Xing Tang glanced at her as if he could read her thoughts. "Don't worry. You won't reach that serious a point until you've been working here eight or ten years."
An Ting's eyes widened. "It can really get that serious?"
A faint smile appeared in his eyes as he studied her terrified expression. "Pretty much. By then, you might have a big bald patch right in front."
An Ting grabbed his sleeve anxiously. "No, hair transplants cost fifteen yuan per hair now—I can't afford that!"
Xing Tang laughed lightly. "The studio does not reimburse private expenses."
So that's why Lin Meng hasn't had a hair transplant yet!
An Ting clutched her chest and looked at him pleadingly. "You can't do this… Hair also represents the company's image. What would people think if your assistant went bald?"
Xing Tang glanced at Lin Meng. "Before, when he was obviously bald, no one really paid attention to me."
An Ting scrunched her face like a steamed bun.
Xing Tang patted her head. "What are you worried about? Do you think I'm that demanding? Or do you think you can stay by my side for eight years like he did?"
An Ting sighed. Mostly, it was Xiao Gong's performance that gave her a sense of crisis—she always felt she might end up like Lin Meng.
"Pay attention to your appearance," Xing Tang continued. "You put on makeup first thing this morning, and now you look like a sauerkraut bun."
"Have you ever eaten sauerkraut buns?" she asked.
"No, but I saw Xiao Gong eat them—the whole house smelled of pickled cabbage."
While the two chatted, Lin Meng, the groom, was walking around the chicken coop. The moment he saw Xing Tang, his face lit up, and he hurried over.
"Boss! I knew you'd come!"
Xing Tang immediately reverted to his icy, expressionless demeanor. "I'm no longer your boss. Show some self-respect."
An Ting tilted her head, confused. Is this how he uses the term 'self-respect'?
Lin Meng laughed and clapped Xing Tang on the back, making him stumble slightly. "Hahaha! I've been waiting to do this for so long!"
Xing Tang stared at him, unamused.
Lin Meng's smile returned, easy and friendly. "Director Xing, I'm almost ready to leave to pick up my bride. Would you like to come with me?"
Xing Tang gritted his teeth. "I'm not going."
Lin Meng pretended not to hear. "Okay, fine. But Director Xing, you'll be driving your Lamborghini, the one you always use… oh, I mean, the one you usually use to get around. Come on, help me make a good impression on the wedding procession!"
This time, Xing Tang did glance around his massive garage and quickly picked the car that looked the most luxurious—pretentious, but high-end. Not quite like Song Qian's sports cars, but impressive nonetheless.
He turned to An Ting. "No. My new assistant can't handle steep mountain roads."
An Ting froze.
Lin Meng laughed and patted Xing Tang on the shoulder. "Alright, let's go. The whole convoy is waiting!"
Xing Tang's lips pursed, but hearing that, his mood lifted slightly. He didn't say another word, got into the car, and followed the convoy to the bride's house.
An Ting watched as Lin Meng was stopped at the door by the bridesmaids, struggling to carry his bride into the procession.
She peeked at Xing Tang. "Did you see the bride? Isn't she pretty?"
"It doesn't look good," he replied bluntly.
An Ting nudged him. "What's your standard of beauty? Someone like Ye Qianqian?"
Xing Tang subconsciously pictured Ye Qianqian's acne-scarred face, and his expression soured. "It's strange… can someone be amazed the first time you see them and shocked the second?"
"Maybe he's going blind," An Ting teased.
"Perhaps," Xing Tang admitted, opening the car door. "But the bride's hair is thick. Lin Meng might have liked that."
The afternoon wedding vows were scheduled for 3 p.m., with games at noon. Afterward, the bride returned to the groom's house. Xiao Gong went off with a cameraman, while An Ting stayed with Xing Tang in a room Lin Meng had prepared.
Seeing that the room lacked water, An Ting went downstairs to fetch some for her boss.
On the second floor, she ran into Lin Meng, who was coming out of a room. She froze.
"Adjusting well to being Director Xing's assistant?" he asked.
"Fine."
Lin Meng grinned. "Pretty good, but my scalp feels a little cold."
An Ting inhaled sharply.
He waved his hand. "Just kidding. I was born with thin hair and stay up late, so I went bald young. As long as you keep up with the boss's pace, he's actually easy to talk to. He even gave me a BMW last year."
"I've heard about that," An Ting said, eyes sparkling. "I also think the boss is kind."
Lin Meng looked surprised but chuckled when he saw she meant it. "I was worried you might not adapt, but it seems you're doing quite well."
"It's alright," she replied.
Lin Meng sighed, resting his hands on the railing. "I hesitated when I resigned. I'd worked with the boss for eight years. Everyone around him is outstanding, handsome, or beautiful. At first, even the celebrities on TV smiled at us. After a while, I became numb to even the prettiest faces. Being around such talent for so long can make you lose sight of your position. Ambition swells, and you think you can make it independently."
"But they often fail," he scoffed. "Many talented people stay buried. They only rise because of Xing Tang Studio's halo effect. People aren't recognized just for being outstanding. How naive."
"So why did you leave?" An Ting asked.
"I had no private life. My world revolved around the boss and work. At 29, I still had no girlfriend. Family blind dates made me realize I didn't even know what coffee I liked. I hesitated, then finally decided to leave."
Lin Meng smiled helplessly. "I've always felt apologetic for not saying goodbye… It's no surprise the boss was angry. Staying here would be the happiest thing for me, but…"
He paused, then added, "I'm more worried about whether you can last a long time here."
"Do a good job," he said, then left.
An Ting watched his back, understanding immediately. Lin Meng's advice wasn't just casual—he was looking out for her, or at least still cared about Xing Tang.
When Xing Tang came down the stairs and saw her spacing out with a water bottle in hand, he casually took it. "The dispenser is on the first floor. Did you miss it?"
An Ting snapped out of her daze, flashing a flattering smile. "Boss, your eyes are like a fisheye lens!"
Xing Tang: "..."
The afternoon oath-taking ceremony began. Studio photographers either recorded with tripods or took DSLR shots. Xing Tang stood behind one, closely observing the newlyweds exchanging vows.
A photographer teased An Ting, "When will you get married?"
An Ting stroked her chin. "A long way off. I just turned twenty."
The cameraman grinned at Xing Tang. "Boss, Xiao An is young, but you're almost thirty and still single. Why?"
Xing Tang glanced at him casually. "Then why did you get married?"
"Thinking about my wife and kids at home… and paying the mortgage together."
Xing Tang nodded. "You might marry because it helps with the mortgage. I don't need anyone to help me pay mine."
The cameraman, fully aware of Xing Tang's multiple Beijing properties, froze. Why does he have to be so sarcastic?
An Ting, overhearing, felt caught in the crossfire. Though she didn't have a partner to help with her mortgage, she carried the burden of a large loan herself.
The photographer handed her the DSLR casually. "Hold this; I'm going to the restroom."
As the newlyweds prepared to kiss amidst cheers, Xing Tang casually took the camera from An Ting and snapped a photo.
Later, looking at the photo, he frowned. "Something's missing."
An Ting peeked over. "Just a little hair is missing. You can Photoshop it in."
"Okay," he said, satisfied, turning off the camera and handing it back to her.
Just then, a bouquet fell from above, landing in Xing Tang's hands.
Lin Meng, on stage, laughed. "Director Xing, you caught the bouquet! Step up your game—you're over thirty now! Old man alert!"
Xing Tang's face instantly darkened.