“Is President Yu going to stop me?”
Unexpectedly, she would ask it like this, laced with hostility from who-knows-where, even a hint of wariness in her eyes.
She had always spoken in gentle, soft tones before. Hearing this stiff tone now felt like a stab to Yu Wan, leaving her momentarily speechless.
Her hand hanging at her side clenched slightly, her throat bobbed, and she silently watched.
“A few months ago, I already messaged Manager Zuo. The department transfer application and execution all followed company procedures—there’s no violation.” Fang Nianchen had the urge to rub her temples; the throbbing pain was truly infuriating. “And the head of the Planning Department has already signed off on it.”
Her reasons were solid, her intentions clear.
In comparison, President Yu seemed like the villain abusing her power, not even as noble as Zuo Anfeng.
At least he hadn’t explicitly shown any intent to obstruct.
A personal signature from the Planning Director was, after all, someone on par with Director Yu. Fang Nianchen bringing him up carried a hint of threat.
But it was just like a kitten’s scratch—neither painful nor itchy.
“There’s no issue with what you said.” Listening to her, she seemed even more dissatisfied; today’s Fang Nianchen was exceptionally impatient. Yu Wan explained, “No one can stop you if you want to leave. I just want to know why you’re leaving. Is it because you’ve run into frustrations at work and feel it’s not suitable here, or do you want to get away from someone?”
“As your superior, within the scope of work, these are things I need to understand… It’s not because we knew each other before.” Yu Wan seemed to know exactly what she cared about, hitting the bullseye.
It was like a bucket of cold water dumped over her head, making Fang Nianchen flush with embarrassment.
Out of dozens of employees in HR, was she the only special one?
If it weren’t Yu Wan standing in front of her right now, she wouldn’t have those ridiculous, malicious assumptions, nor would she use that aggressive tone to deliberately push her into an awkward spot.
Did Director Yu have some compelling reason to keep her? She wouldn’t figure it out even if she lived another ten years.
Just like how a car owner wouldn’t send the car to the shop for a tiny scratch—time and energy had to be saved for more important parts.
Her resignation changed nothing; someone would always take her place.
Director Yu had no need to go to such lengths to persuade an ordinary replaceable worker.
Fang Nianchen thought that was the full reason, and it was reality.
When exactly could she stop assuming that everything Yu Wan said or did had an ulterior motive?
Her instinctive self-indulgence made her feel ridiculous.
Just when she thought Yu Wan’s explanation ended there, she heard her speak again: “And as your friend, with my longer time in the workforce, I can offer you some reference on work and positions. I don’t want you to make a decision on impulse and then regret it.”
Her words were so sincere that they made Fang Nianchen’s single-minded thinking seem even more unreasonable.
Yu Wan still used a very gentle tone: “Before I sign off on your transfer to Planning, can’t we have a good talk?”
The rebuttal was logically impeccable; only a scoundrel would cling to their original stance and argue further.
Clearly, Fang Nianchen wasn’t one, nor did she want to be. Rationality returned, and she realized she’d been a bit out of control today.
On one hand, it came from her own sensitive inferiority complex; on the other, from the boundary Xiang Xiaoyun had trampled.
She’d been overly anxious.
Fang Nianchen’s mood was incredibly complicated right now, like a ball of yarn clawed by a cat—angry but with no reason, irritated but with no outlet.
Her head didn’t seem to hurt as much anymore. Her hostility faded, and she became more amenable: “It’s not really… If you’re not too busy, we can chat.”
“If you’re not busy.” Fang Nianchen repeated as if afraid of troubling her.
“Of course I’m not busy.” Yu Wan’s expression relaxed. “Shall we go? Find a place to eat and talk over food. I’m hungry.”
“Okay.”
Yu Wan didn’t mention again how she’d rushed back from dozens of kilometers away. Tonight, she was supposed to stay there to meet someone.
But no one was as important as Fang Nianchen, and none as shocking as her sudden decision to leave.
Shocking enough that Yu Wan felt she was deliberately avoiding her.
It wasn’t the first time she’d had this feeling—not since their first meeting at the company, not since seeing Fang Nianchen’s smile that wasn’t from the heart.
The reunion scene was far from what she’d imagined—no excited chatter, no joy, just a flat glance, a flat encounter.
Fang Nianchen had even found a lame excuse to dodge the meeting, then poked holes in it herself.
She couldn’t say who cut contact first. Yu Wan only knew Fang Nianchen’s exit had been silent yet foreshadowed. In the months before her graduate graduation—when Fang Nianchen was about to rise to her sophomore year—their chat frequency dropped due to mutual busyness.
After graduation, she’d plunged headlong into work, automatically severing all social ties.
By the time she recovered from the grueling job and debts that weren’t hers, able to breathe—it was already her second year on the job.
Calculating that Fang Nianchen had graduated university, Yu Wan went to find Xiao Ning’an and asked about her whereabouts, only to get three cold words: “Don’t know.”
Didn’t know where she’d gone, didn’t know if she was doing well.
Fang Nianchen had vanished from everyone’s sight; her Moments no longer public.
In that moment, Yu Wan was wrapped in endless bewilderment and loss. She’d naively thought Fang Nianchen was the sun—even without looking, she’d always shine.
But she’d forgotten: the sun sets.
Yu Wan reviewed their chat history and found it was always Fang Nianchen sharing endlessly. Occasionally like a neglected puppy talking to itself, her enthusiasm never extinguished.
She seemed to have her own code of conduct, never minding gains or losses, just expressing her joy.
Her happiness had successfully reached Yu Wan.
Though unwilling to admit it, she truly felt that in her final university year, being with Fang Nianchen felt like being in love.
Caught in that infatuation-like state, selfishly wanting to claim her for herself.
But… how should she confess such feelings to whom, and in what way?
To have improper thoughts about her sister’s good friend—she didn’t think she was a good older sister.
What about Fang Nianchen? If she knew about those thoughts back then, would she find her disgusting?
A girl her age should have been innocent, befriending her with the purest intentions.
Bluntly put, she’d overstepped.
Realizing this, Yu Wan decisively didn’t rekindle that self-serving emotion. The best way to restrain desire was to forget.
Until… she received Fang Nianchen’s message.
It was Fang Nianchen who sent it first, and that day was her birthday.
—
Yu Wan suddenly snapped back to reality and found Fang Nianchen staring at her blankly. “What’s wrong?”
“We’ve ordered. See if there’s anything else to add.” Fang Nianchen’s attitude had improved immensely since they got in the car. Yu Wan let her order, and she’d obediently taken the pen to choose. Now she asked with concern, “Are you tired?”
As if to make amends, she’d volunteered to drive on the way here. Worried Yu Wan would think she was being unreasonable, she’d stolen anxious glances and noticed her distraction.
Even at the restaurant, in just these few minutes of ordering, Yu Wan had zoned out again.
Someone used to being strong showed even the slightest fatigue obviously.
Yu Wan smiled faintly. “A little.”
Tired, of course she was tired. Someone was scared enough to run, couldn’t be kept, and she was misunderstood to boot—her heart was exhausted.
Glancing at the menu, Fang Nianchen liked spicy food, but she’d ordered all light dishes, probably considering Yu Wan’s period meant no spice.
“You can order more of what you like.” Yu Wan pushed the menu back. “I can handle a little spice.”
Fang Nianchen shook her head, unwilling. “Too much spice causes heatiness.”
Heatiness made tempers flare.
She didn’t want to face Yu Wan looking emotionally unstable, like a mental case.
“Alright, then this is it.” Yu Wan handed the menu back to the server. She’d already noticed the dishes Fang Nianchen picked were all her favorites.
She’d chosen a place specializing in Tujia fusion cuisine, which nailed the spice levels. She’d picked it because Fang Nianchen liked spice, but unexpectedly, she was accommodating her again.
Even though she was so much younger.
Yu Wan felt rather helpless toward her and wanted to ask if this personality of hers was the same with everyone.
Fang Nianchen propped both hands on the table, gripping her water cup, her fingers constantly rubbing the smooth surface of the cup. She stayed silent, letting her silence speak for everything.
“Your graduate studies were in the UK?” Yu Wan didn’t bring up the department transfer directly. Instead, she steered the conversation back to two years ago.
“Mm…” Fang Nianchen nodded slightly. “Marketing and management, both in business studies.”
“With your abilities, staying in the UK shouldn’t have been a problem, right? Why did you come back?”
Yu Wan recalled hearing the professor praise Fang Nianchen’s academic abilities before graduation, hearing Xiao Ning’an teasingly call her a freakish study bug, and hearing friends mention her various talents.
Her excellence and brilliance had already become an existence that others couldn’t ignore.
“My dreams aren’t there.” This time, Fang Nianchen answered quickly, as if it were an answer she’d confirmed countless times in her heart.
It was surprising that she would give such an answer. Yu Wan curved her lips slightly. “Then where are your dreams?”
Fang Nianchen suddenly lifted her gaze to look at her, her eyes melancholic and profound, yet laced with warmth. A few seconds later, she looked away again, back at the cup in her hands. “I don’t have dreams. From childhood… I never had the right to choose things I liked. No one cared what my dreams were; they just said what kind of person I should become, that I should be… a successful person.”
Yu Wan had never heard her talk about her childhood before. Even this mere tip of the iceberg made her expression grow more solemn.
“In the end, I still don’t know what a successful person looks like.” Fang Nianchen let out a breath and smiled indifferently. “Anyway, it’s not like me. Even now, I don’t know what my dreams should be, but it doesn’t matter. You can’t survive on dreams alone.”
In this society, there was never any place for so-called “dreams.” That was all just to fool kids. All there was were compromises for survival.
Reality was harsh and cruel.
These weren’t the words Yu Wan wanted to hear, nor did she want to hear them from Fang Nianchen, who was only in her early twenties.
“Then leaving HR is the right choice.”
Fang Nianchen was caught off guard by her sudden agreement and hesitated before asking weakly, “Why?”
“HR work is too rigid, and so are the people. No matter how young or energetic you are, staying here long enough will kill your fighting spirit—you’ll just be working for the sake of working.” Yu Wan’s words were gentle, but the reality she revealed was ice-cold. “The people here will only tell you what you should do, just like those who educated you before.”
She herself was a living example, which was why she didn’t want Fang Nianchen to become like her.
She was growing ever more distant from the people around her—her dullness and blandness, her faint coldness, made others keep their distance.
“Did you think before that I would block you and not let you leave?”
Called out, Fang Nianchen nodded embarrassedly.
Yu Wan showed no displeasure and asked again, “You were unhappy because of that?”
From her reaction just now, like a cat with its fur blown up after being poked, Yu Wan naturally guessed as much.
“Not entirely because of that.” Fang Nianchen hid half the reason and only spoke of the work side. “I’m not sure if I can do well in the planning department. Whenever this happens, I get really anxious, and I desperately wish time would speed up so I wouldn’t have to think or worry. It’s just temporary…”
It had always been like this from childhood to now.
At first, it was the urging from behind them—they wished they could lay out every possible future problem right in front of her, making a teenager worry.
They’d press her: How would you solve this situation? If she couldn’t give a satisfactory answer, they’d fly into a rage.
Fang Nianchen feared all unknowns, everything beyond her control.
Even this impulsive decision to transfer to planning had thrown her into panic, leading to a series of irrational actions like today’s.
And once the dust settled, she’d uncontrollably start regretting it, like being trapped in a dead end. Any attempt at the slightest change would bring failure in its wake.
Maybe she shouldn’t have such thoughts at all.
Why stand out? Why not be content with the status quo? Could she really do better?
Fang Nianchen’s gaze dropped lower and lower, her grip on the cup tightening until her hand was visibly trembling upon close inspection.
This was just one of the things tormenting her, as inevitable as expecting the sun the next day. Before dawn arrived, the darkness was enough to kill her.
“And today, I thought the worst of you too. Sorry…”
She apologized for the assumptions she’d imposed on Yu Wan.
“Putting the blame for failure on things that haven’t even happened—you’re too hard on yourself.” Yu Wan couldn’t bear to see her like this. “No need to say sorry to me.”
She hadn’t realized her pressure was this immense; she’d been fooled by the sunny facade Fang Nianchen put on.
Or rather, she’d been blinded for a long time.
Only now did Fang Nianchen seem like someone in her early twenties, overwhelmed by hesitation and unease.
Standing at the foot of the mountain, looking up was nothing but thick fog.
“I’ll sign the department transfer application on Monday.” Seeing her state, how could Yu Wan bear to delay? She was glad she’d come back today and heard this confession.
But after hearing it, besides agreeing quickly, she didn’t know what else to say to make Fang Nianchen feel better.
The usual platitudes would sound like lecturing, and she didn’t want to say them to her.
Racking her brains, it seemed she alone had never learned how to comfort someone.
“Don’t worry.” Fang Nianchen sniffed lightly, forcing a smile. “I was just overthinking earlier. Now… I’m much better.”
Her slightly trembling hand clenched silently, as if nothing had happened.
She seemed to have heard these comforting words countless times before; even from Senior Yu, they wouldn’t help.
She couldn’t give her what she truly wanted.
Not wanting the atmosphere to stay heavy, Fang Nianchen deliberately changed the subject. “You just said HR is rigid, but why have you stayed in HR all this time?”
“Because…” To lighten the mood, Yu Wan joked, “I’m a rigid person.”
Fang Nianchen laughed obligingly, seemingly pulling herself out of the negative emotions.
The rest of dinner passed blandly; no one brought up the transfer again, and somehow the topic was dropped.
After eating, Yu Wan drove Fang Nianchen home.
After bidding her good night, Fang Nianchen got out of the car and reminded her to drive safely. These little things were like checklists—she never missed them.
The car cabin’s sensor light gradually dimmed until pitch black filled the space.
Enveloped in silence, like being away from a heat source, Yu Wan’s heart began to cool.
She’d had a premonition that beneath Fang Nianchen’s mature facade lay how much pain was buried, but now that she’d touched it, she worried like never before.
And felt powerless—she couldn’t even say a proper word of comfort.
“Senior.” Fang Nianchen suddenly doubled back, bending slightly to lightly knock on the driver’s side window.
Yu Wan put away her serious expression and lowered the window. “What’s up?”
“You’re not a rigid person.” Fang Nianchen’s smile was sincere, the streetlight above casting a glow that made her eyes sparkle transparently. “You’re different from them. I’ve always thought you have great ideas and are amazing.”
Seeing how serious she was, Yu Wan couldn’t help laughing. “It was my own joke—were you worried I’d get mad at myself? You came all the way back just to tell me this…”
Fang Nianchen stubbornly insisted with dead seriousness. “Because it’s really important! You can’t think so badly of yourself.”
In this moment, she was just like a seventeen-year-old, as if the near-breakdown tonight hadn’t been her.
The smile on Yu Wan’s face widened because of her stubbornness. “Alright, got it. Go back and rest now.”
They parted again, and this time, watching Fang Nianchen leave, she didn’t return.
The wind from the window tossed her gaze into the thick night, and Yu Wan leaned back in her seat, her expression numb.
How had it turned into her comforting me again…
