The Empty Trunk Was the Whole Performance

I once had a boss whose catchphrase wasn’t “Bring the Moutai.” It was another liquor, the company’s hospitality stock. People at a certain rank could collect several cases a month. What they did with it after collection was up to them. In the system, the liquor was for guests. On the dinner table, it was face. In the hands of a driver or personal aide, it was a vote of trust.

There was a rule about whom the boss sent to fetch it. Usually the driver, or someone close to him. Not the new intern. Not just any subordinate at the table. He would hand over the key and say, “Xiao Wang, go to the car. Two bottles.” On the surface, it was an errand. It also drew a circle in front of everyone.

When would he fetch liquor? Suppose the boss attended a dinner hosted by someone else. To show warmth, he might say, “Don’t order liquor. Try mine. It’s good. Xiao Wang, here’s the key. The trunk. Two bottles.” Or suppose he was hosting. To show generosity, or more bluntly, to show that he had power and was doing well, that good liquor was always on tap, he would not use the restaurant’s liquor.

The routine was smooth. The words were in place. The pose was in place. The courtesy was in place. Whether the liquor existed was another matter.

The problem sat right there. The boss knew the trunk was empty. He might have finished it with friends a few days earlier. He might have forgotten to restock. He still sent you. The act of sending you mattered more than the liquor. Everyone at the table heard it: the boss was going to bring out his good liquor. Whether there was any in the trunk was something you would deal with after you came back.

You went. You opened the trunk. Empty. You walked back, came up to the boss, and said softly, “Boss, there’s no liquor in the trunk.”

Then the performance began. He slapped his thigh hard enough for the next table to hear. “Oh, my memory. I drank it with a few friends a few days ago and forgot to pick some up from the storeroom. Xiao Wang, go back and take care of this. We won’t drink this today. Another day I’ll let you try it.” He said it naturally. The slap had just the right force. Too light and it looked fake. Too heavy and it looked like anger. The table usually laughed. “No problem.” “Next time.” The atmosphere got warmer.

If you had been with the boss long enough, you understood. You had to cooperate. Your expression was pious and guileless. You could not have the clever look of “I knew there was none.” You could not have the doubt of “Are you messing with me?” You could not have the earnestness of “So do I really need to go back and handle this?” You had to be honest, reliable Xiao Wang, merely reporting the facts. When the boss slapped his thigh, you lowered your head slightly. When he said another day, you nodded along. When he told you to go back and take care of it, you answered, “Yes, boss.”

The first time I saw this, I did not understand. The boss sent me to fetch the liquor. I went to the parking lot. I opened the trunk. Empty. I stood behind the car for more than ten seconds, wondering if I had the wrong car. I walked around to check the plate. It was right. On the way back to the room, I kept thinking about how to say it. I came up with seven or eight versions and chose the dumbest one: “Boss, there’s no liquor.” When he slapped his thigh, I jumped. I thought he had forgotten. Later I noticed he had glanced at me before the slap. It was a quick glance, but I remembered it.

After half a year with him, I began to see the tricks.

First, the pose comes before the liquor. What he wanted was the pose of “I’m willing to bring out my liquor.” Before the liquor reached the table, the courtesy had arrived. Some hosts do the same before ordering. “Order whatever you want. I’m paying.” A pose is an advance on a favor. You spend it first. Whether and how it gets repaid later is another matter.

Second, it displays authority. Company hospitality liquor, a certain rank, personal discretion: that information had a flavor. The message was “I have this authority. I’m doing well.” Sending the driver or personal aide said, “This is my person.” People at the table might not remember how the liquor tasted. They would remember that the boss said one word and someone went to the trunk. They would remember that the boss said there was none and someone cooperated and said there was none.

Third, it tests tacit understanding. People who had been around long enough knew you could not expose him in public. You could not ask, “Is the storeroom far?” You had to be pious and guileless and hand him the lines. This was social savvy and a compliance test. The boss watched whether you knew when to speak and when to shut up, not how fast you ran errands.

Fourth, boundaries. The whole thing was a face game. Cooperate with the performance if you must. When it comes to private use of company hospitality liquor, false reporting, embezzlement, and similar matters, do not get deeply involved. Do not leave anything that can be held against you. You can be Xiao Wang who fetches the liquor. Do not become Xiao Wang who handles the liquor accounts. Your expression can be pious. Your mind has to be clear.

Once, after a dinner, I waited for the boss in the parking lot. He was the last to come out. He walked to the car and opened the trunk himself. I stood nearby. There was one bottle inside, just one, standing in the corner. The boss glanced at me, closed the trunk, and said, “Let’s go.” He did not mention it on the way. I did not ask. I remembered the bottle’s position: left side of the trunk, next to the cardboard box by the jack. The next time he handed me the key, I took it and asked, “Still the trunk?” He laughed and said, “Yes, the trunk.”

After that, I understood the moment better. Xiao Wang stands in front of an empty trunk. He knows the boss knows there is no liquor. The boss knows he knows. Neither says it. Those few steps back to the private room are a small road in the workplace. You make “there’s no liquor” sound like “I just discovered there’s no liquor.” You let the boss slap his thigh smoothly. You let everyone at the table think it is a small interlude. You are not handling liquor. You are handling the boss’s face.

The workplace has many moments like this. When the boss assigns something, he does not necessarily want that thing done. When he asks a question, he does not necessarily want the answer. When he sends you to fetch liquor, he does not necessarily lack that bottle. Instructions are lines. Tasks are props. You are one of the actors. You have to hear the subtext and see the play within the play. You cannot take the play too seriously. Take it too seriously and you will mistake performance for sincerity, politeness for a promise, and “another day I’ll let you try it” for a to-do item. Refuse to play at all and you will seem stiff, like an outsider who does not know the rules.

The best state is this: pious and guileless on the face, completely clear in the mind. The boss sends you to fetch liquor. Go. There is none. Come back and say so softly. He slaps his thigh. Nod along. He says another day. Take it as a polite formality. You are not unaware that the trunk is empty. You know that at that moment, whether there is liquor does not matter. Letting the boss finish his words and finish his performance is what matters.

The liquor belongs to the company. The face belongs to the boss. The step is handed over by you. When the dinner ends, Xiao Wang is still Xiao Wang. The next time the boss pulls the key with the maintenance tag from his pants pocket and tosses it over, he will first glance at the boss’s eyes, catch it with a pious, guileless look, and say:

“Yes, boss. I’ll go get it.”