[Objective and indifferent, lacking romance but efficient.]

Milan felt a bit guilty for troubling Peng Shuai, so her tone naturally softened. The other party didn’t brush her off and actually agreed to drive all the way to Tongzhou late at night to pick her up, which made her very grateful. She thought Peng Shuai was a really nice guy, so she thanked him profusely on the phone with a smile.

Her smile was very lively and bright, just like before, but after hanging up and turning to face Yan Lin, she no longer smiled like that. She became very polite and proper, and explained to him, “A friend is coming to pick me up. He’ll be here soon. You should go first.”

After saying that, fearing he wouldn’t leave, she added, “Bye-bye.”

Changes in human relationships are often caused by something, continuing along a very rigorous thread, always leading to a reasonable outcome: there is no unprovoked enthusiasm, nor is there baseless alienation.

Yan Lin also knew that the current relationship between him and Milan couldn’t be very close, but he was indeed not used to her treating him with such a distant attitude while treating others with such intimacy and warmth.

Even though they had broken up three years ago.

He was silent for a while, standing still. Milan was wondering why he wasn’t leaving when she suddenly heard him ask, “How long will your friend take to get here?”

Milan was stunned again, “Huh?”

Yan Lin’s expression became even colder, as if he was very impatient, and said, “I’ll leave after he comes.”

As if she owed him something.

Milan was speechless, but on the surface, she didn’t dare to show it. She still politely declined, saying it was okay, her friend would be there soon, and urged him to leave quickly. The subway ride from Tongzhou to Haidian was quite long, and Yan Lin was still living in the Peking University dormitory since he hadn’t graduated yet, so it wouldn’t be good for him to get back too late.

But he seemed to have made up his mind. After her reasonable persuasion, he still stood there, his face terribly gloomy, making Milan afraid to speak. She stood with him, as quiet as a chicken.

The two of them stood outdoors, the air filled only with dust. Even the willow catkins hadn’t started to fly yet in this month, which made the scene of them together even more wooden, without even a moving object.

Milan blankly looked up at the moon in the sky, thinking to herself how she had become like this. The former her was clearly not like this... The former her always had endless things to say whenever she was in front of Yan Lin.

She felt a bit dazed and also a bit sentimental. The awkwardness gradually receded because of this. In the silence, she heard Yan Lin ask her again, “...Is it a boyfriend?”

She was stunned again—she had been stunned several times tonight because of his words—and after being stunned, she turned her face to look at him. She saw the streetlights stretching his shadow long, with a strangely lonely feeling.

She didn’t have time to answer, so he thought she hadn’t understood and asked again very completely, with subject, verb, and object, “The person who’s coming to pick you up later, is he your boyfriend?”

This time Milan was able to come back to her senses and answer.

“I guess so,” she thought for a moment before answering, “We went on a blind date, and he’s quite suitable.”

“Suitable.”

A very mature word.

“Suitable” is not “like,” let alone “love.” It has nothing to do with any emotional factors. It’s just an evaluation standard used by adults to weigh pros and cons, objective and indifferent, lacking romance but efficient.

It’s a Chinese word most suitable for unmarried men and women around the age of 25 to mention.

But Yan Lin’s attention wasn’t on this word. He was more concerned with the previous phrase, “I guess so,” which made his gaze even colder, and his shadow under the streetlight swayed slightly.

“How is he?” After a silence, he asked again, this time his voice a bit low, “...Is he good to you?”

This question was a bit difficult to answer. After all, Milan didn’t think her relationship with Yan Lin was good enough that they could still chat and laugh about their new partners after breaking up. At least she couldn’t do it with a clear conscience; she probably just had poor psychological quality. Moreover, Milan and Peng Shuai’s interaction was still in the first stage, and she hadn’t had enough opportunities to examine this point, but...

“He’s pretty good... It’s not easy for him to come pick me up this late at night.”

She stated objectively.

When she said this, she really didn’t have any emotions, let alone any insinuations towards others. She just stated a plain fact, but when it fell into Yan Lin’s ears, it completely changed its flavor, as if it had become a sarcasm towards him, or at least a comparison.

Because he had never gone anywhere late at night to pick her up... Even when she used to go to Peking University to find him, he never took her back to Renmin University. They would always meet briefly, and then he would go to his part-time tutoring job off-campus.

...He was never a qualified boyfriend, and he never really treated her well.

Yan Lin fell silent again. This time he finally stopped trying to talk to her.

Milan also realized that he wasn’t in the mood to talk. It seemed that there was nothing more to say between them, which made her feel a bit of inexplicable loss while also feeling relieved. But this wasn’t a big problem, because Peng Shuai arrived shortly after.

He was a native Beijinger with a hukou, a graduate of Communication University of China, 28 years old this year, driving a Beijing-plated Volkswagen. After parking the car, he specifically got out to pick up Milan. He turned his head and saw Yan Lin standing beside Milan.

Peng Shuai wasn’t actually handsome, just an ordinary-looking man. He wasn’t tall either, probably around 1.75 meters, so standing next to the 1.84-meter tall Yan Lin in a suit, he inevitably looked a bit inferior. He probably also realized he was at a disadvantage, so he naturally felt some hostility towards Yan Lin. While walking towards Milan, he glanced at Yan Lin out of the corner of his eye and asked Milan, “And this is...?”

Milan gave an “oh” sound and hurriedly introduced the two to each other, introducing Peng Shuai as a “big-shot colleague in sports news” and Yan Lin as a “high school classmate who studies at Peking University.”

She completely avoided mentioning her personal relationship with either of them, but it still couldn’t erase the subtle atmosphere at the time.

The two men shook hands. Milan then asked Peng Shuai if he could conveniently drop Yan Lin off at a nearby subway station. Peng Shuai said he could, but Yan Lin shook his head and said no need. He then turned and left without any further greetings, his slender figure quickly merging into the deep night, looking particularly lonely.

Sitting in the car, Milan’s thoughts were a bit chaotic, so she was somewhat silent. Peng Shuai’s mood wasn’t very good either, and she didn’t know if it was because he was provoked by Yan Lin. He seemed a bit out of sorts, and his tone was slightly harsh when talking to Milan. He tried hard to persuade himself not to actively ask about Yan Lin again, but in the end, he couldn’t help but subtly warn Milan not to stay out so late next time, as he was very busy with work and might not always have time to pick her up.

It was both a reminder and a subtle warning, telling her he was unhappy.

Milan sensed Peng Shuai’s suppressed emotions. She silently lowered her eyelids, nodded to indicate “I understand,” and then turned her head to look at the dazzling neon lights of Beijing at night outside the car window, silently repeating the word “suitable” twenty times in her heart.

On the other side, Zhou Leqi’s work became increasingly busy after she officially joined the company.

When she was still an intern, she was on call 24 hours a day, ready to reply to her boss’s messages at any time. Now that she had become a formal analyst, the level of busyness had increased rather than decreased. She was in Pei Qiming’s team, and this team was the most competitive in the entire company, with the most projects and the heaviest workload, but also—the most generous bonuses.

Zhou Leqi had always been down-to-earth and conscientious in her work. She didn’t need any personal time and focused all her attention on her work, working harder than all the interns. She handled two projects simultaneously without being careless, doing everything meticulously. This made her colleagues in the entire office joke that Lucky truly deserved to be Pei’s classmate, both being top-tier workaholics.

These jokes and the pressure of work didn’t affect Zhou Leqi. She cherished this job very much because it could bring her generous rewards. She had actually saved some money now. Yu Qing had also earned a lot in recent years as a food blogger. If the mother and daughter pooled their money and sold the small apartment in the A City Development Zone, they could make a down payment on an apartment in Beijing. Then, as long as she worked hard, she could pay off the mortgage. She had already planned that by the end of this year, she would buy an apartment with her mother and truly settle down in Beijing.

With this drive, Zhou Leqi worked even harder. She had almost completely grasped the wine company project that Pei Qiming had given her a few days ago, and in a couple of days, she could go to Italy for due diligence.

Pei Qiming had originally really planned to personally take Zhou Leqi to do this project, but he had too much work on hand. Coincidentally, in mid-March, the MD of SWD headquarters came to Beijing in person, and he had to report his work, so he had to give up his plan to go to Italy.

This meant Zhou Leqi had to go on a business trip to Italy with Zeng Ruihong.

Zeng Ruihong was also considered Zhou Leqi’s superior. He was 31 years old this year, one level higher than an analyst and one level lower than a VP, a senior associate, and the first person to follow up on the Pierno project.

There was somewhat of a conflict between him and Pei Qiming.

Pei Qiming was 27 years old this year and had already become a VP, while Zeng Ruihong was 31 but still just an associate, having to report to Pei Qiming. Of course, he was unconvinced. Moreover, when SWD considered promoting to VP, they had chosen between Pei Qiming and Zeng Ruihong, and Pei Qiming had won, while Zeng Ruihong had failed. This resentment was bound to exist.

However, people in the workplace were not naive. No matter how much resentment they had in their hearts, they had to be polite on the surface. Zeng Ruihong and Pei Qiming still maintained a superficial harmony, but they both understood each other’s opinions of them.

Therefore, Pei Qiming was still somewhat worried about Zhou Leqi going to Italy with Zeng Ruihong. After all, almost everyone in the company now implicitly considered Zhou Leqi to be on his side. He was worried that Zeng Ruihong would find an opportunity to give Zhou Leqi a hard time.

Zhou Leqi was very grateful for Pei Qiming’s care for her, but work was work. She didn’t want to lose the opportunity for promotion and a raise because of some unnecessary worries. If the Pierno project was successful, her KPI for this year would be guaranteed. Therefore, no matter how difficult Zeng Ruihong was, she wouldn’t give up this opportunity right in front of her.

Pei Qiming understood her thoughts and also knew that he couldn’t persuade her otherwise. He joked that she was “willing to risk her life for money,” and she didn’t deny it, even saying that she was just following his example, and that President Pei had set a good precedent.

He couldn’t do anything about her, so he helplessly signed her travel request. At the same time, he thought that Zeng Ruihong wasn’t stupid. Even if he had some conflict with him, he wouldn’t openly bully a girl. Therefore, he felt a bit more at ease. But even so, before Zhou Leqi went to Italy, he still treated her to a meal and instructed her at the table: “If anything goes wrong, call me. I’ll be on call 24 hours a day.”

His promises were always very credible. He also knew that after what happened 7 years ago, Zhou Leqi’s greatest fear was suddenly losing contact with people in her life. The promise he gave her at this moment was very reassuring to her, and she was indeed moved by it.

“Thank you, President Pei,” she smiled and raised her champagne-filled glass to him, her smile appropriate and sincere, “I will definitely bring back good news.”