Chapter 175: What’s Wrong with the Morning Ad?

Qianmen Quanjude.

"I've saved over 400 yuan. I was thinking of bringing them to Beijing when I reach 1,000, for a nice…"

With tears wiped away, Liang Yonghe forced a smile as he spoke to Li Xian. But looking at the photos on the table, his lips trembled, and tears streamed down his face once again.

After crying enough, Liang Yonghe picked up his glass and solemnly toasted the memorial photos on the table. "Dad, Mom, this is Quanjude's roast duck and Maotai liquor, things only leaders can enjoy. If you know anything in the afterlife, please enjoy them. I'm unfilial for not letting you taste them while you were alive. Wuu…"

In the adjacent private room, where a birthday celebration was taking place, a large table of family members had just raised their glasses to the elderly guest of honor. Liang Yonghe's cry disrupted the moment, making everyone at the table lose their words.

Seeing this, Li Xian quickly apologized to that table with a fist salute and patted Liang Yonghe on the shoulder.

Watching Liang Yonghe staring at the good roast duck with tears streaming down his face, Li Xian didn't know what kind of expression to make or what words of comfort to offer.

Liang Yonghe's parents had died in an accident.

In April, when the fields were being plowed, they were driving their four-wheel vehicle early in the morning when it overturned on a slope. Unable to escape, they were crushed underneath. By the time nearby workers found them, they were already dead, crushed like blood sausages.

Such accidents were common in rural areas. The high center of gravity and crude shock absorption of four-wheel vehicles made them prone to overturning. Plus, the fields at that time were as slippery as slides. Every year, there were always casualties from such accidents.

But Liang Yonghe never expected such a thing to happen to his parents.

After a moment of silence, Li Xian sighed. Liang Yonghe, who had barely eaten and had downed half a bottle of Maotai before the dishes even arrived, was now eating a bite of food.

In the adjacent room, an elderly grandson of the birthday celebrant had just broken the awkwardness by raising his glass and saying, "May you have this day every year, and may you have this morning every year," when Liang Yonghe looked at the oily roast duck spring pancake, and the memorial photos on the table, and began to cry again.

"When I received the call from the logging camp, I thought it must be a nightmare. How could such a thing happen to good people? When the leaders told me to go home and see, I saw my parents lying there, and… and they were unrecognizable. I realized… I realized I suddenly had no parents. Xianzi, how can a person just disappear like that? Huh? How can a person just disappear like that? Wuu…"

The other table could no longer tolerate it.

Several descendants pounded the table and surrounded Li Xian's table.

"Damn! Are you serious? How can you howl at night like this? Isn't it unlucky?"

"Damn it! This is Quanjude, if you didn't know, you'd think it's Chao Yang's He Nian Tang!"

In Beijing, people are particular about face, and curses are rarely used. Chao Yang's was a place for executions, and He Nian Tang was a nearby pharmacy rumored to be haunted and notorious for lost knives and medicine. So, mentioning Chao Yang's and He Nian Tang together indicated genuine anger.

Before the hurriedly arriving waiter could mediate, Liang Yonghe suddenly stood up from his chair, grabbed a bottle from the table.

"Qi Cun! Don't be impulsive!" Seeing this, Li Xian quickly grabbed him, "Yonghe, Yonghe, stop…"

He thought Liang Yonghe was trying to fight out of anger, but instead, Liang Yonghe bowed deeply to the angry diners.

"I'm sorry for causing you trouble. I'm sorry."

Seeing this, the mediator from the restaurant sighed with relief. The restaurant manager had sensed something was off when Liang Yonghe arrived, but couldn't turn away a guest. Unfortunately, the private room next door was booked for a birthday celebration, and there was no other space available.

The other party wasn't unreasonable, and seeing Liang Yonghe apologize and noticing the memorial photos, and hearing Li Xian offer to settle the bill, they simply waved and moved Liang Yonghe to another place.

Unexpectedly, Liang Yonghe, still in mourning and having drunk too much, went to the private room to offer a toast and apologize to the elderly.

"Old man, I wish you health and longevity. I envy your children, really! I truly envy them. They still have the chance to be filial. You are old now, so you must take care. Life is so fragile; you never know when it will end! Ask for whatever you want to eat or drink. Don't end up like my parents, who suffered for a lifetime without any happiness… Wuu…"

In the presence of the iron-faced descendants, the already frail old man in the room also began to cry.

…

After being kicked out of Quanjude, Liang Yonghe was so drunk he was unconscious.

Li Xian had no choice but to carry the memorial photos and take him back to the hotel, taking care of him throughout the night.

For men, there are generally three kinds of sorrow: missing out on a love that was within reach, regretting not achieving the ambitions set in youth, and having parents gone when one wants to show filial piety.

Watching Liang Yonghe, who was still crying in his dreams, Li Xian quietly lit a cigarette.

He thought about how once this issue with the sanitary napkins settled down, he would stay in the business a bit longer. The house was almost finished, and the weather was warming up. He planned to bring Li Daoyun, Li You, Zou Ni, and Wu Shengli over to stay a few more days.

Also… he needed to fix Li Pi's bad habits, which had to change.

A night passed in silence.

The next morning, Li Xian intended to accompany Liang Yonghe, who had woken up without saying a word. But unexpectedly, CCTV called, saying the ad project was finalized and asking him to come over to review it.

Unable to avoid it, Li Xian had to instruct the hotel staff to take good care of Liang Yonghe and rush to the CCTV advertising department.

This time, he was greeted by a young staff member. Li Xian politely offered a cigarette and then picked up the thin proposal.

He thought that since it was produced by CCTV, the quality might not be top-notch, but it shouldn't be too sloppy. However, when he saw the ad proposal, which looked strikingly similar to "Jizhi Cough Syrup," his concept of authority and professionalism was instantly overturned.

Seeing Li Xian frowning in silence, the young staff member asked, "Is this okay?"

Li Xian thought to himself, "Damn it!"

You're treating 100,000 yuan in production fees like this?

"I think this ad could be more heartfelt. I want it to showcase the quick absorption of our sanitary napkins and the new wings' care for women during their period."

"Mr. Li, your ad time is only five seconds." Seeing Li Xian's dissatisfaction with the proposal, the young staff member became a bit upset. He pointed to the contract on the table and said, "For a five-second ad, you expect to make something impressive?"

Li Xian had not slept well the previous night, and combined with Liang Yonghe's tragic situation, his frustration was already high. Now, seeing the young staff member's attitude, he was even more enraged.

What's wrong with a five-second ad?

I spend 750,000 a month on ads, and that's 2 million in three months!

Two million could let Liang Yonghe and his parents enjoy Beijing for ten years!

He leaped up from his chair, "You're giving me this for 100,000 yuan in production fees? Even a random person off the street could do better!"

"Hey?" Seeing Li Xian's outburst, the young staff member was taken aback and snapped back, "What the hell, you think this is a top-tier production? For a morning slot ad, you think you're a big shot? Don't act like you're so important. We're at this level, take it or leave it!"

At this time, the CCTV building was not yet the large complex it would later become.

The facilities and rooms inside were still old-fashioned, and the soundproofing of the reception room doors was average.

Just as the two were arguing inside, a middle-aged woman in her forties with short hair walked by the door.

Hearing the commotion inside, she frowned.