If we can't be lovers, let's be friends.
That was just a polite parting phrase after the breakup.
Now he was using it as a license, wielding it with ease.
Huang Ling worked at a hotel and had plenty of experience dealing with people. She keenly sensed Liang Wenpei's mood—somewhat angry, somewhat resentful.
Huang Ling had no idea what he was angry about. Back then, the breakup texts had been sent almost simultaneously by both of them. Now he was making her look like the heartless one—what right did he have to be angry?
When Luo Shuang returned with her number ticket, Wen Hanchi was following behind her.
Wen Hanchi greeted Huang Ling: "Yesterday I heard Old Liang say you were back. I thought he was dreaming again."
At first listen, there was nothing strange about the words, but on closer thought, they carried a deeper meaning. As a lawyer, he had an extremely keen sense for what people said.
Wen Hanchi felt a heavy weight land on his instep—someone had stomped hard on his foot.
"My foot!"
Seeing Wen Hanchi suddenly grimace and cry out in pain, curling up like a shrimp, Huang Ling instinctively looked under the table. There was nothing there.
Liang Wenpei showed not a trace of guilt: "He's had ingrown toenail problems lately."
Luo Shuang kicked a man when he was down: "Has heaven finally opened its eyes?"
Wen Hanchi hissed: "Can't we two be like them—stay good friends after breaking up?"
The two people called out exchanged a knowing glance, then, as if sick of the sight of each other, simultaneously looked away.
Luo Shuang rolled her eyes at him without responding. Wen Hanchi awkwardly shuffled his chair, moving away from Liang Wenpei: "How's my son doing? Let me go see my son in a bit."
His "son" referred to the West Highland White Terrier that was now in Luo Shuang's care.
Back then, as a lawyer-in-training, Wen Hanchi had lost custody of Dashun, which had once been considered the shame of Xunchuan University's law department.
When they broke up, it was agreed that although the dog went to Luo Shuang, she couldn't refuse Wen Hanchi's visitation rights. Now, Luo Shuang couldn't be bothered with him and just gave a perfunctory "oh." Just then, the counter called their number, and Luo Shuang got up to pick up the food.
This place's cold noodles and burgers were both quite good.
Back in school, she'd loved eating here. After going abroad, she'd always see all kinds of food in Liang Wenpei's posts, but what Huang Ling craved most was still cold noodles and burgers.
After finishing the cold noodles, Wen Hanchi let out a satisfied burp without caring about appearances: "How did you two get here?"
"Electric scooter." Luo Shuang took out a tissue to wipe her mouth. Wen Hanchi, with practiced familiarity, snatched it and tore it in half, handing the remaining half back to Luo Shuang.
Wen Hanchi stood up: "Then you take me to see my son. Old Liang drove here—Huang Ling, you ride with him."
With that, Luo Shuang shot him a glare. This kind of move to create alone time for the two of them was obvious to anyone with eyes. Wen Hanchi was glared at and knew Luo Shuang had seen through his deliberate scheming, but he refused to get up. He simply reached out and grabbed her, pulling her along.
After dragging her out of the shop, Wen Hanchi looked around: "Where's the scooter?"
Luo Shuang looked at him with contempt: "What did Liang Wenpei promise you?"
Wen Hanchi spotted the electric scooter under the camphor tree—the one that had also been "awarded" to Luo Shuang in the breakup. He pulled her over, took a helmet from the basket, and without a word plopped it onto Luo Shuang's head: "He hasn't promised anything yet. When I make a big demand, I'll split it with you."
"Selling out your friend—I'm not interested." Luo Shuang said, raising her pinky at him in contempt.
Wen Hanchi took Luo Shuang's keys, got on the scooter, and patted the back seat just like he had when they were dating: "Alright, Saintess, get on."
By the time they left, Huang Ling had mostly finished eating too. The cold noodles were on the spicier side—appetizing but a bit harsh on the stomach.
Through the glass wall of the shop, she watched Wen Hanchi skillfully drive the electric scooter away with Luo Shuang on the back.
The two outside had already left, but her gaze still lingered in the direction they'd gone, her hand propping up her chin: "That was way too obvious."
Although it was a favor he appreciated, as the beneficiary, Liang Wenpei had to agree with Huang Ling's assessment.
But even though he agreed inwardly, he still kept up his stubborn front: "What? You think I put him up to it?"
Huang Ling lazily withdrew her gaze: "I wouldn't dare slander a lawyer."
It sounded sarcastic.
Today's cold noodles were a bit spicy, and her lips were slightly red. Liang Wenpei's gaze unconsciously fell on her lips, then he guiltily looked away.
Liang Wenpei's car was parked near the basketball court nearby. Before coming, he and Wen Hanchi had been playing basketball in the area.
The camphor trees lining the street were lush and green. The wind blowing against them was damp and muggy—completely different from the friendly outdoor conditions in London at this time.
The shops along the street occasionally let out puffs of air-conditioned coolness, but it was nowhere near enough to beat the heat.
Huang Ling had spent several years abroad, and her tolerance for spicy food had declined significantly.
Huang Ling: "I'm going to buy a bottle of water."
There were plenty of convenience stores nearby. Huang Ling walked with purpose straight to the freezer section and bought a yogurt. Out of politeness, she asked Liang Wenpei.
"Do you want one?"
The moment she asked, she regretted it. Sure enough, Liang Wenpei stood in front of the freezer packed with various drinks, his gaze sweeping back and forth, hesitating and wavering.
His fear of choosing hadn't changed one bit after all these years.
Huang Ling reached out and grabbed a bottle of mineral water, closed the freezer door, and without giving Liang Wenpei a second chance to choose, pushed him toward the counter to pay.
After leaving the store, Liang Wenpei, being tall, took long strides, and Huang Ling fell two steps behind him.
Looking up at him against the streetlight, his figure was graceful—indeed the kind of man someone would divorce to marry.
"What are you looking at?"
It was as if he had eyes in the back of his head.
"Nothing." Huang Ling withdrew her gaze and asked casually, "How is Miss Song?"
Liang Wenpei was taken aback, as if he couldn't remember who she was talking about. It took him a moment before he answered, "In the hospital. Don't know."
"Isn't she your…" Huang Ling paused, thinking of the rumors at the hotel, but she couldn't say that directly, so she found a tactful and fitting term, "…client?"
"I didn't sign a contract of indenture with her. I'm only responsible for helping her with the divorce. The rest has nothing to do with me." As Liang Wenpei spoke, his expression suddenly darkened, looking as if he was angry.
As if someone had stepped on his tail, he turned his head away sulkily and stopped talking, striding off toward the parking lot.
How bizarre.
When Liang Wenpei dropped Huang Ling off downstairs at the apartment Luo Shuang rented, Huang Ling didn't invite him up. She got out of the car and went upstairs to rest.
Dashun wasn't there.
Luo Shuang said Wen Hanchi had taken the dog out for a walk.
Today's liangpi was spicy. Spicy food whets the appetite, but it also burns the stomach. Huang Ling boiled some water. Luo Shuang followed her to the kitchen doorway, leaning lazily against the doorframe: "How are things between you and Liang Wenpei?"
"How would they be?" Huang Ling played dumb.
Luo Shuang teased: "An old friend you haven't seen in four years—aren't you going to catch up?"
Although she had been abroad for four years, she and Liang Wenpei had actually only been apart for three years.
In July, a year after she'd been in London, Liang Wenpei had brought his younger sister on a trip abroad and passed through England on the way. They'd met once.
They'd been broken up for over a year by then. Perhaps because she'd been alone in a foreign land for too long, seeing him that time felt especially warm. The two of them really did act like old friends.
That city was prone to showers, yet the days he visited happened to have beautiful weather.
They shared a serving of fish and chips by the Thames, walked from Hyde Park to the Millennium Bridge.
On the last day, they went to Regent Street. His flight left in the early morning, and London's night fell late. She had class the next day. She said she'd take one last stroll and then head back, but they walked the street twice without ever saying goodbye.
He asked her how she was doing in London.
In the neon lights of Regent Street, she thought she saw tears hidden in his eyes.
She stubbornly said she was doing great.
He nodded and said, "That's good."
Huang Ling couldn't figure it out either. Back then, they'd managed to be friends after the breakup. How was it that three years later, he was so sharp-tongued and hostile?
Huang Ling filled the kettle halfway and turned off the tap, shrugging: "We had a fight."
"Huh?"
Huang Ling rubbed her lower back: "Who knows what bug got up his ass. Are you showering? If not, I'm going first."
By the time Huang Ling came out of the shower, Luo Shuang was lying on the sofa scrolling through her phone. Huang Ling glanced around the room: "Dashun still isn't back?"
That remark jogged Luo Shuang's memory. She checked the time—an hour had already passed.
"Damn, Wen Hanchi isn't trying to steal my dog, is he?" Luo Shuang sat up, grabbed her phone, and dialed Wen Hanchi's number. "Bastard!"
That night, Wen Hanchi still didn't bring the dog back.
The next day when Huang Ling went to work, Luo Shuang was sporting two dark circles under her eyes, utterly dejected.
The moment Huang Ling arrived at the hotel, she was swamped with work. There had been no emergencies the night before. After checking the room status system, Huang Ling held a pre-shift meeting with the entire department, briefly went over the key points for the day, and then went on her inspection rounds.
She spot-checked two rooms and found issues in both, more or less. Huang Ling had no choice but to inspect every single room.
After having the housekeeping staff redo the rooms, Huang Ling went to the front desk to verify the room status. By the time she finished, it was almost noon. Sun Qi from the front desk called out to Huang Ling and told her in a mysterious tone that the guest from room 2608 who had attempted suicide was back.
Huang Ling didn't react much upon hearing this. She simply told Sun Qi matter-of-factly: "Sister Sun, don't sell the rooms on the seventh, tenth, and fourteenth floors for now. Prioritize selling the other floors. Housekeeping is redoing those floors, and I'll need to check them again in a bit."
Seeing Huang Ling acting like a robot, all business, Sun Qi had no outlet for her gossip. She pursed her lips, thinking Huang Ling was being a killjoy—turning gossip back into work, acting like she was the only one who took her job seriously.
Sun Qi watched Huang Ling walk away, curled her lips, and snorted disdainfully: "A parachuted-in deputy manager, who does she think she's fooling? When Manager Zhao gets back, we'll see how she handles it."
Back at the office, Huang Ling pushed open the door and saw Luo Shuang sitting by her desk, sending a 60-second voice message on her phone—probably about Wen Hanchi still not returning the dog.
Luo Shuang cursed until she was completely spent, and Huang Ling timely handed her a glass of water—chrysanthemum tea, just right for cooling her temper.
"What time is it?"
"Eleven." Huang Ling answered, and just then the earpiece reported that the housekeeping staff had finished cleaning all the rooms that needed re-doing. She picked up her tablet and looked at Luo Shuang. "I'm going to check the rooms. Want me to pack something for you for lunch, or will you go eat yourself?"
Luo Shuang looked like a demon had drained all her vitality: "I'll go myself. I'll head out in a bit—what do you want? I'll order for you first."
"Anything's fine." Having spent several years abroad, Huang Ling had long stopped being picky about food.
Fortunately, there were no issues with the re-cleaning this time. Huang Ling updated the room information in the system before heading to the restaurant.
Finding the food and beverage manager, she asked him to prepare a fruit dessert: "No passion fruit or orange in it."
After eating, Huang Ling took the fruit dessert to room 2608.
The door opened quickly. Song Mingyue's face was still somewhat pale, her wrist wrapped in thick bandages.
Huang Ling offered the fruit dessert: "Hello, I'm Huang Ling from housekeeping. We're honored to have you return and stay with us again. This is a fruit dessert made according to your taste—please let us know if you need anything at any time."
Song Mingyue recognized Huang Ling as the one who had helped stop her bleeding earlier. She seemed to let down her guard, opening the door a little wider.
"Thank you," Song Mingyue said. "I'm sorry you had to see such a frightening scene and that it caused you trouble. I should be the one treating you to something."
As she spoke, she reached into her pockets as if looking for something, then immediately turned and went back into the room.
Huang Ling reached out to hold the door as it began to auto-close. Moments later, she saw Song Mingyue walking back over with her phone.
"I don't have cash on me. Pull up your payment code—I'll transfer you some tips."
Huang Ling waved her hand in refusal: "This is all part of our job. What you paid covers more than just the room—it includes our service."
Song Mingyue had no choice but to let it go.
Back at the office, Luo Shuang was still there.
Still sending voice messages cursing Wen Hanchi.
If not for the fullness in her stomach, Huang Ling would have thought she'd time-traveled back to the busiest part of the morning.
"Where did you go?"
"Delivered some fruit to the guest in 2608." Huang Ling poured herself a cup of chrysanthemum tea and refilled Luo Shuang's cup as well. "Wen Hanchi still won't bring Dashun back?"
"He says his current case is going especially badly, so he wants to take Dashun over for a few days and walk him every day—because walking Dashun brings luck, and luck means smooth sailing." Luo Shuang gritted her teeth. "That bastard. He'll never see Dashun again as long as I live."