“Next weekend is Spring Festival. I know that starting next week, everyone will be taking leave and heading home one after another, so I’ve scheduled our final regular meeting of the year for today, Friday.”
“I’ve read all of your annual work summaries. After the new year, I’ll adjust the division of labor according to the new work plan.”
“As for the general direction—I’ve already discussed it with the team leaders, but I might as well share it with everyone now. We’ll be scaling back fixed-theme project collaborations and shooting a more diverse range of subjects. Additionally, we’ll be putting more energy into our independent media channels.”
“The last project is essentially complete, and payment should come through after the new year. So as for performance bonuses—rest easy, and have a good New Year.”
Jian Ming’s face was dark as a storm cloud. “President Jiang has worked hard. That project payment wasn’t easy to come by, was it?”
Jiang Min answered his barb with a smile. “Indeed. And we have Team Leader Jian to thank—landing this project in the first place was your crowning achievement.”
On the surface, her words sounded lovely, but everyone knew perfectly well what had happened two days ago, and understood exactly what she was getting at.
Jian Ming gave a cold snort. “Just good luck, that’s all. Though the two projects I was planning to negotiate fell through. We can barely make payroll this year—I’d say next year will be even harder. After all, Jian Group isn’t a charity. They won’t keep feeding a bunch of idle mouths.”
His words were blunt enough to sink everyone’s hearts.
Lingyin’s operations were already struggling badly this year. And word had it Jian Ming had made a colossal fool of himself two days ago—he was, after all, one of the Jian family. Who knew whether the support from Jian Group might be affected…
And now Jiang Min was talking about sweeping reforms, as if charging ahead full steam. Who knew whether Lingyin could even survive to see next year…
Charitable organizations had it harder and harder these days: either depend entirely on government funding and work for the state, or go fully commercial. Those caught in between rarely lasted long.
Jiang Min noted everyone’s expressions and exchanged a glance with Jiang Xuezi.
Jiang Xuezi smiled sweetly. “Team Leader Jian worries so much on our behalf! Here I am fretting over money every month, and since Team Leader Jian is so capable, why don’t you manage the finances from now on?”
Jian Ming’s mouth twitched. “Everyone has their role. What do I know about managing money?”
Jiang Xuezi’s words were velvet over steel. “Well then, since Team Leader Jian doesn’t want to manage the money, perhaps stop worrying so much about it.”
“Post-new-year matters can wait until after the new year. Anyone taking leave, file it through the OA system.”
“Meeting dismissed.”
Jiang Min and Jiang Xuezi walked out together, talking in low voices.
“Jian Ming used to at least put on a show. Now he doesn’t even bother pretending.”
“Can’t keep up the act? Perfect—we can barely stand him anymore either.”
“True. Ever since Little Lin arrived, his seat as shooting team leader has gotten shakier and shakier.”
“Still, we can’t be too hasty. Have you asked Jian Yanping’s side yet?”
“Not yet. No good opening these last couple of times. President Jian thinks too deeply—she’s hard to probe. After the new year, then.”
“All right, only a few days until the holiday. Let’s not dwell on these headaches.”
Jiang Xuezi’s tone turned light. “We’re going out to play tomorrow.”
Jiang Min smiled. “We are.”
Tang Xiaoyu had sent over the location pin yesterday, saying everything was arranged—two days of fun there, one night’s stay.
On top of that, she’d warmly invited Jiang Xuezi and Mi Wei to come along too, saying a bigger crowd made for livelier meals.
Mi Wei loved to play and agreed at once; Jiang Xuezi happily accepted as well.
Jiang Min said, “Come to think of it, why did you agree to go? Didn’t you used to say you skied all the time back then and have no interest in it now?”
Jiang Xuezi’s eyes curved. “To keep you company.”
“Keep me company? There’s a whole group of us. If you don’t want to go, don’t force yourself.”
“I’m going to keep you company either way. What’s wrong with keeping you company?”
“Fine, fine, fine. Yes, yes, yes. The Head Housekeeper is the best in the whole world. Whatever the Head Housekeeper says goes.”
“That’s right. As long as you know it.”
Early Saturday morning.
Jiang Min saw a new message on her phone.
LXQ: Have you left yet?
They’d agreed to meet at eleven for lunch. It was only eight o’clock, and the drive was barely two hours. What was the hurry?
Jiang Min didn’t feel like replying—but she did feel an odd urge to change the contact name she’d saved for her. She thought about it for a while, couldn’t decide what to change it to, and simply left it alone.
She had all her ski gear already; it had just been several years since she’d last gone. After breakfast, she finished packing and left right at nine—timing it perfectly.
She’d barely started the car when a WeChat call came in from Tang Xiaoyu.
“Sister Jiang Min, are you on your way?”
“What’s wrong? Just left.”
“Oh… Lin Xuqing messaged you this morning, and you didn’t reply, so she thought you—”
“Thought what? Overslept?”
“Thought you weren’t coming.”
Jiang Min was puzzled. “We agreed on it. Why would I just not show up without a word?”
Messaging so early, then calling to check again—like they were terrified she’d change her mind at the last minute.
“Yes, yes, my fault for being impatient. Drive safely. See you there.”
After hanging up, Tang Xiaoyu turned to lodge her complaint against Lin Xuqing.
“You, of all people. Half the night you wouldn’t sleep, then first thing this morning you wake me up—we were out the door before eight, all this nonsense about being afraid of traffic.”
“You send a message, she doesn’t reply, and then you’re too embarrassed to ask again, so you make me call her.”
“The way I see it, this road won’t have any traffic. We’ll probably get there by ten and then just stand around waiting.”
Under normal circumstances, Lin Xuqing would absolutely have argued back. But today she was in the wrong, so all she could offer was an apology. “Sorry for waking you. Let me drive—you nap for a bit?”
“Forget it, no napping.” Tang Xiaoyu, mid-sentence, started laughing too. “Soon I’ll get to see You Hui-jiejie.”
Lin Xuqing looked out the window, the corners of her eyes curving gently.
Yes… soon she would see her again.
Just before ten, they arrived right on time.
Eldest Miss Tang’s friend wasn’t there, but had specially assigned a staff member to receive them. With time to spare, they went to look at the rooms they’d be staying in that night.
Only upon seeing it did they realize: they’d been given an entire two-story standalone villa. The ground floor was huge, with an enormous dining table, and it came with its own private hot spring pool.
Lin Xuqing asked, “How do we settle the bill for this?”
“Don’t you dare!” Tang Xiaoyu was helpless against her. “I already paid for the tickets and lodging—I sent you all the screenshots to split, remember? This is a bonus from my friend, and he didn’t charge me extra. Am I supposed to charge you extra on top of that?”
“Besides, I’m the one who invited everyone out. I’m hosting. Stop being so polite with me, will you?”
Lin Xuqing felt somewhat helpless.
She knew Tang Xiaoyu’s friends were either rich or noble—this was complimentary VIP treatment. This kind of favor genuinely couldn’t be priced.
Upstairs there happened to be exactly six rooms. The young woman receiving them apologized, a little sheepishly, “Sorry, the rooms got booked out for year-end. Only twin rooms left.”
Tang Xiaoyu waved a hand. “No big deal. Go on, back to work—we’ll just drop our luggage.”
The room decor was actually quite plain—it didn’t look expensive at all.
Lin Xuqing took the room at the very end. She packed her things in silence while Tang Xiaoyu watched her, and couldn’t help sighing.
She knew this person’s pride was ferociously strong—so strong it barely allowed anyone to help her at all.
Tang Xiaoyu remembered their school days. Lin Xuqing had kept a low profile at school, but no matter how low, the people around her could roughly sense her family was well-off.
Still, she was no foolish, money-flushing fool, and she had no habit of treating people to meals. The one and only time was when she saw Lin Xuqing eating plain boiled noodles in the dorm in the morning—and plain boiled noodles again at night. She couldn’t stand it, bought an extra portion of food, and brought it to Lin Xuqing’s dorm.
Lin Xuqing had said coldly, “I don’t want it. Do this again, and don’t ever come asking me to help you with experiments again.”
Tang Xiaoyu had been raised in the lap of luxury, doted on by everyone. No one had ever spoken to her like that, treating her kindness like donkey liver and lungs. She’d secretly sworn never to speak to that creature again—but a few days later, after she’d gone and shattered a test tube in the lab, she had no choice but to slink back to Lin Xuqing.
Lin Xuqing seemed to have no memory whatsoever of the last unpleasantness—still calm and composed, walking her through the experimental steps, patiently teaching her, not rushing even past the lunch hour.
Tang Xiaoyu had sighed, and let it go.
The first time Lin Xuqing taught her an experiment was in the first semester of senior year. Autumn.
That day, she couldn’t get her experiment to work, and she’d sat alone in the lab crying. She’d assumed everyone had left—when out of nowhere appeared a slender, tall girl.
She hastily wiped her tears, unwilling to lose face in front of a stranger.
To her surprise, the girl asked her directly: “What are you crying about?”
“The experiment won’t work.”
“Stop crying. I’ll teach you.”
Lin Xuqing’s voice had carried not a ripple of inflection. Tang Xiaoyu had honestly wondered if she was a robot. But afterward, that robot helped her finish her experiments, time after time.
At graduation, she’d asked Lin Xuqing why she’d helped her.
The girl who was always so cold and quiet had, in that moment, shown a flicker of emotion. She smiled, but her eyes looked like they were crying. “Someone once helped me, so very much, for so very long.”
“Her kindness—I can never repay it.”
“I should say thank you too. Otherwise, in that stretch of time, I… I was just drifting. Having something to do, someone to talk to—it was good.”
Tang Xiaoyu would never forget the look on her face as she said it—half smile, half tears.
And she would never forget the kindness of Lin Xuqing reaching out to help her first. So no matter when, no matter what, she would always stand on her side.
“What are you thinking about?”
Lin Xuqing had finished unpacking, and seeing her dazed, asked her.
“Nothing.” Tang Xiaoyu came back to herself, and seeing Lin Xuqing speak to her first, added, “I thought the lodging here was too nice and you’d be upset.”
“No. It doesn’t seem too over the top, really.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve changed a little. You’ve gotten better at accepting other people’s kindness.”
“Maybe. Let’s go downstairs.”
“Sure. They should be arriving soon.”
Jiang Min got out of the car and ran right into You Hui. “And here I thought I’d be first.”
“I figured Little Yu would definitely be earliest. She asked me ages ago whether I’d set off yet.”
“Oh, she asked you too, huh.”
“Wow! Everyone’s here!”
Tang Xiaoyu whooped and came bounding down the stairs in a whirlwind. She sweet-talked her greetings to everyone in turn, and finally planted herself in front of You Hui, saying nothing at all—just beaming up at her.
You Hui, stared at, felt a little embarrassed.
This girl… why did she always keep drifting closer and closer to her?
“How about everyone drops their luggage and we eat? It’s about that time anyway.”
“Sure. What are we eating?”
“Hot pot!”
Mi Wei let out a whoop of firm, unwavering support.
Jiang Min ordered a yuanyang pot—half fiery red chili oil, half mild mushroom broth.
She sat down beside Jiang Xuezi; the seat on her other side was still empty. Just as Mi Wei was about to take it, Lin Xuqing stepped forward and sat down first.
Mi Wei clicked her tongue twice in her head.
Women. So fickle. Last time she wouldn’t sit next to Senior Sister for anything, and now she’s scrambling to plop right down?
Jiang Min also raised an eyebrow, glancing at Lin Xuqing.
Lin Xuqing turned her head and gave her a small smile, asking first, “Cola or orange juice?”
“Cola, I guess.”
Jiang Min read a note of conciliation in her eyes. That day, when Lin Xuqing had inexplicably offered to apologize, Jiang Min had been a little angry, and hadn’t paid her much attention these past two days.
Lin Xuqing acknowledged with a soft “okay,” poured her a glass of cola, and only then went around filling everyone else’s cups.
“Meat’s ready to cook! Everybody make way!”
“Yes, yes, yes! Meat, meat!”
The fresh beef was sliced paper-thin; a brief swish in the red-oil pot and it was cooked through, the spicy fragrance billowing up, whetting everyone’s appetite.
“Delicious! So tender, so fragrant!”
“Another plate! Cook another plate!”
Lin Xuqing’s gaze stayed locked on the mushroom broth side. She didn’t touch the freshly cooked beef.
Jiang Min shot her a look.
Just as expected—this person really couldn’t handle spice.
After the hot pot, Mi Wei patted her rounded little belly and, with utter shamelessness, declared herself Eldest Miss Tang’s follower for life.
“Feels like everyone ate a bit too much. Want to walk it off before we start skiing?”
“Sure. I was just thinking I want to go take photos.”
Jiang Xuezi handed her phone to Jiang Min. “Take some for me with mine, would you?”
She was purely an amateur, but she loved hiking, mountain climbing, and traveling. Her walls at home were covered in photos from her trips—she loved capturing moments like these.
Jiang Min agreed without hesitation. “No problem.”
Conscientious as ever, she set her own phone and bag off to the side.
You Hui started teaching Mi Wei and Tang Xiaoyu how to put on their ski suits, explaining some key technical points of skiing.
Eldest Miss Tang—who could ski perfectly well but was pretending she couldn’t—listened for a while, then drifted back over to Lin Xuqing. “What are you looking at?”
Lin Xuqing didn’t even turn her head, didn’t spare her a glance. “Nothing.”
“I don’t even need you to tell me what you’re looking at.”
“Rein it in a little, sister. You’ve been staring at her for a solid half hour!”
Not far away, Jiang Min was still taking photos for Jiang Xuezi.
Perhaps because they were outdoors, she was far more relaxed than usual—her smile warm and radiant, her loosely curled long hair falling freely, focused and earnest as she framed each shot.
Lin Xuqing reluctantly pulled her gaze away.
“Didn’t you want You Hui-jie to teach you to ski?”
“I don’t want that lecture-theory style of teaching. Later, I want the hands-on, practical kind of teaching~”
Lin Xuqing, long accustomed to her endless repertoire of lines, was just about to go change into her ski suit when the phone on the table rang.
It was Jiang Min’s phone. The caller ID read: Wen Jun.
She picked it up and waved a hand. “Your call.”
Jiang Min didn’t move from where she stood, only turned halfway, calling over from a distance: “Who is it?”
“Wen Jun.”
“Him…” Jiang Min thought for a moment, then said, “Answer it for me. Tell them we’re out having fun right now, no time, I’ll get back to them later.”
Lin Xuqing nearly doubted her own ears—but she hadn’t misheard, because Jiang Min had already turned back around and resumed taking photos of Jiang Xuezi.
Even though her rational mind said this wasn’t appropriate, she pressed answer.
The voice on the other end came at once. “Jiang the Busy Bee! Finally answering the phone! It’s Saturday—you’re home, right? My mother got some things for you, asked me to bring them over.”
Lin Xuqing paused several seconds before saying, “Sister Jiang Min can’t take the call right now. She asked me to answer.”
“Who is this? Little Lin?”
“Mm, it’s me. We’re out skiing today. Won’t be back home for a few days.”
“Then, if it’s convenient for her—”
“It’s not convenient,” Lin Xuqing cut him off softly, her tone lifting slightly. “She’s calling me over. Goodbye.”
The moment she hung up, Tang Xiaoyu couldn’t hold it in. “Green Tea Sister, greetings.”
Lin Xuqing: “?”
“HAHAHA, you just killed me.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know. You were so green-tea just now—’she’s calling me over,’ and and and—” Tang Xiaoyu pinched her voice into falsetto, “‘We’re out skiing today, won’t be back home for a few days~’ Aiyah, ‘we‘—”
“Did I talk like that?”
“Hee hee, you know perfectly well~”
Lin Xuqing shot her an irritated glare; Eldest Miss Tang ignored it completely and carried on with her performance.
Not far away, Jiang Min watched the two of them laughing together and shook her head with a smile. “If she doesn’t like Wen Jun, she just doesn’t. No need to make excuses for her.”
Jiang Xuezi’s smile turned sly. “You sure do spoil her.”
“Hurry up and pose. Where do you get all these words?” Jiang Min raised the camera, hiding her face behind it, and lowered her voice—almost as if talking to herself. “How is that spoiling her…”
