Chapter 48 Part 2

At that moment, a raised voice speaking Italian cut through the air—the general manager’s.

Per the rules of a five-star hotel, staff conversations in the restaurant were kept to low murmurs. His sudden volume drew glances from all around.

Wen Zenian sat across from the general manager, still dressed in that suit uniform with the metal waist chain around her waist. Her posture was always elegant, her legs pressed together and angled slightly to one side.

Meng Ning knew the hotel’s management was surely locked in a heated dispute over some decision right now, but she’d never once asked Wen Zenian about it.

“I heard the investor Gwyneth has been negotiating is about to sign,” Qi Xiao whispered. “The general manager probably feels like it’s cutting into his turf—they seem to be at a standoff.”

Meng Ning smiled. “Word sure travels fast.”

Truth be told, Meng Ning wasn’t all that worried upon hearing the news. After all, Wen Zenian’s position was worlds apart from hers. Wen Zenian played the game of capital and high finance, while she was just a beach lifeguard. She didn’t even understand the rules of that world.

Moreover, Wen Zenian sat across from the visibly rattled general manager, her expression as calm as ever.

Meng Ning thought Wen Zenian was pretty impressive. Most people—like her—would react to someone losing their temper by flashing a smile to diffuse the tension. Nobody liked a direct confrontation. But not Wen Zenian. She rarely smiled, and she certainly wasn’t smiling now. Instead, she speared a raspberry with her fork and elegantly popped it into her mouth, chewing with poise.

The general manager pulled himself together before things got truly embarrassing. Noticing the employees glancing their way, he lowered his voice.

The only thing that sparkled on Wen Zenian’s face was the light from her diamond earrings. Her demeanor was serene, like a still lake undisturbed by whatever the man threw at her.

Meng Ning couldn’t understand why these people always sought out Wen Zenian in the staff cafeteria to hash out their business.

Maybe a crowded place felt safer. Or perhaps in other settings, Wen Zenian had ways of dodging them.

Qi Xiao whispered, “She’s amazing. I’ve never seen Gwyneth show any emotion.”

Meng Ning nodded.

Just then, Wen Zenian finished her breakfast. She stood up, smoothing down the hem of her suit jacket. Her pencil skirt hugged her long, slender legs. Her gaze seemed to sweep toward Meng Ning.

Meng Ning froze for a moment.

But then she realized Wen Zenian’s eyes had probably just casually scanned the entire cafeteria. Wen Zenian touched the diamond earrings dangling from her lobes, picked up her tray, nodded to the general manager, and walked away.

“Cara.”

When Meng Ning arrived at the control room, the team captain called out to her. “You’ve got a light shift today, Cara, but I might need a favor from you tonight. There’s a VIP banquet this evening, and while the kids will be in a separate restaurant for their children’s meal and games, we need someone for the jellyfish viewing tank setup. It’ll require an explainer. You up for it, Cara?”

Qi Xiao grinned. “Captain, you’re not assigning her to wrangle the kids, are you? You think she could handle that?”

The captain smirked. “It’s not that involved. There’ll be dedicated service staff. But yeah, the restaurant’s setting up jellyfish viewing tanks, so we need someone to do the presentation. Cara, you’re perfect.”

Lifeguards had in-depth knowledge of nearshore creatures—their appearances, habits, even toxicity. It wasn’t a tough ask. But then: “We have to wear evening gowns.”

Meng Ning shot Qi Xiao a desperate look that screamed, “Sister, save me.”

Qi Xiao just giggled and volunteered her. “Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll get her ready.”

“Hey…”

“C Hotel has evening gowns for rent, right? Free for staff.”

“It’s not about the money…”

“It’s definitely not about the money,” Qi Xiao agreed with a nod. “Tell me this: you’ve been at C Hotel for five years. Have you ever worn an evening gown? Even at the annual galas, you always find a way to skip it.”

“Dream big, make the dream a full one,” Qi Xiao urged. “Who knows what level of VIPs these are? This is your chance to wear one. Don’t leave regrets.”

Meng Ning smiled faintly.

“That was easy,” Qi Xiao said suspiciously, eyeing her up and down and clutching her chest protectively. “You’re not… I mean, no way. We’re both…”

With other teammates around, she trailed off, holding up two index fingers in an X shape.

Meng Ning shot back, “That’s a two.” She handed Qi Xiao the rescue float board. “Time to clock in.”

It wasn’t that she’d been easily swayed. Qi Xiao’s mention of “regrets” had just hit home.

Life was full of regrets.

Farewells that came too late. Crushes where the heart yearned but the chance never came. Old friends fading from your contacts list. Everyone said, “Don’t leave regrets,” but how many could you truly control?

A single evening gown was probably the easiest.

It felt like she’d made some effort herself not to leave regrets in that regard.

The banquet started at eight. Time was tight after her shift ended.

Qi Xiao rushed with Meng Ning to borrow a gown. She pushed for something flashier, but Meng Ning was conservative. Qi Xiao pressed: “Didn’t you say no regrets? This is your last chance before you leave the job.”

Meng Ning had a killer comeback: “I’m flat-chested. Those picks of yours wouldn’t suit me.”

…Fair enough.

Back at the dorm, Qi Xiao did Meng Ning’s makeup, hauling out her full kit. She studied Meng Ning’s face from both sides and whistled. “Whoa, your skin’s so good, you might not even need foundation.”

Meng Ning wasn’t big on makeup, but for a client banquet, skipping it would be rude—unlike an internal event.

Luckily, Qi Xiao was skilled. When she finished, Meng Ning checked the mirror. It was natural, barely different from her usual look.

“How is your face even real?” Qi Xiao pulled out her phone. “Come on, selfie time, sis. Last one before you go. You hold my phone up front; I’ll lean back so my face doesn’t look huge.”

She pinched her own cheeks grumpily. “I didn’t even contour you!”

“Nah.” Meng Ning demurred politely. “You know I don’t like photos.”

“For real.” Qi Xiao had always found it odd that Meng Ning hated photos. “Out of every beauty I’ve met, you’re the only one. Everyone else posts three hundred a day, flooding their feeds.”

Knowing Meng Ning’s stance, she pocketed her phone without pushing. “Go on, then. Even if it’s work, have fun. After all, this is C Hotel.”

The place everyone saw as closest to paradise. A dream far from the everyday grind.

The lifesaving team rarely entered the hotel’s main building, so Qi Xiao worked fast on the makeup to let Meng Ning arrive early. Meng Ning checked in with staff and entered the banquet hall alone.

It was always breathtaking.

The interior featured French U-shaped tiles for decoration, paired with wooden slatted blinds. Chinese butterfly vents were purely ornamental, powered by the fresh air system.

The aquarium tanks for the kids’ viewing were already set up.

Meng Ning approached them.

C Hotel had a small public aquarium with audio guides, showcasing jellyfish most prominently. These near-transparent creatures hid gorgeous colors up close, drifting ethereally—like a dream.

Lifeguards had never visited the aquarium off-duty. They’d taken plenty of stings from jellyfish: legs going numb fast, drowning a real risk. Heading there after work felt too much like the job.

But now, she had to admit, placed in this banquet hall under special lighting, the drifting jellyfish resembled leisurely clouds or early spring petals, light and thin. Beautiful.

The semicircular archway of the banquet hall suddenly swung open.

Of course. For an event this upscale, Wen Zenian would oversee it. The woman who entered was Wen Zenian.

There’d been that awkward time when she’d worn a black shirt and Wen Zenian a white suit. Tonight, both had chosen black evening gowns.

Wen Zenian’s, though, shone like starlight, elegant on her without ostentation. Paired with a matching wide-shouldered blazer, it amplified her presence.

She moved like she controlled day, night, and the seasons themselves, each step trailing temporal light.

The hall was vast, the children not yet arrived. Wen Zenian’s fine high heels clicked softly against the vintage-patterned floor tiles, nearly echoing.

It almost resonated in Meng Ning’s chest too, her heart echoing along.

In truth, Wen Zenian stood far off, hands clasped behind her back by the first tank, seemingly studying the jellyfish. Half the hall separated them.

She didn’t speak, so Meng Ning held back too, wary of other staff entering.

“You did your makeup.” Wen Zenian spoke first.

Meng Ning instinctively glanced at the ceiling.

Why make the banquet hall a round-arched barrel vault? It amplified Wen Zenian’s voice with echoes, that low magnetic timbre magnified endlessly.

“Oh, yeah.” Meng Ning’s eyes flicked sideways. Wen Zenian was still fixed on the jellyfish in the tank.

So when had she noticed? From this distance, spotting the makeup?

Wen Zenian took two steps closer, to the second tank, hands still behind her back, gazing at the floating jellyfish. “Who did it?”

Meng Ning thought: Does that matter?

There were so many more important things between them.

Like, did Wen Zenian actually like her?

Like, what was behind giving her that sci-fi story with no ending?

Like, with Wen Zenian leaving this weekend, should Meng Ning still go to her room? Should they have a proper goodbye?

But Wen Zenian’s focus seemed more on the jellyfish than on her. She leaned in slightly. Meng Ning caught how the tank’s pale golden accent light played across her face.

Qi Xiao,” Meng Ning answered honestly.

Wen Zenian said “Oh.” Back at the dorm, Qi Xiao—who was propped against the bed playing games—let out a massive sneeze.

Wen Zenian stepped closer still, to the third tank. “What are these jellyfish called?”

“Hm?” Meng Ning looked over. Now, only two tanks separated them.

“Peach Blossom Jellyfish,” Meng Ning told her. “There are ancient Chinese records of it. Transparent as a cicada’s wing, it appears when peach blossoms bloom, lives and dies by the peach blossom. When they fade, it’s gone. Stunningly beautiful, but highly toxic.”

Wen Zenian reached out, hovering her hand near the tank’s lid. “What if I touch one?”

“Don’t joke around.” Meng Ning tensed instantly. “It’s really poisonous. The nematocysts on its tentacles shoot harpoon threads, paralyzing limbs.”

“Mm.” Wen Zenian smiled faintly and withdrew her hand, taking two more steps.

Only one tank between them now. Wen Zenian glanced down at Meng Ning’s feet and let out a soft chuckle.

Meng Ning wore sneakers.

No helping it; she really couldn’t handle heels.

The gown she’d picked was plain black, simple lines clinging to her lithe figure. Years of exercise gave her beautiful lines. Makeup didn’t make her face look heavy; Buddha beads circled her wrist. With the sneakers, it all worked somehow.

A unique vibe.

Wen Zenian stepped past the final tank. “Meng Ning.”

“Yeah?”

“Turn around.”

Wen Zenian’s made-up face was right there. Suddenly, Meng Ning thought she resembled a jellyfish.

A face like one bloomed by peach blossoms, appearing only in the perfect dreaming season. Wen Zenian said softly, “That lipstick shade’s too bold. Doesn’t suit you.”

Tissues were everywhere in the hall.

But Wen Zenian’s fingertip pressed close, warm enough to disarm, covering Meng Ning’s lips and gently rubbing.

That sensation felt just like the numbness that followed poisoning. Wen Zenian gazed at her, her lips curving into a smile. “Meng Ning, every time you look at someone like this, it makes them wonder if you’ve really fallen for them.”

Meng Ning lowered her head to glance at the red mark on the pad of her finger. “You’re just like a jellyfish, aren’t you?”