Song Qiao stood up without greeting her, instead staying in place to wait. When Cheng Yanqiu walked into the lobby and passed the lounge area, Song Qiao finally spoke: “Teacher Cheng, hello. I am Song Qiao from Shengheng Group.”
Cheng Yanqiu stopped and glanced at her.
That look was very brief, but Xia Wei felt as though she had been scanned from head to toe by something—not an appraisal, but a scrutiny.
This was different from the kind of look Song Qiao usually gave people. Song Qiao’s gaze was cold and sharp, as if judging whether you had value; Cheng Yanqiu’s gaze was old and piercing, as if saying, “I’ve seen too many young people like you.”
“Which one are you?” Cheng Yanqiu’s voice was a bit hoarse, but every word was very clear.
“Song Qiao, Director of the Product Promotion Department at Shengheng Group,” Song Qiao presented the box of pastries with both hands. “I heard you like Xianghe’s pastries, so I brought two boxes on the way.”
Cheng Yanqiu glanced at that box of pastries without accepting it.
“On the way?” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching, uncertain whether it was a smile. “The east side of the new city district, on the way?”
Song Qiao didn’t explain, simply pushing the pastries forward a bit more.
Cheng Yanqiu looked at her for two seconds, reached out, and took them. Her movement was very slow, but very steady, like accepting something she had long known someone would bring.
“Come in,” she said, turning and walking toward the elevator.
Song Qiao followed.
Xia Wei hugged her laptop and followed behind, her heart beating very fast.
Cheng Yanqiu’s room was on the fifth floor; it wasn’t large, but it was very neat.
A pot of green dill sat on the windowsill, and an old book with yellowed pages lay open on the bedside table. She placed her cloth bag on the table and put the box of pastries beside it, neither opening them nor expressing thanks.
“Sit,” she pointed to a chair, sitting on the edge of the bed herself.
Song Qiao sat down, while Xia Wei stood aside.
“Teacher Cheng, the Starlight Project—”
“I know,” Cheng Yanqiu interrupted her, her tone neither warm nor cool. “Lin Yuan from your company has contacted me, but I haven’t done shows for many years.”
“It’s not a show,” Song Qiao said. “It’s a review. We want you to write a review. You don’t have to say good things; say whatever you see, even if you say ‘these six kids are still far off,’ as long as you are willing to write it.”
Cheng Yanqiu looked at her, a little something extra in her gaze.
“You really dare to speak,” Cheng Yanqiu said. “Others who invite me always ask me to ‘offer more valuable opinions,’ which actually means they want me to say nice things. You want me to tell the truth?”
“Yes,” Song Qiao said. “Tell the truth.”
Cheng Yanqiu leaned against the pillow at the head of the bed, her fingers tapping lightly on her knees. Xia Wei noticed her finger joints were distinct, her nails cut very short—the kind of hands that looked very efficient.
“After I retired, I stopped doing this kind of thing,” Cheng Yanqiu said. “Go find someone else.”
“I’ve looked for others,” Song Qiao said. “But others don’t carry your weight.”
“Weight?” Cheng Yanqiu let out a single laugh, very short, as if hummed out from her nose. “What weight do I have? An old crone who wrote a few articles nobody reads, what weight is that?”
“The films you’ve scolded all dropped in box office,” Song Qiao said. “The films you’ve praised, audiences all went to see. That is weight.”
Cheng Yanqiu didn’t speak, looking at Song Qiao with something indefinable in her gaze.
“You really know how to talk,” she paused. “But you found the wrong person. I don’t do newcomer shows, not because I’m putting on airs, but because I don’t understand them. I’ve seen too many newcomers—the ones who make it, the ones who don’t, the talented ones, the talentless ones, I’ve seen them all. But I’ve never seen trainees who haven’t debuted yet—they haven’t even debuted, what do you want me to review? Review whether they look pretty or not?”
“Review whether they have potential,” Song Qiao said.
Cheng Yanqiu glanced at her again, this time looking longer than before.
“You can go back,” she said, her voice a bit lower than just now. “I’ve accepted the pastries, thank you.”
Song Qiao stood up without saying anything more.
“Teacher Cheng, pastries should be eaten fresh. Jujube flower pastries can’t keep for long,” she said, then turned and walked out.
Xia Wei followed behind. As she reached the door, she heard a voice come from behind: “That young girl.”
Xia Wei stopped and turned back.
Cheng Yanqiu looked at her, her gaze holding a kind of gentleness unique to elderly people, but within that gentleness was a blade.
“Are you her assistant?”
“Yes,” Xia Wei said.
“You stay.”
Xia Wei was stunned for a moment. She looked at Song Qiao—Song Qiao was standing in the corridor, her back to her, her head nodding slightly.
“Okay,” Xia Wei said, stepping forward to close the room door, leaving Song Qiao shut outside.
Cheng Yanqiu watched Xia Wei’s action of closing the door and smiled, that smile very brief, but truer than the previous ones.
“You close it quite decisively,” she said.
Xia Wei sat in the spot Song Qiao had just occupied. The chair still held residual warmth, but she didn’t mind.
“Teacher Cheng, do you have any questions to ask me?” Xia Wei’s eyes were clear and clean, carrying no fawning intent.
Cheng Yanqiu sighed and said, “How long have you been with this project?”
“Two weeks,” Xia Wei answered truthfully.
Cheng Yanqiu’s slender eyebrows raised slightly, looking somewhat surprised that Song Qiao would bring someone who had only been with it for two weeks.
“Then do you understand the Starlight Project?” Cheng Yanqiu asked, lowering her voice.
Xia Wei nodded, taking the materials out of her briefcase smoothly. Cheng Yanqiu waved her hand: “I don’t look at materials; I want to hear you speak.”
Song Qiao stood in the corridor, her gaze falling on the door, her hands tightening slightly. She didn’t know whether this step she took was right or wrong.
Inside the room, Cheng Yanqiu quietly listened to Xia Wei’s explanation without interrupting, sitting upright with her gaze fixed on Xia Wei’s face, listening attentively.
Only after Xia Wei completely finished did she relax her body, leaning back against the pillows.
A thin layer of sweat oozed from Xia Wei’s palms as she bit her lip, waiting for Cheng Yanqiu’s questions. Unexpectedly, the questions Cheng Yanqiu asked were the same ones Chen Yu had asked.
An absurd thought flashed through her mind, which she suppressed as she began to earnestly answer Cheng Yanqiu’s questions.
After all the questions were answered, Cheng Yanqiu fell into silence, and Xia Wei did not disturb her.
After a long while, Cheng Yanqiu slowly spoke: “Do you know why I let you answer?”
Xia Wei shook her head.
“She’s an old fox; what she says, I don’t believe, but what you say, I believe half of.” Cheng Yanqiu raised her hand to check her watch.
Remembering what Song Qiao had said about Cheng Yanqiu’s bedtime, Xia Wei immediately stood up: “Teacher Cheng, I’ve disturbed your rest, I’ll go back first.”
“Wait, leave the materials, make arrangements, I want to see them first,” Cheng Yanqiu called Xia Wei back and said.
Xia Wei turned around in pleasant surprise: “Okay.”
Song Qiao watched Xia Wei open the door with a hint of a smile on her face, the corners of her mouth curling up as well.
Xia Wei followed Song Qiao toward the elevator. The corridor was very quiet with only the sound of their footsteps. Song Qiao walked in front, her pace neither fast nor slow, just like usual.
“Director Song,” Xia Wei spoke.
“Mm.”
“Teacher Cheng kept the materials. She said she wants to see them.”
Song Qiao pressed the elevator button to light it up and looked up at Xia Wei: “You did very well.”
“You planned to find Teacher Cheng from the very beginning, didn’t you?”
What Xia Wei was asking was whether everything done before was to ensure she wouldn’t show stage fright in front of Cheng Yanqiu and could calmly answer Cheng Yanqiu’s questions.
The questions Chen Yu asked, the meeting with the Business Department—all of it was for today.
“Yes,” Song Qiao didn’t hide it. The elevator arrived, and she stepped in first, with Xia Wei following closely behind.
Song Qiao looked at Xia Wei behind her through the elevator’s reflection: “She wouldn’t listen to me, but she’ll listen to you.”
“Why?” Xia Wei was puzzled.
“My grandmother and she are old friends, estranged old friends.” In other words, Cheng Yanqiu had held her when she was a child.
Xia Wei opened her mouth, wanting to ask something, but feeling it was a privacy, she forced herself to swallow it down.
“If you want to ask, just ask.” Song Qiao’s expression was relaxed, seeming to be in a very good mood.
Xia Wei pursed her lips and shook her head; Song Qiao didn’t see it.
The two waited in silence for the elevator doors to open.
Leaving the hotel, the two walked one after the other toward the parking lot. Song Qiao stepped into the driver’s seat first: “Get in, I’ll drive you back.”
“Okay,” Xia Wei sat in the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt.
The whole way was silent until the car stopped at the gate of Xia Wei’s residential community.
“Thank you, Director Song, for driving me back,” Xia Wei politely thanked her.
Song Qiao uttered an “mm,” watching Xia Wei unbuckle her seatbelt and push the door open to get out.
Xia Wei watched Song Qiao’s car drive away before turning to enter the community.
A lamp was left on in the living room, and everyone at home was already asleep. Xia Wei lightened her movements as she entered and went back to her bedroom.
Fang Tian’s phone call followed like a shadow.
“Hello,” Xia Wei’s voice revealed a hint of fatigue.
“What’s wrong? Did your she-devil of a boss bully you again?” Fang Tian asked with a smile.
Xia Wei sat in her chair, toying with a pen in her hand, gazing at her own shadow on the window.
“No, I just feel she’s amazing; every step is within her plan.” Xia Wei put down the pen, rubbed the space between her eyebrows, and lowered her voice.
“How so?” Fang Tian asked.
Xia Wei recounted everything from going to Chen Yu’s place to read books during this period to going to the Business Department meeting this morning.
“You mean she wrapped a whole week of dumplings just for tonight’s vinegar?” Fang Tian summarized.
Xia Wei didn’t speak.
Hearing the silence on Xia Wei’s end, Fang Tian probed, “Then do you feel like you were being used?”
“No…” Xia Wei reflexively refuted, but she couldn’t say any more words of defense.
No one knew about the matter with Cheng Yanqiu; she hadn’t even heard anyone in the Product Promotion Department mention it until today when Song Qiao asked her to check Cheng Yanqiu’s materials and led her to see Cheng Yanqiu that very night.
With such swift actions, to say Song Qiao hadn’t prepared in advance was simply impossible.
“Then what are you thinking? We’re just wage earners, how could we guess the leader’s intentions every single time?” Fang Tian comforted her.
Xia Wei pressed harder on her fingertips rubbing between her eyebrows, making the skin red. She didn’t know how to describe her current mood.
Awkwardness? Anger? Or the feeling of not being trusted…
“Babe, don’t think about it. Get a good night’s sleep, wake up tomorrow and go back to work, just do whatever the leader tells you to do.” Seeing Xia Wei stay quiet, Fang Tian had no choice but to keep comforting her.
Xia Wei uttered an “mm,” hung up the phone, and looked up at her shadow on the window. Her complexion wasn’t good, and a trace of anger lingered in the depths of her eyes.
She thought she understood Song Qiao a little bit, but as it turned out… it seemed it was all her own delusion.
Whatever, what was she even thinking? She stayed for work all for that figure, and to make that skinflint Fang Tian part with her money.
The breeze of April was gentle, especially in the morning, but Xia Wei couldn’t muster a shred of spirit; her whole person drooped listlessly.
She still ordered coffee on her phone, picked it up at the shop, and lined up to wait for the elevator, only she lacked a trace of expectation.
She didn’t want to bump into Song Qiao in the elevator, but unfortunately…
Meeting gazes, Xia Wei averted her eyes first. Song Qiao still had no expression on her face, but her hands resting by her sides curled slightly.
The people in the elevator gradually dwindled, and Xia Wei felt someone approaching from behind. Without turning her head, she knew who it was; that faint scent of fabric detergent mixed with cedarwood belonging to Song Qiao hovered around her nose.
“Director Song,” Xia Wei ultimately failed to withstand the pressure and softly called out.
“Mm,” Song Qiao nodded.
The two went down the elevator one after the other, Xia Wei in front and Song Qiao in the rear.
“Director Song, your coffee.” Xia Wei put away her bag, and just as Song Qiao walked to the edge of her workstation, she reached out to hand the coffee over.
To hell with the “rule-bound nightmares,” she wasn’t going to follow them anymore.
Xie Xiaoqing’s gaze swept back and forth between Song Qiao and Xia Wei, finally watching Song Qiao enter her office and close the door.
“You two are acting weird. What happened yesterday?” Xie Xiaoqing asked with a face full of gossip.
Xia Wei shook her head: “We just went out to see a client, why?”
Of course she knew things were weird, and this weirdness radiated from her own end.
Xie Xiaoqing didn’t believe it, but didn’t ask further either, opening her computer to begin the day’s work, while Xia Wei continued organizing yesterday’s data.
Not long after, Lin Yuan was called into Song Qiao’s office. When he came out, an unstoppable excitement was on his face as he walked quickly to Xia Wei’s side and gave a thumbs-up: “Not bad, Xiao Xia.”
Xia Wei looked at Lin Yuan, uncomprehending.
“You managed to handle even Cheng Yanqiu; you’re simply our department’s lucky star.” In his excitement, Lin Yuan forgot about men and women keeping their distance and slammed a hand onto Xia Wei’s shoulder, causing her body to lurch forward.
“Sorry, sorry, too excited…” Lin Yuan hurriedly apologized.
Xia Wei didn’t speak, simply waving her hand to indicate it was fine.
Lin Yuan wandered back, still muttering under his breath: “Need to arrange the meeting quickly… gotta arrange it fast.”
Xia Wei raised her head and swept a glance toward Song Qiao’s office. The door was open, and Song Qiao sat inside, lowering her head to write something.
Xie Xiaoqing wanted to tease her a bit, but seeing Xia Wei’s appearance of intently staring at the computer, she held back that thought, holding it in all the way until lunch.
“Did you fight with Director Song?” Xie Xiaoqing brought her meal and sat opposite Xia Wei, lowering her voice to ask.
Xia Wei almost choked on the chili, hurriedly drinking a few mouthfuls of soup and raising her eyes to look at Xie Xiaoqing, tears still flickering in her eyes.
“Look at you, eat slowly. Are you okay?” Xie Xiaoqing pulled out a tissue and handed it over to Xia Wei.
Xia Wei wiped her mouth clean: “I’m fine, just choked.” She didn’t answer Xie Xiaoqing’s previous question.
But was Xie Xiaoqing someone so easily fooled? She continued to ask: “When you went out on field work with Director Song yesterday, did some unpleasant event happen?”
“No, everything was very normal. Why ask like this?” Xia Wei played dumb while acting innocent, throwing the question back instead.
Xie Xiaoqing scooped a spoonful of rice, unsure whether to eat it or not. She sighed and said: “It’s just a feeling.”
This morning Xia Wei had handed the coffee directly into Song Qiao’s hands, seemingly not caring about Song Qiao’s feelings anymore.
“Then you probably felt wrong,” Xia Wei smiled, then lowered her head to eat without speaking further.
Returning for the lunch break, Xia Wei noticed Song Qiao was still sitting in her office and hadn’t gone out to eat.
She sat in her chair, her gaze drifting leisurely onto the silhouette behind the frosted glass, biting her lips while wondering what she was thinking. Finally, as if resigning to her fate, she picked up her phone and walked toward the elevator.
Watching Xia Wei’s back, Xie Xiaoqing muttered a sentence: “And she claims they didn’t fight, this awkward streak…”
Xia Wei quickly brought back a meal, walked straight to Song Qiao’s office, and knocked on the door. Without waiting for Song Qiao to speak, she walked in and placed the lunchbox lightly on Song Qiao’s desk.
“Director Song, your meal,” Xia Wei said in a low voice.
Song Qiao looked up at Xia Wei, a flash of oddity crossing the depths of her eyes: “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, I’m heading out first, eat it while it’s hot,” Xia Wei said, turning to leave and closing the door behind her by the way.
Song Qiao stared blankly at the lunchbox. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed Xia Wei’s subtle changes; she just didn’t know how to speak of it, nor was there anything much to explain.
Her plan was just like this, and Xia Wei was the frontline assault soldier she sent out.
She didn’t understand Xia Wei’s awkwardness either; she hoped Xia Wei could adjust her state as soon as possible without affecting her work.
In the afternoon, Lin Yuan went in and out of Song Qiao’s office trip after trip, seemingly busy with some very important matters. Xia Wei kept her head down, busy with her own work, not wanting to pay attention.
When it was time to get off work, seeing that Song Qiao hadn’t left yet, Xia Wei messaged her according to routine: Director Song, today’s data has been organized by me. If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving work first.
Song Qiao replied very quickly and briefly, with just one word—Good.
During the evening rush hour of leaving work, Xia Wei leaned in a corner, not looking at her phone, just staring blankly out the window. The setting sun fell onto the river surface, reflecting layers of golden light, but she had no heart to appreciate it.
“Ding-dong”
A message sent by Fang Tian: How was it today? Did you work overtime?
Xia Wei: No.
Fang Tian: Come out to eat.
Xia Wei: A bit tired, want to go home and rest.
Fang Tian replied after a moment: What’s wrong? Are you still grieving over the she-devil hiding things from you?
Xia Wei didn’t reply anymore. She didn’t want to talk about this matter right now; speaking of it would make Fang Tian think she was being overly sensitive.
Dragging her exhausted body and unpleasant mood, Xia Wei opened her front door, and a wave of home-cooked food aroma rushed into her nasal cavity, instantly washing away the fatigue on her body.
“Mom, what are we eating today?” Xia Wei changed her shoes and darted into the kitchen, only to find the person busy in the kitchen was her dad, Xia Yiyuan.
Xia Yiyuan glanced at her and said nothing.
Too lazy to bother with him, Xia Wei turned and walked toward the living room. Her grandma was watching TV in the living room: “Grandma, where’s my mom?”
“She went to see your maternal grandparents, won’t be back for dinner tonight,” Wen Huaiyu replied casually, entranced by an old movie on TV.
Xia Wei uttered an “mm” and turned back to her bedroom.
When it was time to eat, Wen Huaiyu went to knock on Xia Wei’s bedroom door: “Good granddaughter, time to eat.”
“Grandma, I’m not eating, working overtime,” Xia Wei sat in her chair with nothing in front of her; even her phone was on the bed as she spaced out.
“How can you not eat? Eat your meal, working overtime later is fine too,” Wen Huaiyu continued.
Xia Wei took a deep breath: “Grandma, I’ve already eaten outside.”
Hearing this, Wen Huaiyu didn’t force her to come out, but during the meal, she didn’t give her own son a good look.
Xia Yiyuan ate his meal with his head down. After a while, he stood up, went to the kitchen, used a plate to pack a portion of untouched dishes, and piled the rice belonging to Xia Wei onto the plate.
“Mom, take this to her,” Xia Yiyuan walked all the way to Xia Wei’s door before turning back to say in a low voice to Wen Huaiyu.
Wen Huaiyu raised her head and glared at him: “Your attitude is just like that stubborn old man’s.” Though she muttered thusly, fearing Xia Wei would go hungry, she took the plate and walked toward Xia Wei’s room.
“Weiwei, can Grandma come in?” Wen Huaiyu knocked on the door to ask.
Hearing this, Xia Wei hurriedly flipped open a pile of materials, pretending to be busy: “Mm, come in, Grandma.”
Only then did Wen Huaiyu press the handle, carrying the meal in and placing it on Xia Wei’s desk: “Eat at least a little bit, don’t lower yourself to your dad’s level.”
“Grandma, you’re the best,” Xia Wei leaned against her grandma’s embrace, smelling the scent unique to the elderly, feeling exceptionally at ease.
“Alright, alright, eat while it’s hot,” Wen Huaiyu patted Xia Wei’s back and went out.
Xia Wei looked at the food on the plate, her eyes slowly turning red. Continuing like this really wasn’t a solution; she had to move out as soon as possible.
Once the plate was emptied, Xia Wei waited until there was no movement outside before carrying the plate out. Wen Huaiyu went to sleep early, and Xia Yiyuan had returned to his bedroom; there wasn’t a single person outside.
Rinsing the plate clean and putting it into the dish cabinet, Xia Wei leaned against the stove and sighed, bumping right into Zhou Ci who had just returned.
“What’s wrong, Weiwei?” Zhou Ci walked over and softly asked, “Did your dad say something to you again?”
“No, neither of us said anything,” Xia Wei shook her head with her head lowered.
“Then is it work-related?” Zhou Ci tentatively asked.
Xia Wei took a deep breath, raised her head to look at Zhou Ci, and said: “Mm, haven’t worked for too long, feeling a bit unaccustomed.”
Zhou Ci looked at her thoughtfully. It had already been two weeks, and she was only now saying she felt unaccustomed… Could it be she had a falling out with Song Qiao?
“Did you and Song Qiao have a falling out?” Zhou Ci asked directly.
Like a kitten whose tail had been stepped on, Xia Wei jumped up and walked outward, saying as she walked: “Nothing of the sort, I’m going to take a shower first, still have to work tomorrow.”
Zhou Ci followed behind her, lowering her voice: “Weiwei, Mom tells you, separate work from life; don’t let personal emotions affect your work.”
“I know, Mom,” Xia Wei tugged the corners of her mouth upward slightly and returned to her room.
Zhou Ci didn’t follow her anymore, just looking at Xia Wei’s back and frowning slightly. With that kind of reaction, she still claimed it had nothing to do with Song Qiao.
Fine, a generation doesn’t manage another generation’s business; let her toss and turn herself.
After finishing her shower, Xia Wei messaged her cousin saying she really intended to rent her apartment.
Her cousin replied very quickly: Then go live there.
Looking at this reply, Xia Wei knew her cousin didn’t plan to collect rent from her. She looked up the rent for the same community online, picked a reasonable number, and transferred it to her cousin via a blue software application.
Her cousin’s phone call came quickly too. The moment she answered, Xia Wei held the phone far away, bringing it back to her ear only after the noise on the other end stopped.
“Cousin, I can’t live in your place for free.” A guilty tone leaked out from Xia Wei’s voice.
Her cousin’s full-of-vitality voice came over again: “With that salary of yours, if you pay rent on top of eating out, how much money can you have left? If you’re going to pay money, go find someone else’s apartment to live in.”
“Cousin…” Xia Wei felt somewhat embarrassed.
“Hold on,” other voices came from her cousin’s end, and it was only after a good while that she replied: “Weiwei, I have things to busy myself with right now, just go over and live there yourself, don’t send money over again, it’s such a hassle.”
Black lines popped up on Xia Wei’s forehead. She knew her cousin’s subtext: transferring this bit of money required her to go through it again, and she found it bothersome.
Having resolved the housing matter, Xia Wei’s heart loosened quite a bit, and she slept well.
Zhou Ci was right; work is work, and life is life. She had to view them separately.
Carrying her coffee, Xia Wei walked briskly toward Song Qiao’s office. Song Qiao hadn’t arrived yet, but she knew the door lock password, opened it herself, and placed the coffee in the appropriate spot.
Just as she turned around ready to leave, Song Qiao arrived.
“Morning, Director Song, the coffee is set,” Xia Wei’s tone was relaxed, carrying the morning’s vitality.
Song Qiao nodded: “Mm, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, I’m heading out first,” Xia Wei said. Song Qiao stepped aside, watching Xia Wei walk past her with a trace of puzzlement at the bottom of her eyes.
Just as Xia Wei returned to her workstation and sat down, Xie Xiaoqing stepped in right on the dot, entering the Product Promotion Department while holding a cup of soy milk as usual.
“Morning, Sister Xiaoqing,” Xia Wei said.
Xie Xiaoqing squinted her eyes and leaned close to Xia Wei. Xia Wei shrank backward: “What’s wrong, Sister Xiaoqing?”
“Run into some good things? So happy?” Xie Xiaoqing propped one hand on the desk, trapping Xia Wei inside her workstation to cross-examine her.
Xia Wei’s eyes were clear: “Does sleeping well last night count?”
Before Xie Xiaoqing could say anything, Song Qiao stood at the doorway of her office: “Xie Xiaoqing, come here for a moment.”
Appearing like a thunderclap, Xie Xiaoqing sprang up instantly, grabbed her notebook, and walked toward Song Qiao’s office.
Xia Wei noticed Song Qiao’s final gaze land on her. That look seemed to carry a trace of a warning?
Warning her of what? Warning her not to horse around with colleagues during work hours?
Yet it didn’t quite look like it.