Rebirth: The Ascent of a Socialite-Chapter 643 - 262: Murder

Horses stumble and people make mistakes. Wen Maixue had never suffered a setback on horseback, but today she was utterly out of ideas in front of a few Spaniards. She even doubted whether the accompanying translator had clearly conveyed her message to the COO of ZARA.

"Mrs. Wei Zhi, they disagree, saying ZARA is a socially responsible company, and it cannot let foreigners take the jobs of native people when the market is depressed." Spain is a typical tourist country, relying mostly on tourism for national income. As one of the few large domestic clothing brands, they have taken on a significant part of the social labor force. Hearing that Asian partners intend to move factories out of Spain undoubtedly represents a major blow to their national economy.

"Tell them I’m not trying to steal their workers’ jobs, but given that our competitors have already adopted a low-price strategy, if we can’t cut costs, we have absolutely no competitive advantage," Wen Maixue felt greatly disappointed by their obstinate unreasonableness, as things were not going as smoothly as she had imagined. They completely ignored her smiles and polite treatment.

Several Spaniards sitting at the negotiation table waved their hands, clearly still disagreeing with Wen Maixue’s words.

The translator was caught in the middle, arguing painfully with the increasingly impatient ZARA representatives.

"Make them see the reality. How many of the world’s top 500 have shifted their manufacturing plants to Southeast Asian countries? Yet they only know how to stick to high domestic costs with narrow views. It’s just imitation after all. No wonder the Spanish Armada declined, so narrow-minded." Wen Maixue was annoyed, really failing to understand the rationale of these people. Since the official operation of ZARA, thirty percent of the profit growth has come from the Asian market, don’t these figures speak for themselves?

The translator knew some things could not be translated directly, but Wen Maixue’s contemptuous eyes and loss of elegance in her voice had already made the message clear to the other party.

"They said if you really want to reduce costs, it would be better to simply skip advertising. They don’t understand why the Asian operation is heavily promoting and hiring celebrities; they say ZARA relies on speed and strength, not needing these additional promotional efforts," the translator somewhat regretted taking up this task.

"They want us to pull our ads?" Competing against Espr, whose reputation is rising and advertising is pervasive, without any advertising, Wen Maixue got so angry that she left the meeting, leaving behind a stunned translator and partners.

As she walked out of the negotiation hotel, it started to rain. The rain in March wet Wen Maixue’s makeup, her mood thus irritated, she ignored the hotel shuttle car, walked a few steps, and received a call from the translator.

"Miss Wen, your abrupt departure during the meeting upset them. They say if you don’t come back and apologize, then all future collaboration is off," the translator’s anxious voice added to Wen Maixue’s anger. It had always been her issuing orders, and now even a simple translator was using Spaniards to pressure her.

The rain muddled people’s thoughts and visibility. A Burberry trench coat Wen Maixue wore was splashed with mud by a passing taxi, her fair face, her upset turning her red lips into a dead red.

Defeated, first in love and now in business, Wen Maixue felt like she was a piece of snow, melting under the heat from Su Ziceng. She had always been stronger than Su Ziceng, even at the engagement ceremony. Su Ziceng was nothing but a loser dog, while she was the most beautiful bride everyone paid attention to, but now, she stood alone in Spain, faced with people’s cold sneers. Her beloved man, Pello, would rather face those flashy useless advertisements in China than come to Spain with her.

"Xiao Xue," a deep French voice called from behind, Wen Maixue turned around in surprise, her beige trench coat spinning into a semicircle in the rain, standing on the wet road was not... Pello.

"Olson?" Wen Maixue saw a man looking like a drowned rat. Olson was not wearing a psychiatric hospital uniform but a thick white suit soaked by the rain. Wen Maixue felt it looked familiar; that suit seemed to be the one Pello wore at their engagement ceremony.