Meng Ning was stunned for a moment.
After hesitating for a long while, she sent a text to Wen Zenian: “What milk candy?”
Wen Zenian didn’t reply.
Meng Ning slung her backpack over one shoulder. As she prepared to leave, the woman cleared away her coffee cup and wiped down the counter with a rag. “Coming back next week?” she asked.
Meng Ning paused. “Not sure.”
The woman smiled. “From your accent, you’re not local. Neither am I. By the way.” She tossed the rag back under the counter and tapped her cheek with a fingertip. “Cen Meigui.”
How could anyone have a name like Rose?
Yet the woman’s face carried such unapologetic confidence. She wasn’t young anymore—fine lines of natural relaxation gathered beneath her eyes—but her features were so strikingly vivid that they overshadowed the marks of time.
Meng Ning smiled. “Got it.”
She didn’t offer her own name.
Stepping out of the café, she was nearly blinded by the sun. She lingered a moment longer under the café’s vintage European-style eaves before pulling out her phone. The screen was a blurry glare from the light, so she had to cup her hand over it to see that Wen Zenian still hadn’t replied.
She recalled Wen Zenian on stage, addressing the crowd in that meeting—she must be busy.
Meng Ning wasn’t even sure if those last words from her had been directed at her. She certainly couldn’t text to follow up.
Back at the rental apartment, Qi Xiao was trying on a new dress with Song Xiao. Meng Ning mentioned Wen Zenian’s plan to inspect the morning training, and Qi Xiao spun in front of the full-length mirror in the living room. “Once I finish trying this one, we’ll head out.”
On their days off, they always caught the last fast boat of the evening to make it for the next morning’s training.
“Yeah, no rush. Plenty of time,” Meng Ning said. She sank into the double-seated sofa with its wooden armrests and set her backpack aside.
Qi Xiao eyed herself in the mirror. “I bought this goose yellow, but it makes me look a bit dark. Should I swap it for mint green? What do you think?”
Meng Ning took a look. “Go with the goose yellow. It’s cute.”
Meng Ning never had such dilemmas. Year-round, she stuck to black, white, or gray T-shirts and hoodies. And ever since becoming a beach lifeguard, she rarely wore casual clothes anyway.
“Alright, goose yellow it is.” Qi Xiao went into the bedroom to change out of the dress. When she emerged, she told Meng Ning, “It’s not that I trust your fashion sense. It’s just that with a face like yours, you’re awfully convincing.”
The two headed out together and grabbed bowls of seafood noodles at a little eatery downstairs.
The sun sank lower bit by bit, amid crowds heading home with takeout bags. When the pointed roof of the watch shop ahead blocked half the orange-red sunset, Meng Ning pulled out her phone again.
Still no reply from Wen Zenian.
Qi Xiao half-joked, “You’re totally dating someone, aren’t you? Who are you waiting for?”
“No,” Meng Ning said, pocketing her phone. “It’s not like that.”
“Then who do you meet every off-day afternoon?”
Meng Ning just smiled.
They took turns paying when eating out, and this time it was Meng Ning who scanned the code. As Qi Xiao hummed a tune Meng Ning didn’t recognize, she suddenly asked, “Which brand of milk candy is good?”
Qi Xiao loved snacks. On every day off, she’d stock up on chips and egg rolls.
“You want candy? I don’t like sweets, so I can’t recommend any. Chocolate okay?”
Meng Ning curved her lips. “Nah, just asking.”
They strolled together to the bus stop. The subway could get them home too, but it meant a longer walk. Sometimes if they left early, they’d dawdle there waiting for the bus that came every twenty minutes.
Qi Xiao chatted idly with Meng Ning. “What was it like running into Gwyneth again?”
Meng Ning thought for a moment. “Not really ‘running into’ her. More like getting to know her anew.”
“Why?”
“She’s changed so much from the past. Like a whole new person.”
“But you don’t remember what she was like back then.”
“True, but she was a little girl then. Now she’s a mature woman.”
If she added more flourishes, she’d say that now Gwyneth was an excessively beautiful woman, one whose every gesture carried the sea breeze and moonlight, a woman skilled at weaving dreams for others.
Meng Ning said, “The way I feel seeing her is probably the same as how you feel.”
“I don’t even dare talk to her.”
Meng Ning said earnestly, “Neither do I.”
It was true. Except for that one blackout moment, she always hurried away in a panic.
Qi Xiao sighed. “No wonder she’s the Lesbian Circle Hottie and hasn’t had a single rumor in all these years. What kind of person would even dare chase her?”
Meng Ning shook her head. “No idea.”
“But she’s pretty nice to you.”
Meng Ning smiled. “Just polite.”
Qi Xiao checked the time on her phone. “Where’s the bus? Is it late?”
This was the third time Meng Ning’s gaze flicked toward the twenty-four-hour convenience store down the street. She turned her head—and spotted the bus approaching from the intersection far off.
“Wait for me a sec,” she told Qi Xiao.
Then she bolted toward the store at the roadside.
Qi Xiao jumped. “Hey! The bus is here!”
But Meng Ning had already vanished into the crowd.
Qi Xiao craned her neck looking around. The store wasn’t all that close, and by the time the bus pulled right up, Meng Ning still hadn’t returned.
Qi Xiao called her, but Meng Ning hung up.
Unsure if Meng Ning was paying or what, Qi Xiao trailed behind an auntie carrying a bag of guavas and boarded with one last glance back. “Could you wait two minutes, sir?”
“No can do,” the driver refused. “We’ve got a schedule.”
Qi Xiao shouldered her bag to the second-to-last row and sat. She called Meng Ning again—no answer.
Just as the doors began to slide shut, a slender figure leaped aboard.
Meng Ning favored gray, perhaps thinking the muted color helped her blend into crowds. In truth, it only made her face stand out more.
When she hopped on with her backpack slung over one shoulder, the strap swayed twice, and the sunset beyond the window swayed with it. Qi Xiao realized Meng Ning looked like a dolphin even out of her black swimsuit—agile in her movements, her face clean and rippling with subtle waves.
Everyone on the bus turned to look at her.
Head lowered, her long lashes filtered the sunset streaming through the window, turning it into tiny, fluffy dandelion seeds beneath her eyes. She made her way to Qi Xiao’s side, hooked a hand through the hanging strap, and as the bus lurched into motion, she pursed her lips in a smile and handed over a bottle of purified water with her other hand.
Qi Xiao clutched her pounding chest.
For a fleeting moment, she doubted herself: Am I the top here?
Without thinking, she blurted to Meng Ning, “Unscrew it for me.”
Meng Ning shot her a sidelong glance.
Qi Xiao laughed, took the water, twisted it open herself, and gulped down a big mouthful. “What were you up to just now?”
“Buying water.”
“Thirsty?”
Meng Ning nodded.
The bus rocked and swayed, carrying them toward some old dreamscape. Warm golden sunlight wrapped the vehicle like amber, and there sat Meng Ning amid it all—one shoulder bearing her backpack, one hand gripping the strap. The bus rocked, and so did she, flowing with it effortlessly, just like when she floated on the sea, offering no resistance.
“Meng Ning.”
“Hm?” She was staring at her shadow cast against the bus window.
“Sometimes I feel like you’re always thinking about something.”
“I am thinking,” Meng Ning said solemnly, nodding. “About how the morning training inspection’s tomorrow. What if we don’t pass?”
Qi Xiao slapped her thigh. “So you are worried! I knew you couldn’t be that chill…”
Qi Xiao’s voice chattered on in her ear like summer cicadas, an afternoon electric fan, or the TV drone left on while reading comics—a lively, comforting presence in the human world that made life feel warm and full, yet so easy to tune out.
Meng Ning gazed out the window at the passing greenery, her eyes distant as she repeated those two words in her mind: human world.
Coincidentally, Xiao Zhang was the one ferrying them to the island this time.
As an extrovert, Qi Xiao could chat with anyone, and now she was raving to him about a new crayfish spot they’d discovered that week. “I love the thirteen-spice kind. People into spicy or garlic butter? Total weirdos…”
Xiao Zhang grinned back. “After all that employee cafeteria food, you just crave messy stuff like grilled crayfish, right?”
Qi Xiao nodded vigorously. “You get it! Sure, the cafeteria’s five-star level, but what’s the one thing all five-star ingredients have in common? Bland! The seasoning’s way too restrained…”
They chatted the whole way. By the time they disembarked, night had fallen, leaving only a lingering tail of the earlier fiery clouds in the distant sky.
Qi Xiao suddenly cursed under her breath and yanked Meng Ning toward the squat Dragon Blood Tree shrubs by the roadside. They crouched down, and Qi Xiao whispered, “You saw that, right?”
Meng Ning nodded.
It wasn’t some ghost—no man-eating specter was truly frightening. What terrified was a demoness who stole souls without a trace.
There stood Wen Zenian, accompanied by that Italian manager and trailed by a group of staff, likely discussing the C Hotel’s landscaping budget.
From afar, they could hear the murmur of her conversation with the others, indistinct as her shadow blurred into a beautiful, hazy dream by the night.
Qi Xiao suddenly burst out laughing with a pfft, and Meng Ning couldn’t hold it in either.
Qi Xiao asked, “Are we total cowards or what?”
Meng Ning defended them both. “Nah, probably everyone’s reaction.”
Everyone yearned for beauty, but how many dared truly touch it? It always made one feel inferior, dredging up those hidden insecurities.
After a while, Wen Zenian’s voices faded away.
Qi Xiao rubbed her ankle. “Are they gone? My feet are numb from squatting.”
Meng Ning said, “Dunno. Take a peek.”
“I just realized—you look all quiet and proper, but you’re sneaky as hell. Why don’t you look?”
“I’m scared.”
“Me too.”
A voice sounded right above them. “Scared of what?”
Qi Xiao, still massaging her ankle, answered without thinking. “Scared of Gwyneth… Ah! Gwyneth!”
She yanked Meng Ning to her feet. They exchanged a glance, both thinking the same: How does this woman walk without a sound?
Wen Zenian seemed to read minds. “The hotel lawn is impeccably maintained, isn’t it? Eight centimeters is the perfect length—soft enough to muffle footsteps.”
Only then did she greet them. “Hi.”
“Hi…” Qi Xiao’s voice trailed off tremulously, folded eighteen times over by the night breeze.
How could anyone make even a simple “Hi” sound so mellifluous and alluring? Most of the time, Wen Zenian’s face showed no trace of a smile, but now the corners of her lips curved upward just a touch. It softened her already striking features in the dim night light, emboldening those around her to chase after more of that elusive smile—and to wonder what had sparked it.
Qi Xiao glanced at Meng Ning beside her. Meng Ning kept her eyes fixed on the collar of Wen Zenian’s shirt, avoiding the manager’s gaze entirely.
Inwardly, Qi Xiao prayed for the kind of tacit understanding that came naturally between adults. She hoped they could gloss over that awkward earlier topic and send them back to the staff dormitory to rest.
But an American-born Chinese like Wen Zenian probably didn’t grasp that subtlety. She asked again, “Am I really that scary?”
Qi Xiao had no idea how to respond. She glanced at Meng Ning once more.
Meng Ning hadn’t uttered a single word since Wen Zenian appeared. Yet now, still staring at the collar of her shirt, she nodded firmly. “Yes.”
Qi Xiao was stunned. Inside, she screamed: Do you realize there might be layoffs coming up?
Wen Zenian seemed remarkably good-tempered about it. The corners of her lips curved up a little more, and a faint smile—one Qi Xiao hadn’t noticed before—bloomed across her exceptionally beautiful face. “Sometimes I think you’re too timid. Other times, you seem incredibly bold.”
Qi Xiao hurried to jump in. “Meng Ning didn’t mean it like—”
But at that moment, Meng Ning lifted her head for the first time. She met Wen Zenian’s eyes directly. “When have I ever been too timid?”
Was it that night I spent in your room?
![I’ve Reloaded the Save File! [Transmigration]](https://i1.wp.com/dobytranslations.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/qua.png?resize=151,215 "I’ve Reloaded the Save File! [Transmigration]")