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Chapter 3 Radio and Television University_1

Translator: 549690339

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Almost subconsciously, Faye Owen leaned back, the disgust written clearly on her face and utterly unhidden. When it came to people like these, Faye Owen wouldn't spare them any sugar-coated words. Disgust was disgust. Having lived, studied, and worked abroad for many years, Faye Owen would not pretend to like someone while harboring dislike, no matter how powerful their backers were, it had nothing to do with her.

It was as if it was only at this moment that Yves King noticed the beauty behind the huge office desk. He also glanced at the middle-aged man standing like a butler to the side, and he couldn't help but chuckled, "I apologize, I drank too much last night and came straight over without time to change. Your coffee roast is quite good, where did you buy it?"

Seeing that this man was apologizing verbally, but had none of the apologetic demeanor, Faye Owen disliked him even more. Her pretty and high-bridged nose slightly wrinkled. It couldn't be just due to excessive drinking, could it? Even with the unpleasant smell of alcohol and smoke, she could distinguish at least two different perfumes on him, Chanel's coco and Dior's midnight poison.

These are two popular perfumes, their scent is quite pleasant, but they have become overly common among female office workers. Faye Owen was expressionless, but her feelings of disgust increased threefold.

Indeed, the woman in front of him was beautiful and her attire was very formal. Her fair and delicate face wore black-rimmed glasses, which gave off a sense of cold intellectuality.

She is beautiful, but too cold, definitely not an easy target to conquer. Even more frightening, if he does manage to have her, it would only lead to endless troubles afterwards. Yves King was no longer in the stage of life where an elusive woman stirred his desire to conquer.

However, that said, this woman's taste is not bad. The decoration, well, it's a bit overdone. It has a low profile everywhere, but it clearly shows her taste that is incomprehensible to ordinary people.

"Your name is Yves King?" Seeing him start looking around leisurely and scrutinizing her carefully arranged decorations with picky eyes, Faye Owen could no longer suppress herself and asked in a calm tone.

"Yes, three-horizontal King, mediocrity from Yve." Yves King sat down on a redwood guest chair with simple lines, but a clear structure. It was a minimalist style. He didn't care about the pressure that he needed to slightly look up to see her face. He kindly explained, "It's just a very common name."

Based on these psychological arrangement techniques, this woman's sense of psychological superiority and control is really strong. However, it does seem a little narrow-minded. Bored, Yves King silently criticized this woman.

Who said that your name is not common? Do you need to smile so brilliantly? Faye Owen, due to various factors, utterly despised this man to the extent that every word and action of his was interpreted with the utmost malice. If she had a choice, she would prefer to kick him out of the company, lest he ruin the environment she had built up.

"I have already read your resume." Faye Owen decided to ignore his words just now and began to question with professionalism. "However, there are a few questions that I don't understand, and I hope Mr.King can provide a direct explanation. Mr.King graduated with a computer science degree from the Open University of China. May I ask, what rank does this university hold within the country? What is your level of computer skills? Are you proficient, and can you use several computer languages, and what are they? What computer-related research projects have you participated in during university, and which awards and honors have you received? Moreover, Mr. King, you have not written a job description about your work experience and achievements after graduating from university."

Yves King was dumbfounded. Was this woman intentionally finding fault or did she really not understand? Just returned from Mars? It's already said to be a television broadcasting university, and yet asking about research projects? Even his graduation certificate was procured for him by others…

"Ahem~"

Tom Donald at his side couldn't bear to watch anymore, and leaned over to whisper: "President, that school…"

Faye Owen went abroad when she was very young and came back only once or twice each year. Although she persistently studied traditional Chinese culture, she really didn't know what a television broadcasting university was. After returning to China, she directly entered this company, and anyone in this company whose resume would be personally reviewed by her couldn't possibly come from a university like that.

After finally understanding what was going on thanks to Tom Donald's help, Faye Owen was absolutely furious. What is this all about? Is this called looking down on me? Looking down on the company? Isn't it popular in China to fake qualifications? Doesn't he know Old Miller? Does he know many people? Even a fake diploma from an established institution would have been better. For this unprofessional man who barged through the back door, Faye Owen had the urge to throw his resume back in his face.

"Well, wasn't it said that Old Miller started this company?" Yves King was a bit confused and dumbfounded: "Could it be that Old Miller was bragging?"

"Indeed, Uncle Miller invested and founded this company, and serves as the chairman." Faye Owen saw that he even dared to mention Uncle Miller at this time, and her anger increased even more. She almost gnashed her teeth and said: "However, I am currently the president of this company. Yves King, listen clearly. Uncle Miller has officially authorized me to manage this company and possess absolute employment appointment authority. Therefore, whether or not you can work in this company, the decision still rests with me."

Yves King was a little perplexed as she sounded more aggressive now. Just as he was about to tease her out of boredom, he could see that the middle-aged, bald uncle was intensely winking at him and subtly pointing his lips towards Faye Owen. Yves King just smiled back at him and, with a sudden surge of mischief, feigned a terrified look. Leaning in with an ingratiating smile, he said, "Well, pretty girl, let's talk things out nicely. I wasn't aware earlier that you were the decision-maker in the company. Please forgive me for my ignorance and lack of manners."

His remark about her being a 'pretty girl' was irritating, but his apology seemed sincere. Thus, the fiery temper of Faye Owen subsided a bit. After all, she needed to respect Uncle Miller for his status. She understood Chinese traditional culture well enough. After all, Uncle Miller had a very good relationship with her father and had done him many favors in the past.

"Let's leave it at that; I'll ask you some other questions." Faye Owen looked slightly relaxed but added in a cold voice, "Also, Mr. King, please use a formal address." Feeling a bit heavy-headed from her hangover, she picked up her coffee and took another sip.

"Alright, as you wish." Yves King tilted his head, looking a bit apprehensive. He hesitantly said: "Should I call you, pretty niece? Are you satisfied with that?"

"Pfft~"

His comment took Faye Owen by surprise. She spat out her coffee, looking far from ladylike, and stared at him in disbelief. Had this man lost all sense of decency and common sense? She said, frostily and word by word, "Mr. King, please watch your words. I am not in the mood for jokes; show some respect."

"I didn't mean it as a joke. Uncle Miller and I are very good friends. If you doubt, you can call Uncle Miller to confirm," Yves King said solemnly. "Moreover, you address Uncle Miller as Uncle, so by our tradition, you should call me Uncle King. And I must say, my niece is quite beautiful. I am complimenting you here, you should say, 'thank you, Uncle King'. By the way, what's your dad's name? He's probably a good acquaintance of mine. I may not have many skills but I do have a lot of friends."

"Uncle King?" Faye Owen's beautifully delicate face began to turn a slight green. She squinted, gritted her teeth, and said fiercely, word by word. She had made up her mind. If he dared to respond to that address, Faye Owen would surely deny him the job, no matter what she had to sacrifice.

But she underestimated Yves King's ability to read the room. He just dismissed it gracefully with a wave of his hand, "Never mind, we're around the same age anyway. Just call me Yves King or if you want you can call me Elder Brother King."

Tom Donald wanted to laugh, but didn't dare to. He was uncomfortable holding it in but he admired Yves King's audacity to flirt so openly.

"Alright, Mr. King," Faye Owen tiredly waved her hand, feeling that if she went on arguing with him, she might get heart disease. She quickly dismissed him saying, "Never mind, let's leave it at that. You've passed the interview. Oh yes, one final question. Why did you choose our company?"

The moment she asked that, Yves King dropped his playful demeanor and replaced it with a moment of silence. He lit a cigarette, and his expression turned serious, deep, and slightly melancholy.

His aura had suddenly changed. It was entirely different from his usual irreverent self. Faye Owen was slightly startled and she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to him than met the eye. Was it possible that there was an extraordinary talent hiding beneath his irreverent, frivolous exterior? Did he have a tale yet untold? Or the heart of a lion?

Faye Owen had studied some history and knew that many capable people in history had liked to do things differently.

Realizing that she may have jumped to conclusions, Faye Owen was now intrigued, wondering what kind of impressive remarks he was going to make. She even let his smoking in her office slide.

Yves King exhaled a puff of smoke and said hoarsely, "Having spent some years out in the world, I've realized that reality is harsh. I came back to Sea City and needed some cash. I remembered that old Miller owed me a favor, so I asked him for a job to help me get by. He suggested that I join his company, so here I am."

The slender fingers holding her delicate coffee cup shook slightly with inner rage. Faye Owen fought the urge to smash the cup straight at his head and responded through gritted teeth, "So you came."

"Yes, and here I am." Yves King replied calmly, maintaining eye contact as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

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