Ten years ago, Wen Zhilan tore the last button of Jiang Yuxue's shirt, and with the chirping of cicadas in midsummer and her burning youth, disappeared without a trace before dawn.
Ten years later, the vice president of investment banking of Huarui Bank and the heir to the new energy myth met on a narrow road over a tens of billions of financing projects.
At the negotiation table, they used data to compete and test equity. The tug-of-war between capital and public opinion intensified. But in the gap that no one noticed, Wen Zhilan was still wearing the anklet she fastened herself under his suit pants, and the second button of Jiang Yuxue's shirt was always empty.
When the shady curtain of carbon trading tears apart Haicheng, the floor-to-ceiling windows reflect the intertwined figures late at night. Wen Zhilan's lipstick touched her lips, and Jiang Yuxue's fingers clasped her wrist - ten years of misunderstanding and forbearance were ignited at this moment.
This time, none of them can even think of letting go first.
Intention: Female power, fighting for the right to speak in the capital and energy markets, completing self-growth and emotional redemption.