Chapter 18

Lin Yuewei clapped her hands, then turned and caught sight of the smile on Jiang Congbi’s face. The moment their eyes met, Jiang Congbi blinked, tipped her head, flashed a standard eight-tooth grin, and even cupped her chin in both hands, puckering her lips and acting cute.

Lin Yuewei jolted, her eyes almost stinging from the assault.

Who was Jiang Congbi? A childhood friend she’d grown up with with her pants off; one look at Jiang Congbi’s smile and Lin Yuewei could tell she was up to no good.

“Jiang Congbi.” Lin Yuewei clasped her hands behind her back and narrowed her eyes at her.

“Here!” Jiang Congbi snapped to attention.

“Spit it out. What are you plotting?”

“Nothing. I just remembered something funny.”

“Oh.” Lin Yuewei didn’t believe her at all. Remembering something funny and wearing that scheming expression were two very different things. “Tell me.”

Jiang Congbi told her a piece of school gossip: so-and-so had cheated and gotten together with someone else; the ex-girlfriend and the current girlfriend had been fighting all over campus, making it clear there was room for only one of them, and then, after all that fighting, the two of them had somehow ended up together.

The gossip was truly explosive, especially since among the two people who had been at each other’s throats, one was the campus belle and the other was the principal’s daughter; in terms of looks, they were both women of talent and beauty.

“Wait a second.” Lin Yuewei went inside, sat down on the sofa, and took two tubs of ice cream from the fridge, handing one to Jiang Congbi. “You can keep going.”

As the school’s walking encyclopedia, Jiang Congbi had never had to go looking for gossip; gossip from all directions always came running to her. It was the perfect embodiment of the saying: plan everything from a thousand miles away and win from beyond the battlefield.

Lin Yuewei had been out of school for a long time. She’d done her internship in the first semester of senior year, and during this graduation season in the second semester, she had never once gone back to campus except for registration day. Her thesis had been finished ages ago and shown to her advisor in advance; all that was left was to submit it, defend it, and graduate formally after passing. She really didn’t have time to keep up with the campus grapevine. Not to mention that even if she had been on campus, she still wouldn’t have been part of most students’ world. She spent her days in the library, her grades were outstanding, and with that exceptionally striking face, she had only a fixed few friends around her. She formed her own little circle and took the cool, untouchable route; anyone could tell she had nothing to do with gossip.

Ever since she was little, she hadn’t been warm with other people. Outwardly cold and inwardly cold too, she reserved only a tiny corner for family and friends. She had always been up in the clouds, until Jiang Congbi became the person who dragged her down from them into the mortal world, devoted to feeding her all kinds of gossip.

Jiang Congbi began with the backstory: “The guy was our school’s campus heartthrob. Square jaw, thick brows and big eyes, looked all righteous and upright. He started dating the campus belle, and everyone said they were a perfect match; there was even a shipper thread on the school forum. A lot of people knew them.”

Lin Yuewei asked, “Which campus heartthrob?”

Jiang Congbi waved a hand dismissively. “You don’t need to know that. Anyway, he was just some overcooked, generic campus heartthrob.”

Lin Yuewei frowned. “Since when do just any Tom, Dick, and Harry get called campus heartthrobs? Shouldn’t the campus heartthrob be me?”

Jiang Congbi froze for a second, then dropped the ice cream and lunged at her. Lin Yuewei dodged in time; Jiang Congbi only managed to wrap herself around Lin Yuewei’s leg, clinging tight like a fangirl as she shrieked, “I really love you so much when you joke so seriously like that.”

The corners of Lin Yuewei’s mouth lifted. She was just about to ruffle Jiang Congbi’s hair when Jiang Congbi, with her rotten mouth, added, “If you weren’t a married woman now, I might have changed my mind and gone after you.”

Lin Yuewei flicked her on the back of the head and set her upright. “Continue.”

Jiang Congbi said, “Fine, forget the campus heartthrob. The scumbag and the campus belle dated for three months and broke up peacefully. Of course, if it had really been peaceful, there wouldn’t have been anything after that. Less than a month later, the scumbag started going in and out with the principal’s daughter.”

“Mm.” Lin Yuewei didn’t even lift her eyelids as she fed herself a spoonful of ice cream, offering an absent little sound.

She wondered whether Gu Yanqiu had arrived at the company yet. If she had, would she send her a message? Someone that proper should, right?

Jiang Congbi continued, “Changing girlfriends isn’t that big of a deal to begin with, but when the ex and the current girlfriend each started posting online, that was something else. Supposedly the principal’s daughter first sent a submission to a blogger, ranting like crazy about how the ex-girlfriend seduced her boyfriend and was a shameless green-tea bitch. She got exposed, and you can imagine the campus belle couldn’t swallow that. The two of them took it from the internet to real life.”

Jiang Congbi said, “But actually, those two didn’t know each other well. They weren’t in the same graduating class; the principal’s daughter was one year below the campus belle. They arranged offline battles—of course not the kind where they’d pull hair. They compared grades, looks, and talents. I thought it was kind of middle-school-ish, haha. Then later on, the two of them were together every day and didn’t have time to pay any attention to the scumbag at all. And the best part is coming. Guess what?”

Lin Yuewei said coolly, “They ended up together, didn’t they? You already said that.”

“No, no.” Jiang Congbi insisted on drawing out the suspense. “Guess.”

Lin Yuewei sighed. “They realized the scumbag had deceived them and teamed up to beat him up?”

“……”

Lin Yuewei spread her hands. “You told me to guess.”

Jiang Congbi said, “That’s not it. Did someone already tell you?”

Lin Yuewei twirled her phone around her finger, unlocked the screen, tapped into her texts, returned to the home screen, then locked it again and set it face-down on the sofa as if nothing had happened. “I’ll pretend I didn’t guess. Tell me. I’m bored anyway.”

Jiang Congbi filled in nearly thirty minutes’ worth of details, connecting one thing to another and going on and on. Lin Yuewei had already mentally calculated the traffic conditions; the time Gu Yanqiu had been gone was enough for a round trip around the Jiang house, and even with traffic, she should have been there long ago.

“I’m going upstairs to catch a bit of sleep,” Lin Yuewei said. She deleted the previous call log and didn’t bother memorizing that string of numbers. She really should get a move on; the feeling of a thought popping up in her heart from time to time was not pleasant.

“Hey.”

Jiang Congbi watched her back and silently wondered: what was going on? She’d been fine just now; why did she suddenly want to sleep?

She followed her upstairs.

Lin Yuewei was standing in front of the wardrobe, her back to the doorway, changing clothes.

Jiang Congbi didn’t look at her. She first sat down on the bed. If Lin Yuewei hadn’t said anything, she wouldn’t have felt sleepy, but now that she’d said it, Jiang Congbi was tired too. She’d stayed up until two again last night. She’d gotten up in the first place because of Gu Yanqiu, and now that the person was gone, drowsiness hit.

She lay down on the bed on the spot. Lin Yuewei, who had changed into pajamas and said she was going to sleep, instead opened Jiang Congbi’s computer, entered the password from memory, and booted it up. When Jiang Congbi saw the game interface on the screen, she propped herself up on one elbow, rested her cheek in her hand, and asked, “Looking for that internet friend of yours again? What was the name… something star?”

“Looking up at the Starry Sky. He’s not online,” Lin Yuewei said. After sending the other party a message saying, Are you there? she opened a game on her own.

“I knew you were looking for them.”

“Mm.” Lin Yuewei gave a faint reply, extremely perfunctory.

“That something star—male or female?”

“How would I know?”

“You’ve been playing with them for years.”

“We’re just playing games together. Why worry about so much?” Lin Yuewei felt the other person was probably a man; girls who liked bridge-type games like her were probably the odd ones out.

“It’s not that I want to worry. It’s just that you’re always running around with them, so I’m expressing a little concern.”

“Always? Tsk.”

“Back in college, I kept seeing you playing games every few days. I had no idea what was so fun about it; you were smiling like a lovesick fool every day.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Lin Yuewei said. “And stop interrupting me. If I lose later, I’ll blame you.”

Jiang Congbi huffed and burrowed into the blanket.

Lin Yuewei had been at her craziest with games in her third year of university. She and the other person had a twelve-hour time difference, and she’d rather stay up late than stop playing. Jiang Congbi thought she was addicted to gaming; only later, when she asked clearly, did she learn there was a playmate. She was immediately so worried she couldn’t eat, repeatedly warning Lin Yuewei never to fall into an online romance. You didn’t even know whether the other person was a cat or a dog, and Lin Yuewei had replied in a deeply helpless tone: Do you know what a soulmate is?

A soulmate in card games? Jiang Congbi had answered her, “Oh, come on. I don’t know about soulmates. I know about golden partners, and soulmates. Use your head a little. Someone as pretty and innocent as you is easiest for some old man to fool. For all you know, the other side is just some middle-aged basement-dwelling loser; maybe even married with kids. Dark and greasy skin, skinny as a bamboo pole. Remember the oil painting Father from the art book when we were kids? Just like that. Of course, I’m not saying Father is bad.”

Lin Yuewei, staring at the number of tricks on the table and calculating a slam, heard this and slipped up so badly that her hand shook and she played the wrong card. She almost splashed the water in the cup beside her into Jiang Congbi’s face. “Shut up already.”

Of course the online romance never materialized. Lin Yuewei gradually kicked the gaming habit, and Jiang Congbi thought she had had a sudden awakening. Only after asking did she learn it was because her game buddy had something going on and didn’t have time to log in often. If she had kept going back then, Jiang Congbi’s instincts told her, something absolutely would have happened.

After that, Lin Yuewei rarely played games in front of her. Jiang Congbi had more or less forgotten all about it, and today it had stirred up old memories again.

“Do you still play with that something star?” Jiang Congbi asked after thinking it over.

“Played one round together a few days ago.”

“How did it feel?”

“Like a soulmate. I think his skills have improved again. Next time I’ll look for him to play chess and see who wins.”

There was that awful term again. Jiang Congbi brought up the past once more, earnestly advising her, “Just don’t go falling for someone online. I think that Gu Yan…”

“Don’t mention her.” Lin Yuewei cut her off and said indifferently, “I don’t want to be your relationship consultant. Think it through yourself. I’m finishing this round and then sleeping; don’t bother me.”

“That’s not what I meant… Forget it.” Jiang Congbi was torn in two directions: worried that Lin Yuewei would be tricked into an online romance, and worried that she and Gu Yanqiu wouldn’t be able to be together. Her head felt like it was splitting in two.

Lin Yuewei was absent-minded. Only after she’d played her card did she realize she had missed a chance at a made contract. She immediately took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She glanced at her phone; there was still no message. In the end, she shut it off so she wouldn’t be distracted.

***

The appointment letter had already been issued, and both companies had been notified. Gu Yanqiu went back to her original company to handle the handover. She was busy for the entire morning, and after telling the newly appointed manager to call her whenever there was something unclear, she left with a box in her arms.

She drove straight to the headquarters building and informed reception in advance. Reception called upstairs, and the person who came down to greet her was neither the general manager nor some vice general manager, but the secretary of one of the vice general managers. The other party bowed respectfully in front of her.

“Hello,” Gu Yanqiu said with a nod. No matter who she was speaking to, above or below, she always maintained proper courtesy.

“Second Miss,” the secretary said. “Please come with me.”

At the sound of that, Gu Yanqiu stopped.

After graduating from high school, Gu Yanqiu had gone abroad to study. Aside from two summer vacations when she returned to the country and met with Gu Huai twice, she had almost never been to headquarters. This was the first time that secretary had seen her today, and her first impression was that she was extremely beautiful and seemed unconcerned with the world. But at this moment, looking into those dark, cold eyes, the secretary somehow felt a chill.

“Second Miss, what’s wrong?”

“What did you call me?” Gu Yanqiu lightly rubbed her prayer beads and, with only a slight parting of her thin lips, asked blandly.

“Se—” The secretary met the glance she shot over. Gu Yanqiu’s gaze changed abruptly, exactly like her father Gu Huai’s; that icy, piercing look seemed to have weight, pressing down heavily enough to make people tremble for no reason.

No matter how chaotic the outside world was, and however many rumors said that Gu Yanqiu had been cast aside and that the eldest son Gu Feiquan would be the one to take charge of the company and inherit the Gu family in the future, right now there was only Gu Yanqiu at headquarters.

Even a starving camel is bigger than a horse. Gu Yanqiu was the rightful heir; no matter how unfavored she might be, crushing a lowly secretary would still be as easy as swatting a fly. And looking at her now, did she seem like someone without power?

“Miss,” the secretary said, lowering her eyes in fear and changing the address respectfully.

“Remember that for the future; don’t get it wrong.” Gu Yanqiu’s lips curved slightly. She rested a hand on the secretary’s shoulder and leaned close to her ear as if in intimate confidence.

A layer of gooseflesh rose along the secretary’s neck.

“Yes, Miss.”

Gu Yanqiu let go of her, carefully smoothed the wrinkles in her shoulder fabric, and gave her a gentle nod. “Lead the way.”

“This is it. Human Resources has taken on a few new people recently; tomorrow someone will notify you to choose a new secretary.” The secretary placed Gu Yanqiu’s things on the tidied desk. Outside, employees craned their necks to peek into the office, catching only blurry outlines as they buzzed among themselves.

Gu Yanqiu pulled down the blinds, blocking the prying eyes outside, and began flipping page by page through the pile of messy documents on the desk.

Lin Yuewei had not gone home, so Gu Yanqiu had not seen her again. True to their agreement, neither of them had any contact, as if they had been erased from each other’s lives.

***

Until two months later.

“How much longer?” The road ahead had jammed into a long snake, winding on without an end in sight. Gu Yanqiu kept checking the time, her brows tightly knit. She was hurrying to discuss a deal, and in the past half hour, the car had only moved two hundred meters.

“It’ll take at least an hour to get through this stretch,” the driver said anxiously. Honking was prohibited here, and the roads on both sides were packed with pedestrians. The car was trapped in the middle, making it look incredibly small.

Gu Yanqiu’s brow furrowed. She opened the door and got out, stepping from the traffic lane to the sidewalk at the edge.

“Little Gu,” the secretary called after her, clutching a briefcase and hurrying down behind her.

Gu Yanqiu said, “Let’s take the subway. We won’t make it. Check the route.”

The secretary lowered his head and tapped on his phone. A moment later, he said, “Found it. We’ll first…”

He cut off abruptly.

Gu Yanqiu looked up and stared blankly at the giant screen in the center of the square across the street; light and shadow flashed and interwove, and every frame was Lin Yuewei’s face, beautiful to the point of sharpness.

She blinked hard, but the person was still there.

“Who is that?” Gu Yanqiu asked the secretary.

The secretary replied, “There’s a very popular variety show recently. She’s one of the contestants, called Lin something. She’s been getting criticized really badly.”

Gu Yanqiu: “???”

Author’s note: Boss Gu: When did you go on a variety show? How come I, your lawful wife, know nothing about this?!!

TL Note:

Common Chinese idiom "瘦死的骆驼比马大 (Even a starving camel is bigger than a horse)."