The morning meeting of Huading Group was particularly lively. Lin Aotian's tie was crooked at his collarbone, and the cuffs of his suit were stained with cocoa powder that Su Qing had rubbed off when she baked cookies this morning. Zhou Mingxuan sat at the conference table with his legs crossed, and a crooked dragon pattern was printed on his floral shirt - it was a "limited edition" that Su Qing had printed with cookie crumbs from the oven.
"Mr. Lin, the financial system of Zhou Group shows," the financial director pushed his glasses and paused at Zhou Mingxuan's floral shirt, "the entertainment expenses of the West Coast project exceeded the standard by 300%, of which 70% was used to purchase..." He cleared his throat, "boba milk tea."
The conference room was filled with suppressed laughter. Zhou Mingxuan sat up straight and knocked over the cup of milk tea in front of him: "This is called business gift! The client said he would sign the contract only after drinking my milk tea!" He pointed at Lin Aotian, "Besides, Aotian also drank it. When we were discussing cooperation at the dock last week,
he drank three cups in one breath!" Lin Aotian rubbed his temples, thinking of the scene of drinking milk tea with the representatives of the Southeast Asian consortium in the heavy rain last week - the other party held up a straw and said "This is the most humane negotiation I have ever seen." He suddenly chuckled and tapped the tablet: "Count the milk tea fee into the 'cultural exchange cost', and..."
He looked at Zhou Mingxuan, "Remember to issue an invoice next time you buy milk tea, don't use convenience store receipts to make up the number." The morning meeting ended with Zhou Mingxuan's mumbling. Lin Aotian just returned to the office and saw Su Qing rushing in with a crooked cardboard box. On the side of the cardboard box, "Clan Annual Meeting Souvenir" was written in marker pen, and the tape was wrapped crookedly three times.
"Aotian, look!" She took out a clay dragon from the carton, and tied the tail with a red string. "Zhou Mingxuan taught me to make it. He said it's called 'dragon tail whisk', and it can sweep away bad luck!"
Lin Aotian took the clay dragon, and his fingertips touched the clay crumbs between Su Qing's fingernails - exactly the same as her habit of making handmade gifts in college. Half of a burnt cookie was exposed at the bottom of the carton, and the wrapping paper was printed with "Huading Exclusive", and there were freesias painted on the corners.
"Is this for the clan elders?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Yes!" Su Qing put her hands on her hips, the flour on her apron fell down, "I prepared a modified version of almond dragon biscuits, and the Earl Grey tea that Zhou Mingxuan brought from London, the elders will definitely like it!" She suddenly saw the cocoa powder on his cuffs, "Oh, you're wearing the wrong suit again! This one is paired with a maroon tie!"
In the clan meeting hall in the afternoon, the thirty-six elders stared at the clay dragons and burnt biscuits on the table, and the atmosphere was subtle. The elder's finger slid across the broken tail of the clay dragon, and suddenly chuckled: "Miss Su's craftsmanship reminds me of when I was young and I was learning to make ship models, I always put the keel crookedly."
Su Qing's eyes lit up, and she took out a photo album from the carton: "Elder, look! This is the model airplane that Aotian made when he was in high school. The wings were glued upside down, and they said 'reverse design is more aerodynamic'!"
The elders' eyes fell on the photo. Seventeen-year-old Lin Aotian was holding a plane with crooked wings with a stern face. On the wing, "Su Qing Exclusive" was written with correction fluid. The third elder suddenly coughed to hide his smile, and the elder's cane tapped a brisk rhythm on the ground.
"Since it's a souvenir for the annual meeting," the elder looked at the cocoa powder on Lin Aotian's sleeves, "I suggest that Miss Su be in charge of the dessert table for this year's clan dinner."
Su Qing knocked over the clay dragon when she jumped up, and the red rope tail swung on the elder's cloth shoes: "Really? I also want to make dragon-shaped macarons, although I baked them into cookies last time..."
The atmosphere in the meeting room was more relaxed than ever before. Lin Aotian looked at Su Qing's shining eyes and suddenly remembered the words in his mother's diary: "The warmth of the clan is hidden in the clumsiness of young people." He suddenly said: "By the way, I suggest that the old sailors of Zhou Group can serve as the emcees of the annual meeting. Their stories of sailing are more moving than any speech."
In the evening in the warehouse of Zhou Group, Zhou Mingxuan was scratching his head in front of a pile of old documents, and the back of his flowered shirt was full of sweat stains. Lin Aotian pushed the door open and saw him squatting on the ground sorting out the old sailor's logbook. The documents were marked with strange keywords such as "boba milk tea" and "freesia" with fluorescent pens.
"These logbooks are much more difficult than financial statements!" Zhou Mingxuan held up a yellowed booklet, "Old Chen actually wrote in the 1998 record 'Today I bought scallion pancakes for Xiaoxue (Lin's mother)', how to file this?"
Lin Aotian took the logbook and saw a smiley face next to his mother's name. He suddenly remembered what Su Qing said in the office today: "The stories of old sailors can impress investors more than K-line charts." He suddenly chuckled and patted Zhou Mingxuan on the shoulder: "Make these stories into audio and put them in the 'Dragon Claw Mark' column on Huading's official website, saying... This is a lighthouse in the ocean of capital."
In the bedroom of the old house late at night, Su Qing practiced clan etiquette in front of the mirror, but turned "three bows and three yields" into radio gymnastics. Lin Aotian leaned against the door frame and laughed out loud, holding her newly baked dragon-shaped biscuits in her hands - this time they were not burnt, but there was a "cavity" (made of chocolate chips) at the dragon's mouth.
"What are you laughing at!" Su Qing picked up a pillow and threw it at him, "If you make a fool of yourself at the dinner tomorrow, you will be scolded by the elders!"
"It's better to make a fool of yourself," Lin Aotian caught the pillow, which still had her body temperature on it, "The elders should have gotten used to it. Their clan leader's wife is a strange woman who can bake dragon-shaped biscuits into hippos."
The phone vibrated on the bedside table, and Chen Mo sent a message: "The CEO of the Southeast Asian consortium wants to meet you. He said he was moved by the story of the old sailor and wants to make additional investments." Lin Aotian looked at Su Qing's back as she gestured in front of the mirror, and suddenly chuckled: "Tell him that he can invest, but he must first learn to drink bubble tea and give Miss Su's dessert table a five-star rating."
The night wind brought the sound of a ship's whistle in the distance, and Su Qing suddenly pointed out the window: "Look! Does the light of Huading Building look like a dragon's tail sweeping across the night sky?"
Lin Aotian looked at the lights of the city and remembered the scene he saw in Zhou's warehouse during the day: the old sailors sat together, flipping through the album with their calloused hands, and their laughter mixed with the aroma of milk tea. He suddenly realized that the so-called Longyu business trip was never a cold number game, but like the cookies baked by Su Qing, the wood carvings carved by Zhou Mingxuan, and the stories of the old sailors, with imperfect warmth, brushing against everyone they met.
When Su Qing's alarm clock rang for the seventh time, she finally gave up the clan etiquette and turned to studying macaron recipes. Lin Aotian looked at her back as she lay on the bed with her apron tied backwards. He suddenly felt that such imperfections were the most touching part of life.