On her first day reporting to Olympus Star, Cen Jin deliberately curled her hair ends to make herself appear more experienced.
Her new colleagues didn’t pay much attention to such details. After arriving at the department, Cen Jin briefly met everyone, but before she could even warm her chair, she was called to the conference room.
Olympus Star was located in a skyscraper in Yi City’s CBD, less than eight hundred meters from her former employer.
As a rising star in the advertising industry, Olympus Star’s atmosphere was notably younger and more energetic. The entire office was decorated in a red and white color scheme matching their logo, appearing bold and vibrant.
Fresh to the company, Cen Jin was immediately entrusted with an important task:
A multinational fast-food enterprise’s Christmas promotional project, with their company securing all domestic social media aspects.
This was a major campaign, and the client company, while wealthy and generous, was notorious in the industry for its arrogance and pickiness. Olympus Star didn’t dare take it lightly, assembling a team of at least ten people.
Cen Jin arrived quite early, so she sat quietly in her chair waiting. Soon, the spacious all-white conference table was crowded with people, most equipped with their laptops.
As far as she could see, all faces were young, but few looked spirited – victims of frequent overnight work sessions.
Before getting to the main topic, the Creative Director leading this proposal stood up and specially introduced the only unfamiliar face in the room: “Cen Jin, our new copywriter.”
He was from Hong Kong, with crew-cut hair, wearing just a plain black t-shirt, and his arms muscular. Speaking animatedly with a noticeable Cantonese accent, he said: “As everyone knows, Olympus Star hires based on looks first, which is perfectly demonstrated in Miss Cen’s case.”
Everyone laughed, looking toward Cen Jin. She lowered her eyes, only managing a slight smile in return.
The man suddenly changed his tone: “But Cen Jin participated in M’s Mid-Autumn Festival new product marketing project last year, so her experience might be richer than everyone else here.”
Unexpectedly praised so highly, Cen Jin became embarrassed. She waved her hand, appearing unable to accept such praise: “I was just going through the motions, please don’t have such high expectations of me.”
“Perfect,” the Director raised his eyebrows, breaking into an instantly agreeable wide smile: “Please don’t have high expectations of us either.”
Everyone laughed again, the atmosphere harmonious.
After the simple welcome ceremony ended, the man’s expression became solemn as he bent down to operate the mouse.
The screen immediately displayed a brief yet stylish PPT animation opening, and his tone shifted from playful to gentlemanly and steady: “The final presentation of some videos this time might differ slightly from what we mentioned in our previous pitch…”
—
Back at her workstation, Cen Jin logged into WeChat on her computer, specifically looking for her new CD’s ID in the member list.
It was just an extremely contrasting English name: Teddy.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise, changing her group display name to: OlympusStar-Gin.
Her attention to the department head wasn’t due to any romantic interest in him, but rather because the new leader’s aura was completely different from Wu Fu’s. Wu Fu was very gentlemanly, approaching even the most imaginative ideas with caution, but Teddy was different, possessing a wild gazelle-like rebelliousness.
The girl at the next desk, seeing her main screen staying on Teddy’s profile page, leaned over to warn her: “Don’t get interested in him, he’s the kind of man women can’t have.”
Cen Jin understood immediately and closed it, smiling back: “No, I just wanted to learn about my new boss.”
“That’s what I thought, being in this industry so long, how could you not have such sensitivity,” the girl rolled her chair back to drink her coffee: “Want to add WeChat? I’m Lu Qiqi.”
Cen Jin accepted her friend request; her online name was lucky.
The girl looked at her phone, suddenly paused, and asked in a low voice: “You just got divorced?”
Cen Jin nodded.
Lu Qiqi gave a thumbs up: “And posted it on Moments, impressive,” then brushed her V-shaped bangs and asked curiously: “How did you get divorced?”
“Stop gossiping, did you submit the images?” A brand new employee ID card was placed on Cen Jin’s desk, along with a compliment: “The photo turned out nice.”
He left like a whirlwind before Lu Qiqi could even retort.
Cen Jin remembered that distinctive low voice – Olympus Star’s HR, Zhang Jue. She had briefly met him during the interview.
He was a curly-haired guy wearing glasses, his eyes always carrying a sleepy laziness, looking more like a core member of the technical department than someone from HR.
Just as she was about to put away the new ID card, Lu Qiqi snatched it faster, held it up, looked at it for a while, then peeked out one eye from behind the PC plate: “It is pretty, so which studio took the ID photo?”
“The one on the third floor of Jingyuan Mall.”
“Oh, thanks…” Lu Qiqi responded, returning the ID card to her.
For some reason, Cen Jin didn’t mind Lu Qiqi’s friendliness; she had an aura that resonated well with her.
For now, she’d call it the “spring vitality” aura.
No more idle chat, Cen Jin returned to her workstation. Someone in the group had just tagged her – it was her “lamb” boss:
OlympusStar-teddy: @OlympusStar-Li Fei, tell her about the video direction @OlympusStar-Gin
Cen Jin replied with a “1” to show she was listening.
Teddy: Hahahahaha we got a 1.
Everyone laughed, including Cen Jin.
Finally, Li Fei brought the order back, replying to Cen Jin: For their classic wing bucket, we want to make a pixel game animation short video, like Super Mario, but with a Christmas background. Can you flesh it out? Need a plot, highlight the product, and end with a slogan.
Cen Jin replied: I have some ideas.
Li Fei: Just write it up and send it to me when done.
Cen Jin asked: When do you need it?
Li Fei: As soon as possible.
Cen Jin: Tonight.