On Tuesday morning, I took out the old X-Trail from Jingji's parking lot and drove straight to Yaoxuan.

The 7 o'clock office was lifeless, the chairs were all staggered around their workstations, and the creative staff's desks were always a mess — useless gachapon ornaments, mugs with the previous day's drink still left in them, tear-up calendars that never updated in less than a month, the kind of sidelined notebooks and discarded briefs that were used as scratch paper were scattered everywhere in convenience stores.

The Lego stacked in the corner still has the scene we set up 2 days ago.

In fact, I have the impression that the creative department should be more cluttered than other departments. In the days when I was still in Beijing, I had to deal with a pile of paper every day - the packaging color samples for proofreading could be stacked in thick stacks according to different tastes and specifications, not to mention the slightest color problem would be re-typed, coated paper magazine spreads proofing accurately calculated the size of the bleed, and hand-drawn layouts and storyboards, not to mention layer after layer of briefs - the older advertisers will tell you that in their time, Creatives come out of all kinds of paper piles and all kinds of colors of ink.

I put away most of the tomes of the cases that I brought to Yaoxuan for my own convenience, took away the special mugs, and put the brief and a few pieces of paper with storyboards and copywriting into the shredder, and my workstation was completely cleaned up.

As the hour hand approached 9 o'clock, Yaoxuan's people walked into the office one after another. Originally, the people here don't usually talk to me much, but after yesterday's incident, everyone seemed to avoid me, but today the usual noisy morning has become a silent auditorium. Feeling so embarrassed that I felt empty, I was going downstairs to Attendere to buy a cup of coffee with a freshly baked croissant.

When I went out, I almost bumped into Halu who rushed in.

"Why are you still reckless." I frowned.

She didn't have time to explain, so she hurriedly ran to the fingerprint punch card, and a few seconds before 9:30 arrived, the sound of "Di-" sounded crisply.

She looked back at me while panting: "Traffic jam, so ......"

I nodded.

"I'm going to buy breakfast." I pointed to the door, gesturing where I was going. Halu nodded, in response.

Just as we were at a loss, a high-pitched and annoying voice rang out at the door.

"Director Deng, I looked for you for a day yesterday—" Sun Yao had a smile on his face that wouldn't make people feel comfortable no matter what, "How about going to my office now?" ”