“Cara.”
Her colleague Zou Min came over to fetch Meng Ning. “Meeting time.”
“Good.” Meng Ning tucked away the record book she’d just finished filling, stood up, and said, “Coming.”
Ever since starting at Xihua Hotel, the bankruptcy she’d feared never came to pass. The pay wasn’t much, but it was steady. She lived in the staff dorms, ate at the staff cafeteria, and barely spent a dime. Every month, she sent a punctual transfer to Wen Zenian.
More than a year had passed, the seasons turning full circle. Once she got this month’s salary, she’d be able to pay off the last bit owed to Wen Zenian.
Today’s meeting was all about staff etiquette.
Zou Min leaned in close to whisper in Meng Ning’s ear. “Heard there’s some investor coming soon.”
“The hotel’s getting sold off?”
“Nah, nothing that drastic. Just shares changing hands or whatever. Us grunts down here don’t get it anyway.”
“Who’s this person, anyway?” Truth be told, Meng Ning didn’t have a great impression of the investors she’d seen at the C Hotel. The memory of that middle-aged man’s hand on her shoulder still turned her stomach.
“No clue. Super mysterious. Business dealings like that are always hush-hush.”
After the meeting broke up, Meng Ning and Zou Min headed off to clean the swimming pool. The major deep cleans were handled by another team, but the daily maintenance fell to their patrol squad.
Meng Ning had rushed straight from the meeting, so she was still wearing the black one-piece swimsuit underneath. Over it, she’d thrown on sweatpants and a tracksuit. Now she gripped a mop, scrubbing along the pool’s edge. She was starting to feel a little warm, so she unzipped the tracksuit halfway. The swimsuit’s neckline traced a gentle crescent beneath her collarbone.
Zou Min leaned on her mop, watching her with a grin.
Meng Ning flashed a smile back. “What?”
“Mm-hmm.” Zou Min said, “Let’s slack off for a bit.”
“Sure.” Meng Ning wasn’t annoyed. A hint of amusement lingered in her eyes as she kept mopping alone.
Since starting, Meng Ning had been paired with Zou Min more than anyone, so the two had grown pretty close. Meng Ning’s features had a cool edge to them—kind of standoffish at first glance—but once you got to know her, she was easygoing. She’d join them for group meals and chats without hesitation.
Right now, Meng Ning mopping the floor was a sight that lifted the spirits. A sliver of sunlight filtered through the window, turning the scene into something out of a J-pop movie poster.
“Cara.”
Zou Min smirked inwardly: Here we go again.
It was Xu Xuan from sales, hands clasped behind her back in her uniform skirt suit and pencil skirt, nylons neatly in place. She slowed her steps, greeting Zou Min with equal politeness. “Jenny.”
Zou Min caught her sly little smile and felt a touch embarrassed.
She had that cat-like face—sly upturned eyes and brows—yet she was the type to blush at the drop of a hat.
How she managed sales was anyone’s guess.
Xu Xuan had graduated college not long ago, and at just over twenty, she always came across as bright and pure. Hands still behind her back, she drawled to Zou Min, “My Mid-Autumn mooncake sales were pretty good this year. Snagged a bonus. Dinner’s on me—you two in?”
“Oh?” Zou Min dragged out the syllable. “Us, huh?”
Xu Xuan’s ears turned pink.
Zou Min grinned and turned to Meng Ning for her. “She’s treating us to dinner. You going?”
Xu Xuan seemed to be talking only to Zou Min the whole time, not even glancing at Meng Ning. “A few folks from my department too. Group thing.”
Meng Ning said, “Pass.”
Only then did Xu Xuan whip her head around, glaring faintly. “Why not?”
She’d get shy one second, then prickly the next—stubborn as could be.
Meng Ning paused her mopping, dead serious. “Told you a bunch of times already. Our elements clash.”
That whole spiel of hers about “that’s why you always lose at games” didn’t faze Xu Xuan—she didn’t even play.
Or rather, it worked on strangers, but fell flat with anyone she knew even a little.
Most people would’ve shot back half-jokingly, “What, those buddha beads on your wrist let you fool anyone?”
But Xu Xuan replied with perfect sincerity, “I’m not scared.”
Meng Ning’s lips curved.
Xu Xuan glared some more. She swung her mop and planted a hand on her hip. “Feet, move.”
Xu Xuan shifted aside, and Meng Ning added, “Okay, you can go now.”
“Yay!” Xu Xuan lit up. “Yay, yay!”
Hands behind her back again, she spun on her heel. When she waved bye to Zou Min, she must’ve realized her steps were too bouncy, so she deliberately slowed down after.
Zou Min found it hilarious. Once Xu Xuan was gone, she chatted idly with Meng Ning. “So many people chasing you—how do you turn them all down?”
Meng Ning was gorgeous and turned heads. Plenty had pursued her since she started at Xihua Hotel. She never reciprocated, though, so the suitors eventually thinned out.
People would just say, “That Meng Ning from the swimming pool patrol team.”
And they’d nod knowingly. “Oh, that Meng Ning.”
Meng Ning told Zou Min, “I ran the numbers. Our elements all clash.”
“Oh, come on.” Zou Min was a Pei City local, her accent warm and familiar to Meng Ning—like a reminder of Qi Xiao back south.
Xu Xuan wasn’t really one of the pursuers. She’d never made a move; she just kept gravitating toward Meng Ning.
For Meng Ning, it wasn’t like she felt zero spark—that’d be playing too coy. Adult flirtations were like that: faint and fleeting, not always leading anywhere. With Xu Xuan not saying anything outright, Meng Ning couldn’t push it either. Colleagues and all, they kept to a rhythm of about eight invites from Xu Xuan to one yes from her.
Zou Min wasn’t buying her dodge, so Meng Ning tried another. “No spark.”
“So what type are you into?”
“Sister types.” Meng Ning made it up. “I like the mature sister vibe.”
Three days later, Meng Ning collected her monthly paycheck.
She usually just wired it straight to Wen Zenian via mobile banking. She wasn’t even sure if Wen Zenian still checked that domestic card. Repaying the debt over a year might amount to pocket change for her—a single meal, maybe.
Wen Zenian seemed so poised and refined, but deep down, she was ruthlessly decisive.
Like Meng Ning said, she’d waited ages, poured her heart into hoping Meng Ning would take that step. But when Meng Ning hesitated, she cut it off.
The transfers were their last remaining thread. Sometimes Meng Ning felt like that card—maybe discarded by Wen Zenian—was her little secret confessional.
She poured in feelings she couldn’t voice, like mailing a blank letter.
Safe, because no reply would come.
For this final payment to Wen Zenian, she decided against the app. She’d do it in person at the bank teller.
It was kind of silly. Now that she had a job and steady cash, she wasn’t some broke newbie starting over in the game of life. Suddenly she craved a touch of ritual.
Not that it was much of one.
Just a modest branch lobby, three ATMs out front, a uniformed security guard posted nearby. She joined the line. Ahead of her was a girl in glasses and a long skirt, chattering on the phone with her mom about her bonus.
Meng Ning’s turn.
No bank card needed these days—just your phone number. It wasn’t much different from the app. But when the confirmation screen popped up, she caught her reflection in its faint blue glow.
Her finger hovered, then tapped “Confirm.”
Being debt-free wasn’t the weight lifting off her shoulders she’d imagined. It was a quiet melancholy. As if, no matter where Wen Zenian was in the world, there’d always been a fine thread from her slender fingers, dangling at the nape of Meng Ning’s neck.
With that tap, it snapped.
Meng Ning stepped out of the bank. The northern UV was harsh; the autumn sun dazzled her eyes.
Street vendors hawked roasted chestnuts, their scent mingling with osmanthus to scream classic fall. She bought half a jin, off duty today with no rush back to the hotel. She settled on a bench by the road.
No chill from rain yet—the sky was a crisp blue, perfect crisp autumn weather.
Meng Ning thought, This doesn’t feel right.
Not the vibe for bidding farewell to the past.
And why half a jin of chestnuts? Her fingers were getting sticky, too sweet and glutinous by half.
Those days on C Sea Island felt unreal now. Back then, she’d been a mess, masking her inner hurt with calm and amiability. Now she’d emerged from that endless summer into a fresh new fall.
But where was Wen Zenian?
Thinking of her made any “goodbye” to those days stick in Meng Ning’s throat. She stood and wandered to the moat, watching old men fish.
“Hey-ho!” one bellowed heartily.
Meng Ning: …
So much for a poignant farewell vibe.
She lingered until dusk before heading back. The season had everyone too upbeat—kite flyers, couples, kids with candied hawthorns smearing her clothes.
Passing a gastro-pub, its warm yellow lights finally evoked deep autumn.
Meng Ning glanced through the window at the dangling projection screen.
Paris Night Traveler was playing.
She pushed open the door, jingling the wind chimes overhead, and went in.
Couldn’t not order a drink, right? Seventy-eight bucks a pop—pricey. Freaked her out. After paying off Wen Zenian, she had three hundred left total. Fingers crossed for no extra expenses this month.
Familiar scenes flowed across the pale screen, even though Wen Zenian was surely long gone from Paris by now.
Her schedule was packed. After optimizing the Paris C Hotel, who knew which city she was tackling next.
That seventy-eight-yuan drink hit different—or maybe Meng Ning just hadn’t had one in ages. Her ears warmed, her head swam.
She pulled out her phone, cradled it, then pinched it between thumb and forefinger, tapping it lightly on the table.
Opened Wen Zenian’s WeChat.
Wen Zenian probably wasn’t checking this domestic number anymore. With the domestic C Hotel project done, no reason to return. Meng Ning felt a twinge; maybe send something.
The more she had to say…
The less she knew what to say.
After mulling, Meng Ning sent a single period: “.”
It was her way of punctuating those hazy, dreamlike days—like a full stop to wrap it up. Only then could she move forward.
This tiny ritual, she wanted to share it with Wen Zenian, wherever she was.
A month later, Meng Ning and Zou Min were cleaning the pool again.
Zou Min leaned in conspiratorially. “Heard the investor’s here. A super pretty woman with real poise.”
“Yeah?”
Meng Ning wondered how pretty she could be.
The most stunning sight of her life? Fireworks filling the sky as someone delicately raised a pale wrist, slipping off the black lace mask over her eyes— peerless allure.
But Zou Min was thrilled. “You have no idea, they were saying…”
The two of them returned their cleaning tools and headed out of the main building together. Zou Min chatted with her the whole way.
After renovations, the Xihua Hotel had turned one of its old revolving glass doors into the current employee passageway.
Meng Ning listened to Zou Min’s description and smiled, teasing, “I don’t buy it. How pretty could she be? Don’t tell me it’s just money piled on top.”
Just then, Zou Min nudged her arm, signaling her to hush.
