Chapter 57: More Than a Year’s Worth of Words

Shangguan Renran helped him register an account, using his real name as his Weibo username: Huangpu Shenqing.

She wanted to change his profile picture, only to find that the photo gallery contained only her own pictures. "Mr. Huangpu, don't you keep any photos of yourself?"

"I don't like having my picture taken. It's enough to have photos of you, Renran."

Huangpu Shenqing's WeChat profile picture was still the one Ouyang Mufeng had set for him back then—a candid shot of his back taken by Ouyang Mufeng.

"But I just took a photo of you—"

"It's different when it's you, Renran. I like the ones you take."

"Shall I send you the photo and help you change your profile picture?"

"I'll leave it to you, Renran."

Shangguan Renran sent the photo to his phone via WeChat, saved it for him, and set his Weibo profile picture to the one where he was looking down, focused on his work.

Then they followed each other, so she was following four people and temporarily had four followers herself.

But unexpectedly, Huangpu Shenqing's Weibo followers were increasing at a visible pace—already over a hundred. She had barely managed his account for less than a minute.

"Mr. Huangpu, you already have followers on Weibo," she said.

"What are followers?"

Seriously? He didn't even know that? He was even less up-to-date than she was.

"Followers are people who choose to follow your updates."

"And how many do you have, Renran?"

Probably more than him, she thought.

"To tell you the truth, I only have four," Shangguan Renran said a little gloomily. Was the gap really that big?

"Then I'll have them follow you," Huangpu Shenqing replied, pulling out his other work phone.

"No need. Those who follow Mr. Huangpu do so because they like you; how could I ask them to follow me?" Shangguan Renran handed him the phone. "I've already registered it for you. You just need to complete your profile."

"Did Mr. Huangpu's company change its name?" she suddenly recalled the earlier notification.

"Yes. Isn't 'Nian Ran' a beautiful name?"

"'Nian Ran'?"

"It means 'always thinking of Renran.' Do you like it?"

"Isn't that a bit... Does this mean you've truly left the Huangpu family?"

"Yes. That wasn't really my home. My home disappeared when my father died."

"What about Mrs. Huangpu?" She remembered hearing that she had gone abroad.

"Her? Hah. She and my father were never truly in love—it was only for the sake of the family. She doesn't deserve the title of Mrs. Huangpu, let alone that of a mother."

That woman had never cared for him, treating him only as a shackle, a hindrance in her quest for true love.

"You must have had a difficult childhood, Mr. Huangpu," she said softly. Growing up in such an environment must have been especially hard.

Difficult was an understatement—he had nearly lost his life. But Renran didn't need to know that, for she had grown up in the sunlight.

"It doesn't matter. It's enough for you to know that they aren't family, only enemies."

They stayed in the office until five in the afternoon, after which Huangpu Shenqing drove Shangguan Renran home.

This time, everyone got a clear look at the woman's face. She was the very one from that video over a month ago.

No wonder there had been that incident at the mall—she was clearly the apple of the boss's eye.

But nobody dared gossip about it. If the boss found out, their jobs wouldn't be safe.

Shangguan Renran glanced back at the company name—Lianran Group—so striking and grand, shining with golden splendor.

The next day, she was allowed to return to work. Shangguan Renran first reviewed the reports her team had submitted earlier.

Everyone essentially had their own sales domain. She carefully categorized the data, then assigned specific tasks to each person, asking Ye Xin to distribute them. She hoped that by the end of the year, everyone would have a strong sense of responsibility for their work.

—

"Connect my lounge with the 118th and 119th floors, and add doors to both corridor entrances. I want it completely enclosed."

"Are you converting it into a private space?" came the respectful inquiry.

"Yes. It's for Renran."

The sudden dose of affection was overwhelming. "So should we turn it into a room, or is there something else you want?"

Mo Yi looked up, awaiting instructions.

"Turn it into a studio and a music room."

"Should we add soundproofing?"

"No need. In the studio, I want every kind of art supply—only the best rice paper, brushes, easels, everything. Have someone knowledgeable select them. The decor should be a pale blue, with natural light but also the ability to close it off completely. For the music room, get the world's best grand piano, guzheng, and cello—ten of each, all in different styles. For any other suitable instruments, arrange for them as well. If space isn't enough, connect the 116th and 117th floors too."

Huangpu Shenqing pondered as he spoke. For now, these were the things he knew Renran loved.

From calm professionalism to utter shock—Mo Yi could hardly believe it. He swore he'd never seen his boss speak so much at once.

More words than in an entire year. Miss Shangguan was truly formidable, having changed their boss so completely.

"Yes, I'll make sure you and Miss Shangguan are satisfied."

"Good. For now, stop handling other company matters and focus solely on this."

"Understood."

"What about Mo Jiu and Mo Shi?"

"Some of the old master's people have appeared at the Huangpu estate. If our people go over, there may be... complications. We haven't yet found any of Jun Ruohan's associates, but it's possible the old master is aware."

"He definitely knows. These people help him cover up his actions—how could he not know?"

"So, you think the old master is using her to do his bidding, and the rest are outside?"

"Exactly. So don't worry about it—just have our people withdraw. Have them investigate the old master's other secret businesses. His people must be stationed at these locations."

"I've memorized everything."

"Off you go."