Chapter 21: Midnight

There was a touch of madness in Gu Yining’s manner. Her eyes reflected Ji Huaqing’s shy expression.

Ji Huaqing held still, meeting her gaze, as Gu Yining’s fingertip traced the edge of her lips.

She wanted to kiss her.

Gu Yining smiled, held back—afraid of frightening her—and released her hand on her own initiative, then explained what had just happened: “My mother’s best friend arranged a blind date through her daughter tonight. The candidate was Cheng Qingtang.”

She explained slowly, like speaking to an old lady, afraid that if she spoke too fast, the old lady would mishear and start imagining things.

The young old lady, Ji Huaqing, straightened up, turned, and lit the stove. The tips of her ears were pink, as if powdered with rouge.

“I understand.” She answered simply.

Gu Yining leaned against the kitchen door, a shallow smile on her lips, saying nothing, watching her cook.

She felt herself drifting back to years past. They’d lived so close, door to door. When she came home at night, Ji Huaqing would be cooking, and she would stand at the door watching.

Time passed; things changed. Around and around they went, and she had come back.

Dinner was simple: two dishes and a soup. They ate in silence.

Halfway through, Gu Yining’s phone rang.

Both of them jumped, exchanged a glance. Gu Yining placed it on the table and hit speaker.

Song Mingyao: “Sister Gu, Qi Luo went to see Miss Cheng. Miss Cheng just notified the executives, hoping the company will give her a chance to explain.”

Gu Yining scoffed: “Explain how? Say she didn’t cheat? Stage a grand reversal?”

Song Mingyao: “The executives agreed.”

Gu Yining: “?”

Curious, she asked, “What’s Cheng Qingtang’s condition?”

Song Mingyao: “A 5% profit concession.”

Gu Yining held her soup bowl and took a small sip, her expression cool and thin, red lips curving slightly, her skin fair to the point of glowing—beautiful and cold.

“Where is Cheng Qingtang?”

Song Mingyao: “Ten Li of Jianghuai.”

Gu Yining: “Come pick me up. I’m going to see her.”

Ji Huaqing was startled. She glanced at the clock on the wall—almost ten at night. She was going to a bar at this hour?

The call ended. Gu Yining put down her chopsticks and stood, her collar slightly open, inadvertently revealing a hint of cleavage. Ji Huaqing couldn’t help saying, “Change your clothes before you go.”

Gu Yining was taken aback. She’d expected opposition—after all, Ji Huaqing could hardly accept someone running off to a bar near midnight.

The corner of her mouth lifted. Something vague and immaterial seemed to have gotten to Ji Huaqing.

At nearly ten o’clock, off to a bar—if this were the old Ji Huaqing, she’d have grabbed a ruler and come after her.

Gu Yining calmly went to the bathroom.

Listening to the sound of water, Ji Huaqing sat at the table, breathing steadily, looking at the leftover soup.

In her waiting, her phone screen lit up. It was Cheng Qingtang.

One simple line raised a strange feeling in her. In the still, quiet depths of her heart, dark tides surged suddenly.

Cheng Qingtang: 【Have you considered?】

Ji Huaqing didn’t reply. She even switched off the screen in annoyance.

Fifteen years had gone by. Gu Yining should have moved on.

Fifteen years was too long—long enough for her parents to die, for the boy who was once half-grown to have a daughter, long enough for Zhou Hui to achieve fame.

Gu Yining showered quickly. When she came out, she wore a sky-blue shirt over matching trousers, her whole person as if washed clean of the world—cold, ascetic, tempting.

This outfit was even more alluring than the last.

Ji Huaqing pressed her lips, averted her gaze, and looked at her phone.

She swiped the screen open, not knowing who to message. She flipped to Zhou Hui’s page and tried typing a line.

【What’s the relationship between Gu Yining and Cheng Qingtang?】

Then, quickly, she deleted it and switched off the screen again, inexplicably irritated.

Gu Yining finished getting ready and walked to the table, unbuttoning the collar at her neck, revealing sharp, delicate collarbones. One glance and Ji Huaqing frowned: “You’re going out like that?”

Under that look, Gu Yining felt oddly guilty. She did up the button she’d opened, all the way to the last.

“The first one is just fine.” Ji Huaqing said, on a whim.

Hearing that, Gu Yining smiled into her hand, yet felt dazed and lost. “I prefer it when Teacher is a little fierce.”

“You’re saying I’m fierce?”

Gu Yining turned and walked away, grabbing the household registration booklet from the shoe cabinet and slamming it on the table. “We share one household registration booklet. What do you think?”

What did that have to do with anything?

Ji Huaqing couldn’t figure out her meaning—and she was gone, the door slamming shut behind her.

Leaving Ji Huaqing alone at the table. She’d run off to the bar.

Ten Li of Jianghuai at midnight was liveliest. Visitors streamed in through the entrance, neon lights crisscrossing, the city’s colored lamps glittering at the edges—like a city that never slept.

Qi Luo was twenty-five, standing a meter seventy-three. She sat beside Cheng Qingtang, blowing at a strand of her hair, showing off her beauty fully.

She had been smiling contentedly until Gu Yining walked in. The pressure arrived out of nowhere; her expression seemed to be overcast by shadow.

It was said Gu Yining was a true lunatic: whoever crossed her, she’d sooner lose a thousand than spare the enemy eight hundred.

Gu Yining entered, Song Mingyao behind her. She said, “I’ve chosen a private room, President Cheng. Shall we?”

“Fine.” Cheng Qingtang agreed easily. She glanced at Qi Luo, then called to Pei Yirou, “Let’s go.”

Gu Yining took the lead into the room. Before anyone had even sat down, she started: “Tell me your reason.”

“Is the person by President Gu’s side your girlfriend?” Cheng Qingtang said slowly, her fingertip tapping her own cheek. “She looks a lot like your teacher.”

Falling for your own teacher—said aloud, it would be mocked. And she’d found someone who looked like her.

Compared to Qi Luo’s nervousness, Cheng Qingtang was enjoying herself. She had a way to make Gu Yining leave her lover’s side in the middle of the night and come straight to her.

“You’re managing my private affairs?” Gu Yining looked at her, still smiling. “I came to talk about Qi Luo. You like her so much—bring her into your own company, as secretary or assistant, whatever you like. Why pressure us?”

“So you came tonight not to negotiate?” Cheng Qingtang was surprised; she’d thought Gu Yining would bow her head.

Gu Yining lounged against the sofa. It was warm; she instinctively reached to undo her collar. Her fingers touched the button, then trembled, and she looked at Song Mingyao instead: “Turn the air conditioning down.”

Then her hand returned to her knee.

Her movements fell into Cheng Qingtang’s eyes. That stubborn gesture upended all her previous assumptions.

All for that woman?

Cheng Qingtang was indignant. She felt like in those novels where “the white moonlight returns.” Displeased, she instructed Song Mingyao, “Fetch the wine. Qi Luo—here’s your chance to change your boss’s mind.”

Qi Luo was a little afraid. She opened her mouth to explain, but meeting Gu Yining’s eyes, she didn’t know how to begin.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy.

After a long standoff, Song Mingyao brought the wine. She couldn’t drink, but Gu Yining could. She took it, had a sip, and said, “I won’t accept your conditions. The contract ends.”

“We can talk this over. Let bygones be bygones. Just my terms—everyone in your company agreed.” Cheng Qingtang smiled, certain of victory, her gaze fixed on Gu Yining.

Gu Yining swallowed a mouthful of wine, then set it down. “What I mean is I don’t agree. President Cheng, do as you see fit. I came to tell you this is non-negotiable.”

With that, she put the wine down and moved to leave.

Just then, Pei Yirou came in. Without thinking, she reached out and blocked her. “Why are you back here again?”

“You’re drunk. I’ll have Song Mingyao take you home.” Gu Yining frowned, took the cup from her hand, placed it on the table, and guided her out.

Pei Yirou resisted; Gu Yining pulled her out through the door.

Song Mingyao supported the drunk woman and left. Gu Yining caught her breath and turned—Qi Luo had disappeared somewhere. Only Cheng Qingtang remained in the room.

“Qi Luo’s gone. Let’s talk. Your company is—”

“Don’t talk.” Gu Yining interrupted.

Into her view stepped Ji Huaqing.

She was puzzled for an instant. Then Cheng Qingtang suddenly reached out, pulled her inside, turned, and shut the door.

Gu Yining was furious. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anyone disturbing our business discussion.” Cheng Qingtang said with all due hypocrisy.

Gu Yining laughed coldly. “I have a girlfriend, and you’re still getting close to me. Business or personal—you know what this is. Open the door!”

Cheng Qingtang wouldn’t budge, facing her down. “Is she really your girlfriend?”

Gu Yining was guilty. Ji Huaqing was not her girlfriend.

In that single instant, Cheng Qingtang caught the look on her face and knew she’d guessed right. “I am not being a mistress. I like you—openly and honestly.”

The moment she finished speaking, the cellphone Gu Yining had left on the table rang.

On one side of the door, Ji Huaqing heard the ringtone. She looked at the door, hesitated for a moment, then raised her hand and knocked.

The ringtone stopped. A knock sounded. Gu Yining pushed Cheng Qingtang aside and decisively opened the door.

Ji Huaqing looked at her—her gaze not blazing, just tinged with faint nervousness. She hesitated a moment, but Cheng Qingtang spoke first: “You showing up—seems inappropriate. A canary should know its place. Interfering in your financial backer’s affairs isn’t proper.”

Ji Huaqing was displeased. Avoiding Cheng Qingtang’s gaze, the two of them—Gu Yining and Cheng Qingtang—had been in a vaguely intimate pose. Remembering the photo in Moments, she blurted out: “Gu Yining, going to the hotel?”

“What did you say?” Gu Yining was stunned.

“I said, going to the hotel? I don’t have an ID card—but I have a household registration booklet. A brand-new one.”