Chapter 6

The wind howled, rattling the window glass from time to time. Inside, it was utterly still — even the tick of the wall clock’s hands was distinctly audible.

Jiang Min was watching the revised video.

Overall it was much improved: the mismatched background music had all been fixed, the voices were clearer, the scene transitions smoother and more natural.

After noting a few more revision points, she shut down her computer.

Everything was silent.

She switched off the office lights, then the corridor’s, and headed downstairs — and saw a light still on.

The person still at the computer heard her footsteps and looked up, freezing for a moment at the sight of her. “President Jiang.”

Jiang Min walked over. “Not off yet? Had dinner?”

Lin Xuqing stood, blanked for a beat, then said, “I — I’m on a diet.”

“You? On a diet?” Jiang Min pinched her arm in passing. “What nonsense.”

Lin Xuqing seemed a little unused to it and stepped back half a pace. “Oh.”

Jiang Min watched her retreat, her hand hanging in midair, and gave the faintest curve of her lips.

Fair enough. That was rather boundary-crossing of her.

She withdrew her hand. “Go home and rest. I’ve finished the revised cut — just a few small details left. Tomorrow I’ll have Sisi handle them.”

Lin Xuqing shook her head. “You go first, President Jiang. I still have a few things on my hands.”

Jiang Min arched a brow. “It’s a job, not a life you owe me.”

Lin Xuqing pressed her lips together. “It’s not for the money anyway.”

Then for what?

But remembering that morning’s conversation, Jiang Min didn’t press. “Suit yourself.”

“Then — I’ll head back too.” Lin Xuqing tidied her desk quickly. “It’s hard to get a car this late.”

Jiang Min turned, glancing back at her. “Then let’s go. I’ll drive you. I’ll get the car; meet me at the entrance.”

By the time she pulled up, Lin Xuqing was waiting at the door. The car stopped, she opened the passenger door and got in.

Jiang Min watched her fasten her seatbelt. “Where to?”

Lin Xuqing, belt clicked, eyes forward: “Not far ahead. No need for the navigation — I know the way.”

“Living alone, or with roommates?”

“With a university classmate.”

“A university classmate?”

“Mm. Her name’s Tang Xiaoyu. You wouldn’t have met her.”

Jiang Min made an acknowledging sound and said nothing more.

The exchange had the shape of small talk, yet it was flat and direct, without a trace of concealment. It had been like this before, too — Lin Xuqing had always answered whatever she asked.

Only now, after so many years, the distance had grown all the same. Some questions, perhaps, were no longer hers to ask.

Lin Xuqing’s place really wasn’t far — ten-odd minutes by car.

Jiang Min parked and watched her enter the residential compound, waiting a while before driving off.

At this hour, in winter, the roads were nearly empty.

Halfway home, she stopped at an interminably long red light. Jiang Min braked, unlocked her screen, and called Jiang Xuezi.

Jiang Xuezi picked up quickly. “Didn’t you just message that you’d gotten off work? Home already?”

“No. On the road.”

“This late, it can’t be work you want to discuss. Let me guess… our Classmate Little Lin, by any chance?”

Jiang Min couldn’t help a small laugh. “She graduated years ago. Why do you still call her Classmate Little Lin?”

“No harm in it. After all these years, in my memory she’s still the same — that blue-and-white school uniform, tall and thin, the quiet type.”

Jiang Min was silent a moment. “These days I can’t read her anymore.”

Jiang Xuezi made a sound of acknowledgment. “Right? A few days ago I half-joked with her and said the same.”

“This morning I asked why she came to work here. She didn’t say. Tonight I gave her a ride home. She lives nearby.”

“Nearby…” Jiang Xuezi understood at once. “Aren’t all the compounds around there high-end?”

Jiang Min said nothing.

Jiang Xuezi went on. “You know, I thought this was the sort of thing you’d tell Ning Rou. After all, there’s a lot between you and Little Lin I was never told.”

Jiang Min felt an odd pang. “Ning Rou… With Ning Rou she’s very polite — politer than she is with you. Ning Rou wouldn’t understand.”

Jiang Xuezi said gently, “It’s late. Go home and rest.”

“Mm — light’s green.” Jiang Min pressed the accelerator. “You sleep early too.”

“Anything this weekend?”

“My mother’s coming. She set up a dinner with Auntie Wen and asked me along.”

Jiang Xuezi couldn’t hold back the jab. “Another ambush of a dinner? Has Auntie really not given up? Is this meal truly non-negotiable?”

Jiang Min shook her head. “I haven’t been home in over half a year. She gets bored alone and said she wanted to come see me. I couldn’t very well refuse.”

“Is Wen Jun going?”

“No idea. Last month he was still abroad.”

“A-Min,” Jiang Xuezi sighed softly, “honestly, I wish you’d stop thinking of everyone else first. Work, life, all of it. The more you carry for others, the heavier it gets.”

Jiang Min laughed. “I’m not half the saint you make me out to be. All right, hanging up.”

“Fine. Eyes on the road. Drive safe.”

…

Saturday. The snow had stopped and the sky was clear.

Jiang Min slept in at home during the day, and went out at the appointed hour in the evening.

The moment she saw Wen Jun at the restaurant, she couldn’t resist texting Jiang Xuezi: You called it.

Her Majesty the Empress Dowager claiming she wanted to see her was the cover story; arranging dinner between her and Wen Jun was the truth.

Jiang Xuezi replied at once: Knew it. Want me to come rescue you later?

Jiang Min replied: no need.

The two families were neighbors, and Wen Jun was two years younger than her. Was she really so timid she couldn’t even share one meal with him?

Wen Jun happened to set down his phone and look up just then. Seeing her, he smiled before saying a word. “Jiang the Busy Bee! Must be a year or two since I last saw you.”

Jiang Min set her bag aside. “Dr. Wen, you’re the busy one.”

“Could you not hang the ‘Doctor’ on every other sentence?” Wen Jun poured her water, smiling. “It ages me.”

Jiang Min laughed at that. “Fair. Go on being your flashy peacock self, then. Dressed so plain today — hardly like you.”

Wen Jun sighed. “My mother’s nagging, what can I say.”

“Right — where is my mom?”

“Auntie said they’d browse downstairs a bit first and come up to eat after.”

“Back in the country recently?”

“Yes. Exactly two weeks now.”

“Good timing — home for the New Year, then.”

They chatted in fits and starts.

The two families were neighbors; from primary school through high school they’d attended the same schools. For university, Wen Jun had gone abroad, while Jiang Min had attended Mingchuan University.

Having known each other this long, conversation came easily.

When the food arrived, Jiang Min checked the time and smiled faintly. “What kind of clothing shop keeps people out past dinnertime?”

Wen Jun laughed too. “Maybe they switched restaurants.”

Jiang Min made an acknowledging sound. She couldn’t be bothered to call her mother — it was, after all, only a matter of one meal.

But halfway through, her phone rang.

Somewhat surprised, she answered. “Little Lin? Something wrong?”

Lin Xuqing’s voice came through: “About that project — I have an idea I’d like to run by you.”

Her voice was full of expectation.

This one really was a workaholic.

“It’s noisy on my end. I’m at dinner. I’ll call you back later.”

“All right. Whenever you’re free.”

Wen Jun, sitting across from her, asked curiously, “Little Lin? Lin Xuqing?”

On the other end, Lin Xuqing had clearly heard his voice too, and asked, “Who’s with you?”

The two did know each other, after all — and with her asked point-blank, Jiang Min had little choice but to hand the phone to Wen Jun.

Wen Jun said, smiling, “Little Lin, long time no see. It’s Wen Jun.”

Lin Xuqing: “Hello.”

Wen Jun said, half teasing, “Classmate Little Lin’s temper has improved, hasn’t it? Back in the day, hearing my voice was grounds for hanging up on the spot.”

Before Lin Xuqing could say anything, Jiang Min’s hand came out flat. “Phone.”

Wen Jun: “Hey, hey — we’ve barely said two words. What’s the rush?”

Jiang Min’s brow furrowed. “Give it.”

Wen Jun sighed and handed it back.

Jiang Min resumed. “Lin Xuqing…”

The person on the other end seemed to have no wish to say more — only told her to carry on with her evening, and hung up.

Jiang Min set the phone down and looked at Wen Jun. “No teasing her. Ever.”

Wen Jun was baffled. “Tease her how? I said like three sentences.”

Jiang Min: “Quiet.”

Wen Jun spread his hands. “Fine, fine.”

Jiang Min picked up her bag. “I’m done eating. Let’s go.”

Wen Jun hurried to pay the bill, and watching her walk off so fast, couldn’t help shaking his head.

Since when did she anger this easily?

Walking out, Jiang Min messaged Lin Xuqing: “Ignore Wen Jun.”

No reply came.

In truth, Lin Xuqing had never once said she disliked Wen Jun. But Jiang Min could sense it — she didn’t want to speak with him.

She remembered one birthday. Work had been busy, and she hadn’t planned to celebrate — but at quitting time, her mother Pei Ruyi called out of the blue: the Wen family was in Mingchuan, Ning Rou was invited too, they would all celebrate her birthday together.

She’d assumed a simple dinner. Instead, Wen Jun had booked a very high-end private-kitchen restaurant. The meal dragged on and on; both families were close, and Wen Jun’s mother was effusively warm. Only after dinner and cake did they emerge from the restaurant — it was already nine at night.

Out of respect for the elders’ kindness, Jiang Min had toasted at the table, and came out with a light buzz, standing in the cool wind at the door.

Summer rain arrives the moment it pleases. A great gust swept through, and raindrops came hammering down, already a downpour.

Ning Rou opened an umbrella, laughing as she scolded Wen Jun: “Brother Little Wen, you really are thoughtless.”

The elders hurriedly passed an umbrella over for Wen Jun to hold — though in the process he stepped on someone’s foot, snagged someone’s clothing, a whole flustered scramble, and somehow all the merrier for it.

Jiang Min was tonight’s birthday girl, its sole protagonist — and perhaps it was the alcohol’s dullness, the sense of remove — but she simply stood to one side, a smile on her lips, quietly watching everyone talk.

Until her eye caught Lin Xuqing, standing at the edge of the road.

In rain this heavy, Lin Xuqing had no umbrella. Her thin frame looked spare and slight; her top, washed to a faded white, was soaked through, clinging to her body; her black hair hung heavy with rain, dripping.

She didn’t know why Lin Xuqing was here.

But she guessed Lin Xuqing had come looking for her, and took a step forward before Ning Rou caught her arm. “Sister A-Min, it’s raining. You’ll get soaked.”

Just that one delay — and when Jiang Min looked up again, Lin Xuqing was already crossing the road, quickly reaching the far side.

Cars came and went, and she was gone from view.

Why Lin Xuqing had been there that day — Jiang Min had asked, more than once. The answer was always the same: just passing by.

No matter how many times she asked, the answer never changed.

But all these years on, she still remembered that day.

They had been laughing and chattering, bright and bustling.

Only Lin Xuqing had stood at the roadside in the rain, eyes ink-black, silent and stubborn.

Like a puppy soaked through to the bone, with nowhere left to shelter from the rain.