Chapter 29

Perhaps because Jing Yuqi had been too blunt, Shu Chi was somewhat distracted during the afternoon’s work.

The new department supervisor, in her early thirties, stood beside Shu Chi, feeling nervous and jittery.

Every company had its peculiar gossip. She hadn’t been there long before she learned how her predecessor had left.

Either an ambiguous thing with the boss that got rejected, or later jumping ship to a branch of another company, directly fleeing this city.

She thought: So lesbian relationships don’t really differ much from heterosexual ones.

It wasn’t until after work that Shu Chi was still pondering Jing Yuqi’s interpretation.

And Ding Ya’s completely different WeChat Moments for her versus others.

Besides that post, there were several other Moments posts Shu Chi simply couldn’t see.

From the moment she added Ding Ya on WeChat, she knew this person loved sharing her life.

After all, the number of Moments posts was too many to scroll through, and that was just looking at the past year alone.

Those posts visible on Jing Yuqi’s phone were, without exception, all everyday shares from Ding Ya.

[The boss from the partner company has a very distinctive appeal.]

No picture.

[Isn’t my dog cute? This friend says she’s universally, supremely cute.]

Attached was a WeChat screenshot.

It was of a chat interface between Ding Ya and Shu Chi. Jing Yuqi recognized it because Ding Ya hadn’t censored the profile picture.

During lunch, Jing Yuqi had even explained to Shu Chi—

“If your chat logs like these were made public, anyone would ask if something’s going on, right?”

[Today, hugged my dog while seeing my brother off at the subway. On the way back, I met a kind-hearted person.]

Attached were two pictures: one of the dog in someone’s arms, and one photo taken from the passenger seat, showing a landmark of Bramble City’s Third Ring Road.

Jing Yuqi had even snorted, fiercely sucking up a tapioca pearl. “I’d recognize your car even if it was burnt to ashes. I didn’t know you were so kind-hearted.”

Jing Yuqi’s trailing tone was dramatically undulating, pure teasing.

This made Shu Chi completely lose her appetite. By the time she got off work in the evening, she was so hungry her stomach felt like it was perforating. She didn’t rush home but went downstairs to eat first.

At noon, just as Shu Chi was about to flee, Jing Yuqi had seriously asked: “So, what do you plan to do regarding that online love of yours who’s come back from the dead?”

Shu Chi thought about it. “Meet once, if possible.”

She felt the chances were slim.

Her virtual online wife—even though the saved name was the same as back then—Shu Chi could sense from her tone that she had changed.

Time had passed, circumstances had changed. Who could guarantee remaining unchanged?

Shu Chi had become someone who could afford the luxury car the other person had once wanted, but her wife was long past being the person who wished to elope with Shu Chi.

She had a new life and a new husband. Her words were filled with polite deflection and distance.

Shu Chi wanted closure.

Those lingering attachments, once put down, she wouldn’t bother her again.

She suddenly thought of what Ding Ya had said during that meal.

Some determined confidence, some stubborn persistence, arrogantly unreasonable yet not producing any dislike in Shu Chi.

She wanted to advise her to let go, yet couldn’t bring herself to say it.

After all, she somewhat envied the other’s courage.

Ding Ya was younger than her, yet seemed to possess boundless vitality. In this city of steel and concrete, she still maintained a clear-headed way of thinking.

Unlike Shu Chi, who had no real direction to rush towards. Jing Yuqi still wanted to promote her own brand; Shu Chi was always just a supporting player.

This company hadn’t started as her ambition either.

Past six o’clock, Ying Qixin across from her left, tossing Ding Ya a pack of Bugles she hadn’t finished that afternoon.

Ding Ya: “Who are you palming off your scraps on?”

Ying Qixin glanced at their joint-department head’s office. “I’m leaving first, okay? Something’s up.”

Ding Ya: “Why are you sneaking around after work? Just go.”

Although they were both young Brand Supervisors, they still had a boss above them. The boss had been away for a few days and hadn’t rested since returning.

This made many people too embarrassed to leave right on time.

Ding Ya was always bold, leaving when her work was done. She wasn’t as fast as Ying Qixin today purely because she hadn’t finished her tasks.

Once Ying Qixin left, others gradually followed suit.

The new intern hadn’t even started his senior year of university, saying he had few classes and came in three or four days a week. His workstation was placed next to Ding Ya’s, where a recently departed colleague used to sit.

Probably because he was sitting next to a supervisor, he was inevitably timid.

Ding Ya caught him glancing at her several times. Just then, her old phone buzzed with a new message.

She didn’t rush to look at it but said to the boy beside her: “Aren’t you leaving yet?”

As if granted amnesty, he grabbed his fanny pack and bolted.

Ding Ya chuckled, lowered her head, and opened the reply from her cheap electronic husband—

Can I see you once?

Was Shu Chi off work?

Ding Ya sent an emoji to Shu Chi.

The other party sent a question mark.

Ding Ya didn’t say anything more and directly replied to that account—

Where are you?

The reply came quickly.

[Bramble City. You?]

The old phone was a bit laggy. The delay caused Ding Ya to mis-tap an emoji. A kiss emoji abruptly appeared on the screen.

Ding Ya: …

The cheap husband on the other end: ?

Ding Ya thought: Has this person really lost interest in me now?

So completely lacking in romance.

But the next second, she felt this suited her perfectly. Only by making Shu Chi truly let go could she pursue her fervently.

In a real, tangible way, bit by bit, consume Shu Chi entirely.

[Wife]: Sorry, a bit laggy.

[Wife]: I’m in Bramble City too. What a coincidence.

The dumpling house downstairs from the company was packed at this hour. Shu Chi had a particular fondness for wheat-based foods, often teased by Jing Yuqi for not being like a Southerner.

Shu Chi’s hunger was now dispelled. She was even a little excited.

Just a little.

Her excitement mostly stemmed from being in the same city. After mentally resolving things, she also smoothly changed the other’s saved nickname.

From Wife to Bean Sprout.

[Then you decide the time. I’m fine with anything.]

Ding Ya looked at this sentence, unwrapped a milk candy with one hand while tidying her things with the other, thinking about the timing.

It wasn’t the right moment yet.

[Bean Sprout]: Okay.

Shu Chi didn’t reply again, and Ding Ya paid it no further mind.

She vaguely felt Shu Chi had let go, but wasn’t entirely sure. The repeated probing over time still made her feel Shu Chi was deeply attached to the online version of her.

We’ll see after this month if my Colored Diamond stays lit.

It’s on auto-pay, after all.

~

Shu Chi didn’t mention a single word about Ding Ya’s WeChat Moments to her directly.

She felt it was an awkward topic to bring up. Unexpectedly, at the end of the month, after the second phase of the project concluded, Jing Yuqi organized a team-building event.

Participating members from both companies were invited. Ding Ya was naturally on the list.

Team building was always an activity office workers disliked. At least at her own company, Ding Ya hated team building.

And she wasn’t alone; Ying Qixin disliked it too.

Ding Ya was a homebody. Ying Qixin wanted to date. Team building was always on Friday night, the best Friday night of the week, spent with colleagues. It easily dampened one’s mood.

When Ding Ya was a team member, she couldn’t defy it. After she was promoted to supervisor, she found it even harder to refuse.

Ying Qixin could use her boyfriend feigning illness—even without needing a hospital stay—as an excuse. Everyone knew Ding Ya was single, and she also had to entertain the interns. The childish games some higher-ups came up with made her feel like throwing darts by the time she got home.

This year’s team building was slightly better: a round of Ultimate Frisbee and it was over.

Ding Ya would definitely attend Wellpond’s team building. Ying Qixin’s boyfriend, having been “hospitalized” too many times, also had to show up this time.

Ying Qixin’s mood was actually decent. “Wellpond’s team-building planner is way better than our company’s.”

The chosen location was a Hot Spring Manor.

It wasn’t cheap. The ones footing the bill were Wellpond’s bosses. Even the project interns were invited.

Ding Ya, despite years in Bramble City, had never been to this place. Though not far, it was a route she’d simply never taken.

This time it was a direct bus trip, staying one night.

After all, after the transferred holiday came New Year’s, and family members were allowed. Ying Qixin brought her boyfriend along.

Unfortunately, her boyfriend got on the bus and immediately slept like a dead pig. She could only chat with Ding Ya across the bus aisle.

Ying Qixin: “I was originally going to say we’d do a scripted murder mystery game for New Year’s, but this guy isn’t going back to his hometown after all.”

Ding Ya hadn’t had much hope for it anyway. “I never really planned to do the murder mystery game with you. I just agreed casually.”

She had recently gotten ear-grazing highlights, making her look a bit more mature than her previous pure black dye job, but not by much. This face destined her to look like a university student even at thirty.

Ying Qixin sighed. “You’re so cold.”

Ding Ya: “Nah, I’m super pumped.”

She smiled, her eyes curving into crescents. She’d even drawn a tear mole at the corner of her eye with eyeliner, and with the addition of shimmery loose powder, her whole person seemed to glow.

Ying Qixin: “But this Hot Spring Manor is huge. There’ll probably be lots of people. Wellpond’s boss is so generous, the per-person cost is really high.”

Ding Ya also found it a bit strange. This place’s consumption level was high. Even if team-building events chose remote locations, picking a mid-to-high-end place like this didn’t seem cost-effective.

Obviously, this wasn’t Shu Chi’s idea.

Ding Ya cracked a joke. “Scared of running into an ex-boyfriend?”

Not many on this bus had brought family members. After all, most were young people drifting in the city, with many single. Of the three Brand Supervisors—Ding Ya, Ying Qixin, and one man—only Ying Qixin didn’t lack a partner.

That male supervisor of the same rank was also an introverted geek. The interns were all single too. At a glance, it looked like a monks’ temple.

Ying Qixin: “Bullshit. How could I meet someone from the underworld when I’m in the world of the living?”

She said this a bit loudly. An intern in the back row whispered, “Sis, you’re making it sound creepy.”

Ding Ya laughed, looking at Shen Mu’s message—

Little Ya, what a coincidence! The experience voucher I drew is for the Hot Spring Manor. What time are you arriving?

Ding Ya checked the time and replied.

She exited and looked at her pinned chat. Shu Chi—this person even used her own name as her ID, making it look almost like a pseudonym.

Her message was from a few minutes ago.

I’m already here.

Ding Ya checked the Dianping reviews for this Hot Spring Manor. The men’s and women’s baths were separate, but you could choose double-person options.

She asked Shu Chi: “Are you going to soak in the hot springs with us?”

Shu Chi took a few minutes to reply. “Us?”

Ding Ya asked, knowing the answer: “Isn’t it separated by gender?”

Shu Chi directly sent a process flow chart. Her company’s team-building planner might have come from a wedding planning background; it was meticulously organized and even listed the little games to be played.

Ding Ya didn’t find them childish; she thought they were rather retro.

She hadn’t played Truth or Dare in ages.

Ding Ya asked again: “Are you participating?”

Shu Chi hummed an affirmative.

She didn’t want to, but was being forced by Jing Yuqi to join.

Ding Ya thought of Shen Mu’s request and asked: “My classmate wants to play too. Can she join?”

She added: “You’ve met her before.”

Shu Chi: “The one from last time?”

Ding Ya sent a nodding emoji.

The Hot Spring Manor was huge. This time, their group was naturally not the only one there. Given it was around New Year’s time, there were also quite a few other tourists.

Jing Yuqi had directly booked a separate annex, separated from the tourists, but the annex was behind the manor, requiring walking through some public areas that regular tourists accessed.

After getting off the bus, they were greeted by Shu Chi and the contact person Ding Ya had met before.

Ding Ya walked over very naturally. Ying Qixin didn’t think much of it; Ding Ya was generally quite sociable.

The contact person led the way ahead. Ding Ya chatted idly with Shu Chi as they gradually drifted to the back of the group.

Ding Ya: “I didn’t expect you to participate in team building.”

Shu Chi was wearing just a solid-colored sweater, very loose. But she didn’t need to show off her figure; you could tell her waist was slim and her legs long, just on the lean side.

“If I didn’t come, Jing Yuqi would scold me.”

Her voice even held a hint of grievance. Ding Ya laughed. “You’re that afraid of her?”

Shu Chi shook her head. “Not fear.”

There was a question Ding Ya had wanted to ask for a long time. “All these years, if it weren’t for that online wife of yours, do you think you could have ever liked Boss Jing?”

They were crossing the main hall. Shu Chi’s eyes held surprise. “Why would I like her?”

Ding Ya counted off on her fingers: “She’s beautiful, has a great figure, very sharp-witted…”

Shu Chi interrupted her bluntly: “I don’t like her.”

Ding Ya laughed. She raised her eyes to look at Shu Chi. “Your gaze is so fierce.”

Shu Chi instinctively wanted to touch the scar on her face, but Ding Ya, as if no one else was around, tugged her sleeve. “But it’s okay. I know it’s just how you look…”

“Ding Ya?”

A man’s voice interjected.

Shu Chi subconsciously looked over. At the corner ahead stood a man, looking around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, his gaze fixed on Ding Ya.

Ding Ya: “You are…?”

The man seemed somewhat speechless. He glanced at the tall woman beside Ding Ya, walked over to Ding Ya, and said, “Seriously? We broke up, but we’re still classmates. How could you forget me?”