Chapter 23: The Head of Public Relations

When Uncle Qiu misunderstood their relationship, Hao Meng didn’t correct him; instead, she replied joyfully, “Uncle Qiu, is business going well? I went to town this afternoon to buy him some clothes, so I’m bringing them over now—he’ll look good in them for job interviews.”

Hearing Hao Meng’s voice, Jiang Fan opened the door, guilt coloring his tone as he complained, “It’s not easy for you to earn money. You’ve already bought so many things for me, and now more? In just these couple of days, you’ve spent more than a month’s salary on me.”

Jiang Fan didn’t know Hao Meng’s source of income—he only judged by what he’d seen at the factory: an average worker’s pay, maybe two or three hundred at most, less than two hundred for the lower earners.

“I want to do it. Don’t make me throw them away!”

Aware of Jiang Fan’s frugality, Hao Meng feigned anger, raising the two shopping bags high as if she were about to toss them.

“No, no, don’t! I was just saying, don’t be mad!”

Uncle Qiu watched the two, seeing how they cared for one another, and chuckled, “Ah, youth is wonderful. It’s late, you two haven’t had a midnight snack, have you? Your aunt just made some dumplings—they’re still fresh, haven’t gone into the fridge yet. Come, eat a bit together.”

Jiang Fan had purposely eaten outside before returning to the rented room, not wanting to take advantage of free food. A bowl of rice noodles barely filled him halfway, and at the mention of a midnight snack, he rubbed his somewhat hungry stomach and said, “Uncle, I ate this afternoon after coming back, so I’m not hungry yet.”

“Uncle Qiu called us—let’s put the things inside and go eat a bit.”

Although they hadn’t known each other long, Hao Meng’s thoughts were always on Jiang Fan when they were together; she’d learned his habits well, and seeing him rub his stomach, she knew he was hungry.

They entered the dumpling shop, where two others were still eating.

Aunt Qiu, hands dusted with flour and still busy wrapping dumplings, greeted them warmly, “You young couple sit down first—I still have some work to finish.”

“Aunt, do your thing, don’t mind us.”

Hao Meng replied kindly, sitting at the table near the door.

Uncle Qiu went to the kitchen to boil dumplings, while Jiang Fan skillfully fetched the teapot and two cups from where the tableware was kept. After pouring tea for Hao Meng, he asked, full of concern, “It’s so late, you haven’t rested, and you still came to deliver things. Won’t you be tired for work tomorrow?”

“I’m working the late shift tomorrow, so there’s plenty of time to rest. Tell me about you—did you get into another fight?”

Not wanting to talk about work, Hao Meng steered the conversation toward what she cared about.

Jiang Fan asked in confusion, “How did you know?”

Hao Meng hesitated, then answered, “The person you fought was the driver for our client, Mr. Chen. He told me.”

“How did your client tell you that? Does he know we know each other?”

“These things aren’t easy to explain in a few words. I’ll tell you slowly later. But why did you fight his driver?”

Seeing Jiang Fan’s puzzled expression, Hao Meng glanced at Aunt Qiu still busy, and again changed the topic, pressing him for details about the fight.

Hao Meng’s reluctance to explain made Jiang Fan stop asking, instead recounting last night’s brawl in detail.

“You’d never met before—why would he target you?”

After his explanation, Hao Meng was just as baffled.

“Who cares? That Mr. Chen, your client, came to see me today, wanted me to be his bodyguard. Seeing how high and mighty he acted, I refused.”

Jiang Fan still didn’t know why Zhu Bing had targeted him; his main concern was work, so he didn’t dwell on the matter.

“You did the right thing. Work will come, and I’ll help you think of something. If Mr. Chen comes looking for you again, just refuse.”

Hearing Jiang Fan’s words, Hao Meng guessed why Chen Anlong had complained that Jiang Fan hadn’t shown him respect. She recalled how, when Chen Anlong came to see her, he’d spoken dismissively of Jiang Fan, and so she replied with support.

“It’s hard for guys to find work right now. After refusing him, I kind of regret it—I’m still troubled by it.”

“We can talk about that after the midnight snack.”

Hao Meng wanted to persuade Jiang Fan not to work for Chen Anlong, but seeing his urgent desire for employment, she hesitated.

When Hao Meng said they’d talk after returning, Jiang Fan realized she’d be staying at the rented room tonight. He remembered waking up this morning to find his underwear damp in front, and his face flushed despite himself.

After their midnight meal, Hao Meng quietly slipped a five-yuan bill under the bowl.

Back at the rented room—having already shared a bed twice—Jiang Fan was still shy, standing awkwardly.

Hao Meng, ever considerate, tidied up the messy bed that Jiang Fan hadn’t made after sleeping, then looked up at him, teasing with a smile, “It’s not like we haven’t slept together before—why so shy?”

With that, she took off her work clothes, slipped under the covers in her underwear and camisole.

Jiang Fan hesitated a moment, then finally took off his jacket and climbed into bed next to Hao Meng, wearing only his underwear.

Desire comes from dissatisfaction. Hao Meng, swept up in love, always felt that, coming from the world of dust, she wasn’t worthy of someone as pure as Jiang Fan. This belief restrained her own greed, and she abandoned any hope of tempting Jiang Fan toward romance.

With less greed, it’s easier to feel content. Now, Hao Meng only wished to spend time with Jiang Fan as often as possible.

She rested her head on Jiang Fan’s chest, hesitated for a long time, then said, “Let me tell you something—I’m the PR manager at Family Joy Hotel.”

Hao Meng loved lying in Jiang Fan’s arms, but with frequent contact, she couldn’t keep her job a secret any longer. After much thought, she decided to reveal a bit, though lightly.

“What does PR manager mean?”

“It’s just entertaining hotel guests, promoting drinks—you’ll understand in time.”

“As long as I can see you often, that’s enough.”

Hao Meng’s unreserved devotion made Jiang Fan feel not only grateful, but also deeply attached. He never wanted to force her to talk about things she’d rather not share.

“Do you really want to go work for Mr. Chen?”

With a little information revealed, Hao Meng felt relieved, but worried Jiang Fan might probe further, so she shifted the topic to work.

“I’d like to try. I’ve been here several days with no job, and it’s weighing on me—but I don’t know if he’d still want me.”

Hao Meng wanted to tell Jiang Fan what kind of person Chen Anlong was, but that would reveal too much of her own privacy. After thinking a moment, she said, “Don’t worry, he hopes I’ll persuade you to work for him. You can give it a try, but remember—when you talk salary, ask for double what he offers. He’ll definitely agree.”

Having refused once, Jiang Fan worried, “Won’t that be asking too much?”

“Trust me, you won’t go wrong listening to me.”