The night before they were supposed to meet.
Ban Ban sat on the floor, leaning against the edge of the bed as she flipped through an art book. A copy of The Monets lay open across her knees. Three light, gentle taps sounded on the door.
“Come in.”
Ban Ban froze for a second when Ban Shengwei pushed the door open.
Her dad was wearing his pajamas with an old, frayed cardigan thrown over his shoulders. His hair was a mess, making him look like an old man who had just rolled out of bed.
Ban Shengwei sat down right beside her on the floor. Sitting shoulder to shoulder against the bedframe, neither of them said a word.
After a long quiet moment, Ban Shengwei finally spoke. “Ban Ban, how about we call off tomorrow?”
Ban Ban’s hands stopped turning the pages of the art book.
“I’ll talk to Uncle Wen,” Ban Shengwei said, his voice raspy. “I’ll just tell him you’re feeling unwell. The marriage arrangement—we’ll void it.”
“Dad.” Ban Ban closed the book, tilted her head, and curved her eyes into a smile. “I’m willing.”
“You’re only twenty-one…”
“Twenty-one isn’t that young.” Ban Ban rested her chin on her knees, her voice soft and sweet. “Mom was only in her early thirties when she passed away, and by twenty-one, she was already pregnant with Sister.”
Ban Shengwei swallowed hard.
Ban Ban was silent for a few seconds, her fingers absentmindedly picking at the cover of the art book. “Dad, I know what you’re worrying about. I looked into Wen Ting’an. He’s a bit of a playboy, sure, but he’s not violent. I’ve never heard of him hitting a woman or pulling anything out of line.”
She looked straight into her father’s eyes. “Dad, Sister has Big Brother Xu. They’ve been together for four years, and you’ve seen how good Big Brother Xu is to her.”
Ban Shengwei’s lips moved, but no words came out.
“Uncle Wen brought up the marriage, but he didn’t hold a knife to our throats forcing us.”
“Yet Sister took it to heart. Dad, you know Sister. She hates owing people anything. For the sake of the company, she would step up and say she was willing. She’d feel like it’s her responsibility as the eldest.”
Ban Ban managed a small smile. “But I’m your daughter, too. I can take on responsibility as well. I don’t have anyone I’m in love with anyway. Marrying anyone is the same.”
Without any warning, tears spilled from Ban Shengwei’s eyes. He turned his face away, frantically wiping his cheek with the sleeve of his cardigan.
Looking at his graying temples, Ban Ban suddenly felt a sharp sting in her nose. But she didn’t cry. Instead, she inched closer, hooked her arm through her father’s, and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Dad,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “If you feel bad about this, you and Sister just need to work hard and make a ton of money so I have endless spending cash up North, okay?”
Ban Shengwei sniffled and nodded heavily. “Okay. Dad will work hard. I’ll make a lot of money so our Ban Ban can walk sideways like a crab up North.”
Ban Ban burst out laughing. “Walking sideways is what crabs do.”
Light footsteps echoed from the hallway outside, followed by the soft click of a door closing.
Ban Ru leaned against the hallway wall, one hand pressed tightly over her mouth. It felt as though a clump of cotton was stuck in her throat.
Her little sister—the one who used to trail behind her shouting “Sister, Sister,” crying for half an hour if she took a tiny tumble, and pouting whenever she couldn’t get a piece of candy—when did she grow up to be so sensible?
Ban Ru took a deep breath, forcing the tears back down. Then she turned back to her room, opened her laptop, and reviewed the company’s financial statements from top to bottom all over again.
Early the next morning, Ban Ban stood in front of her wardrobe for twenty minutes.
Finally, she chose a goose-yellow sundress with a round neckline, sleeveless, hitting just above the knees. She tied her hair into a neat topknot in the mirror, revealing her smooth forehead and rounded cheeks.
When Ban Ru walked in, she caught Ban Ban patting toner onto her face.
“That one looks good,” Ban Ru said, leaning against the doorframe to appraise her. “Makes your skin look fair.”
Ban Ban turned around and grinned at her. “Sister, do you think I still have baby fat on my face?”
“I do.” Ban Ru walked over and pinched her cheek. “Baby fat is adorable. Other people would pay to have it.”
“But Wen Ting’an is thirty-three. With his tastes, do you think he’ll think I look like a little kid?”
Ban Ru paused for a fraction of a second, then replied, “If he dares, I’ll fly over there and punch him.”
Ban Ban giggled brightly.
The dinner was booked at a private restaurant by the river in Jiang City. It wasn’t large, but it was refined and elegant.
Ban Shengwei had specifically chosen it, saying he didn’t want a massive spectacle—just two families sitting down for a quiet, peaceful meal.
Wen Henian arrived first, dressed in a navy blue Zhongshan suit, looking full of energy. As soon as he saw Ban Ban, he smiled. “Ban Ban looks so pretty today, the spitting image of her mom when she was young.”
Ban Ban dutifully mumbled, “Hello, Uncle Wen,” and the tips of her ears turned bright red.
Ban Shengwei shot him a sideways glance. “Spare me.”
“Hey, look at you, I’m just telling the truth.”
“Where’s your son?”
The smile froze on Wen Henian’s face for half a second. “His flight… was delayed. Said he’s on the road, almost here.”
Ban Shengwei didn’t press further, inviting everyone to sit down. Tea was served, and Ban Ban held her cup, taking tiny, delicate sips while her eyes darted toward the door every so often.
After waiting for about half an hour, the door pushed open.
When Wen Ting’an walked in, the first word that popped into Ban Ban’s head was “retro-Hong Kong style.”
He wore a black suit jacket without a tie, the top two buttons of his shirt casually undone. His hair was swept straight back, the tapered sides revealing a broad forehead and sharp brow bones. He looked refined, poised, and statuesque.
He was tall, easily pushing six-foot-four. With broad shoulders and long legs, the moment he stepped inside, all the light in the private room seemed to gravitate toward him.
He walked in and nodded first to Wen Henian. “Dad.”
Then he turned to Ban Shengwei, wearing a polite smile and bowing slightly. “Uncle Ban, I’m terribly sorry to have kept you waiting.” His voice was deep and resonant.
Ban Ban noticed that when he smiled, a very faint fan of lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes. They didn’t make him look old; instead, they gave him the easy composure unique to a mature man.
Ban Shengwei waved a hand. “It’s nothing, flights get delayed, can’t be helped. Sit down.”
As Wen Ting’an took his seat, his gaze swept around the room.
It lingered on Ban Ru for a single second—Ban Ban noticed his expression didn’t change, just a routine, polite assessment—and then his eyes landed on her.
The gaze stayed for two seconds.
The corner of his mouth seemed to twitch, curling into an ambiguous, half-there smile.
Ban Ban’s heart gave a heavy thud against her ribs. She hastily lowered her head to pretend to study her teacup, her ears burning as if they were on fire.
Wen Henian introduced them from the side. “This is Ban Ru, Ban Shengwei’s eldest daughter. She helps out at the company, very capable. And this is Ban Ban, the younger one, just graduated.”
“Hello.” Wen Ting’an nodded toward Ban Ru, then turned to Ban Ban. “Ban Ban.”
When he said her name, his voice lifted slightly at the end, as if he were savoring the taste of the words.
Ban Ban glanced up at him, then quickly dropped her gaze. “H-Hello.”
Wen Ting’an poured himself a glass of liquor and raised it. “I’m late, I’ll punish myself with a drink.” With that, he tilted his head back, and two ounces of high-proof liquor vanished.
Ban Shengwei quickly chimed in, “Hey, no, no, drinking on an empty stomach is bad for the lining. Eat some food.”
Dishes began arriving. Jiang City cuisine leaned sweet: bright red braised pork belly, tender white stir-fried shrimp, and a plate of osmanthus-scented candied lotus root that Ban Ban had loved since childhood.
Wen Ting’an picked up his chopsticks and suddenly placed a piece of the lotus root into Ban Ban’s bowl.
“Try it.”
Ban Ban froze for a second. “Thank you…” Her voice was as thin as a mosquito’s hum. She lowered her head and took a bite, realizing that her ears were so hot the heat was creeping down the back of her neck.
What she didn’t notice was that Wen Ting’an’s gaze lingered on the tips of her flushed ears for a moment.
Then he pulled his focus back, resuming his conversation about business with Ban Shengwei and Wen Henian.
As he talked and ate, he casually dropped food into Ban Ban’s bowl every now and then.
Ban Ban realized his powers of observation were astonishingly sharp. She didn’t eat cilantro; when he served her food, he picked around it. She didn’t eat scallions; when he ladled soup for her, he skimmed the green onions off beforehand. She had a habit of picking out ginger slices and laying them on the edge of her plate, so he simply stopped serving her anything cooked with ginger altogether.
By the end of the meal, the small plate in front of Ban Ban was pristine—everything she wanted to eat was in her bowl, and anything she disliked hadn’t even made an appearance.
Watching all of this from across the table, Ban Ru frowned slightly.
This man, she thought, is smooth. He really knows how to court someone.
After dinner, Wen Henian dragged Ban Shengwei out to the terrace to smoke and chat, while Ban Ru went to the front desk to settle the bill. Ban Ban slipped off to the restroom alone to reapply her lipstick.
The restroom was at the very end of the corridor, right around the corner from the terrace. As Ban Ban emerged after touching up her makeup, just as she rounded the bend, she heard Wen Ting’an’s voice.
He was leaning against the hallway wall, talking on his phone, letting out a low, amused chuckle. “…Feels almost like raising a kid. She still looks like a little girl.”
Whoever was on the other end said something indistinct, to which he laughed again. “Hang up.”
The click of his phone locking its screen.
Ban Ban froze at the corner, her feet glued to the floor.
She looked down at herself in the mirror on the wall—five-foot-two, round face, baby fat, the goose-yellow dress making her skin look fair and delicate.
Where did she look like a kid?
Weren’t they a good match?
Ban Ban curled her lip in mild indignation, quietly retreating back into the restroom and staying there for three whole minutes before coming out. By the time she stepped back into the hallway, Wen Ting’an was gone.
On the drive back, Ban Ru was behind the wheel, Ban Shengwei was in the passenger seat, and Ban Ban was curled up alone in the back, playing with her phone.
After hesitating for a long time, her fingers tapped out three words into the search bar: Wen Ting’an.
The top result was a financial magazine cover story with the bold headline: The Prodigal Son Returns? Wen Group Heir Doubles Corporation Value in Three Years.
The man on the cover photo wore a black turtleneck, turned slightly away from the camera. His jawline was razor-sharp, his gaze carrying a touch of casual, piercing sharpness. He looked like a completely different person from the mild, polite man who had been serving her food at the dinner table.
Ban Ban stared at that photo for a long time, then quietly closed the page and shoved her phone into her pocket.
She searched for his mother next.
No records.
Wen Henian had never mentioned a wife in public, and nobody knew who Wen Ting’an’s mother was.
Ban Ban frowned. Was he an illegitimate child? But then she reconsidered—what illegitimate child moved with such unbridled swagger, landing on financial magazine covers amid relationship scandals while Wen Henian deferred to him entirely?
She shook her head and tucked her phone away for good.
Whatever. I’m marrying him anyway.
When they got home, Ban Ru knocked on her bedroom door.
“Ban Ban.”
“Sister.”
Ban Ru walked in wearing her pajamas, hair loose, makeup completely removed to reveal dark circles under her eyes. She sat on the edge of Ban Ban’s bed and stayed silent for a long time.
“When he was serving you food earlier, I saw it,” Ban Ru said.
Ban Ban was sitting cross-legged on the bed. “Mm.”
“And he picked out everything you don’t like to eat.”
“Mm.”
Ban Ru looked at her. “How do you feel about it?”
Ban Ban thought for a moment, resting her chin on her knees. “My heart beat a little fast. Sister, he looks even better in person than he does in the magazines.”
Ban Ru smiled. “Bought over just like that?”
“Not quite.” Ban Ban picked at the pattern on her pajama pants. “Just… it feels like he isn’t as dissolute as the gossip columns make him out to be, with women constantly around him. At dinner, the way he watched my movements and expressions… it all had the bearing of a gentleman.”
Ban Ru reached out and ruffled her hair. “Ban Ban, you’re still too young. You can’t figure a man out from a single meal.”
“I know,” Ban Ban looked up. “I can take my time watching him. After we get married, I’ll have all the time in the world.”
Looking into her pure, unclouded eyes, Ban Ru suddenly didn’t know what else to say. Her little sister ought to have been the one protected from the world, yet somehow she always turned out to be the most resolute when it mattered most.
“Go to sleep,” Ban Ru said, turning off the light for her. “We have things to do tomorrow.”
In the darkness, Ban Ban rolled over, staring at the moonlight patterned across the ceiling. She thought of the way Wen Ting’an said her name, and the way his knuckles looked as he picked out food for her.
She didn’t know what moving up North would be like.
Still, she told herself: It shouldn’t be too bad.