The President Comes Knocking -

“I’ve already explained the situation to you before. Just follow my instructions to handle these matters. If anything comes up that you can’t resolve, contact me via video call.”

It seemed that love had worked its magic-Li Yan looked noticeably better today compared to yesterday. Although there was still a trace of weariness, he had regained his usual sharp and polished demeanor.

After listening to Mu Han’s instructions, Li Yan nodded solemnly and assured him, “You can rest easy, President Mu. I will handle everything appropriately.”

Under normal circumstances, a president shouldn’t entrust their assistant with such extensive authority. However, Li Yan was no ordinary assistant to Mu Han. Not to mention their many years of friendship, Li Yan’s exceptional capabilities were a reason Mu Han wouldn’t let him remain in his current role indefinitely.

While Mu Han’s recent delegation of duties could be seen as a way to make his own life easier, it was more about giving Li Yan opportunities to grow and gain experience. This was in preparation for eventually assigning him to manage some of Kunhuang Group’s branch offices. Compared to being a president’s assistant, managing a branch office would allow Li Yan to better utilize his talents.

Li Yan was well aware of Mu Han’s intentions. Ever since Mu Han began delegating more responsibilities to him, he had stepped up to the challenge, demonstrating courage, meticulousness, and, most importantly, adaptability. His flexibility and resourcefulness had thoroughly impressed Mu Han.

“You know my hopes for you,” Mu Han said, his expression softening slightly, his tone unusually gentle. “This is your final test. I hope you’ll perform excellently. When I return from City B, we may have to part ways.”

Hearing this, Li Yan was deeply moved. Mu Han wasn’t just speaking as a boss; he was also addressing him as a friend. Li Yan’s lips parted, and in a tone tinged with emotion, he murmured, “Mu Han…”

“But let me make one thing clear,” Mu Han interrupted. “When I first assign you, the branch office won’t be very sizable. This means your workload and salary may also take a step back initially. If you’re unwilling to accept that, let me know ahead of time.”

As Mu Han’s personal assistant and first secretary, Li Yan juggled a mountain of responsibilities on a daily basis. His duties spanned both professional and personal matters, leaving him busy but very well-compensated. It was true that a branch office president’s salary might not initially match his current earnings as an assistant. However, what was a high salary compared to a platform where he could fully unleash his potential?

Realizing that Mu Han’s seemingly serious comment was actually just a tease, Li Yan rolled his eyes. Refusing to engage with his boss-slash-friend’s humor, he responded in a deadpan tone, “Thank you for your kind words, but I’ve been looking forward to the day I can leave you and spread my wings for quite some time. You might want to manage your expectations.”

Seeing that Mu Han’s lips parted as if he intended to say something more, Li Yan bluntly interrupted him. “President Mu, can you please check the time? It’s time for your flight. Can you get on the plane already?”

Li Yan’s face had dropped into an expression as cold as a stone slab, and every pore seemed to exude the words “utter disdain.” His look made Mu Han uncomfortable enough to rub his nose awkwardly before turning around without another word. Without further ado, he headed for the boarding gate.

There weren’t many people seated in the first-class cabin. When Mu Han entered, the surrounding seats were mostly empty. He found his place by the window, slipped on an eye mask, and prepared to catch up on sleep. He wanted to ensure that he was at peak condition when he deboarded to face Chu Qianqian-who was likely brimming with two days’ worth of pent-up fury.

As it turned out, Mu Han had overestimated the situation.

After disembarking and getting into the car, a casual conversation with Xiao Liu revealed that the two-day break was already over. Chu Qianqian, along with Qingyi and Chu Ziyu, had returned to the film crew to resume shooting. By the time Mu Han got back, the villa Qingyi had been staying in would surely be empty.

Assessing his current state, which was still decent, Mu Han pulled out his phone. To Xiao Liu’s bewildered expression, he opened the camera app, switched to selfie mode, and used the screen as a makeshift mirror to tidy his appearance.

Once Mu Han reestablished his composed and indifferent exterior, he acted as if he hadn’t noticed the look of shock frozen on Xiao Liu’s face. Two light coughs pulled Xiao Liu back to the present, and with his usual calmness, Mu Han ordered, “Head to Changyun Mountain, the Ling Xiao film crew.”

Mu Han’s stoicism was so unwavering that it left Xiao Liu momentarily disoriented. For a second, he couldn’t tell whether the Mu Han he just saw-using his phone as a mirror to adjust his appearance-was real or a figment of his imagination. Whether it was fact or delusion, the thought of the usually frosty President Mu doing something as ordinary as checking himself out was unnerving.

Xiao Liu shook his head, convincing himself it had been a trick of the eye. Deciding he hadn’t seen anything at all, he focused on driving toward Changyun Mountain.

Just as Zhang Dong had predicted before the break, over the two days all the filming equipment had been relocated to the grand palace on Changyun Mountain. In an effort to make the most of the remaining winter days, the film crew had decided to concentrate primarily on shooting indoor scenes.

Perhaps it was due to the further drop in temperature in City B, but during the indoor filming sessions this time, the crew didn’t feel as hot and stifled as they had in the past. However, today’s filming didn’t go particularly smoothly.

The day before the break started, Chu Qianqian happened to overhear a piece of information: once the two-day hiatus was over, Tang Qi, the actress playing the second female lead, would be joining the film crew. Out of curiosity, Chu Qianqian looked up Tang Qi’s background-and what she found wasn’t exactly reassuring. Tang Qi had her fair share of scandals. Rumors abounded about her being a diva, lacking acting skills, using connections with wealthy backers to get roles, and causing trouble on set. Simply put, her reputation wasn’t great.

Though internet rumors were often exaggerated or baseless, Chu Qianqian figured there was usually some degree of truth behind this much smoke. Silently labeling Tang Qi as someone “to be avoided,” she went out of her way to have a private conversation with Qingyi and Chu Ziyu. She advised them to keep their distance from Tang Qi as much as they could when they weren’t filming.

“Tang Qi’s reputation may not be great,” Chu Qianqian explained seriously, “but her fans are incredibly loyal and aggressive. They’re known for dominating online arguments, even when going up against the fanbases of other actors. The two of you haven’t been in the industry long, and your fanbases aren’t as large or as organized yet. Getting into a public dispute with her fans wouldn’t end well for you. I’m not asking you for much-just try to have as little interaction with her as possible to avoid unnecessary conflicts.”

Qingyi’s typically bright eyes were wide open, and for once, his expression was unusually solemn. “Don’t worry, Qianqian. I’ll behave myself and stay out of trouble.”

“Good,” Chu Ziyu chimed in with a nod of agreement, indicating that he also understood.

Seeing their responses, Chu Qianqian finally let out a small sigh of relief. The set wasn’t that big, but as long as they intentionally kept their distance and Tang Qi wasn’t particularly familiar with them, the two groups should be able to coexist peacefully without issues.

Unfortunately, Chu Qianqian had let down her guard a little too soon, forgetting two very pertinent phrases: “Murphy’s Law” and “trouble finds you even when you’re minding your own business.”