Chapter 20 Part 2

At that moment, the door to Qi Xiao’s room swung open.

Wen Zenian and Meng Ning turned to look.

Qi Xiao froze for a couple of seconds before slamming the door shut with a bang.

Two seconds passed, and she yanked it open again, rubbing her eyes, still rooted to the spot in shock.

Wen Zenian spoke first. “Hi.”

Qi Xiao stammered, “Gwyneth, I didn’t know you were here. Sorry to interrupt.”

Bang—the door slammed shut once more.

Wen Zenian shot Meng Ning a glance before strolling over to lightly knock on Qi Xiao’s door. “It’s no interruption. I’m heading out now.”

She returned to the room with Meng Ning, unzipped her bag to stow the makeup pouch.

Meng Ning gazed out the window at the birds perched on the branches. By now, Wen Zenian must have spotted that box of finger cots herself.

But she said nothing, simply zipping the bag shut again.

The two of them left the room and headed downstairs together. The vibrant bustle of everyday life washed over them. Wen Zenian asked, “Any coffee shops around here? I called for a ride to pick me up—I can grab a cup while I wait.”

She had slipped her suit jacket back on and teetered along in high heels. Already, aunties lugging bags of vegetables and grandpas dangling fritters were eyeing her; her crisp business attire stuck out like a sore thumb amid the neighborhood’s casual vibe.

Meng Ning hesitated. “You’re calling someone to pick you up… here?”

Wen Zenian glanced at her, exhaling softly as if in mild exasperation. “Fine, I’ll book a private car. That work for you?”

Meng Ning stayed silent. Once Wen Zenian finished tapping away on her phone, she piped up again. “Coffee shop’s this way, though I can’t vouch for the taste.”

They stepped inside together. It was still early, and the place was deserted. Wen Zenian ordered an espresso, then turned to Meng Ning. “What about you?”

Meng Ning shook her head. “I just want to head back and nap.”

The grinder whirred to life, filling the air with the subtle aroma of fresh coffee. Wen Zenian leaned against the counter on one elbow, her other hand flying across her phone screen.

Meng Ning waited nearby. A sliver of sunlight slanted through the window; she shifted half a step aside, but it still caught her.

Wen Zenian looked up.

The warmth tickled Meng Ning’s lashes. “What is it?”

Wen Zenian hummed twice, the second one rising in pitch to signal negation, before dropping her gaze back to her phone.

“Miss, your coffee.”

Even the barista seemed half-asleep this early in the morning, but Wen Zenian had a way of drawing lingering looks regardless.

She straightened up, her slender fingers curling around the cup as she stood bathed in the first rays of dawn—like a gift bestowed upon the mundane world.

After all, dreams never pierce the light of day.

She took a sip, and Meng Ning asked, “Any good?”

“Not bad. Sure you don’t want some?”

Meng Ning shook her head.

Wen Zenian checked her phone. “Car’s here.”

She answered a call to sync with the driver, then quizzed Meng Ning on the street corner he’d mentioned.

Meng Ning walked her there. Heads turned all along the way to stare at Wen Zenian. Trailing half a step behind, Meng Ning’s eyes fixed on the delicate high heels peeking from beneath her tailored pants.

Wen Zenian pulled open the car door and pressed the coffee into Meng Ning’s hands before sliding in. As Meng Ning moved to hand it back, the door clicked shut.

The window rolled down. “Meng Ning, I’ve realized you’re incredibly patient.”

Meng Ning blinked in surprise. Then Wen Zenian added, “Good morning.”

She rapped the back of the front seat, and the car pulled away.

Meng Ning strolled back alone, cradling the coffee.

Last time, Wen Zenian had bid her “Good night”—as in, a delightful evening.

So what about today? Had Wen Zenian enjoyed a charming morning?

Gazing at the faint ring of earthy lipstick on the white lid, Meng Ning lifted the cup and took a sip.

Wen Zenian could be downright wicked.

Leaving her this coffee, ensuring she wouldn’t catch a wink of sleep.

In the private car, Wen Zenian rummaged in her bag for a travel-sized perfume.

After escorting the investor off the island the night before, she hadn’t returned—not only because the drinks had left her too indolent to bother, but also since she had another meeting in the city today.

She uncapped it, and a delicate blend of tea and thyme drifted out. Out of habit, she angled the bottle toward her ear.

She paused, lowered her arm, and cracked the window a sliver.

The scents of her shampoo and body wash were throwbacks to childhood innocence.

Wen Zenian recapped the perfume and dropped it back in her bag, opting not to spritz more. She directed the driver to a luxury boutique, strode in to purchase a fresh suit, changed on the spot, then arrived at another five-star hotel to rendezvous with her colleagues—her poise renewed.

The British investor was lodged there; they’d arranged to meet in the lounge. Young as she was, he treated her with deference, offering a firm handshake and addressing her as “Ms. Won.”

She smiled faintly. “Gwyneth will do.”

Beneath the veneer of civility lurked ruthless intrigue. Fortunes were won by those who fought tooth and nail while striking elegant poses.

Wen Zenian brushed the nape of her neck and let out a slow breath.

Back at the rental apartment.

Qi Xiao had darted out after hearing the door close earlier, freshened up, and parked herself on the sofa to wait. The jingle of keys in the security lock had her snapping to attention, bracing to flee to her room if Wen Zenian appeared.

But it was just Meng Ning. Qi Xiao deflated with relief, only to straighten up again—this time fueled by gossip.

She blurted out, “You two hooked up?”

Meng Ning choked on her coffee, hacking away for what felt like forever. “How does someone who’s never even dated have the guts to spout stuff like that?”

She eyed the lid; the lipstick mark had faded completely after her sips.

Finally, she set the cup on the coffee table and plopped down beside Qi Xiao—no point hiding; Qi Xiao would storm her room for answers anyway.

“You didn’t hook up, so why was she here at the crack of dawn? And touching your eyes?”

“She noticed my dark circles, that’s all.”

“Dark circles already?” Qi Xiao gasped. “How many rounds did you go?”

Meng Ning nearly gagged sans coffee. “Qi Xiao, you…”

She shook her head. “Nothing happened. I crashed on the sofa last night.”

Qi Xiao smacked her fist into her palm, composing herself. “When did she get here?”

“After you were all asleep. Probably post-banquet, after dropping off the investor—too lazy to trek back.”

“So… our dump of a rental?”

Meng Ning nodded.

“You really think she’s not hitting on you?” Qi Xiao exploded. “Plenty of five-star admin suites on tap if she skipped the island. Why crash in your dinky bed?”

“It’s not dinky, and the sheets are spotless.” She wasn’t much for chit-chat usually, reserving her quips for moments like these.

Qi Xiao shot her a glare.

Meng Ning relented slowly. “Okay, yeah, I think she is flirting.”

Qi Xiao punched her palm again. “Then why run from it? Hold on.” She eyed Meng Ning. “You’re the top, right? That urge last night, facing her…”

Her hands swirled in a vague circle before her chest, mimicking some arcane gesture.

Meng Ning declared firmly, “I’m the top.”

Qi Xiao gazed at her with envy, like she’d at last embraced her true self, before catching herself. “Wait, but zilch happened? Why? Spill—why? That’s Gwyneth!”

Meng Ning echoed, “That’s Gwyneth.”

“And?”

“Why me? Our lives are worlds apart. What could she possibly see in me?”

“You’re gorgeous?”

“Gorgeous enough to be unrivaled in her league?”

Qi Xiao winced.

“Maybe she isn’t overthinking it? You go way back, reconnected, she notices you, you vibe… and then…”

Meng Ning finished her thought. “And then she’ll see how we’ve diverged into totally different people.”

Their days off ended, and Meng Ning and Qi Xiao returned to the island.

The guest rooms brimmed with occupancy; staff scurried like mad. Wen Zenian hadn’t contacted Meng Ning. She’d caught a distant glimpse once.

On duty, Meng Ning spotted what looked like a cramp in the water and scrambled down from the watchtower to intervene.

But the swimmer recovered swiftly, bobbed awhile, and stroked onward. Meng Ning halted midway—no rescue required. A wave kissed her ankles, fine sand prickling her soles.

She noticed onlookers staring at a nearby reef.

On instinct, she followed their gazes upward.

There stood Wen Zenian.

Clad in her formal suit, a metal waist chain cinched her silhouette—slender yet not overly yielding. The regulation six-centimeter heels suited her flawlessly, elongating her calves to perfection.

As if rendered by a master’s ink brush.

She conferred with management along the shore. The Italian general manager gesticulated grandly at the sea, scheming away.

Wen Zenian listened with half an ear; she might have been rapt, but her expression betrayed nothing—cool and detached. Perched high on the rocky outcrop, the wind whipped fiercely. She tucked a stray lock behind her ear, baring the elegant line of her jaw. Just as Meng Ning looked up, Wen Zenian’s eyes drifted her way.

To Wen Zenian, Meng Ning resembled a dolphin at play.

The black long-sleeved one-piece hugged her like a second skin, highlighting her agile, lithe frame—narrow waist, shapely legs. Her long black hair was tied back, and on one slim wrist, strands of Buddha beads wound in neat layers.

Meng Ning had a cool, aloof beauty, yet she smiled often in a way that made her rare unsmiling moments feel all the more precious—like she’d shed a mask, revealing a glimpse straight into her soul.

The blazing sunlight laid everything bare, and her expression even carried a hint of bewilderment.

Wen Zenian tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave her a faint smile with a nod.

Meng Ning immediately averted her gaze.

New Year’s was tomorrow, leaving the hotel rooms nearly fully booked and the beach far busier than usual.

Meng Ning and Qi Xiao dragged themselves back to the dorm on their last legs. Qi Xiao whined as she grabbed a massage gun and started pounding her shoulders and neck.

That’s when Ju Mengya knocked on the door. “Qi Xiao, got any spare rubber bands?”

“Yeah, they’re on the table. Come grab them yourself.”

Ju Mengya came in with a smile and asked Qi Xiao, “Have you checked the group chat?”

Meng Ning realized Ju Mengya was also a member of the [The Definition of Beauty Is Someone You Dare Not Speak To] Group.

Qi Xiao’s voice trembled along with the buzz of the massage gun. “Where’d they snap the big beauty this time?”

“Switzerland. She’s gone skiing with the big boss.”

“Huh?” Qi Xiao switched off the massage gun and shot a glance at Meng Ning.

Meng Ning showed no reaction. She leaned against the headboard, fiddling with her phone.

Ju Mengya’s gossip bug bit hard, so she plopped down at the desk. “What do you think? Gwyneth has never been tangled in any rumors with anyone. Could she be… with the big boss?”

Her eyebrows arched suggestively. Qi Xiao jumped in right away. “No way. Isn’t Gwyneth an heir to the hotel too?”

“Her spot in the line of succession is way down the list, and there’s no blood relation anyway.”

Qi Xiao fell silent for a moment before stubbornly repeating, “Anyway, no way.”

Ju Mengya just chuckled. “Who knows? People like them live lives we can only guess at.”

With that, she waved the rubber band in her hand. “Thanks!” And out she went.

Qi Xiao glanced at Meng Ning again. Meng Ning set her phone down and said on her own initiative, “Let me see it.”

“The photos of her in Switzerland.”