Naturally, Wen Zenian was nowhere to be seen in the bar.
Meng Ning let out a quiet sigh of relief, inwardly mocking herself for being so paranoid. Even if she and Wen Zenian had known each other in the past, no matter how she looked at it, the woman now was nothing like the one from her memories. The current Wen Zenian didn’t belong to real life—she belonged to the enchanting dreamscape woven around C Hotel’s stretch of sea.
Even after leaving the island, Meng Ning hadn’t dreamed of her during her afternoon nap.
After scanning the bar and confirming Wen Zenian’s absence, a sense of certainty settled in her heart: in her real life, she would never run into Wen Zenian.
Just then, the server approached. Qi Xiao hesitated over the menu, flipping through it for ages. “I’ll have… a Mai Tai.”
When it was Meng Ning’s turn, she was still lost in thoughts of Wen Zenian and didn’t even take the menu. “A White Russian,” she told the server directly.
Qi Xiao and Song Xiao both stared at her in surprise. “You’ve been here before?”
Meng Ning snapped back to the present. “Don’t most bars carry that one?”
“Oh.” Qi Xiao nodded and handed the menu back to the server before steering the conversation with Song Xiao back to Wen Zenian.
Qi Xiao backtracked on her earlier comment. “Actually, no, maybe not even twenty people would try chatting her up. She’s not exactly approachable.”
“Is she mean?”
“No, not mean. She’s polite when she talks to people. It’s just… she’s got this arrogance. Wait, arrogant isn’t quite right either. She’s very ‘big sis,’ you know?”
Qi Xiao smacked her palm in realization. “Right! You know what the secret to being a Lesbian Circle Hottie is? It’s that big sis vibe! She teases you until your heart itches, but you don’t dare get too close. It’s that feeling of looking up to her, just like those sky-high stilettos she wears.”
Meng Ning suddenly recalled Wen Zenian mentioning that she only wore heels these days.
Song Xiao asked, “Why do all the lesbians go for the big sis type?”
Qi Xiao burst out laughing. “Who wouldn’t want a big sister who’s icy to everyone else but gentle only with you? Let me give you an example. Hold on, let me look around…”
She scanned the bar and finally slapped Song Xiao’s shoulder. “Here she comes—check out the bar!”
The bartender was switching shifts. A woman had taken over from the guy who’d been mixing drinks with flashy flair. She leaned close to a customer perched at the bar, asking what they wanted, then spun around with practiced ease to grab a bottle of vodka from the shelf.
Meng Ning glanced over with Qi Xiao and Song Xiao, then quickly looked away.
Qi Xiao explained to Song Xiao, “Big sis is a vibe, you get it? It has nothing to do with age. Take this new bartender sis, for example. She looks at least in her thirties, but she’s no auntie—she’s still a big sis.”
The woman was shaking a cocktail shaker, her long wavy hair cascading down, a small tattoo on her wrist too far away to make out. Her shirt sleeves were rolled up, a hair tie looped around the other wrist. When she got annoyed constantly tucking her hair behind her ear, she set the finished drink on the bar for the customer, then casually gathered her long locks into a messy bun before moving on to the next one.
Song Xiao admitted honestly, “I kind of get it, kind of don’t.”
“Charm? Not quite…” Qi Xiao struggled for words. “It’s just that flavor she has!”
The server brought their drinks. Only when Qi Xiao and Song Xiao’s chat shifted to Song Xiao’s obnoxious boss did Meng Ning lift her wide-mouthed glass for a sip, her gaze drifting casually toward the bar.
The female bartender was still there, her hair now in a bun. When she turned to the liquor cabinet, the pale, slender nape of her neck came into view.
A flirtatious woman sidled up to chat her up. She smiled in response, but from this distance, it felt like her eyes held no real amusement. After a polite exchange, the flirtatious woman left.
She just kept mixing drinks until the next shift change, when the male bartender took over her unfinished orders.
She let out a breath, slipped the hair tie back onto her wrist, tucked a stray lock behind her ear out of habit, and headed to the break room.
Meng Ning pulled her eyes away just as Song Xiao was telling Qi Xiao, “Your jobs are the dream. Not like me, slaving away. You two are living the dream every day.”
“No way,” Qi Xiao waved it off. “Think about it: we’re both on the beach, but the guests are playing while we’re working. We can’t even blink watching the open swim area—I’ve gone through two extra bottles of artificial tears.”
She turned to Song Xiao. “Remember I told you our dorms are in the basement?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not bad or anything—the conditions are pretty good. But every time, I feel like the guests’ beautiful dreams are the tip of the iceberg floating on the sea, and we’re the ones underneath holding it all up.”
Meng Ning gave her a look.
Qi Xiao looked back. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” Meng Ning replied. “I just didn’t expect you to get all philosophical out of nowhere.”
“Oh, shut up.” Qi Xiao laughed and shoved her playfully. “I’ve always been philosophical. Speaking of which,” she asked Song Xiao, “can you take off next Wednesday?”
“Why?”
“It’s C Hotel’s Employee Family Experience Day again. You missed it last year because of work. Can you make it this time?”
C Hotel, as a longstanding five-star property, had a cherished tradition full of warmth for its staff. In the quieter preseason period before Chinese New Year, they’d pick a regular weekday—not a weekend—and invite employees’ family and friends for a free taste of the luxury. A portion of the staff got to join in, receiving the same VIP treatment as the guests.
Meng Ning and Qi Xiao didn’t have anyone else to invite, so they’d both asked Song Xiao.
Qi Xiao egged her on. “Come and see Gwyneth—you’ll get what I mean by ‘big sis’ right away.”
Song Xiao nodded with a smile. “If I can swing the time off this year, I’ll definitely go.”
But more than interest in Wen Zenian, her real draw—as she herself had put it—was closer to “Life’s too harsh. I want to go live a dream.”
Song Xiao really did get the day off. As she stepped off the speedboat onto the island, she spotted Meng Ning and Qi Xiao amid the welcoming crowd, Qi Xiao waving enthusiastically while Meng Ning offered a faint smile.
Song Xiao smoothed her windswept bangs. “I’ve never been to a place this fancy. I’m a little nervous.”
Qi Xiao shrugged. “What’s to be nervous about? It’s just a hotel—all the same at heart.”
But Song Xiao shook her head. “This isn’t just any hotel. This is C Hotel.”
To everyone, whether they’d visited or not, C Hotel was a legend. Walking along turf manicured to the perfect eight-centimeter length, the hotel’s grand yet romantic silhouette came into view. Its Renaissance-inspired columns had been softened into graceful curves, with an elliptical dome perched on pendentives. Today was partly cloudy, no harsh sunlight—just languid shadows from drifting clouds gliding over the building’s contours.
Song Xiao stared, entranced. “It looks like a castle.”
Qi Xiao grinned. “And you ain’t seen nothing yet. Your dream’s just getting started.”
Only then did Song Xiao remember Qi Xiao’s promise of spotting Wen Zenian. “Will Gwyneth be here?”
Qi Xiao faltered a bit. “Not sure if she’ll join something like this. She’s super busy, always in meetings with execs. We live on-site and barely see her ourselves.”
The three headed inside. Since Meng Ning and Qi Xiao had family visiting this year, they got to participate in the experience too.
Passing through the porte-cochère and a tropical plant motif transition, the lobby seamlessly shifted to South Seas style. Vines and wicker softened the lofty dome’s imposing height. The service team stood in an inverted triangle formation amid the vast space.
As the trio entered, the staff in crisp uniforms placed their hands together in front and bowed in unison. “Welcome to C Hotel.”
It was the standard greeting for every guest: “Welcome to C Hotel. Please allow me to guide you on a dreamlike journey.”
Meng Ning froze in place.
Only then did she notice: at the tip of that inverted triangle stood Wen Zenian in a sleek navy uniform. She always wore a metal waist chain that accentuated her slender waist, making her posture even more poised and elegant.
She flashed a perfectly professional smile, revealing just the right number of gleaming teeth on that flawless, classically beautiful face. But her gaze cut through the group of arriving families and friends, landing straight on Meng Ning.
In that instant, her lips parted to deliver the words: “Please allow me to guide you on a dreamlike journey.”
Meng Ning never imagined Wen Zenian would be leading the service team today.
Qi Xiao was surprised too, exchanging a glance with Meng Ning. A concierge led them to a square table with immaculate white linens, not a wrinkle in sight, and a single orchid bloom that seemed eternally vibrant.
A subtle fragrance wafted through the air—foreign rosewood with a hint of cardamom—evoking an incense-filled temple, but far more refined and sensual, easing every nerve. During the wait for food, a discreet live band provided gentle background melodies.
It was said to stem from the founder’s tastes: C Hotel excelled at string music, conjuring images of a holy choir—or, more timelessly, paradise itself.
Wen Zenian approached with a graceful smile, presenting the day’s menu.
Mindful of potential dietary restrictions, it offered three set meal options. Leaning slightly at Meng Ning’s side, Wen Zenian asked, “Which one would you prefer?”
Meng Ning kept her eyes down and caught sight of the slim ankle peeking from her stiletto heel, encased in sheer stockings—the even the bony prominence looked elegantly refined.
And she had addressed her with the formal “you.”
Meng Ning had to admit, people had their flaws. Wen Zenian usually carried just the right touch of aloof pride; her long swan-like neck made her seem distant; even when she smiled at you, you wondered if it reached her eyes.
Yet here she was, this woman, bending slightly at the waist with hands clasped, saying “you” to Meng Ning with such deference.
Meng Ning’s mind raced. She jabbed randomly at Set B.
“Very good, noted,” Wen Zenian replied, pocketing the menu. Her standard smile matched the impeccable updo of her hair. “Please wait just a moment.”
After she left, Qi Xiao shot Meng Ning wild glances. “Out of everyone, she ends up serving you? How’s it feel? How’s it feel?”
She asked twice in excitement.
But Meng Ning seemed faintly dazed, turning to gaze at the floor-to-ceiling window dimmed for ambiance. The winter half-sun strained faintly through a glass seam, slipping down her throat and setting her heart swaying.
Panic was natural.
But beneath the panic lurked something even more unnerving—instinctive thrill she couldn’t hide.
