Chapter 16

Meng Ning’s expression was usually quite neutral, but perhaps because she revealed a touch of genuine regret just then, the librarian apologized to her. “The original is written in Norwegian. Buying a copy to read wouldn’t really be practical.”

Even if she scanned it online and used translation software, a machine-translated sci-fi novel was unreadable.

As Meng Ning stepped out of the library, she thought to herself: Perhaps life was just like this.

Passing by the beach, she caught sight of Wen Zenian in the distance without meaning to.

Wen Zenian had been terribly busy lately, from what her teammates said—constantly dragged into online board meetings. Terms like funding and profitability were worlds away from Meng Ning’s life. She simply paused in her tracks, watching as Wen Zenian strolled along the ancient wooden boardwalk, flanked by several colleagues.

To others, it was just a boardwalk beneath their feet. To Wen Zenian, it was time itself.

Fragmented planks pieced back together, carrying her deeper into the story.

Whenever Meng Ning gazed at Wen Zenian from afar, she felt an overwhelming cinematic quality to the scene. When Wen Zenian tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear with a graceful raise of her hand, time stole a frame. When she tilted her chin slightly to listen to the report from someone at her side, time stole another.

Those frozen frames strung together formed a montage of movie posters, flickering endlessly.

For some inexplicable reason, Meng Ning felt like an audience member seated beneath the silver screen, looking up. Even when Wen Zenian’s gaze drifted in her direction with the breeze, she didn’t panic in the slightest. How could the dream-weaving actress on screen ever notice a viewer lounging in one of those red velvet cinema seats? Likewise, with the vast beach and lush bushes separating them, Wen Zenian couldn’t possibly spot her now.

Feeling safe, Meng Ning stood rooted to the spot for quite a while. Only after Wen Zenian and her colleagues had vanished from view did she continue on her way.

When Meng Ning returned to the dorm, Qi Xiao had already packed up almost everything. Together, they hauled out an old portable shoe rack. Qi Xiao dusted off her hands and declared triumphantly, “Mission accomplished!” Then she asked, “Who are you sending a New Year’s card to over Lunar New Year? I’ve got extras if you want one.”

“You’re sending physical cards?” Meng Ning asked.

Qi Xiao beamed brightly. “Yep! We hotel workers can’t go home for the holiday, so we need to amp up the festive spirit a bit.”

Meng Ning shook her head, then changed her mind. “On second thought, give me one. Thanks.”

Qi Xiao planted her hands on her hips. “And how are you going to thank me?”

“Aren’t we doing the annual fitness test after New Year? When you can’t keep up on the endurance run, I’ll pace you.”

Qi Xiao grinned ear to ear. “Knew you were the best!”

Meng Ning knew that’s exactly what she’d been angling for but was too shy to ask outright. She’d just used the card as an excuse to voice it for her.

Back in the dorm, Qi Xiao generously spread out all her cards. “Pick whichever you like!”

Meng Ning examined them carefully and pulled out one that was elegantly simple.

Qi Xiao held back as long as she could, but Meng Ning caught her glance. “You’re about to puff up like a pufferfish.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hold back my raging gossip instincts! Who’s it for? Are you dating someone?”

“Nope.” Meng Ning eyed the card. “It’s for someone I don’t really know that well.”

On their last day off before Lunar New Year, Meng Ning and Qi Xiao left the island together.

Song Xiao had bought a high-speed rail ticket home for two days later—this would be the trio’s final get-together before the new year. They’d planned on barbecue, but Song Xiao got held up by her boss for overtime again. Qi Xiao snagged a discount voucher, and the two of them took their time eating. By the time they finished, Song Xiao still hadn’t shown, so they sat on the curb, enjoying the night breeze.

The weather was pleasant at this time of year—not too hot. Aside from the occasional rain bringing a hint of early winter chill, it was perfect for lingering outdoors.

Qi Xiao dashed to a nearby convenience store and returned with two cans of beer. She cracked one open with a hiss and clinked it against Meng Ning’s.

“Aren’t you a little drunk already?” Meng Ning asked.

Qi Xiao had downed quite a few during the barbecue.

Qi Xiao shook her head. Just then, a young woman approached to ask for directions—a college student on winter break vacation here, apparently. She couldn’t pronounce one of the characters in the address and held out her phone for Meng Ning to see.

The old alleys twisted like a maze; electronic maps weren’t always reliable. The girl was from the north and gave directions north-south style, while Meng Ning thought east-west. After going in circles verbally, she pulled out a notebook and had Meng Ning sketch a map.

Finally pocketing it, the girl said, “Sis, how about jotting down your phone number too?”

Qi Xiao lunged forward and hooked her arm around Meng Ning’s, staring down the girl without backing down.

The girl faltered for a second but still flashed Meng Ning a sweet smile. “Thanks, sis.” She walked off with her friends.

Qi Xiao released Meng Ning. “What was that for?” Meng Ning asked.

“I’ve been your coworker for two years now, right? Anyone who flirts with you or musters the guts for a direct confession gets shot down every time. I’m just saving you the hassle.” Qi Xiao might’ve had a bit too much to drink. “If we can solve it with action, why bother with words!”

Meng Ning pointed out, “But the way you grabbed me, she looked totally skeptical.”

“So what? My looks aren’t good enough for you?”

“No.” Meng Ning said seriously, “We’re probably both tops.”

Qi Xiao threw her head back and laughed, slapping Meng Ning’s shoulder.

Who’d believe it? Two women in their twenties who hadn’t even brushed the edges of romance, speculating on their “types” based on pure guesswork—and one of them a beauty like Meng Ning.

Meng Ning laughed along, her clear black-and-white eyes sparkling in the night. Qi Xiao stared for a beat before asking, “Ning, someone like you—what kind of person have you ever liked?”

Meng Ning’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Qi Xiao fished hers out. “Song Xiao here?”

It wasn’t. A notification popped up in their WeChat group. Qi Xiao tapped a photo and showed it to Meng Ning. “Tonight’s stunner.”

Meng Ning glanced over. It was Wen Zenian.

She looked again at the group name: [The definition of beauty is someone you dare not speak to].

“You guys didn’t make a secret photo group for Gwyneth, did you?”

“No way!” Qi Xiao said righteously. “We started this group to share the hottest pics from the lesbian circle online.”

“Until recently, when it turned into a Gwyneth paparazzi spot.”

Meng Ning: …

She had no room to judge, since she’d taken a second look at the photo Qi Xiao had opened.

Qi Xiao explained, “Gwyneth was at a banquet tonight—some investor gathering, I think.”

In the candid shot, Wen Zenian wore a sharp suit—not her uniform, but a cropped waistcoat-style blazer paired with wide-leg black trousers. The high heels were indistinct, just slim stilettos peeking from the hems.

The inner shirt was softer than her uniform fabric, draping gently over her collarbones. She wore her hair up as usual, and as she stepped out of the banquet hall—perhaps waiting for someone—she held a clutch in one hand while absently fiddling with a diamond earring in her left ear. Her expression was slightly distant.

She favored those tiny diamond studs, clinging to her earlobe with brilliant clarity and sparkle. Sometimes, with a subtle turn of her long neck, they’d catch the light and dance across her face.

“Want me to send it to you?” Qi Xiao asked Meng Ning.

“What kind of person do you take me for?”

Qi Xiao blinked. “I didn’t mean it like—”

“Do I even need to ask? Send it over.”

Qi Xiao blinked again, then shoved her playfully. “You nearly scared me to death!”

Meng Ning nearly lost her balance from the push, spilling a couple drops of beer from her can. She grinned along with Qi Xiao.

Qi Xiao thought Meng Ning was something else—cool and aloof on the surface, her smiles never quite closing that subtle distance. At first glance, she might seem hard to approach, but really, Meng Ning was easygoing.

She went with the flow on most things. Quiet, but often smiling, and prone to deadpan jokes that caught people off guard.

Qi Xiao had studied the sixteen personality types inside out, but Meng Ning defied categorization.

She tapped away on her phone. “There, sent.”

Meng Ning opened it on her own device.

Her phone was an old model from years back, dropped once and screen-replaced. Wen Zenian’s profile pic came out a touch off-color on it. But the warmer tones deepened her complexion, her sculpted side profile peaking at the tip of her nose, as if all emotion converged there.

Beyond “most suited to an updo,” this photo alone seemed to add a new title: “most suited to a suit.”

Aside from that cheeky banter, Meng Ning couldn’t think of a smoother way to get Qi Xiao to send it.

She admired it for a moment, saved it, and tossed her phone back in her pocket.

No one ever checked her phone, so no one would know this was her first saved photo.

Of course, she’d used the gallery before—for screenshots of info she needed temporarily, always deleted right after. This was the first and only one in her album now.

Qi Xiao warned her, “New Year’s coming up—thieves are hustling for quotas. Keep your phone secure, or it’ll vanish in a blink.”

Meng Ning asked, “What happens to lost phones with no owner?”

“Factory reset and sold secondhand, usually.”

Meng Ning nodded.

They chatted idly a bit longer until Song Xiao rushed up, breathless. “Sorry to keep you waiting!”

“You’re finally off work.” As Qi Xiao stood, her legs wobbled; Meng Ning steadied her. “Where to now?”

“Drinking. I need a drink so bad. That bar from last time?”

“I’m game,” Qi Xiao said, turning to Meng Ning. “You in?”

Meng Ning hesitated.

“Come on,” Song Xiao urged. “It’s my last wish before the new year.”

Meng Ning smiled. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Hey, Ning, sometimes I feel like you dote on Song Xiao more than me.”

Laughing and horsing around, the three piled into a cab. Four days to Lunar New Year. Meng Ning sat by the window, her face superimposed over the glittering streetlights, double-exposed into the festive bustle.

The bar’s sign crammed “3rd” into a tiny corner, followed by a period—discreet no matter how many times she saw it. They pushed inside, and Meng Ning beelined for a corner table as usual.

The menu prices weren’t cheap, but for a pre-holiday celebration, they felt reasonable enough.

Meng Ning glanced toward the bar. A bartender with dreads was shaking a cocktail mixer with flashy flair.

Cen Meigui wasn’t there.