ones.”
Lin Yi lovingly looked at her.
“That won’t do. You’ve worked hard today helping me pick out clothes. I should buy you a pair of shoes.”
Linda, smiling, introduced, “Actually, we just got some new ones in the store—”
“No need,” Lin Yi interrupted, pointing at Qian Dailan from a distance, smiling, “I want that new girl to help Ke Ke pick out a pair of shoes.”