The cup in his hand gradually cooled. Zhou Beiming lifted it once more to Su Nian’s lips. “Try again.”
Su Nian leaned forward and took a sip. Warmth spread through her it was perfect. She held the cup with both hands. Zhou Beiming did not let go; she held the upper half, while his hand rested beneath theirs, warm and cool touching.
When she finished the sweet drink, she went to the bedroom to sleep. There was only one bed no choice. She lay tossing and turning. Oddly, with nothing expected of her, she found sleep hard to come by. In the past, her visits here had always been… otherwise. She lay flat on her back, staring at the ceiling and counting sheep.
In the study, Zhou Beiming sat in a late-night video conference. An overseas acquisition had hit serious trouble. Barely one day of “cohabitation,” and already he was to depart on business. He grew tired of the meeting. “That is all. We shall resume tomorrow.” He ended the call abruptly, leaving a row of stunned executives staring at their screens. Zhou Beiming snapped his laptop shut.
His phone began vibrating. Huo Jiuyan. He answered.
“Come out drinking!” Huo Jiuyan’s voice brimmed with mischief. “Fresh faces models so tender they positively glisten.”
Zhou Beiming stood up. “Busy.”
“Busy tending to your lady’s monthly visit?” Huo Jiuyan teased.
“Go to hell,” Zhou Beiming retorted. “And stop calling this late at night.”
Undeterred, Huo Jiuyan pressed on. “What are you doing home all alone? Playing with your own two hands? Or is she entertaining you despite the circumstances?”
“Must you run your mouth endlessly?” Zhou Beiming’s tone turned icy. “Since you have so much free time… you shall accompany me abroad on business tomorrow.”
Huo Jiuyan fell silent. If only I’d kept my mouth shut. He accepted his fate, then added more seriously: “It’s Yuling’s birthday today. Are you truly certain you won’t come?”
Zhou Beiming’s expression remained unreadable. Jiang Yuling had mentioned it once. He had been busy and forgotten. He had never intended to attend he knew exactly where her hopes lay. “It is hardly an eightieth-birthday celebration,” Zhou Beiming said dismissively.
“We’re friends,” Huo Jiuyan reasoned. “Showing up won’t kill you.”
“I’m busy looking after my rabbit,” Zhou Beiming replied. “If I neglect her, I’m the one who loses something vital.”
The call ended.
Elsewhere, at the club, Huo Jiuyan stared at his phone. “Refuses to come… and uses the most ridiculous excuses.”
Jiang Yuling approached. “Is Brother Beiming coming?” She was Jiang Yun’s cousin they had all grown up together. Her fondness for Zhou Beiming was no secret.
Huo Jiuyan shook his head. “Still in meetings, it seems.”
Disappointment flickered in her eyes, quickly masked by a gentle smile. “It’s quite all right. He is always so busy.”
Huo Jiuyan offered comfort. “Brother Beiming’s marriage must be an alliance of equals. Your chance will come.” He patted her shoulder. “Pay no mind to rumors. Beiming makes plenty of noise, yet acts on very little. These past two years especially he goes straight home after work. No one is welcome there. Even we rarely visit. Certainly no other woman has set foot inside.” He walked away.
Jiang Yuling’s smile faded. All these years, and still he remained indifferent. Seeing the news last night had settled a dread in her heart if she did not act soon, Zhou Beiming would belong to another. She withdrew an exquisite jade pendant. She had gone to great lengths to obtain it. She only wondered… whether the Zhou family still honored the old betrothal it represented.
Back in the apartment bedroom, Su Nian and Zhou Beiming lay side by side beneath the covers, staring at one another. The previous night she had been exhausted and fallen asleep the moment he stepped out of the shower. Tonight she was wide awake. Lying beside him doing nothing at all felt strangely awkward.
Zhou Beiming’s arm curled around her waist. He could feel her entire body tense. He drew her closer into his embrace. “Are you made of wood?”
Su Nian’s chin rested against his firm chest. “I… don’t sleep well in strange beds,” she mumbled.
“Strange indeed,” Zhou Beiming murmured, looking down at her with half-lidded amusement. “Last night you slept like a piglet. I climbed into bed and you stirred not once.”
“Last night was very late,” Su Nian replied softly. “I was simply exhausted.”
Zhou Beiming pinched her cheek. “Then stay awake a while longer. Talk to me.”
Talk about what? Su Nian remained silent.
“Tell me a story,” he commanded, reclining like an emperor awaiting entertainment.
Su Nian rolled her eyes. “I don’t know any stories.”
“Fail to tell one… and you shall stand on your head as punishment.” He grinned, thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.
Su Nian was currently indisposed. Stand on my head? She wracked her brain. “Once there was a couple who lived in a small house. One night the wife awoke and looked out the window. There she saw a tiny red foot… just one. She woke her husband. And the red foot vanished instantly…”
Zhou Beiming cut in skeptically. “At night? How did she know it was red? Does she carry a flashlight in her eyes?”
Su Nian stared at him, wordless. That ghost story of the red foot had haunted her childhood. And he had just reduced it to absurdity. “That is simply how Granny Qu told it,” she defended. “If you wish to know how she saw it… ask her yourself at Qingming Festival when she visits you in your dreams.”
Before she turned three, her parents had been too busy to care for her; her grandparents raised her. They passed away in quick succession. She was then entrusted to Granny Qu, their kindly widowed neighbor, who treated her like her own granddaughter. Every summer evening, Granny Qu would fan her and tell stories ghost stories until she fell asleep. Granny Qu had passed away the year Su Nian started university.
Zhou Beiming chuckled low in his throat, his tone turning mock-threatening. “If your Granny Qu fails to visit me this Qingming… I shall bury you beside her grave myself.” His voice was soft, barely a whisper.
Su Nian paid him no mind. “Do you wish to hear more, or not?”
“Go on,” he said quietly, watching her.
Su Nian told several more ghost stories. Zhou Beiming kept interrupting with rational, deadpan questions that stripped every tale of its horror. She felt utterly unaccomplished. The stories grew dull, and the dullness made her drowsy. When she awoke the next morning, she could not even recall falling asleep.
Beside her, the bed was empty. Zhou Beiming had risen earlier. She washed up and stepped out of the bedroom. A woman in her forties was tidying the living room. A lavish breakfast spread across the table.
The woman turned with a warm smile. “Miss Su… I am Aunt Zhang. I tended to the Young Master at the family estate. He departs on business today likely several days. He asked me to come and look after you.”
Aunt Zhang? Su Nian thought of the overly sweet black ginger syrup. She offered a polite nod. “Hello.” She needed no looking after, yet she said nothing.
Aunt Zhang gestured to the table. “Breakfast is ready. Please eat while warm.”
It looked beautifully prepared. Su Nian took a bite and was pleasantly surprised delicate, savory, refined. Nothing like the sludge from the estate. After breakfast, Aunt Zhang brought out the familiar pink insulated container from the kitchen. “The Young Master instructed this be prepared for you.”
Su Nian cautiously lifted the lid. Simple, wholesome home cooking. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief and prepared to leave. Whatever the Old Master had sent the previous day… had been altogether too extravagant.