Chapter 24

The seats in the newly opened Japanese restaurant were full. Jian Shichu and Song Yi hadn’t reserved a private room, so they sat by the window. Jian Shichu had just arrived when the complaint call came right on her heels.

She was wearing earphones, listening to the other end describe the issue while swiping through the electronic menu to order.

Song Yi stood up and mouthed “going to the toilet” to her. Jian Shichu slowly closed her eyes to show she got it, while responding to the call at the same time.

“Got it, I understand. Now…” She’d just said that when a stream of nitpicky complaints started up on the other end.

She took a deep breath, her fingertips tapping nonstop at her brow. The shop hadn’t gotten a complaint in ages. A server had seated someone today and left a strand of hair on the chair, making the customer think the tearoom hadn’t been cleaned.

It wasn’t a big deal, but it wasn’t nothing either. The customer was unhappy, so it needed attention. The store manager was usually meticulous, but even she had her off moments.

The restaurant’s AC blasted cold air as the door curtain lifted, hitting An Ran in the face. She hadn’t lowered her hand yet, letting Wen Zhixu enter first. Wen Zhixu’s gaze met the server’s.

At the same time, Jian Shichu, seated by the window, turned to the side, placing her hand on the table as she continued listening to the nagging on the phone.

“Sorry, no seats available right now. You’ll have to take a number.”

Wen Zhixu turned to An Ran, asking her opinion.

An Ran asked, “Are you hungry? It’s peak time—everywhere’s got lines. Wanna wait a bit?”

“Sure, I’ll hit the bathroom.” Wen Zhixu agreed immediately. The server handed the finalized order to An Ran, then pointed Wen Zhixu toward the restroom.

The Japanese restaurant had warm, non-glaring lighting. Past the bar counter’s corner was the bathroom. With the crowd, she had to sidestep behind the high stools.

Jian Shichu glanced sideways. In a flash, she seemed to catch Wen Zhixu’s reflection in the glass. She turned toward the bar, her body instinctively standing up.

“How about this? I’ll give you 20% off this table today, plus a complimentary new dessert. Sorry about that—we’ll ramp up staff training for sure. Sound good?”

She circled around the server toward the bathroom, adjusting her earphones.

Meanwhile, Wen Zhixu had just rounded the corner. She was fishing in her side pocket for tissues when the invitation card caught her eye. She pinched it in her palm, fiddling with the wrapped paper inside.

She was suddenly bumped hard on the shoulder. Stunned, the invitation card slipped from her hand to the floor.

“Sorry.” Song Yi apologized.

She crouched and snatched it up first, glancing at it before handing it back while staring straight at Wen Zhixu.

Song Yi smiled. “What a coincidence.”

Wen Zhixu was in a white sun-protective jacket, her hair loosely half-up, stray strands adding a touch of refinement—like a candle in a snowy night.

The sound of shoes scraping the floor around them was especially loud.

Wen Zhixu looked at her. Song Yi wore gold-rimmed glasses that made her eyes seem soulful, her long hair tucked behind one ear like a piece of jade, elegant and peerless.

She exhaled in surprise. “Do we know each other?”

At the same time, her hand touched the card. Song Yi was about to speak when she spotted Jian Shichu approaching from behind Wen Zhixu. Her gaze shifted past Wen Zhixu to Jian Shichu.

“You don’t know me, but I know you.” With that, Song Yi tilted her head toward Jian Shichu and waved. “What brings you here?”

But Jian Shichu’s gaze had moved from Wen Zhixu’s back to Song Yi.

Wen Zhixu pocketed the invitation card and turned around. Her gaze lacked appeal, yet it drew Jian Shichu’s eyes to her too.

Jian Shichu’s clear eyes were too calm, almost contrived. Perhaps it was that night of lingering intimacy—she wasn’t as composed around Wen Zhixu as usual.

Their eyes met, like a prolonged drizzle pierced by a fleeting white rainbow. But it was just a moment, like bated breath resuming as someone approached.

Jian Shichu said nothing, just looking at her. Ripples stirred deep in her heart. She couldn’t seal away the past, no matter how many times she’d decided to.

Jian Shichu’s tone was flat. “Just checking it out.”

Wen Zhixu snapped back, pocketing the card.

Song Yi greeted her proactively. “Hi, Teacher Wen. I’m Song Yi. Do you remember…”

“I don’t! Sorry.” Wen Zhixu cut her off the moment she heard the name, her startled gaze flicking to Jian Shichu before vanishing in an instant.

She felt guilty. It had nothing to do with Jian Shichu, yet it felt like betrayal—like she’d cheated.

Song Yi’s brows furrowed slightly. The name on the card was crystal clear. Her company handled the drama crew’s marketing, so of course she knew Wen Zhixu.

And she’d first met Wen Zhixu years ago, when Wen Zhixu had adapted Ru Shi. They’d crossed paths at a marketing event banquet.

Everyone in the circle knew each other—it wasn’t big.

Wen Zhixu slowly shifted her gaze to Song Yi. The name made her hand tremble. She averted her eyes in panic, glancing unnaturally at Jian Shichu.

She left without looking back. As she went, she heard Song Yi say, “Sorry.”

She just shook her head faintly.

Jian Shichu watched Wen Zhixu leave, a sense of loss washing over her. She’d gained nothing, yet wanted to savor that moment’s atmosphere.

Song Yi’s eyes were calm as she watched Wen Zhixu go, noticing Jian Shichu’s mood sink. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Jian Shichu glanced toward the bathroom anyway.

Song Yi didn’t press, walking beside Jian Shichu.

Their window seat had a clear view of the entrance. By the time they returned, the appetizers had arrived. Song Yi spotted An Ran before even sitting.

Their eyes met, smiles surfacing as they recognized each other. The thick, quiet air took on the warmth of old friends reuniting.

An Ran stepped forward. “President Song.” She gave Jian Shichu a polite smile.

Song Yi didn’t sit. “What a coincidence. Here alone?”

“No, two of us.” An Ran smiled.

She and Song Yi had met half a year ago during an interview—her company had done a feature on Tengyu, and she’d interviewed Song Yi.

The industry was like the jianghu. After a few encounters, they’d gotten familiar. They bumped into each other at events. Reporters knowing execs like Song Yi wasn’t odd.

But they didn’t hang out much. The company focused on film marketing, dealing more with celebs. Entertainers and paparazzi were different camps.

“This place has been packed lately.” Song Yi scanned the room before meeting her eyes again. “Peak hours mean lines everywhere nearby.”

Song Yi turned to Jian Shichu, who was seated and transferring money to the Mid-Mountain Restaurant manager. Catching Song Yi’s look, she raised a brow with a ‘your call’ expression.

Truth was, Jian Shichu’s mind wasn’t there. Wen Zhixu gave her a weird feeling.

Friends had that unspoken sync. Song Yi continued, “We just sat down. Why don’t you and your friend join us? We can order more.”

An Ran waved it off. “No, no, too much trouble.”

Song Yi said, “No trouble. Peak time means waiting, and eating late isn’t good for the stomach.”

Just then, their number was called. The server cleared a table right where An Ran stood. They shared an awkward smile.

Wen Zhixu still wasn’t back. Their table was right next to Song Yi’s, separated only by the aisle.

Song Yi sat across from Jian Shichu, same row as An Ran.

“Thanks for that interview last time. I’ve been meaning to treat you—been swamped till now. Next time, just us.” Song Yi said across the aisle.

An Ran took the menu. “No need to be polite, President Song.” As she replied, she saw Wen Zhixu approaching and waved to signal her spot.

Wen Zhixu looked up and quickly spotted An Ran, quickening her pace. The tables were adjacent; she’d seen An Ran talking to Song Yi.

Song Yi followed An Ran’s gaze, her hazy expression fixed on Wen Zhixu as she neared. Wen Zhixu’s focus was all on An Ran.

She’d just reached her seat when An Ran was about to introduce them. She turned, noticed the pair, and hurriedly sat—unfortunately, right across from Song Yi.

Jian Shichu naturally caught her subtle expression—the flush at Wen Zhixu’s eye corners, the unnaturalness. Whatever she’d meant to say about business went back down her throat.

Her gaze shifted to Song Yi, a sour pang in her chest. What was that look Wen Zhixu gave Song Yi?

Song Yi said to An Ran, “So your friend’s Teacher Wen.”

“Yeah, let me introduce you.” An Ran smiled.

Song Yi looked at Wen Zhixu. “We know each other, though Teacher Wen probably doesn’t remember me.”

Wen Zhixu choked on her words. She leaned forward toward Jian Shichu. “N-no… I don’t remember. An Ran, see what you want to eat.”

She tried her best to change the subject and avoid any contact with Song Yi, completely unaware that her face had turned beet red. In that short time, she seemed like an entirely different person.

Song Yi noticed something was off with Wen Zhixu and stopped leaning in to greet her. Instead, she turned to Jian Shichu, who was silently eating without a word—an unusual quiet that wasn’t limited to just one person.

Wen Zhixu ate this meal in utter disarray, waves of chill creeping up her spine. Even though Song Yi wasn’t looking at her, she remained terribly tense.

Midway through, An Ran picked some food for her. Every time the chopsticks touched Wen Zhixu’s bowl, she felt like Jian Shichu’s peripheral gaze was sweeping over.

“Xiao Xu, what’s wrong?” An Ran noticed the cold sweat beading on Wen Zhixu’s forehead and handed her a tissue.

Wen Zhixu took it. “I’m fine.”

Song Yi looked over at the sound.

Jian Shichu cleared her throat and asked indifferently, “Are you done eating?”

Both sides finished the meal at the same time. Wen Zhixu had wanted to dodge them, but she ended up reaching the door one after the other. The sun had set, the sky turning a grayish blue that hushed all the earlier bustle.

An Ran and Song Yi chatted about the interview for the event the day after tomorrow.

The figures reflected on Song Yi’s glasses. Wen Zhixu listened in; it was time to part ways, and she inexplicably let out a breath of relief.

Who knew that right then, Song Yi suddenly turned to Wen Zhixu with a smile. “Teacher Wen, mind if I add you on WeChat?”

Wen Zhixu froze all over, abruptly lifting her head to look at Song Yi. To be honest, she didn’t want any connection with Song Yi at all.

Jian Shichu suppressed the breath stuck in her chest, slowly turning her head aside while crossing her arms, not looking at them. The faint murmur of the crowd swelled around them.

“Xiao Xu.” An Ran nudged her with an elbow.

Wen Zhixu snapped back to attention, her left hand lifting slightly as she steadied herself to figure out how to respond. “Sorry, I need to hit the restroom first.” With a nod, she turned and slipped back into the Japanese restaurant.

Jian Shichu slowly turned to watch the curtain swaying. She looked at Song Yi and said, “I’m going too.”

She turned and followed after her.