Monday morning,
Chen Jianhai rose early, donned a dress shirt and leather shoes, and rode the hotel car to the Shell Hotel Industry Association.
As the newly appointed chairman's first official day, he was scheduled to meet the association's leadership team, touch base, and familiarize himself with member hotels' current status.
At the entrance, Su Jie waited in the lobby.
"Brother Su!" Chen Jianhai greeted warmly upon seeing him.
"Boss Chen, your rise has been meteoric. I don't know whether to call you Boss or Chairman now."
Su Jie regarded him like a younger brother, marveling that the nervous hotel owner who'd once studied Little Pony Island maps in his office now led an intermediate hotel association.
"What chairman?! I was practically forced into this," Chen Jianhai grimaced.
"I've never even been a group leader before. Association matters are Greek to me—I'll need your help!"
Su Jie nodded solemnly. "You have my full support."
As they entered the 12-story building, its layout mirrored Coconut Umbrella Association's—
First floor: lobby, elevators, meeting rooms
Second: cafeteria
Third: archives, electrical/utility rooms, server racks
Offices occupied floors four and above.
Though compact, the association had all departments—administration, finance, training—with clear regulations.
Staff worked like interlocking gears propelling the massive machinery.
Walking the halls, Chen Jianhai observed employees buried in paperwork, processing documents at computers, or rushing between departments with folders.
The atmosphere was quiet, monotonous... almost oppressive.
So much so that high heels clicking on tiles sounded jarringly loud.
Chen Jianhai disliked it instantly.
"First impressions?" Su Jie asked, noting his silence.
"Fine... just feels overly rigid," Chen Jianhai admitted.
Su Jie smiled. "Government offices versus hotels—completely different vibes."
"Honestly, after years here, I found hotel workspaces unsettling at first too."
They reached Room 707 on the seventh floor—the association's central point.
"Originally the chairman's office was on the eighth floor. But since you're new and not locally promoted, using predecessors' spaces seemed inappropriate."
"'Seven signifies ascent; eight denotes decline'—so I placed you here for auspiciousness."
Inside, per Chen Jianhai's request, all furniture had been swapped for used pieces—worn but formaldehyde-free.
A miniature "welcoming pine"盆栽 added greenery by the window.
Though minuscule compared to his hotel office, the space was bright with panoramic downtown views—an oasis amidst urban bustle.
To his surprise, it was a suite:
The inner chamber held a single bed, TV, desk, and private bathroom—perfect for overtime or naps.
"Great bed!"
Chen Jianhai tested the mattress. "Just a tad short."
For urban commuters facing 90-minute treks, this downtown foothold would prove invaluable, especially with Cream Road's distance.
"So this is my new workplace..."
Surveying the modest office, melancholy tinged his gaze.
Now he understood Xiaolang's adage: "Passion makes a career; obligation makes a job."
"Sigh... I want to quit too!"
He looked pitifully at Su Jie, hoping for consolation.
After a pause, Su Jie said:
"Chairman, it's almost 9. Everyone's waiting in the main conference room downstairs."
Chen Jianhai rolled his eyes.
And he'd thought honest-looking Su Jie was kind!
Grudgingly, he followed Su Jie out.
---
Past the first floor's side door lay seven meeting rooms.
Besides the 600-capacity main hall were six smaller function-specific ones.
When they entered, the room was packed—all eyes curious about their new leader.
The agenda was simple: Su Jie introduced Chen Jianhai, who gave brief remarks, concluding the meet-and-greet.
The real ordeal came after.
Department heads queued to report to his office—administration, logistics, finances, event planning—until his head throbbed.
A bathroom break revealed eight more people waiting outside, overwhelming him.
One cultural outreach staffer even shyly produced a romance novel *Clumsy Teen Love: A Heavenly Gift's Affection*, requesting his autograph.
Finally alone, Chen Jianhai collapsed into his chair, drained.
"Brother Su, my three hotels combined aren't this exhausting! Why so much work?!"
Su Jie looked at him like he'd won the lottery.
Accustomed to delegating to Wen Zifan and Rui Keya at hotels, Chen Jianhai was unaccustomed to hierarchical approvals where the chairman shoulders ultimate responsibility.
Eyeing the stacks of files—even cafeteria procurement bids—the system-reliant underachiever felt more lost than with math exams.
After contemplation, Chen Jianhai asked, "Who handled these before without a chairman?"
"Me," said Su Jie.
"Then keep handling them!"
Chen Jianhai shoved the piles toward him desperately.
Su Jie's eyelid twitched. "Boss Chen, this is inappropriate for a new leader."
"Appropriate!" Chen Jianhai wished he could install Su Jie as chairman then and there.
"Brother Su, just maintain the status quo. No need for excellence—just avoid major blunders."
"They didn't elect me to micromanage."
"Even perfect administration won't save me if we fail to advance."
Though simple, Chen Jianhai grasped the essentials:
With Su Jie overseeing finances and personnel, other issues were trivial.
Su Jie acquiesced: "I'll spare you distractions. But municipal meetings require your presence."
"Those I'll handle," Chen Jianhai agreed. "The rest is yours."
With roles defined,
Chen Jianhai reviewed member hotel files, growing dismayed.
Advancement required collective performance across revenue, reviews, staffing, and facilities—no solo victories.
"Zaomen's hotels have decent infrastructure and staffing, but their style..."
Flipping through photos, he scratched his head.
Tricky...
For his own hotels, system points could solve anything.
But the system only worked for his properties—not the association's collective standards.
Mid-frustration, his phone rang—Fisherman Grandpa!
"Gourd Boy, need your advice," came the elderly voice.
"Remember refining fish baskets as beer festival souvenirs?"
"Some foreign company saw them, wants bulk orders. Asked if we have factories."
"We're clueless about this."
"Can you visit and guide us?"
Chen Jianhai's grip tightened.
Between association chaos, now island industrialization?!
"Grandpa, I'm away. Don't worry—I'll return tomorrow."
Hanging up, his head spun.
One crisis after another—when would it end?
"Island trouble?" Su Jie asked.
Chen Jianhai nodded.
Su Jie marveled, "They consult you for island matters too?"
"Of course," Chen Jianhai said naturally.
Su Jie regarded him deeply. "Boss Chen, you're truly remarkable!"
Little Pony Island's resistance to outsiders was legendary—yet Chen Jianhai had not only established a foothold but earned islanders' trust.
Incredible.
Chen Jianhai smiled wryly. "Nothing remarkable. Just trying to help friends who rely on me."
A sweet burden indeed...
---
At 5:30 p.m.,
Chen Jianhai staggered from the association into a car, rushing to the train station like a man chased, returning to Nanjiang that evening.
Next dawn, he took the first ferry to Little Pony Island.
Meeting Fisherman Grandpa, he learned the situation:
After the beer conference, a foreign distributor spotted tourists' fish baskets,
Fascinated by the cultural artifacts, they'd contacted the island through Little Fortune God Brewery for mass overseas orders.
While selling occasional baskets to tourists was routine,
This million-yuan scale deal left islanders overwhelmed—hence Fisherman Grandpa's SOS.
Initially pleased for them, Chen Jianhai soon realized his own ignorance about international trade.
But with the elder's hopeful gaze upon him, panic wasn't an option.
"Give me two days to investigate," Chen Jianhai promised.
"Gourd Boy, the island counts on you," Fisherman Grandpa said solemnly, gripping his hand.
"We'll follow your lead."