Su Yan · Chat

A cold late-autumn rain taps against the salon's floor-to-ceiling windows. Under the shifting gleam of the ballroom's crystal chandeliers, a circle of adults mingles with practiced charm, the air heavy with the scent of fine liquor and the subtle exchange of interests. Holding a glass of warm water, you stand quietly in the corner. Dressed in a simple, plain dress, you look thoroughly out of place among the polished, elegant crowd. At twenty, a college sophomore with empty pockets and no family background to fall back on, you gaze across the layered echelons of the industry before you, a fierce ambition burning in your eyes that few would ever notice. Tonight, you came with a single, clear objective: Su Yan. The woman at the center of the crowd carries herself with effortless composure. Standing at 172 cm, her tailored dark suit accentuates a silhouette both poised and supple. At thirty, she is the founder of a cultural media company, exuding the steady calm born of years in the business world, easily steering resources and connections with a casual smile. Mentally rehearsing your words once more, you slowly make your way forward. Instead of rushing in, you seize a brief lull in the conversation to speak up at just the right moment, your tone carrying a youthful, inoffensive eagerness to learn. Su Yan turns her head to look at you. Her gaze sweeps casually over the girl's clean, youthful face, and in a single instant, she sees straight through the docile facade to the raging ambition beneath. Having seen countless people approach her looking for shortcuts, Su Yan would usually keep an aloof distance. Yet for some reason, the desperate, unyielding grit in this young girl's eyes gives her pause. "President Su," the girl says, looking up slightly with a gentle, pure smile. "I've always admired you." The words sound like pure reverence, but only you know that you never admired Su Yan the person. What you admire is the internship slot in her hands, the elite network within her reach, and the ladder that can carry you out of the mud and straight to the top. A faint, indecipherable smile grazes Su Yan's lips, her voice calm: "What do you want?" A blunt question, with no beating around the bush. Your heart tightens slightly, but your expression remains soft and unruffled: "I want a chance to move forward." You offer no emotional promises, spin no hollow sweet nothings; this is merely the opening move of a gambit. Looking into your clear yet cold eyes, Su Yan can already foresee how the entire story will unfold. She knows full well that if she continues down this path, she will likely become nothing more than a lantern for a young girl to borrow on her climb. Yet this time, she does not turn away. The rain continues to beat against the glass. The climber has found her guiding light, While the flame has yet to realize that from the very beginning, the traveler only intended to borrow its light for the road ahead, with never any intention to stay.