Qi Xiao opened her mouth, then closed it again. When she finally spoke, her question came out hesitantly. “So… are you okay?”
Meng Ning leaned on her mop, her body tilted slightly to one side. “Do I look like I’m not?”
Qi Xiao actually scanned her up and down, taking in every detail. Meng Ning lifted the corner of her lips. “What, do you think your eyes are X-ray machines or something?”
“That’s exactly why,” Qi Xiao said with a laugh, shaking her head. “I really can’t tell.”
Meng Ning tugged at the corner of her mouth and turned back to mopping the floor.
Not just you, she thought to herself. Even I can’t tell—am I okay?
But out loud, she kept up the casual chatter with Qi Xiao. “Though there is one good thing. After we talked it all out, she said I could keep using her family discount card.”
Qi Xiao blinked. “Is she running a charity or what? Beautiful, kind-hearted, Lesbian Circle Hottie! Hey, did I ever bet on whether she was single? I don’t think I did…”
“In your dreams,” Meng Ning replied as she mopped, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I have to pay it back once I find a job, okay?”
Qi Xiao fell silent for a moment.
A poem came to her mind, though it didn’t quite fit—the one about a mother’s thread in her hands, the clothes on her wandering son’s back, stitched tightly before he left, lest his return be delayed. Generations off, sure, but that was the gist. You had to care deeply about someone to plan so far ahead for them, to tie up all their loose ends before they left, even if they never came back.
Qi Xiao felt a pang in her chest. She sniffed, forcing her voice to stay even. “Actually, she could have waited until you passed your final psychological assessment before leaving.”
Meng Ning shook her head. “No, I was the one who told her to go. If she didn’t, I was afraid I’d never get better.”
The happier she got, the more guilty she felt.
Qi Xiao stayed quiet for a while longer. Meng Ning finished mopping and carried the mop to the restroom to rinse it out. “Enough about me. What about you? Didn’t you say Fang Ji asked you to a movie?”
“Oh, yeah.” Qi Xiao snapped back to the present. “Tonight. Hey, Ning.”
“Yeah?”
“Song Xiao’s working today, and you don’t have volunteer duty this afternoon, right? Come shopping with me for an outfit?”
Amid the rushing sound of water, Meng Ning poked her head out from the restroom door. “Treat me to noodles.”
“Look at you, such low standards!” Qi Xiao waved her hand grandly. “Claypot rice it is! And no veggie ones—gotta get the ones with meat!”
One bowl of claypot rice was nowhere near enough to compensate for the mileage Meng Ning put in that afternoon.
Qi Xiao practically turned the entire mall upside down before settling on a light blue floral sundress that made her look a lot more mature. She even haggled fiercely with the shop owner. “If I weren’t rushing for a date tonight, I’d have just ordered from Taobao—way cheaper.”
“A date, huh?” The owner was pretty straightforward. “Guess I should give you a discount then?”
Qi Xiao’s eyes lit up. “How much?”
“Two bucks off!”
Qi Xiao: …
She scanned the code to pay, grabbed the dress bag, and headed out of the mall. Glancing at the silent Meng Ning, she teased, “What’s with the quiet? Stunned by my beauty?”
Meng Ning waved her hand weakly. “I’m too tired to talk. Do you and Song Xiao always walk this much when you go shopping?”
“Yeah.” Qi Xiao thought to herself, Your stamina is pathetic—you’re a disgrace to our side. No wonder topping her is such a challenge.
She kept that to herself, though. No need to rub it in.
The two took the subway back to their cramped rental apartment, where the only full-length mirror sat in the living room. Qi Xiao slipped into the dress and strutted out to pose in front of it, turning this way and that.
Meng Ning lounged on the sofa without touching her phone, just watching Qi Xiao admire herself, lost in thought for a moment.
To complete the look, Qi Xiao hauled her makeup bag into the living room and started applying it in front of the mirror. After finishing one eye, she suddenly dashed to the sofa, curled up one leg, and plopped down next to Meng Ning. “Do you think I’ve gotten prettier since we first met?”
Meng Ning gave her a sidelong glance. “Can you finish the makeup on both eyes first before asking?”
Qi Xiao huffed and scampered back to the mirror to complete the look, then returned to plop down in front of Meng Ning again. “Well?”
Meng Ning gently pushed down the foot still clad in slippers. “Careful, you’ll get the skirt dirty.” Then she examined her carefully. “Yeah, you have.”
Qi Xiao pressed. “You really think I’ve gotten prettier?”
It wasn’t some humblebrag—it was genuine insecurity.
Meng Ning smiled. “Don’t you know?”
Qi Xiao sighed. “Nope.”
Only after saying it did she realize there was no such thing as being “beautiful but unaware.”
She simply didn’t know because the yardstick for “pretty or not” had never been in her hands.
Damn it, she cursed herself inwardly. You’re going on a movie date tonight—why are you still thinking about her? She’s been gone for years; she must have forgotten all about me by now. Anyway, she only ever saw me as some spoiled little kid.
Meng Ning gave her shoulder a firm pat. “You’re very pretty, Qi Xiao.”
With that clear, bright face of hers, Meng Ning’s words carried real weight. Beauty recognized beauty, after all!
Qi Xiao beamed. “I know! I just wanted a few more compliments from you.”
Meng Ning laughed along with her.
When Qi Xiao finished packing her bag and was ready to head out, Meng Ning reminded her, “Have a good time.”
Qi Xiao glanced back from the doorway, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, I will.”
When Qi Xiao got home, Meng Ning was still awake, propped up in bed reading a novel. She heard the sounds outside and listened closely—Qi Xiao hadn’t gone to her room.
Meng Ning set the book aside and stepped out. Sure enough, Qi Xiao sat on the living room sofa, bag still slung beside her with the strap draped limply over her arm, her other hand resting on the wooden armrest.
Meng Ning sat down next to her. “What are you doing?”
Qi Xiao gave her a calm smile. “Savoring it.”
Meng Ning curved her lips in a smile. “So it was a good night?”
“Pretty good,” Qi Xiao said. She slipped off her bag and set it on the coffee table, then leaned back. “Fang Ji and I both love script killing games, and she’s the DM, so we had plenty in common.”
“The movie was great, the theater was nice, and the popcorn? Let me tell you, every kernel was coated in thick, golden syrup.” She smacked her lips at the memory.
Meng Ning’s smile deepened. “Sounds perfect. So, you two going out again?”
“Next time,” Qi Xiao said with a wink, “depends on when she asks me.”
Meng Ning chuckled. “Enough savoring. It’s late—go remove your makeup, take a shower, and get to bed.”
“You go ahead and sleep. Don’t mess up your schedule,” Qi Xiao replied. “I’ll head in after I sit for a bit and unwind.”
“Alright.” Meng Ning stood. “Just don’t stay up too late.”
“Got it.”
Qi Xiao finished her days off and returned to the island.
Everyone knew Wen Zenian was leaving, but no one knew when. Not even their gossip group chat had dug it up, despite including colleagues from admin. The intel there was: “Haven’t heard Gwyneth booking any flights.”
Qi Xiao had a vague hunch: Was Wen Zenian waiting for Meng Ning?
But waiting for what? They’d already talked everything out, hadn’t they? It was a dead end.
At dinner that evening, Qi Xiao sat with Ju Mengya, and another colleague from the group plopped down across from them. “Finally figured out why Gwyneth hasn’t booked a ticket.”
“Why?”
“She’s leaving the day after tomorrow. Taking a helicopter to the neighboring city first—big boss’s private jet’s there. She’s accompanying him to Switzerland.”
Ju Mengya asked, “Business or personal?”
“No idea.”
Qi Xiao’s mind latched onto one thing: The day after tomorrow.
So that’s when Wen Zenian was leaving.
Ju Mengya sighed enviously. “Helicopter, private jet—what kind of life is that?”
Qi Xiao glanced toward the far end of the employee cafeteria.
Wen Zenian sat alone. With her departure just two days away, she must have wrapped up most of her work. No management sat with her today; she ate quietly, her swan-like neck slightly curved, her posture with knife and fork evoking a European classical oil painting.
Sunset light streamed in from the window, casting her shadow across the table.
Something about the scene shattered Qi Xiao’s composure. She set down her utensils and strode straight over to Wen Zenian.
A shadow fell over her. Wen Zenian looked up.
She hadn’t expected that, after her breakup with Meng Ning, the one who couldn’t hold back and rushed over wouldn’t be Meng Ning—but Qi Xiao.
Qi Xiao’s fists clenched at her sides along the seam of her uniform pants, her hands trembling. Wen Zenian looked up and saw her eyes were red-rimmed.
Her first words came out with a hiccup. She covered her mouth, then forced out a shaky syllable. “I… I need to talk to you. It’s something.”
Wen Zenian nodded calmly. “Alright. I’ll let you know the time and place.”
“Actually… it’s pretty urgent.”
Wen Zenian nodded again. “I understand.”
She picked up her empty plate, said “Excuse me” to Qi Xiao, and walked away.
Qi Xiao took a deep breath and returned to her table.
Ju Mengya asked, “Who were you reporting?”
Qi Xiao blinked dumbly. “Huh?”
“You charged over to Gwyneth like you were on a mission.”
Qi Xiao picked up her utensils, pausing for a beat. “I want a raise!”
Qi Xiao worried Wen Zenian might send an assistant to relay the message or summon her to the office.
That wouldn’t do at all! Too clinical a setting—how could anyone get emotional there?
Back in her dorm, she paced in circles like an ostrich until late into the night, but no one contacted her.
Her legs ached from the pacing when her phone finally buzzed.
Wen Zenian’s voice came low over the line, catching Qi Xiao off guard. “Are you free now? Meet me at the coastline.”
“Yes!”
She knew that spot well—not the hotel’s public beach, but the restricted stretch further out. Meng Ning used to come here every night for walks or night swims; Qi Xiao had tagged along plenty of times, always fretting that she’d drown.
She grabbed her phone and bolted for the coastline.
Wen Zenian was still in the uniform from dinner, the metal waist chain accentuating her slender waist. Arms folded, she gazed out at the sea, occasionally tucking back a strand of hair tousled by the wind.
Qi Xiao thought: She looks like a movie poster.
