Chapter 33 Part 2

Impossible.

Xu Qingqing refused to believe it.

But facts were facts.

Six years.

Shi Sui was still obsessed.

It made Xu Qingqing feel like a joke. She gripped the papers on her desk, ripping them in half with a tear, then crumpled them and buzzed her assistant to prep a committee meeting.

Far away in Shangjing, Shi Sui already knew.

This was blowing up.

She looked down at the signed postcard. Jiang Nuan said, “Eight hundred minimum—no less.”

Shi Sui turned and wired her a thousand.

Jiang Nuan’s heart leaped—scheming how to get Jiang Ruoning to sign more next time. A knock sounded at the office door. The secretary’s voice: “President Shi.”

Shi Sui glanced at Jiang Nuan, who retreated to the desk, went to the door, and opened it. “What is it?”

The secretary said, “Director Xu’s called a committee meeting.”

Jiang Nuan asked, “When?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

Jiang Nuan turned to Shi Sui, who nodded. “Got it.”

She shut the door and faced Shi Sui. “You knew this was coming?”

Shi Sui knew her temper, knew she couldn’t sit still. “Guessed.”

Jiang Nuan said: “Don’t say I didn’t warn you—there are still people on the committee siding with her.”

Moreover, Xu Qingqing was currently a major shareholder of Fuli, which meant she was also less’s major shareholder. If she really insisted on not using Jiang Ruoning, Shi Sui might not be able to keep her position. Shi Sui understood the web of interests involved, but she understood even better: “No one will go against money.”

Seeing the calculating look on her face, Jiang Nuan couldn’t help but feel curious.

But she was even more curious about Shi Sui and Jiang Ruoning’s romance, and couldn’t resist whispering: “You two got together in high school?”

Shi Sui looked at her and nodded after a moment.

Jiang Nuan said: “Puppy love!”

Shi Sui said: “Not really. We were about to graduate by then.”

Jiang Nuan laughed: “Still puppy love. I never would have guessed you’d be the type for that.”

Shi Sui finally looked up at her and said: “Then you probably wouldn’t guess that you’re working overtime tonight.”

Jiang Nuan’s smile froze on her face as her shoulders slumped: “OK, OK, no more questions.” She spread her hands: “But having said that…”

Shi Sui’s phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen—an unfamiliar number.

She answered.

Qu Lele had originally been very nervous. After chatting with Jiang Ruoning last night, she wasn’t entirely sure about her decision and had wanted to ask Qin Zheng’s opinion. But after lunch, she got a call from Jiang Ruoning saying she’d bring a friend over.

In an instant, Qu Lele wasn’t nervous anymore.

She called Shi Sui directly.

Righteously confident.

The number was from the business card Shi Sui had left earlier, kept at the cash register. Qu Lele had held onto it without ever calling or messaging, unsure of what to say.

Truth be told, back then she and Shi Sui had a pretty good relationship, even though they weren’t classmates.

Qu Lele was a Shangjing local and Yun An’s university classmate. Yun An and Shi Sui had been high school classmates with close ties. Add in Jiang Ruoning the foodie, who came once a week, and over time, they naturally grew close. During holidays, Shi Sui would prepare little surprises for Jiang Ruoning, contacting her more frequently.

She could tell Shi Sui really liked Jiang Ruoning.

Cherishing her like a treasure in the palm of her hand.

So when she heard they’d broken up, Qu Lele didn’t believe it at all—thinking Qin Zheng was just joking with her. But Shi Sui had left just like that.

No warning, no further word.

Decisively gone.

As if she’d never existed.

But how could a person’s presence truly leave no trace just because they vanished?

They weren’t Jiang Ruoning—they hadn’t lost their memories. They remembered every moment with Shi Sui: her favorite flavors, the private rooms she often booked, the playful banter with Jiang Ruoning after arriving.

After every gathering, when everyone was drunk and slumped motionless in their chairs, they would all simultaneously glance toward the window.

That was Shi Sui’s usual seat.

They had always kept it open.

Later, Jiang Ruoning took a liking to that spot and would rush to claim it first at every meal.

No one ever fought her for it.

It had always been hers.

Qu Lele wiped the corner of her eye, which was damp.

She asked Shi Sui: “You free tonight?”

Shi Sui recognized the voice and asked: “Qu Lele?”

Qu Lele badly wanted to ask, You still remember my voice? But she held it back—it sounded too plaintive, like they’d once had some affair. She swallowed and said: “It’s me.”

Shi Sui asked: “You all having a gathering tonight?”

So sharp.

But she had no intention of telling Shi Sui that Jiang Ruoning was bringing a new friend.

She was still mad.

Even if she probably had no right to be.

Qu Lele said: “Yeah, dinner tonight. Coming?”

Shi Sui opened her mouth.

Qu Lele said: “Ruoning’s coming too.”

Shi Sui heard this, unsure how to react, and merely tugged lightly at the corner of her mouth.

When they were together, she and Jiang Ruoning often bickered—harmless little spats that Qin Zheng teasingly called their “special brand of flirtation.” Shi Sui had genuinely enjoyed it; she loved everything about Jiang Ruoning, including her willfulness and temper.

But there were times she got truly angry. Once, Jiang Ruoning had made plans to see a movie that morning. After lunch, Shi Sui dove into group assignments with back-to-back meetings, her phone on silent. Jiang Ruoning called over ten times and fired off a barrage of angry texts. When Shi Sui finally finished and saw them, one thought hit her:

The sky had fallen.

She called Jiang Ruoning back immediately—only to find herself blocked.

She turned to Qin Zheng for help, who said she had no idea and hadn’t seen Jiang Ruoning that afternoon.

She searched the cinema, the park where they often met—still no luck—when Qu Lele’s call came: “Jiang Ruoning’s here with me. Hurry over, hurry!”

That was back when she and Jiang Ruoning were fighting.

All their friends would tip her off.

Now, they’d probably want to kill her.

Shi Sui said: “Got it. What time tonight?”

Qu Lele: “Seven-thirty. If you’re busy…”

Shi Sui said softly: “I’ll come.”

Two words, and the call ended.

Qu Lele stared at her phone, then saved the number under Shi Sui’s name.

Should she tell Ruoning?

Jiang Ruoning was sitting in the coffee shop; Zou Nian had stepped out to take a call. Just earlier, leaving Zhou Man’s home, Zhou Man had looked at her with words on the tip of her tongue, apology in her eyes—definitely about Shi Sui.

No idea what Shi Sui had said to Sister Xiao Man.

Or to Xiao Guai.

No.

She already knew what she’d said to Xiao Guai.

That woman was shameless.

Spouting nonsense to a little kid.

If she could contact Shi Sui right now, she’d have torn into her already.

Jiang Ruoning was tapping her screen when a message popped up.

From Qu Lele.

Qu Lele: [Ruoning, Shi Sui’s coming tonight too.]

Come on, come on.

Come slap her, kick her, bite her…

Zou Nian returned to her side: “Ruoning.”

Jiang Ruoning looked up. Zou Nian was holding her bag, smiling faintly. Jiang Ruoning smiled back: “Call done?”

Zou Nian said: “A client inquiring.” She sat across from her, gesturing outside. The coffee shop had large transparent glass walls on both sides, with hanging plants outside bathed in sunlight—a nice view. “This place has real character.”

Jiang Ruoning wasn’t in the mood to admire it, but her gaze drifted to the plants and she agreed: “Very pretty.”

Zou Nian looked at her and said: “Suits you well.”

Jiang Ruoning snapped back: “Hm?”

Zou Nian took a sip of coffee and asked: “What time’s your dinner?”

Jiang Ruoning said: “Six-thirty. We’ll leave at five.”

She checked the time on her phone and spotted a message from Wu Jie. Tapping it: Wu Jie: [Saw less’s model list announcement?]

Jiang Ruoning hadn’t. She opened Weibo and saw she’d been @’d. It was less’s official post announcing the nine models for the upcoming shoot.

She was listed in the middle.

But @’d.

She was the first one.

Fans noticed: [Ningning collaborating with less?]

[Endorsing less?]

[C-position, Ningning! Amazing!]

[Heard less has a winter show end-of-year. Will Ningning be there? Miss her.]

Jiang Ruoning’s first half of the year had been packed with commercial gigs, few fan meets. After leaving Del, fans knew she’d been wronged and were waiting for her comeback. Seeing less treat her with such prominence, they started hyping it up. Jiang Ruoning watched less tags pile onto her name and pursed her lips.

She wasn’t thrilled.

But unsure how to tell Wu Jie, she sent a smiley: [Saw it.]

Wu Jie: [Heard President Shi dining with Ai Wen, worried she’d slot Du Youran into the shoot. Glad she didn’t—and they put you in C-position.]

The implication was clear.

Jiang Ruoning eyed her glee through the screen and typed: [Wu Jie…]

She hesitated.

Zou Nian called: “Ruoning.”

Jiang Ruoning looked up.

Zou Nian said: “Time to go.”

Jiang Ruoning glanced at the time in her phone’s upper corner, pocketed it. Zou Nian grabbed her bag first and stood by her side. Jiang Ruoning watched her crisp, efficient movements—ready and waiting. She ducked her head and murmured: “Zou Nian.”

The shop was quiet; Zou Nian heard and tilted her head slightly.

Jiang Ruoning said: “When we go to dinner later… can I hold your hand?”

Zou Nian looked at her.

Jiang Ruoning looked up too.

Their eyes met.

Zou Nian studied her expression. Jiang Ruoning wasn’t great at masking micro-expressions—today’s fidgeting and stiffness were obvious, this awkwardness included. Yet she’d asked anyway. Zou Nian suddenly got it and smiled: “Want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Fend off your suitors?”

She had so many admirers, after all.

One possibility that occurred to Zou Nian.

Jiang Ruoning hadn’t expected her perceptiveness, bit her lip, and smiled: “If it’s too much trouble…”

“No trouble.” Zou Nian extended her hand palm-up. “Let’s go.”

Jiang Ruoning stared at the proffered hand.

A palm pattern utterly unlike Shi Sui’s.