[MPREG] I Have a Happy Ending with the Mistress's Ex-Boyfriend

Chapter 22: Mr. Yan, You're a Dog

The two people were walking back to the President's office. In order to get used to the business here, Yan Gan had moved most of his office to this building.

He pushed the door open and opened the laptop on the table. The computer screen lit up, and densely packed file information was displayed on it.

The secretary stood in the office and hesitated: "Sir, why don't I go and talk with Director Wang."

Yan Gan did not raise his head: "No need."

"No need?" The secretary was surprised.

Yan Gan raised his eyebrows, and paused the movement of his fingertips on the keyboards: "Why, is there a problem?"

Secretary Li quickly said: "No, not at all!"

Yan Gan simply leaned back against the office chair, with his knuckles crossed each other, his handsome and elegant face had an interesting smile: "What, what do you think of me?"

Secretary Li said to himself, I would not dare, he shook his head: "I don't dare."

Yan Gan's face gradually became colder: "Then you are very idle, standing here waiting for me to assign you work?"

"......"

Secretary Li had long been accustomed to the boss's moodiness, and he hurriedly bowed and prepared to leave.

When he reached the door, a voice came from behind: "Wait."

Secretary Li quickly turned around, respectfully waiting for the boss's latest command: "Sir."

Yan Gan at the desk had resumed his daily work routine. He tapped on the keyboard with his fingertips: "In the future, there is no need to inquire about Jian Qiaoxin's matter. If he wants to cancel the contract, let him be."

Secretary Li held the doorknob tightly: "Yes."

Came out of the room, he wiped the sweat from his head, and was deeply puzzled. For some reason, he always felt that this matter was endless.

One month later.

The staff of the large studio came and went, the white lights were on, and the photographer surrounded his model while pressing the camera shutter continuously.

It had been almost two minutes since Jian Qiaoxin had maintained a posture sitting on the table.

The photographer shouted: "Mr. Jian, lower your head a little bit, lift up your eyes and look into mid-air, yes, yes, good!"

After bustling around for a while, all the required shots were basically finished. Jian Qiaoxin stood up by himself, and the field assistant handed him a bottle of water: "Thank you."

The director went over and said: "Okay, that's it for today, everyone has worked hard!"

Jian Qiaoxin could not leave. He stayed behind to help the photographer clean up the venue, and bowed to other passing staff: "Thank you."

The staff all smiled and nodded.

Eighteenth-line humble artists will be miserable if they are not sensible. Jian Qiaoxin had always maintained a state of being humble and polite until the end of the work.

When he went back to grab the backpack, a staff member came over: "Mr. Jian, your phone seems to be ringing all this time."

Jian Qiaoxin said gratefully: "I see, thank you."

The staff smiled and said, "No problem."

Pushing open the door of the dressing room, Jian Qiaoxin skillfully found the cabinet, digging out his phone from his backpack, and saw no less than fifty or sixty missed calls from Mother Qiu.