By the time the morning meeting began, Yang Ruoqian had already opened the same file six times. Each time, the conclusion remained offensive: the first opening-day lobby photo looked empty enough to revive Yang's hope. If a project could no longer fail cleanly after losing money, what dignity did a loser have left?
Yang Ruoqian's private calculation was still very professional. The plan around the Opening Day Looks Empty matter had receipts, workflow, and enough normal business logic to pass the system's eyes. Better yet, the costs were concrete: rent, renovation, old equipment, staff shifts, safety repairs, low-margin tickets, and an ancient lobby that could eat money politely. A normal boss would ask how to convert those costs into growth. Yang only cared whether the brick-and-mortar weight could keep swallowing money without producing a number large enough to punish him.
