Chapter 14 This is not Paris

Guangzhou's winter that year was particularly cold. Looking at the single-digit temperatures, Jian Zhen didn't feel much, after all, winters in her hometown were a solid minus ten degrees Celsius. But even the friendly temperature couldn't withstand the lack of heating! Jian Zhen, who wasn't used to wearing long underwear, caught a cold as soon as winter arrived. She worked from home for several days in a row, with colleagues coming to her door every day to urge her to finish her work. This forced her to drink several large cups of cold medicine and force herself to go to work on Monday when she was almost fully recovered.

In fact, the Qili Building is equipped with central air conditioning, but due to the aging of the pipes, some air vents have stopped working, including the one above Jian Zhen's head. Some kind colleagues suggested that she switch places with them, but soon they found that the reason why Jian Zhen caught a cold at her workstation was mainly due to her wearing only a single layer of clothing indoors on a cold day. The air vent above her head could only bear secondary responsibility at most.

"Your fingernails are frozen purple, why aren't you putting on your down jacket?"

"No way, I can't even bend my arms when I wear them." That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but Jian Zhen genuinely felt that the bulky arms would affect her creative process, and she'd rather keep them cold.

"Then why don't you get a vest to wear? Look, everyone in the office has one!"

“…It’s too ugly.” Jian Zhen stuck out her tongue awkwardly.

The other person happened to be wearing a vest, and after hearing what she said, she was speechless. She rolled her eyes and pointed at her, saying, "You're just showing off! You'll regret it when you're old."

Jian Zhen took a tissue to blow her nose, then crumpled it into a ball and tossed it casually without looking at it. The ball landed precisely in a nearby trash can.

She continued to bury herself in Photoshop on her desktop. She didn't have time to think about what would happen when she got old. The most important thing right now was to finish the original artwork for the second episode of "Mystery Valley".

Having joined Qili for six months, she has successfully passed her probation period and become a full-fledged office worker. Three months ago, she was assigned to the "Mystery Valley" team as a key animator. Animation production is a time-consuming and labor-intensive project, and she is obviously not the only key animator on their team. Here, she met director Da Mei, Er Yuan Zixin, colorist Yi Fei, cinematographer Pan Pan... and of course, her most familiar colleague, production coordinator Paopao, who was urging her to make progress every day.

Overall, the team atmosphere at *Mystery Valley* is good, united, and friendly. Although there have been minor hiccups on the project, nothing major has happened so far. Therefore, Jian Zhen can confidently say that her six months of working life haven't been as dark and terrifying as Director Jian described when she left home, but rather as radiant and beautiful as she had imagined.

—It has absolutely nothing to do with it.

Ultimately, the problem lies in the vast gap between ideals and reality. When Jian Zhengan was working on her graduation project, she single-handedly handled every aspect, from script planning, storyboard design, original drawing, coloring, photography editing, sound effects synthesis to final review and revisions. She treated her work like a child, pouring her heart and soul into it, yet finding joy in the absolute creative freedom it afforded.

Qili is different. This renowned animation factory is jokingly called "anthill" by outsiders because most of the employees only need to do very narrow work in their positions. For example, Jian Zhen, as the original artist, is only responsible for the initial drafts of the original drawings for episodes 2, 4, 6, and 8 of the first season of "Mystery Valley". The first season has a total of 12 episodes, and the original drawings for the other parts are completed by two other artists.

To maintain a consistent art style throughout the TV series, the three of them had to conceal their unique artistic styles, even after the storyboards, layout, and character designs were finalized, leaving little room for the animators to express themselves. But there was no other way; they had to accept the reality of locking away their creative ideas and strictly following the requirements—that was their job.

For those who pay them, the sole purpose of their work is to improve the efficiency of the animation factory; in this era, efficiency is money.

Jian Zhen would occasionally drift into a daze during busy work breaks, and at these times she would always involuntarily recall the question Xu Weisheng had asked: "Is animation art or industry?"

At that time, he meaningfully reminded himself that he would naturally have the answer when he met Qili. Now it seems that... Qili's answer to him was indeed completely different from what he wanted to choose half a year ago.

Here, the works are more like dolls churned out of a high-end assembly line—exquisitely made, yet uniformly dull. Even when there is innovation, it's nothing more than a hodgepodge of borrowed ideas stitched together. Jian Zhen could almost understand why Lin Sheng's later works were all so boring.

Unfortunately, Lin Sheng was no longer there, and even if she wanted to express her understanding, she didn't know where to look for him. This brings us to Jian Zhen's initial purpose in coming to Qili—to find someone.

She came here hoping to get closer to her former idol, but after entering Qili, she discovered that the company was huge and had a complex organizational structure. Most people had only heard of Lin Sheng and had never seen him in the company. When she pressed further, the other party would often wave their hands and say, "I've only been here for a short time, I'm so sorry."

"Okay, thanks." Jian Zhen could only sigh with a wry smile. She couldn't blame them. In the six months she had been here, she had witnessed countless newcomers go from being clueless to becoming experienced, and then from being experienced to leaving. The career path that would take three to five years in other companies was completed by many people here in just over half a year. HR called it a well-developed talent pool and the creation of an efficient engine. Outsiders watched the spectacle and jokingly called them "highly mobile, the new Oriental of the animation industry." Only the medical reports of the individuals involved revealed the truth—working with an attitude of forgetting to eat and sleep resulted in becoming fuel for the major shareholders. And if they didn't burn enough, they would be labeled as inferior products and kicked out of the fuel team.

Jian Zhen's second son, Zi Xin, is a local. She graduated from an ordinary art college and got lucky in the interview. She was hired by Qili as a replacement and received the lowest salary among the new graduates in the same batch. Just as she was about to pass the probation period, she received a notice of dismissal from the human resources department.

Jian Zhen only learned about the news after she came to work on Monday. She thought that because she hadn't come last week, the news was delayed, but she didn't expect that the person in charge had been notified not much earlier than her—only two hours earlier. She poured herself a cup of coffee from the break room, went around to Zixin's workstation, put down the coffee, and the girl took it with a smile: "Thank you, Sister Xiaozhen."

"This is mine." Jian Zhen snatched the paper cup back from her hand. Seeing her look up, her eyes were red and swollen, probably from crying. Yet, she was still forcing a strong smile in front of her: "Ah, I thought it was for me. I'm so pitiful..."

"This is for you." Jian Zhen pulled out a bottle of warm milk from behind her back. "You're about to leave, why be so dedicated? Can't you slack off a little?"

"Yes, I can." Zixin held the milk bottle tightly in her hands, rubbing it back and forth for a while before saying softly, "But I can't do it. Hey, Sister Xiaozhen, do you think being too responsible at work is a kind of illness? Should I go to the hospital to get it checked out?"

Jian Zhen laughed, then turned her head and sneezed. Turning back to her, she blew her nose and said, "When you're cured, please introduce this miracle doctor to me."

They were talking quite loudly. Someone at a workstation in the distance looked up and glared at them with displeasure, but the two seemed oblivious and continued talking.

Jian Zhen: "When was your last day?"

Zixin: "This Wednesday, um, that is, the day after tomorrow."

"So fast?" Jian Zhen hissed. "Then you can't even finish revising the manuscript you're currently working on, can you?"

"It's okay, working overtime is about the same. Xiaozhen, you've done such a high level of work. Many times I felt like you had finished Eryuan's work. It must be so nice to be Eryuan."

Of course, Jian Zhen was happy to be recognized like this. She didn't hide her feelings and said generously, "That's right. I wonder who will be lucky enough to take over your pit after you leave."

The two laughed together, not loudly, but it still stung some people's nerves. That disgusted gaze fell on them again, and this time they both noticed it.

Zixin fell silent, then winked and gestured to Jian Zhen from behind the computer screen.

Jian Zhen smiled knowingly, sat on the desk with her long legs propped up on the ground, and sipped her coffee.

"Let's have a meal together before you leave." She finished her coffee, put down her paper cup, and patted Zixin on the shoulder.

"Okay, I'll take you to eat roast goose." Zixin's eyes lit up when she talked about delicious food.

Jian Zhen smiled and nodded, got up and returned to her workstation. Not long after she sat down, she received an email from the production assistant to the entire project team, asking everyone to gather at 5 p.m. for a meeting.

This idea is worse than the stench of feet that haven't been washed for three months. Holding a meeting at five o'clock is practically an attempt to keep people from leaving get off work.

However, within this elaborate organizational structure, the project producer's voice sometimes even surpasses that of the director. What can be done? After all, they're in charge of the finances. Ultimately, the survival logic of large corporations and small families is the same: whoever controls the finances controls the power of discourse.

Jian Zhen slowly strolled into the conference room at 5:01. She had convinced herself to come while holding her nose. The moment she opened the door, she found that almost everyone had arrived, most of them sitting on either side of the conference table, looking lifeless and clutching their computers.

"Sorry, I just went to the restroom." She nodded curtly to the producer sitting at the front.

"Sit down quickly." The producer, who was good at judging people by their status, had somehow found out about Jian Zhen's family background. From then on, his attitude towards her was always in a quantum entanglement state of "disliking her but unable to do anything about it." This time, he rolled his eyes and unleashed his firepower on everyone equally: "From now on, no one is allowed to be late for my meetings. Otherwise, if you are one minute late, the meeting will be extended by half an hour."

"Damn." "Are you crazy?"

Amidst the hushed whispers of everyone, Jian Zhen found a seat and looked around. When she realized that Zixin wasn't there, a bad feeling suddenly rose in her heart.

Sure enough, halfway through the meeting, the producer called her name: "Jian Zhen, your second film hasn't arrived yet, it's expected to be next month. In the meantime, you can take on the second film's work yourself, is that alright?"

Although it was a question, the tone didn't sound like a discussion at all!

Jian Zhen tilted her head, frowned, and said, "Why? Of course not."

The producer looked at her sarcastically and said, "Aren't you always known for your high production quality? I imagine your second project shouldn't have been too much work, right?"

“That doesn’t mean Zixin isn’t working.” Jian Zhen’s anger flared instantly. She insisted on bringing up the name of the person who had been kicked out of the team: “It also doesn’t mean her work isn’t important.”

"I didn't say this position isn't important. The problem right now is that the team is having some difficulties!" The producer pointed to the director on the left and said insincerely, "Isn't it because our beautiful sister hasn't been able to recruit a suitable person yet? The capable should do more, and everyone is very busy, so we can only ask you to hold on for now."

Jian Zhen sneered, turned her face away, and stood up, saying, "I'm really sorry, I'm still sick. You should increase Da Mei's budget; that's the key to solving the problem."

"Are you still sick?" The other person looked her up and down exaggeratedly for a few seconds, then clicked their tongue and said, "Whose fault is it? It's so cold, why do you have to dress so nicely? This is Qili, not Paris."

Is it funny?

Jian Zhen stared at him expressionlessly for two seconds. No one in the room played along with his joke, and the truth of the joke was revealed in the silence, showing its provocative nature.

Jian Zhen walked through the still crowd out of the office, restraining herself from breaking or smashing anything. She thought of Lin Sheng, who had left the company after only two years. She used to think he disappeared too quickly, but now it seemed that this guy could actually endure for two years! Like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle!