Rebirth in 2011: Starting as an Advertising Genius

The day after the money was distributed, Suzhou experienced its first rain of the summer.

Chen Jianghe stood under the girls' dormitory building, holding an umbrella and a brown paper envelope in his hand.

The raindrops hit the umbrella, making a dense "tap-tap" sound, like someone typing Morse code overhead.

Yuan Meng walked out of the building entrance, wearing a light green thin jacket, her hair braided into a loose plait that hung down in front of her chest.

She paused for a moment when she saw Chen Jianghe.

"What brings you here?" She took the umbrella and stood side by side with Chen Jianghe. The two umbrellas were about an arm's length apart.

"I'm afraid you'll change your mind." Chen Jianghe handed her the envelope. "It's the employment agreement for the studio. Take a look. Sign it if there are no problems."

Yuan Meng opened the envelope and took out two pieces of paper.

Several lines of text were printed in Song typeface above:

[Jianghe Studio Employment Agreement]

Party A: Jianghe Studio (Chen Jianghe)

Party B: Yuan Meng

Position: Planning Specialist

One-month probation period, base salary of 5,000 yuan/month

After probation, the base salary is 8,000 yuan per month, plus project commission (specific percentages to be agreed upon separately).

Job Responsibilities: Video content planning, brand collaboration proposals, project execution supervision, etc.

Below that is a line of handwritten small print, in Chen Jianghe's handwriting: "Commission is 5% of the project's net profit."

Yuan Meng stared at the handwritten words for two seconds, then looked up and asked, "When did you write this?"

"Last night," Chen Jianghe said, putting his hands in his pockets, "I added another one because I was afraid you wouldn't feel it was enough."

"It's not that I think it's not enough," Yuan Meng said, folding the agreement and putting it back in the envelope. Her voice softened. "It's that I think it's too much."

"Whether it's a lot or not, we'll talk about it after you finish a month." Chen Jianghe turned and took two steps into the rain, then turned back. "Let's go, let's go check out the studio first."

Yuan Meng followed behind, her heartbeat becoming exceptionally clear amidst the sound of the rain.

---

Three photos are pasted on the studio wall: one of Su Tang checking in, one of Tang Chao's back as he moves a charcoal grill at a barbecue restaurant, and one of Huang Xiaoqian's profile as she smells gardenias in Huaihua Lane. Below the photos is a sticky note with four words written on it:

"It deserves to be seen."

Yuan Meng stood in front of that wall and looked at it for a long time.

"Did you put this up?" she asked.

"Hmm." Chen Jianghe put the mineral water bottle on the table into a trash bag. "Every time I finish shooting a good video, I print out the screenshot of the most touching frame and stick it on the wall. It reminds me—creating content is not for the data, it's for this moment."

Yuan Meng reached out and gently touched the edge of Huang Xiaoqian's photo with her fingertips.

"So, you asked your advisor to film that video, not to sell clothes?"

"Selling clothes is the result," Chen Jianghe said, squatting down to unpack a cardboard box. "But the starting point was—she looks beautiful just standing there. So she deserves to be seen."

Yuan Meng withdrew her fingers, her heart skipped a beat.

It's not for selling clothes.

It's because she looks beautiful just standing there.

What about yourself?

She remembered the night in Hongcun, remembered him walking over and saying "You paint so well" when she was painting Moon Pond on the windowsill. She remembered him saying, "You were born for this." She remembered him saying, "You are the most beautiful version of yourself."

Were those words also "because they deserved to be seen"?

"Yuan Meng, come help me unpack the boxes." Chen Jianghe's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Oh, here it comes." She squatted down and opened the package next to him.

The box contained samples of Tianji Clothing's new designs—a dozen or so dresses for late spring/early summer, all in light colors: off-white, light blue, lotus root pink, and light green. Yuan Meng took them out one by one, unfolded them, and hung them on the clothes rack by the wall.

"This off-white one looks nice." She held up a piece of clothing in front of her and compared it to herself.

"Are you going to wear it or sell it?"

"..." Yuan Meng glared at him.

Chen Jianghe smiled, said nothing more, and continued to unpack the boxes.

Rain drifted in through the open window, landing on the windowsill and wetting a small patch. The air smelled of rain mixed with the scent of old wood, along with a faint shampoo fragrance wafting from Yuan Meng's place.

It was quiet, but not in an awkward way.

It's a quiet time when two people are doing their own thing, but know that the other is right next to them.

After hanging up the clothes and unpacking the cardboard boxes, Chen Jianghe went to the water dispenser at the end of the corridor, filled two cups with water, and handed one to Yuan Meng.

"Sit down." He gestured to the chair next to the long table.

Yuan Meng sat down, holding a disposable paper cup, waiting for him to speak.

"The studio currently has three accounts." Chen Jianghe wrote three names on the whiteboard:

Su Tang just plays around

Poison Tongue Movie

Their Day

"Su Tang is just having fun—she mainly creates challenge-style videos, currently updating once a week. The last episode did well, with over 150,000 views on Bilibili. The next episode's theme is a 'Labor Day Special,' which has already been filmed and is currently in post-production."

Yuan Meng opened her notebook: "What did you photograph?"

"Sanitation worker experience." Chen Jianghe wrote a few keywords on the whiteboard. "The challenger is Su Tang. We filmed her from 4:30 in the morning, and she swept the streets for three hours, with interviews interspersed throughout."

"Su Tang? That girl?" Yuan Meng remembered seeing Su Tang's videos before; she was lively and spoke a bit loudly, but very genuine. "Can she even scan it?"

"I cried while sweeping," Chen Jianghe said. "By the time I got to the second street, I had two blisters on my hands. Later, during the interview, she said something to the camera—" He paused, "'I will never throw anything on the ground again.'"

Yuan Meng stopped writing.

"This statement is better than any other philanthropist's," Chen Jianghe said.

"So at the end of the video, I asked the editor to keep her original voice saying this with red eyes, without adding background music."

Yuan Meng wrote in her notebook: Su Tang, sanitation worker—genuine feelings, unadorned strength.

"What about 'poisonous tongue movies'?" she asked.

"Zhao Tiezhu is in charge, the one with the Northeastern accent who provides the commentary. Four episodes have been released so far, and the number of followers has grown to over 50,000. The account's data is relatively stable and doesn't require much intervention. It releases one episode every week, with the content focusing on 'watching a classic movie in five minutes.'"

"And what about 'their day'?"

Chen Jianghe took a sip of water: "This account is intended to tell stories about ordinary people."

"So, my current job is to manage these three accounts for you?" She closed her notebook.

"Yes." Chen Jianghe took a document out of the drawer and pushed it in front of her. "Also, I downloaded the topics for this year's College Student GG Festival online today."

Yuan Meng opened the file, which contained the competition's participation guide and a pre-printed list of topics.

"Pickled cabbage fish?" She looked at the brand name on the brochure cover and read it aloud, "Yu Tang Pickled Cabbage Fish?"

"It's a local chain store in Suzhou, with seven locations. The products aren't bad, but the brand is practically nonexistent." Chen Jianghe stood up, walked to the whiteboard, erased what he had written before, and rewrote four characters:

Pickled cabbage is better than fish

Yuan Meng stared at the four characters, her brows furrowing slightly before slowly relaxing.

"So, your core strategy is—to make the side dishes the main attraction?"

"That's right." Chen Jianghe drew a simple triangle on the whiteboard. "Currently, all the sauerkraut fish brands on the market are vying for the recognition of 'fish.' What we need to do is—turn 'sauerkraut' into the core asset of the brand. From positioning and visuals to communication, everything will revolve around 'sauerkraut.'"

Yuan Meng's notebook was half full. She looked up, her eyes shining with a light—the light of "I understand".

"How do I follow the visual path?" she asked.

"Old jar, fermentation, a sense of time," Chen Jianghe said. "The color scheme uses earthy tones, dark brown, and dark gold. The font is a variant of Song typeface, with a handwritten feel. The overall tone should be 'rustic' yet textured—like the old sauerkraut jar from grandma's house, clumsy but warm."

Yuan Meng lowered her head and quickly sketched a few drafts on the paper.

Her brushstrokes were quick, but each stroke was precise—the outline of a jar, a close-up of a pair of chopsticks holding pickled cabbage.

Chen Jianghe stood behind her, looking down at her pen tip moving across the paper.

"The lines here could be a bit thicker," he said, pointing to the edge of the jar on the sketch.

His hand was so close that Yuan Meng could see the shape of his fingernails.

Clean and very short.

"You...you tell me, I'll revise." Yuan Meng's voice was a little tense, and her fingers holding the pen turned slightly white.

Chen Jianghe did not notice—or pretended not to notice.

He withdrew his hand and continued, "The shape of the jar can be a little more clumsy, not too delicate."

The value of pickled cabbage lies in its "rustic" nature, not its "foreign" origin.

Yuan Meng made a few changes, and the outline did indeed become more substantial.

"so?"

"Okay." Chen Jianghe nodded. "Let's finish the first draft first, and then we'll discuss it again next week."

He returned to his seat, picked up his paper cup, took a sip of water, and found it was already cold.

Outside the window, the rain had stopped sometime earlier. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, making the wet red brick wall shine.

Yuan Meng packed up her notebook and stood up: "Then I'll go back first, I have class this afternoon."

"Okay." Chen Jianghe didn't try to stop her.

She walked to the door, placed her hand on the doorknob, and paused for a moment.

"Chen Jianghe".

"Um?"

"Um... when will the Labor Day video be released?"

"It's still being edited, and it should be released around this weekend."

"Send it to me and I'll look at it." She opened the door and went out.

The sound of her footsteps echoed down the corridor, gradually fading into the distance.

Chen Jianghe sat in the chair, looking at the four words on the whiteboard: "Pickled cabbage is better than fish".

He picked up the chalk, added a parenthesis next to it, and wrote two words inside:

(Yuan Meng)

Then he laughed, threw the chalk back into the trough, stood up, and began to tidy up the pile of documents that hadn't been filed yet.

---------

The Labor Day video was released on Saturday night.

The title was chosen by Chen Jianghe after much deliberation:

Every piece of trash you throw away is a reason for her to bend over | Su Tang's Sanitation Worker Challenge

At the beginning of the video, Su Tang, wearing an orange vest, stands on the street at 4:30 a.m., her shadow stretched long by the streetlights. She is not wearing makeup, her hair is casually tied in a bun, and her eyes are a little puffy—she only slept four hours the night before to film this video.

"Today I'm going to experience a job as a sanitation worker," she said to the camera, her voice still hoarse from being woken up. "It's 4:30 in the morning, and I'm as sleepy as a dog. But sanitation workers start work at this time every day."

The comments streamed in—

[Su Tang is so cute even without makeup]

It's 4:30... and I'm still dreaming.

[My heart aches for this young lady]

The next scene shows Su Tang sweeping the streets with sanitation workers.

The broom was taller than her; she gripped the end of the handle, bending over to sweep. Fallen leaves, cigarette butts, snack wrappers, chewing gum stuck to the ground—each item required considerable effort to sweep up.

By the time she reached the second street, her hands were blistered.

She didn't cry, but her lips were pressed into a thin line as she said to the camera, "It hurts so much."

The number of comments started to increase.

Stop filming and let her rest.

I was really moved to tears.

I never knew street sweeping was so tiring.

Halfway through the video, an interview with the middle-aged man was inserted. He was a man in his fifties with dark skin and a bright white smile.

"How many years have you been in this line of work?"

"Eleven years."

What time do you get up every day?

"3:50. I'm used to it; I feel uncomfortable if I don't get up early."

What's the most tiring part?

"In summer, the ground is so hot you could fry an egg on it. And on snowy days, you shovel snow until your arms are sore you can't lift them."

The chat fell silent.

At the end of the video, Su Tang finished sweeping the entire street, stood at the entrance of the sanitation station, and her eyes were red.

"I will never throw things on the ground again," she said, her voice trembling but her tone firm. "Really. I won't."

The screen dims, and a line of text appears:

"Thank you for making this city new every day."

The chat exploded!

I cried.

Su Tang, you're the best!

I won't throw them away anymore, I mean it.

This is the kind of video you should watch on Labor Day.

Yuan Meng sat in her dormitory, hugging her knees, and watched the video twice.

She cried the first time she watched it.

The second time, she turned off the comments and carefully watched Su Tang's changing expressions—from initial relaxation, to struggling to endure, to the final resolute look with reddened eyes. That sense of realism wasn't acting.

My phone vibrated.

It was a message from Chen Jianghe:

[Chen Jianghe: Have you watched the video?]

[Yuan Meng: I've watched it twice.]

[Chen Jianghe: How are you feeling?]

Yuan thought for a while, typed a long message, then deleted it word by word. In the end, she only sent one sentence:

[Yuan Meng: Su Tang is great. Your topic selection is also great.]

[Chen Jianghe: This isn't my topic. It's something you said that day in Huaihua Lane.]

Yuan Meng was stunned.

[Yuan Meng: What did I say?]

[Chen Jianghe: You said, "Every time I see sanitation workers bending over to pick up trash, I feel distressed."]

Yuan Meng stared at the screen, and her eyes suddenly stung.

She did say that.

[Yuan Meng: You have such a good memory?]

[Chen Jianghe: It's not that I have a good memory. It's that I remember everything you said.]

Yuan Meng placed her phone face down on the bed and covered her face.

My face was so hot I could fry an egg on it.

My phone vibrated again.

She turned it over to look:

[Chen Jianghe: Can the creative direction for the sauerkraut fish be finalized before Tuesday?]

Yuan Meng: Yes.

[Chen Jianghe: Go to bed early, don't stay up late.]

[Yuan Meng: You too.]

Chen Jianghe: Hmm.

Yuan Meng stared at the word "hmm" and looked at it over and over again.

One word.

There isn't a single punctuation mark.

But her heart was pounding as fast as if she were running 800 meters.

She put her phone next to her pillow and turned off the light.

In the darkness, her eyes were open, her mind filled with Chen Jianghe's voice—"I remember everything you said."

She turned over, buried her face in the blanket, and smiled.