#6: The Chronicles of a Clumsy Business Trip

The train finally arrived in Shanghai, and after checking into the hotel, I collapsed onto the bed for a quick nap. Afterward, I began preparing to meet my business partners by applying makeup. But as fate would have it, when I pulled out my lipstick, it rolled right out of my bag and disappeared behind the TV cabinet.

I decided to tackle the problem on my own. First, I searched for something long enough to retrieve the lipstick—no luck. Then I tried using an umbrella, but the handle was too thick to reach it. Next, I attempted to channel my inner gym enthusiast and tried to move the TV cabinet, but after several unsuccessful attempts, I gave up.

With no other options, I called the hotel front desk for help. “Hello, this is Room 8522. My lipstick has rolled behind the TV cabinet. Could you send someone to help me retrieve it?”

“Uh...” There was a long pause on the other end.

“Never encountered this situation before, huh?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“No, we haven’t,” the voice admitted.

“Could you send two male staff members to help me move the cabinet? It shouldn’t take long.”

“Hold on a moment. Let me call the engineering department to come up.”

“...”

The engineering department ? Was all this really necessary for a tiny lipstick?

When I told Lin Zhiyi about the incident later, he chuckled. “So now staying at a hotel requires calling in the engineering department? Truly impressive.” He added with a smirk, “This just proves how much you need me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“If I were with you, you wouldn’t need anyone else to solve these problems—you’d just need me.”

He wasn’t wrong. I used to think traveling without Lin Zhiyi simply meant losing a porter and photographer. Now I realized I was also missing a handyman.

________________________________________

After returning home from my trip, Lin Zhiyi greeted me with a question: “How was your business trip? Everything go smoothly aside from the lipstick incident?” He couldn’t resist bringing up my embarrassing mishap again... But honestly, that wasn’t the only blunder during my trip.

“Overall, it went pretty well,” I replied. “There were just three minor incidents: the lipstick, my phone, and my thermos.”

“Oh? Do tell,” he said, settling comfortably into his seat.

“The phone incident happened when I was rushing to catch the high-speed train. As I got out of the taxi, my phone slipped from my hand and landed on the ground—screen shattered.”

Lin Zhiyi picked up my phone and inspected it calmly. “It’s just the tempered glass screen protector that’s broken. Tonight, your personal ‘screen protector guy’ will replace it for you.”

His words reminded me of how focused Lin Zhiyi always looked while carefully applying a new screen protector under the light. I couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

“And what about the thermos incident?” he asked.

“Well, I was standing next to a shared bike waiting for a taxi when the bike suddenly toppled over, crushing my handbag. My thermos fell out and ended up with a dent.”

Lin Zhiyi remained unfazed. “At least it didn’t hit you. The thermos sacrificed itself for you. That dent just means it’s showing off its unique shape heroically.”

“...” Could you even explain things like that? At least he didn’t scold me for ignoring his advice about avoiding dangerous situations—”A wise person doesn’t stand beneath a crumbling wall.”

Then, out of nowhere, he grabbed my left hand. “What happened to your hand?” His tone turned urgent.

“It’s nothing,” I said casually. “I just grazed it a bit when opening my suitcase—it’s barely a scratch.”

“My poor baby, how could you be so careless?” Before I could protest, he gently blew on the reddened spot on the back of my hand.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” I laughed. “Why are you blowing on it?”

“Even if it doesn’t hurt you, it hurts me.”

In that moment, I realized something profound: While I cared deeply about my belongings—the lipstick, the phone, the thermos—there was someone who didn’t care about any of those things. All he cared about was me.

________________________________________

Despite the small mishaps, I actually enjoyed the process of traveling alone for work. One day, I told Lin Zhiyi, “Do you know what the biggest perk of traveling alone for business is?”

“Freedom?” he guessed.

“Nope. Being called ‘Beautiful Sister.’“

I beamed with pride. “Can you believe it? After being married for so many years, I’m still being called ‘Beautiful Sister’ by kids!”

“Did the child call you that on their own, or did the parent prompt them?”

“Does it matter?” I began recounting the story. “I was having lunch alone at the hotel restaurant when a family of three sat nearby. When their dishes arrived, the mother pointed to one of them and said to her child, ‘This is Hangzhou’s famous West Lake Water Shield Soup—the kind mentioned in the poem about washing hands to make soup.’“

“What does that mean?” the child asked.

The mother explained, “‘There’s a poem called The New Bride : On the third day, she enters the kitchen, washes her hands, and makes soup. Not knowing her mother-in-law’s tastes, she first lets her sister-in-law try it.’ It refers to making soup for your husband’s family.”

“Oh,” the child said, glancing at me. “Like that Beautiful Sister over there—if she marries and goes to her husband’s house to make soup, that’s called ‘washing hands to make soup.’“

“Beautiful Sister!” the child exclaimed, looking at me.

I smiled warmly. “Such a cute kid.”

Being called “Beautiful Sister” felt unexpectedly delightful—not because of the “beautiful” part, but because of the “sister.” After all, ever since I got married, I had been referred to as “auntie” more times than I could count. This was the first time in ages I’d been called “Beautiful Sister.” And I realized this was one of the perks of traveling solo instead of dragging along Lin Zhiyi and Xinbao—I could pass for an unmarried woman.

When I recounted the story to Lin Zhiyi, he quipped, “Every time we travel, I’m the one dragging around two children—you and Xinbao. Because of you two, I’ve gone from being a dashing young man to a burdened photographer.”

“...” Fine, you win again. In your eyes, I’ll always be a child.