Chapter 82: A Path Less Traveled

When Zhang He and Chu Bo set out, Fu Zheng was plagued by a headache.

Recently, a useful message had trickled down from the company’s upper management: the head of the Planning Department had resigned. The news was delivered in a single, terse sentence, but its subtleties could not be explained in just a few words. Resignations were hardly news these days—how many companies were there in Dreamstar City, and how many people packed up and left every day? No one could possibly keep track.

The fact of the resignation was singular, but the possibilities that followed were endless. For example: the former head was gone, so who would fill the vacancy? The potential candidates were countless, and this was the source of Fu Zheng’s headache.

He certainly wanted the position, but he was currently only the deputy manager of the Promotion Department at Baiyun Company—put simply, the second-in-command of a department. The competition was fierce: the head of Administration, the Technical Manager, the Project Supervisor… There were five or six strong contenders, all department heads, so Fu Zheng’s chances were slim.

But he was unwilling to give up, and so he could only stew in his frustration.

What irritated him most was that he had been summoned to the General Manager’s office for a conversation—a well-known signal before a promotion, usually a good thing. Yet this opportunity was ruined by a sales manager from “Power Health” Foods Company. The culprit was Chu Bo, who had been persistently pitching “Kidney Silver Deer Antler Syrup.” Fu Zheng had originally intended to buy it, but on that day, Chu Bo lingered in his office and refused to leave, delaying Fu Zheng by a few minutes. This forced the General Manager, his superior, to wait for him—a grave offense, even if only for a brief moment.

A few minutes might not seem long, but making your boss wait, even for ten seconds, is a huge mistake. Predictably, the conversation that followed was formulaic and unpleasant. With his years of corporate experience, Fu Zheng knew his hopes of promotion were dashed, so all his resentment was channeled toward Chu Bo, and more broadly, toward Power Health Company.

Now he was even more troubled, as that reckless Chu Bo had come knocking again.

“You still want me to buy your product? You’re dreaming,” Fu Zheng sneered inwardly, though he maintained a courteous façade, saying, “Please, have a seat!”

Fu Zheng’s manager’s office was small—less than fifteen square meters. The space felt cramped, and sitting on the sofa gave a sense of constraint. Moreover, Fu Zheng hadn’t called a subordinate in to serve tea, a departure from previous meetings, making Chu Bo anxious and uneasy.

Should he address Fu Zheng as “Deputy Manager Fu,” “Manager Zheng,” “Manager Fu Zheng,” or “Deputy Manager Fu Zheng”? The dilemma was both trivial and maddening.

Chu Bo’s mind was in disarray, tangled by his own odd thoughts, leaving him momentarily speechless.

He didn’t speak, so Fu Zheng took the initiative. His tone was calm, but his words were blunt: “Manager Chu, your company’s syrup is actually quite effective. However… my chronic cough has improved lately, so I really appreciate your concern.”

Chu Bo was no fool; he had expected this outcome. Yet being rejected face-to-face, recalling Fu Zheng’s repeated complaints behind his back, left him feeling bitter and at a loss for words. He turned to Zhang He, hoping he would pick up the conversation, shifting the thorny issue onto Zhang He’s shoulders—if not to bear the whole burden, at least half.

Zhang He did not disappoint. He spoke up: “Ahem, Director Fu, actually… we’re not here to sell you our products today. As a valued customer, we feel obliged to care about your health and help you solve any problems…”

The words sounded like those of a salesman, but the content was anything but novel, and in this context, they were painfully awkward. It was the kind of thing sales trainers often say: “We need to be friends with our clients.” Sometimes, this is the perfect excuse for a salesperson with no sales performance—a way to give oneself an out.

Fu Zheng, a seasoned corporate veteran, easily saw through these platitudes. He scoffed inwardly, but politely replied, “I’m very grateful for your kindness. If you’re not busy, why not take a tour of our Promotion Department? I have some work to attend to, so I won’t be able to join you.”

As he spoke, he walked toward his desk—a classic dismissal.

Chu Bo stood up, calculating how to explain things to General Manager Li. He thought he’d just say he and Zhang He went together, but the deal didn’t go through; Li would see it as a shared responsibility, so Zhang would have to shoulder some of the blame.

But Zhang He remained seated and, instead, threw out a bombshell: “I hear Director Fu is competing for the Planning Director position at your company?”

Fu Zheng’s steps halted abruptly. Chu Bo was stunned—Zhang He was being far too direct. In sales, knowing your client is crucial to success, but Chu Bo hadn’t expected Zhang He to bring up this information so openly.

Fu Zheng turned, smiling at Zhang He, “Your company’s sources are impressive.”

His smile was lukewarm, making it impossible to tell if he was angry or amused. Chu Bo was initially surprised, then secretly delighted—let Zhang He mess things up, so Chu Bo could explain himself to General Manager Li later.

But Zhang He was straightforward in a way that left the two old hands bewildered: “Director Fu, there’s a deputy general manager position opening at the Star Five Group’s Baisha Branch. Are you interested?”

This bombshell was even bigger than the last, leaving both men speechless for a long moment.

Fu Zheng scrutinized Zhang He. The young man certainly looked the part, and the words sounded like exaggerated fantasy. Yet Zhang He sat calmly on the sofa, not at all like someone joking—especially since he had pulled out his cheap knockoff phone, switched on the speaker, and the volume was so loud even the deaf could hear:

“Hello, Director Chu? This is Zhang He—yes, it’s me. I have a candidate to recommend for your group’s Baisha Branch deputy general manager position. His name is Fu Zheng, currently deputy manager of Baiyun Company’s Promotion Department. Now, Guanglong Bank is eyeing him for their Credit Department head, since he’s experienced in loans…”

Chu Bo was dumbfounded—what sort of nonsense was Zhang He spouting? Such wild bragging was unheard of.

Fu Zheng was even more confused—since when had Guanglong Bank taken an interest in him? The scale of Guanglong and Star Five dwarfed Baiyun Company by dozens of times. Their deputy general manager and Credit Department head positions were far superior to Baiyun’s Planning Director, let alone any lower roles.

Director Chu’s voice quickly came through the phone: “Oh? That’s interesting. Zhang, you can arrange a meeting with Manager Fu. Let’s sit down and talk. The branch is short on funds, and loans and financing are indeed the way to go. If he can secure funding, the deputy general manager position is his…”

Before Fu Zheng and Chu Bo could process what was happening, Zhang He had already dialed a second number:

“Manager Wang? Hello, this is Zhang He, Director Chu’s friend. Just call me Zhang. We’d like to request a loan of ten million for the Baisha Branch’s business expansion, handled by Deputy General Manager Fu Zheng of Star Five’s branch—yes, Deputy General Manager Fu Zheng. Oh? This afternoon works for a meeting? Great, Director Chu will be present as well…”

When the call ended, Fu Zheng and Chu Bo stood there for at least a minute, speechless. Their half-month-long ordeal had been resolved in five minutes by Zhang He’s two phone calls. It was astonishing, yet this was how business was done.

Zhang He slipped his phone away and smiled, “Director Fu, Director Chu said we should all meet for lunch and have a good chat. Are you available? The location is Emperor Gourmet City!”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Fu Zheng replied eagerly. To meet the legendary Director Chu and possibly secure a deputy general manager position at a branch—he would make time no matter what, even if his family were in mourning.

Zhang He said, “By the way, Director Fu, are you going to have your chronic cough checked at the hospital?”

“No need!” Fu Zheng coughed dryly, “It’s an old problem, just flared up again. You know how expensive hospitals are these days—this illness could cost tens of thousands, maybe require surgery…”

Zhang He winked, “Would you like to try our company’s syrup? It’s specially formulated for your chronic cough.”

“Yes! Yes!” Fu Zheng now looked at Zhang He without a trace of disdain—his eyes were full of reverence, as if praying to the god of fortune for prosperity.

Chu Bo stood rooted to the spot, unable to say a word for a long time. He wasn’t admiring Zhang He’s bold bluffing, but thinking—how had he never come up with such a slick idea himself?

His only worry now was whether Zhang He’s scheme would actually work. From a sales perspective, every road leads to Rome; from a risk perspective, Zhang’s method was truly unconventional—taking the path less traveled, indeed.