An indescribable restlessness surged within Xi Yu. He turned around, returned to his desk, and pressed the intercom.
“Assistant Lin, come in for a moment.”
The door soon opened, and Assistant Lin walked in, still holding a notebook.
“The wedding date is set for the eighteenth of next month,” Xi Yu said. “Keep an eye on the venue, invitations, and procedures. Give the Wen family whatever they want—don’t give them any reason to find fault.”
Assistant Lin nodded. “Understood.”
“Also,” Xi Yu paused, “regarding Wen Yining, you can contact her directly. Don’t let her come to me, and don’t make me go to her.”
Assistant Lin nodded again and turned to leave.
“Wait.”
Assistant Lin stopped.
Xi Yu looked at the quarterly report that had already been closed on the desk and fell silent for a moment.
“When she signed the contract, aside from smiling and saying thank you, did she have any other reaction?”
Assistant Lin thought back once more. “No. She signed as soon as she finished reading the terms. The whole process took less than five minutes.”
Xi Yu nodded.
Assistant Lin waited a moment, confirming there were no further questions, then turned and left the office.
Xi Yu sat back in his chair, pulled the quarterly report toward him, and this time, he finally focused on it.
One year.
Three hundred and sixty-five days.
She would cooperate, and he would cooperate.
Mutual benefit, no debts owed.
∴*****
The wedding was scheduled for two weeks later, but Wen Yining didn’t expect she would see Xi Yu again before then.
That evening, Tangtang invited her out for a drink.
“I’ll wait for you at the usual place,” Tangtang’s voice sounded muffled over the phone, clearly not in a good state.
The Wen family had a curfew—no one was allowed out after 11 p.m., though this rule applied only to Wen Yining.
As Mother Wen put it, what kind of decent girl goes out to fool around late at night?
Wen Yining merely listened to such remarks.
Since coming of age and mastering the art of sneaking out, no one could stop her!
Tangtang was in a bad mood, and as her friend, Wen Yining naturally had to be by her side.
“Tangtang, wait for me to climb over the wall—I’ll be right there.”
Tangtang replied, “Be careful!”
When Wen Yining arrived, Tangtang had already downed two drinks. Three empty glasses sat on the table in front of her, and she was slumped over the bar, her hair cascading over her shoulders.
“What’s wrong, Tangtang?” Wen Yining sat down beside her, gently tucking Tangtang’s stray hair behind her ear.
Tangtang lifted her head, her eyes red, with a bit of smudged mascara under her lower lashes, making it look like she had been crying.
“Zhao Mingyuan broke up with me.”
Wen Yining was taken aback.
Zhao Mingyuan was Tangtang’s boyfriend of three years. Wen Yining had met him a few times—tall and slender, wearing glasses, speaking softly and gently. He didn’t seem like the type to initiate a breakup.
“Why?”
Tangtang took another gulp from her glass, her voice still muffled. “He said his family doesn’t approve. They think my family’s background is too ordinary. His parents want him to find someone of equal social standing.”
Wen Yining didn’t say anything. She reached for the bottle in front of Tangtang and poured herself a glass.
“Three years,” Tangtang’s voice began to tremble. “He says his family doesn’t approve now? What was he doing all this time? Didn’t he know my family’s background was ordinary three years ago?”
Wen Yining didn’t know how to comfort her. She raised her glass and clinked it against Tangtang’s, producing a crisp sound.
“Let’s drink.”
All the words were in the wine.
Each of them carried their own sorrows in their hearts.
Tangtang lifted her glass and took a large gulp of wine. As she set the cup down, she suddenly turned to look at Wen Yining, her eyes clouded with drunkenness and an indescribable emotion.
“Don’t talk about me,” Tangtang said. “Let’s talk about you.”
“What is there to say about me?”
“You and Xi Yu.” Tangtang lowered her voice, but her tone was clearly growing more animated. “When the news broke, I almost dropped my phone. Wen Yining, when did you get involved with Xi Yu? How come I didn’t know anything about it?”
Wen Yining took a sip of wine and didn’t respond.
“Tell me the truth,” Tangtang leaned in, her voice dropping even lower. “How was the battle that night?”
Wen Yining choked on her wine, coughing twice as the tips of her ears slowly turned red.
“I don’t remember,” she said.
Tangtang’s eyes widened. “You don’t remember? Were you that drunk?”
Wen Yining set down her glass, her fingers tracing the rim twice.
She didn’t want to tell Tangtang about the juice, about what Mother Wen had done, or about the arranged marriage.
Explaining all that would take too long and was too heavy. Tangtang was already unhappy, and she didn’t want to add to her troubles.
“That night, someone drugged me,” she finally explained briefly, her tone flat, as if discussing something unrelated to herself. “I can’t remember anything.”
Tangtang’s expression shifted from curiosity to shock, from shock to anger, and then to something Wen Yining couldn’t quite decipher.
“Who was the bastard that did it?” Tangtang’s voice turned cold.
Wen Yining shook her head and didn’t answer.
Tangtang stared at her for a few seconds, likely reading something from her expression, and didn’t press further.
She simply picked up her glass and clinked it against Wen Yining’s.
“So what are you going to do now? Really get married?”
Wen Yining nodded.
“Do you like him?”
Wen Yining thought about the question.
Like?
She wasn’t even familiar with Xi Yu. In fact, she knew almost nothing about him.
She only knew he was of noble status, wealthy, and disliked women getting close to him.
But after that night, her feelings toward him had become complicated.
It was something indescribable, like an invisible thread tying her to him, whether she wanted it or not.
Something akin to… fate.
As if meeting Xi Yu was destined.
“I don’t dislike him,” she finally said.
Tangtang looked at her and suddenly smiled, a knowing smile that carried the wisdom of someone who had been through it all.
“You know, I used to think I didn’t dislike Zhao Mingyuan either. Then it turned into liking, and later into not being able to live without him.” Tangtang paused, taking a sip from her glass. “And then… it turned into what it is now.”
Wen Yining didn’t respond.
The two drank in silence for a while until Tangtang’s phone rang.
She glanced at the screen, and her expression instantly changed.
“Who is it?” Wen Yining asked.
Tangtang didn’t answer, simply hanging up the call.
The screen lit up again.
Tangtang hung up again.
When it rang for the third time, Tangtang answered, her voice cold enough to freeze. “Why are you calling?”
Whatever was said on the other end, Tangtang’s eyes instantly reddened, but she bit her lip and didn’t utter a word. After listening for a few seconds, she hung up.
“Zhao Mingyuan?” Wen Yining asked.
Tangtang didn’t answer. She picked up her glass and downed the drink in one gulp, her hand trembling as she set the glass down.
In less than twenty minutes, Zhao Mingyuan appeared at the entrance of the bar.
He was wearing a dark blue thin jacket, his hair slightly tousled by the wind, and his glasses were fogged up.
He stood at the door, scanning the room, and upon spotting Tangtang and Wen Yining, he quickly walked over.
“Tangtang,” he said, sitting down beside her and reaching out to take her hand.
Tangtang jerked her hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Tangtang, listen to me,” Zhao Mingyuan’s voice carried a cautious, almost pleading tone. “I didn’t really want to break up with you. It’s my mom, she…”
“You do whatever your mom says?” Tangtang turned to look at him, her eyes red but tearless. “If your mom tells you to break up, you break up. What does that make me to you?”
Zhao Mingyuan opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words.
“It’s been three years, Zhao Mingyuan,” Tangtang’s voice began to tremble. “We’ve been together for three years. If your mom didn’t agree, why didn’t you say something sooner? Why now? Do you think I’m holding you back from finding someone more suitable?”
“No, Tangtang, it’s not like that,” Zhao Mingyuan grew anxious, reaching out to grab her wrist. “I just want to tell you, I don’t want to break up. I’ll go back and talk to my mom again. Just give me a little more time.”
“Talk about what?” Tangtang shook off his hand. “We’ve been talking for three years. What have you accomplished? Your mom doesn’t agree, and all you ever say is ‘let’s talk again.’ What’s the point of talking if nothing ever changes?”
Zhao Mingyuan’s face flushed and paled in turns under her words. His lips trembled slightly, but no sound came out.
Tangtang stood up, her chair sliding back half an inch as she moved.
She glanced at Zhao Mingyuan, her eyes filled with anger, hurt, and an indescribable weariness.
“I’m going to the restroom.”
She turned and walked away, her high heels clicking rapidly and urgently against the floor until the sound faded at the end of the hallway.
Zhao Mingyuan remained seated, head bowed, shoulders slumped, like a large dog drenched in water.
After a few seconds of silence, he looked up at Wen Yining.
“Yining,” his voice was hoarse, “can you talk to Tangtang for me?”
Wen Yining held her glass, saying nothing.
“I really don’t want to break up,” Zhao Mingyuan leaned forward, his tone carrying a near-pleading quality. “It’s my mom, you know how she is. Whatever she says goes, and I can’t convince her right away. But I don’t want to leave Tangtang. Please, talk to her, ask her to give me a little more time…”
As he spoke, he reached out and grabbed Wen Yining’s wrist.
The gesture wasn’t rough, but it was urgent, as if he feared she might run away too.
Wen Yining glanced down at his hand gripping her wrist and frowned.
“Let go first.”
“I’ll let go if you promise to talk to her for me,” Zhao Mingyuan’s voice held an uncomfortable stubbornness.
“Zhao Mingyuan, let go.” Wen Yining’s voice dropped half a tone.