James’s smile stiffened, and he quickly waved his hands to explain.
"Wendy, you have no idea. Things are different now.
"Government recruitment is strictly regulated with public exams. It’s completely impossible to get in through connections.
"Even if I wanted to help, my hands are tied."
Wendy feigned surprise, her eyes widening as she spoke with a touch of innocence.
"I thought it was just my company, but I didn’t expect government departments to be the same!
"If a section chief like you, James, can’t pull strings, then a lowly, ordinary employee like me is even more helpless.
"My company’s recruitment is also extremely strict. Just to submit a resume, you need a degree from a top-tier university.
"If I remember correctly, Leon only has a junior college diploma, right?
"Even if I really did have connections and could give an internal referral, his resume wouldn’t even make it past the initial screening."
Her words were airtight. She didn’t outright refuse, yet she tossed the difficult problem right back at them. James and Joan exchanged a glance, both somewhat speechless, unable to bring up the internal referral again.
Watching the scene unfold, Grandma quickly stepped in to smooth things over.
"Alright, alright. If Wendy had the connections, she would definitely help Leon.
"She has only been working for two months. Even if she wanted to help, she doesn’t have the power to do so.
"Besides, isn’t Leon still in school?
"It won’t be too late to discuss this in another two months!"
Having clawed his way up to the position of section chief on his own, James was no fool. He naturally caught Wendy’s underlying refusal. He glanced at Leon, who was still looking down and scrolling on his phone, then peeked at Joan’s stiff expression beside him, silently sighing in his heart.
He knew exactly what kind of people his wife and son were. While his son merely had an average relationship with Joan’s side of the family, Joan herself had completely offended her maiden family. Since she hadn’t maintained good ties with them in the past, begging them for help now was as difficult as ascending to heaven. James knew perfectly well that pestering Wendy further was pointless and would only lead to more embarrassment.
"Alright then. It’s getting late, so we won’t bother you any longer," James said.
Joan hurriedly stood up with him. Before leaving, she didn’t forget to glare at Leon, urging him in a lowered voice, "Stop playing on your phone! Let’s go!"
Leon clicked his tongue impatiently, shoved his phone into his pocket, and dawdled behind them without even saying goodbye.
The moment the door closed, Wendy finally breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to Grandma, her tone tinged with apology. "Grandma, I’m sorry you had to see that joke of a display. Aunt Joan and the others..."
But Grandma simply took her hand. Her wrinkled palm was warm as she gently patted the back of Wendy’s hand. "Silly girl, why are you apologizing to me?"
Her cloudy eyes gleamed with shrewdness.
"I’ve lived a long time. You think I can’t tell who is genuine and who is fake?
"Your Aunt Joan has been like this since she was little—obsessed with saving face and always looking to take advantage of others!
"They think you’re successful now and want you to support them, but where is the logic in expecting that as a given?
"It’s not easy for you to just start working. You don’t need to wrong yourself for their sake.
"Just don’t let their business upset you."
Her heart warmed. Wendy leaned against Grandma’s shoulder and rubbed against it affectionately. "I know. With you here, Grandma, I’m not mad."
She stayed and chatted with Grandma for a while longer. Seeing that it was getting late, Wendy was afraid of missing the last intercity express train, so she had no choice but to get up and say goodbye. Her mother helped carry her luggage downstairs, repeatedly reminding her to be safe on the way and to message once she arrived at her rented apartment.
It was past midnight when Wendy finally returned to her rented apartment in Ramspire. The moment she pushed the door open, the familiar little space allowed her to shed all her exhaustion. She kicked off her shoes and casually dropped her luggage in the entryway, collapsing onto the sofa before even turning on the lights.
The apartment wasn’t large, but it held all her hopes and dreams in this city. The neon lights from outside peeked through the gaps in the curtains, casting fragmented shadows on the floor. It felt a bit gentler than during the day.
After resting for quite a while, she finally got up and headed to the bathroom. Hot water surged from the showerhead. The swirling steam enveloped her body, and her fatigue seemed to wash away bit by bit with the running water. As the soap suds slid across her fingertips, her mind replayed the ugly faces of Aunt Joan’s family from earlier, making her sigh softly. She was thankful that Grandma was reasonable, or else this trip home would have been incredibly frustrating.
After her shower, Wendy wrapped herself in a towel, sat down at her desk, and habitually turned on her computer to check her inbox.
[Time Mailbox: You have a letter from September 23, 2025]
"They’ve completely ruined their public image right before the Mid-Autumn Festival. Forrest Quinn’s mooncakes are done for this year!"
"A piece of ad copy actually tried to preach to people. No wonder it sparked an internet-wide boycott!"
"The team in charge is probably going to be fired on the spot!"
"It’s 2025, and they’re still deleting comments to cover things up?"
"This world really is just a circus!"
"If the company can’t smooth over this public outcry, it’s going to seriously damage their reputation."
...
She immediately opened her browser, typed "Forrest Quinn Mid-Autumn Copy 2025" into the search bar, and refreshed several pages, but didn’t see any relevant new copy or ad information. She scoured their official website, brand accounts on X and Tiktok, and didn’t even miss the homepage of their e-commerce stores. But after scrolling through all their latest updates, she only found Mid-Autumn teaser posters from the previous month. There wasn’t a single trace of new copy or ads.
"Could it be that it hasn’t been posted yet?" she muttered to herself, resting her chin on her hand. Glancing at the time in the bottom right corner, she saw it was already 1:30 AM.
Perhaps it would go live tomorrow, or maybe the day after? Wendy estimated that it would most likely be tomorrow. Although information spread quickly in the internet age, it still took time for a trending topic to gain traction.
She didn’t care too much about this new piece of future information. She had never even heard of Forrest Quinn before; it was highly likely the work of another department. That meant even if something really went wrong, it wouldn’t affect her much. However, considering the importance of the future information, she didn’t plan to just ignore it completely.
The next day, as soon as she arrived at the company and clocked in, Wendy clicked into the intranet’s "Brand Collaboration Updates" section. Scrolling through the new clients and related projects from the past month, she quickly found the information she was looking for.
[Forrest Quinn Food Co., Ltd.]
[Reached an in-depth partnership with Titan Engine, granting full delegation for online and offline promotional business.]
...
Her heart skipped a beat, and she clicked in for a closer look. The two parties had signed a full-delegation package. Titan Engine was not only responsible for ad placement but also monopolized the copywriting and event planning. They would even get a cut of the sales revenue. This full-delegation model was a newly launched service by Titan Engine, and the fees were twenty percent higher than standard collaborations.
"Full delegation? These fees are much higher than regular promotions," Wendy clicked her tongue in amazement. Her fingers continued to scroll down until she finally found the copywriting document under the "Promotional Materials First Draft" section.
She browsed through it line by line. Most of it consisted of conventional phrases like "thin crust, generous filling" and "traditional craftsmanship." But when she reached the final piece of copy regarding the five-nut mooncake, she stopped abruptly, her brows instantly knitting together.