Back in the women's fashion design department, colleagues were still bent over their work.
Tong Xiaomian was polishing a draft on the computer when she saw Jiayi return, she lifted her hand and waved, "Jiayi, how did it go, did you deliver it?"
Jiayi's mind was still preoccupied with how to explain things to Fang Yao, somewhat distracted; she didn't hear what Tong Xiaomian had said at first, and only after a moment did she respond with an "Ah," "Yes, it's delivered."
Tong Xiaomian gently patted her on the shoulder, "Were you scolded by Manager Shi from UA? Don't worry, just take the words of that menopausal old man as a breeze, in one ear and out the other, don't take it to heart."
Something occurred to Jiayi, "Oh right, Xiaomian, why was the sample garment torn?"
The sample garment was the one Tong Xiaomian had taken out of Fang Yao's office and given to her, so she should have inspected it beforehand.
