55: Chapter 55 Shop Visit

In the blink of an eye, it was noon.

Qiao Yichen glanced at the time; it was almost twelve.

He picked up his phone and opened the pinned conversation.

"I have to eat lunch with the team. What do you want to eat? I can bring something for you."

He sent the message.

A few seconds later, the screen lit up.

Liu Yanran: "No need. I'll order takeout for myself and just have some congee."

Qiao Yichen: "Alright then."

He, Li Yong, and one other person went downstairs together.

They settled for lunch at a small eatery. While waiting for the food, Qiao Yichen gave Li Yong and Meng Zhi a few reminders about the key points for the afternoon's work. Li Yong thumped his chest to guarantee success, while Meng Zhi diligently noted everything in her phone's memo app.

After finishing the meal and returning to the office, Qiao Yichen didn't immediately go back to his desk. He walked to the door of the Director's office; the door was slightly ajar. He knocked once and pushed it open.

Liu Yanran was seated behind her desk, holding a takeout container and sipping her congee in small mouthfuls.

Seeing him enter, she looked up, her spoon pausing near her lips.

Qiao Yichen looked at the steaming congee in her bowl, and his heart felt a bit steadier. "Just came to see if you've eaten."

"Mhm." Liu Yanran put down her spoon, took a tissue to wipe the corner of her mouth, and then looked at him. "The project I gave you this morning, how are you planning to approach it?"

"This afternoon, I'll first take Shen Bowen to the shop to do a physical walkthrough," Qiao Yichen said. "Get a feel for the place, check out the products and the site."

Liu Yanran turned to look out the window. A fine drizzle was still falling, leaving dense, fine streaks on the glass. "It's still raining. Should we take the car?"

Qiao Yichen also looked outside. After a moment of thought, he nodded. "Yes, let's drive. It'll be more convenient."

"Okay." Liu Yanran responded, reaching for the drawer beside her.

Qiao Yichen walked up to her side, leaned in slightly, and lowered his voice: "Thank you, Ms. Liu."

The instant he finished speaking, he swiftly pecked her cheek lightly.

Liu Yanran froze completely, a faint blush spreading across her earlobes at a visible speed.

She quickly glanced at the door, lowered her voice, and chided him with a hint of playful reproach: "We're in the office... be more careful."

After saying that, she pulled open the drawer, took out a set of car keys, slipped them into his hand, and gently pushed his arm with the back of her hand. "Go take your break. You have to run errands this afternoon."

Qiao Yichen looked at her slightly flushed face, a smile surfacing in his eyes. "Got it."

He turned and walked out of the office, the door closing softly behind him.

Liu Yanran listened until his footsteps faded away before raising her hand, her fingertips gently touching the spot where she had just been kissed. A smile curved her lips unconsciously.

Then, she picked up the bowl of congee again and continued sipping it in small amounts.

Outside the window, the fine rain was like silk threads.

...

At one-twenty in the afternoon, the silence of the lunch break enveloped the office area.

Qiao Yichen stopped next to Shen Bowen's workstation and tapped lightly twice on the partition with his knuckles.

Shen Bowen, who had been resting his head on the desk, immediately woke up, his sleepy gaze sharpening into alertness.

Qiao Yichen made a "shush" gesture to him, pointed at the time on his phone, and then gestured with his eyes toward the entrance of the Planning Department.

Shen Bowen understood immediately, quickly grabbing his notebook, pen, and umbrella, and rising silently.

The two walked, one behind the other, with light, measured steps through the dimly lit office area, where only the occasional sound of a keyboard could be heard, heading toward the elevator lobby.

The elevator happened to stop on their floor, and the doors slid open silently.

Stepping into the elevator, Shen Bowen habitually reached out, preparing to press "1".

"Press B2, the underground parking lot," Qiao Yichen's voice sounded beside him.

Shen Bowen's finger paused, then he pressed "-2" instead, a smile immediately appearing on his face. "Brother Qiao, you drove? That's great! This way it's convenient; we don't have to wait for a taxi or squeeze onto the subway."

The elevator descended smoothly, the numbers ticking down.

"Mhm," Qiao Yichen replied, not saying much more.

Arriving at the B2 parking lot, the air was slightly cool, mixed with the scent of concrete and a very faint whiff of gasoline.

Qiao Yichen led Shen Bowen to the white Audi A4L and pressed the key fob. The car lights flashed, and the unlocking sound was crisp.

"Take the passenger seat." Qiao Yichen opened the driver's side door.

Shen Bowen got into the front passenger seat and closed the door.

A clean, elegant, and soft fragrance instantly enveloped him—the kind of car scent belonging to a girl, clean yet slightly sweet and warm.

His eyes subconsciously swept over the interior: beige seat covers, an exquisite air freshener hanging ornament, everything exuding feminine delicacy.

"Brother Qiao," Shen Bowen laughed, his tone teasing, "This is definitely a girl's car, right? It feels completely different."

Qiao Yichen fastened his seatbelt and started the car. The engine hummed low, and the dashboard lit up.

He looked straight ahead, turned on the indicator, and slowly pulled out of the parking space before replying very calmly:

"It belongs to my girlfriend."

The car left the garage and entered the damp afternoon streets. The wipers swung rhythmically, wiping away the dense strands of rain on the windshield.

Their first stop was the main branch located in the old city district.

The storefront was not large, tucked away in an ancient alley. The sign above the door was a faded wooden plaque inscribed with the four characters "Taste Bud Memory" in an archaic script that also carried the patina of age.

It was the afternoon, and still raining, yet there were seven or eight customers inside. Most were elderly people with graying hair, browsing slowly, chatting in their local dialect with the equally aged Master Craftsman behind the counter. The atmosphere was familiar and warm.

Qiao Yichen and Shen Bowen didn't rush in. They stood under an umbrella by the entrance and observed for a while.

"The business foundation is very strong, customer loyalty is extremely high," Shen Bowen murmured, quickly noting it down in his notebook. "But the age demographic... is entirely concentrated above 50."

Qiao Yichen nodded, pushed the door open, and walked inside.

A rich, sweet aroma, mixed with oil, sugar, and various nuts, rushed toward them.

The variety of pastries was extensive: walnut cookies, mung bean cakes, thin layered cakes, fried dough twists... all were traditional styles, displayed in old glass counters. Business was indeed good; old customers kept coming in, skillfully ordering and having their purchases packed.

Qiao Yichen's gaze fell upon the packaging.

The pastries bought by customers were wrapped by the Master Craftsman in that semi-transparent, pale yellow oiled paper, then tied with paper string—a practiced technique that conveyed the neatness of a bygone era.

In a corner, there were also stacks of white plastic bags with a simple store logo printed in red lettering. However, the design was extremely rudimentary, almost from twenty years ago. The red font was even slightly blurred and smeared.

"Bo Wen," Qiao Yichen picked up an empty plastic bag, his fingertips rubbing the rough material and the fuzzy printing. "Look here."

Shen Bowen immediately understood. He took out his phone and took several close-up shots of the packaging, the oiled paper, the plastic bag, and the Master Craftsman's wrapping process from different angles.

"Packaging is the biggest visual touchpoint and the direct carrier of brand temperament. This current one..." he carefully chose his words, "is very retro, but the feeling of 'old' far outweighs 'classic' or 'artisanal.' If young people got packaging like this, their first impression wouldn't be 'historic,' but 'outdated' or 'inconvenient'—the oiled paper leaks grease, and the plastic bags are too cheap."

Qiao Yichen bought several signature pastries, which were wrapped in that oiled paper and carried in his hand.

Walking out of the shop and getting into the car, he unfolded the oiled paper package, looking at the alluringly colored pastries inside, then looking at the rough packaging in his hand.

"Old customers are buying the memory and the taste. No matter how old the packaging looks, they recognize this brand and the Master Craftsman's hands."

Qiao Yichen said slowly, "But new customers, especially young people browsing in the mall, 'eat' first with their eyes. Packaging is the product's first 'outer garment.'"

Shen Bowen wrote thoughtfully in his notebook: "Core conflict: An exceptionally strong product core (taste, craftsmanship, history) versus severely lagging external expression (packaging, visuals, experience). This is the problem of old shops."