Chapter 24 Part 2

Ning Rou understood, and stepped forward.

“Ning Rou, this is President Jian.”

“President Jian, it’s an honor.” Ning Rou extended her hand first.

Jian Yanping smiled as she looked at her and took her hand. “Hello.”

“You two chat. I won’t intrude.”

After the brief greeting, Jian Yanping released her hand and walked on.

She hadn’t gone more than a few steps before she turned back.

“Miss Ning, I saw a qipao a few days ago that would suit you perfectly. I’ll send it to you.”

“…Hm?”

Ning Rou froze, watching her departing figure, and asked, puzzled, “Sister Jiang Min, didn’t you say before that this President Jian was cold and aloof?”

“It’s fine. She’s always been fond of qipao and opera—probably just an offhand remark. Don’t read into it. Let’s go.”

“What do you want for lunch?”

“Your pick.”

Ning Rou chose a Western restaurant with tasteful decor, a pleasant atmosphere, and few patrons—perfect for talking.

“About that business with Zhao Yan coming to find you last week—how did it turn out?”

“I called Grandpa Ning. He told me Zhao Yan was drunk, that otherwise he’d never have behaved that way. He also said Grandpa Zhao had already given Zhao Yan a scolding—and whipped him twice.”

“That’s it?”

“Mm. That’s it.”

Jiang Min drew a deep breath, suppressing her emotions. “Can’t this engagement of yours be called off?”

Ning Rou said nothing, the rims of her eyes slowly reddening.

The engagement had been settled long ago. Her father was a playboy through and through, never home, and certainly never concerned himself with her. After her mother passed away, at a New Year’s dinner, Grandpa Ning and his old war comrade had gotten happily drunk, and the two patriarchs had simply settled the marriage for their grandchildren on the spot.

In those years, Zhao Yan had been idling abroad, chasing flowers and flings without end, swearing up and down he’d never marry, and Ning Rou had treated the so-called engagement as if it didn’t exist. Only in the last two years had Young Master Zhao somehow settled down and proposed honoring the marriage contract.

Seeing her on the verge of tears, Jiang Min knew her own tone had been too sharp just now. Ning Rou was gentle by nature and indecisive, always deferring to her family at every turn—defying her elders was simply impossible for her, so she had always resorted to passive avoidance. Otherwise, this damned engagement could never have dragged on until now.

She restrained her temper and said patiently, “New Year is almost here. Talk to your family. If that doesn’t work, I’ll go speak with Grandpa Ning myself about how bad things got last time.”

Ning Rou choked up for a moment, then nodded. “All right.”

“Never mind. Let’s eat. The steak’s getting cold.”

“Mm. Okay.” Ning Rou seemed to remember something, and in a half-joking tone said, “Last Friday you said you’d come see me if you finished up in time. I waited for you forever, and you never came, never even said a word.”

“Last Friday…” Jiang Min’s thoughts drifted back to that night, and she went a little distant.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” Jiang Min lowered her head, smiling without letting it show. “Work ran too late that day, and I forgot to give you a heads-up. I’m sorry.”

She wore an air of perfect calm, making no mention whatsoever of the high fever that night.

“Sister Little Lin, not heading home yet?”

“You all go ahead. I’ve still got some things to do.”

“All right, but don’t stay too late.”

Lin Xuqing gave a murmur of acknowledgment, tilting her head as she stared at her monitor, thinking through how to fix a transition between two shots.

Someone rapped on the glass partition in front of her workstation.

Without looking up, she said, “You all go ahead, don’t mind me.”

But the person wouldn’t leave—standing there motionless, then bending slightly forward, a shadow falling across her.

Lin Xuqing, displeased, frowned and said coldly, “You’re blocking my light.”

“My, Photographer Lin, how fierce.”

A rather teasing voice sounded—a voice she knew well, though she’d rarely heard it in that tone.

Lin Xuqing looked up, saw Jiang Min, and immediately pushed back her chair and stood. “You’re back this late?”

“That’s right.” Jiang Min glanced around. “Just you left?”

“Nobody has much work on their hands right now. Mostly Sisi and I are doing the post-production edits.”

“You weren’t even on the post team originally, and now you’re handling both shooting and post.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s just work.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? You’re doing two jobs on one salary.”

“That’s only because I’m covering for—” Lin Xuqing’s voice trailed off, and she glanced away, a little embarrassed. “Sister Xuezi said you were out all day today, that you weren’t coming back.”

Jiang Min didn’t catch that first half of the sentence, and didn’t press. “There’s a report I need to revise when I got back.”

“The one for President Jian?”

“Mm. You knew about that too?”

“Sister Xuezi told me.”

“How does she tell you everything?”

Jiang Min tossed out the remark casually, then asked, “Dinner? Let’s eat something together.”

Lin Xuqing answered readily. “Whatever you want, I’ll order.”

“Up to you, I’m not very hungry. I’ll head upstairs first. Call me when the food arrives.”

“Okay.”

Lin Xuqing watched her figure climb the stairs, and at the thought that they’d be eating together soon, she felt almost lightheaded.

She messaged Mi Wei, asking which restaurants nearby were good.

Mi Wei replied instantly, firing off a whole barrage of recommendations for her to choose from.

Her fingertips hovered over the screen for a few seconds before she typed.

She asked: What does Sister Jiang Min like to eat?

Several messages popped up in quick succession:

“Senior Sister loves that spicy beef place near the office park~”

“Are you two working overtime? Didn’t she go out today?”

“Whoa~ did you two make up?”

“Hold on… what did you just call her? Sister?“

“Weird, why am I kind of shipping this?”

Lin Xuqing’s ears went red. She replied: Nonsense.

She didn’t reply to any of the messages after that.

…

At six forty, Jiang Min came downstairs to photocopy some documents.

Lin Xuqing came in carrying takeout boxes. “Perfect timing for dinner.”

“That was fast.” Jiang Min set down the files. “Come eat over here.”

When the lids came off, the dishes were familiar ones.

Curious, Jiang Min asked, “What made you order from this place?”

“Oh, Mi Wei said this was your favorite, so she recommended it to me.”

“I see.”

Jiang Min lowered her head and smiled.

This little liar.

Mi Wei didn’t even like beef at all.

Lin Xuqing watched her eat with such appetite, idly poking at her own portion with her chopsticks. She couldn’t handle much spice and had ordered roast chicken—never expecting it to come with chili too.

One bite in, and beads of sweat broke out on her forehead.

“This place is pretty heavy on the flavor. Can you handle it?”

“It’s fine. It’s delicious.”

Lin Xuqing nodded and kept eating as if nothing were wrong.

Every so often, she’d sneak a tissue up to dab the sweat at her temple.

Jiang Min thought back over the day’s work. “I reported the general direction of next year’s work to President Jian today. She didn’t object, but she wants me to stake my reputation on delivering results this year.”

Lin Xuqing listened carefully all the way through before asking, “What direction?”

“We used to get a lot of government charity project funding, but over the past two years those budgets have been cut in half, and the restrictions on our topics keep piling up. And I don’t want to shoot male-centered narratives anymore. There’s no point. I want to shoot more of what I actually want to shoot.”

“May I offer my opinion?”

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve looked at Lingyin’s past work. The quality is high, but the topics are scattered—rural girls forced out of school, environmental pollution, the daily lives of delivery workers, and now this homeless repatriation project. Some topics are grand-scale narratives; others focus on micro-level individuals. Without finding your own positioning and style, it’s very hard to build a brand that’s truly yours.”

“That’s true. Which also means making trade-offs.”

“Then follow your own heart. Focus on doing what you want to do. Don’t shackle yourself. Since you don’t want to do official topics anymore, concentrate on independent media—personalized topics.”

Jiang Min gazed at Lin Xuqing.

She suddenly realized that when it came to work, this person wasn’t silent at all—on the contrary, she had plenty of her own ideas, her thoughts flowing, her logic razor-sharp.

In the entire organization, apart from Xuezi and You Hui, Jiang Min doubted she could find anyone else who could talk with her about all this.

“I’ve hinted at my thinking before, and quite a few colleagues worry—what if we can’t do it well?”

“If you can’t do it well, then keep doing it. Don’t fear a bad outcome. Don’t regret the time and effort spent. Don’t wallow in self-congratulation. Stay consistent, and keep moving forward.”

Lin Xuqing’s expression was calm, her gaze clear as water;

gentle as grass and trees, yet carrying an unyielding tenacity.

Looking at her, Jiang Min suddenly smiled and sighed. “That reminds me of the first time I saw you.”

Not quite the same as now—and yet, somehow, never changed at all.

“Hm? What?” Lin Xuqing couldn’t keep up with the sudden topic change, and had no idea what she meant.

“All right, hurry and eat. It’s getting cold.”

“…Oh. All right.”

Jiang Min didn’t continue the conversation.

After dinner, she went back to her office and kept working.

At ten past eight, she heard movement at the door. Looking up, she saw Lin Xuqing standing outside, as if wanting to come in but afraid of disturbing her.

“Haven’t left yet?”

“Just about to. Aren’t you leaving?”

“I’m not finished yet. You go on back.”

“Oh…”

Seeing her standing in the doorway, clearly reluctant to leave, Jiang Min found it a little amusing and simply said, “Come here.”

Lin Xuqing obediently came in and walked to her side.

“What did you need?”

“I was just leaving, and at the park gate I saw…” Looking somewhat embarrassed, Lin Xuqing set a bag of sugar-roasted chestnuts down on Jiang Min’s desk.

Warm, fragrant sugar-roasted chestnuts—the sweet smell drifted through the bag.

Jiang Min had seen them before when leaving work—an older woman who pushed a little cart at the park gate selling chestnuts in the evenings.

She deliberately drew out her tone. “Eating this late at night? Trying to make me gain weight?”

Lin Xuqing squeezed out, with some difficulty, “Gaining a little weight… isn’t entirely impossible…”

Jiang Min raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

Lin Xuqing corrected herself at once. “…You won’t gain weight.”

Jiang Min couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Fine, then. I’ll do you the honor of eating one.”

Lin Xuqing’s eyes lit up. “Okay. Just don’t eat too many—they’re easy to overeat. And head home early.”

“Mm, got it.”

“I’ll head back now.”

“Get home safe.”

Listening to the sound of her footsteps going down the stairs, Jiang Min picked up the little bag of sugar-roasted chestnuts and examined it. She touched it—still warm.

Lin Xuqing, that person—she could be so cold and aloof with everyone else. Clearly a clever woman, yet around her, moments of inexplicable clumsiness kept surfacing.

It even made Jiang Min wonder whether the person who’d talked work with her downstairs just now could really have been her.

But it was nice, all the same.

All this time since she’d returned, Classmate Little Lin had always been so careful, keeping her at arm’s length—polite and distant.

Now, at least, she occasionally let her antennae bend a little, and knew to be kind to her.