As time passed, the hands of the clock quietly slipped past nine in the morning.
More guests gradually arrived in the lounge one after another. The voices were still low, but the atmosphere was clearly livelier than before. Wei Tingsong glanced at his watch, his expression sharpening as he rose and smoothed his lapels until they were immaculate. He said in a low voice to everyone from the production crew:
"Almost time. Come with me. Remember, we're here to liven up the atmosphere, not to be part of the backdrop. Warm and polite, but know when to stop. That's the bottom line."
"Understood, President Wei."
"Got it."
Everyone answered quietly.
Bei Weiwei also quickly straightened up, carefully smoothing the hem of her dress and the collar of her trench coat. Only after confirming that her appearance was flawless did she follow.
They began brief, polite pleasantries with some of the guests in the lounge one by one.
The production crew had outstanding looks and bearing, and they were used to occasions in the entertainment industry, so their basic social etiquette was quite polished.
Their smiles were appropriate, their greetings well judged, and the atmosphere did become slightly more relaxed and pleasant because of them.
Bei Weiwei also understood why Wei Tingsong had been so nervous.
There were not especially many guests in this lounge, but almost all of them were representatives of powerful local industrial groups in Guan City. Most were basically on the same level as Zhou Ran's father, Zhou Lingjun, or even higher.
Among them, there were indeed some young men and women who appeared to have come with their elders to broaden their horizons—the so-called "second generation."
But even these young people behaved with unusual gentleness, restraint, and composure in today's setting.
Even when a few young