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Psst! We're moving!
The first year Shang Zhitao returned to Ice City was truly a difficult one.
She had to deal with the back-and-forth of mortgage paperwork and coordinate with contractors for renovations. One evening before the New Year, Da Zhai, in high spirits, prepared an entire feast. Da Zhai’s cooking was legendary. Shang Zhitao ate heartily, commenting between bites: “Mom, I think the reason I can’t cook is that you didn’t pass on the cooking gene to me.”
“Does cooking require genes?” Da Zhai removed her reading glasses. “It’s because you didn’t want to learn properly! How did you even survive in Beijing all these years? It’s a miracle you didn’t starve.”
Shang Zhitao stuffed another mouthful of rice, suddenly recalling Sun Yu’s signature Guizhou dishes, her spicy sour noodles, and even Luan Nian’s effortless yet delicious meals.
“My roommate cooks really well—Sun Yu, you’ve spoken to her before!”
“Oh, right. Sun Yu and Lumi both loved my pickled vegetables. I’ll send them some later.”
Shang Zhitao thought for a moment: “Maybe later? I’m so busy right now.” She sipped some pickled cabbage soup and wiped the sweat from her nose. “Mom, how about opening a small restaurant for you and Dad? Nothing big—just five or six tables. Your excellent cooking shouldn’t go to waste.”
“I’m too tired to cook anymore.”
“Hire someone, then!”
“That’s true. Your dad and I have some savings. Maybe we can try our hand at entrepreneurship in our old age.” Shang Zhitao chuckled. “I still have plenty of money left after selling my stocks to open the restaurant. If you two agree, I’ll start figuring out the details.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Da Zhai said, nudging Old Shang’s good leg. “What do you think?”
“Let’s do it. But no need for our daughter to spend her money—we’ll use our own. We can’t take it to the grave anyway.”
“Alright!”
The three of them finalized the plan over dinner. The Shang family wasn’t one for grand dreams, but they didn’t fuss over small decisions either. After finishing her meal, Shang Zhitao bundled up in her thick down jacket and headed out. Da Zhai called after her: “Where are you going again?”
“I’m checking out a potential location for the restaurant.”
Every night since returning, Shang Zhitao would go out for a walk, regardless of wind or snow. The breakup felt like being slowly cut by a dull knife. At first, she had felt bold and proud of herself for ending things decisively. But a few days later, during some ordinary moment, her heart suddenly felt empty. That emptiness struck her one day as she sorted through the books she had shipped back, flipping open one to find a photo of them together in Lhasa.
It was like accidentally touching an electric fence. She hastily closed the book and tossed it aside, unable to look at it again. From that day on, she walked every night. If she stayed home, she felt suffocated.
She wandered aimlessly through the streets of Ice City. Winters here were brutally cold, and walking for too long left her nose and ears feeling frozen. To combat the chill, she bought a hat from an ice cream vendor—one of those with ear flaps that covered her completely, making her look rather comical.
One day, standing outside a hotel, she saw a man walk in. His back—broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, upright posture—was almost identical to Luan Nian’s. Her heart shattered in that moment.
Perhaps breaking up with Xin Zhaozhou when she was younger had been easier; youth made it simpler to let go. Now, nearing thirty, this breakup was taking its toll. She tried hard not to think about the memories tied to Beijing, but humans weren’t animals—they couldn’t simply erase feelings for someone they’d spent years with.
Her nightly walks worried Old Shang and Da Zhai. They whispered to each other: “Do you think something’s wrong with her?”
“Maybe she’s trying to lose weight.”
“But she’s not overweight.”
Shang Zhitao roamed the streets like a true drifter, familiarizing herself with every corner of Ice City. One day, she stumbled upon a spot—a storefront beneath an old residential building along a street. Through the transparent floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminated by moonlight, she peered inside. It was over a hundred square meters, with just a few tables.
An idea quickly formed in her mind: an elderly couple running a humble stir-fry restaurant serving homely dishes, each meticulously crafted and incredibly delicious. She decided on the spot.
She immediately pulled out her phone and dialed the number listed for the property. A young man answered: “Hello, I saw your ad for a rental space.”
“The one on Second Street?” he asked.
“Yes. Can I take a look inside?”
“Sure, but you’ll have to wait about twenty minutes.”
Shang Zhitao nibbled on a candied hawthorn skewer while waiting by the roadside. The sweet-and-sour flavor helped dissipate some of her lingering sadness. By the time the man arrived, she was biting into the last hawthorn.
“Here to see the place?”
“Yes.”
Shang Zhitao glanced at him, sensing a vague familiarity but unable to place him. When he unlocked the door and turned on the lights, she followed him inside. The space was clean—the previous tenant had run a hot pot shop but went bankrupt.
“How much per year?”
“Sixty thousand yuan. My family owns several properties, but this location spells failure for whoever takes it. We’re practically giving it away.” The man seemed a bit absent-minded, glancing at Shang Zhitao only to realize the face beneath the old-man hat belonged to a young woman. Upon closer inspection, she looked familiar.
“You’re surnamed Shang?”
“Yes. How do you know?”
He smiled. “I’m Xing Yi. From the neighboring class in high school.”
Shang Zhitao pushed up her hat brim and studied him—it really was him. “What a coincidence.”
They both laughed.
“What do you plan to do with the space?”
“Open a restaurant.”
“This place has seen multiple failed businesses.”
“Not if I’m running it.”
“In that case, since we know each other, let’s make it fifty thousand yuan a year.” Xing Yi lowered the price, eager to lease out the troublesome spot.
“Thank you. Shall we sign the contract?” Shang Zhitao asked.
“Let’s sign it.”
The two of them found a nearby café. Xing Yi went home to fetch the contract, while Shang Zhitao waited, sipping coffee. He returned quickly, placing the contract on the table and removing his coat. As he sat down, he noticed how her hair was flattened by the hat, her face flushed red from the cold.
“You’re just like you were in high school!” Xing Yi remarked.
“Huh?”
“Your eyes—they’re still the same.”
“You remember me from high school?”
“Of course. You were always helping teachers with errands, right?”
“...”
Shang Zhitao hadn’t brought her ID, but Xing Yi didn’t seem to mind. His family owned several properties, all purchased over the years with their savings. A few thousand yuan in rent wasn’t a big deal, and besides, she didn’t strike him as someone untrustworthy.
And so they signed the contract. Shang Zhitao transferred the payment, and Xing Yi handed her the keys. As they parted ways, he said, “Feel free to call if you need anything. After all, we’re classmates—it’s fate.”
When Shang Zhitao got home, she showed the contract to Old Shang and Da Zhai. Their eyes widened in surprise—they hadn’t expected her to be so decisive now. Shang Zhitao herself didn’t realize how much the past six years had changed her. Once she made up her mind, she acted immediately, showing remarkable decisiveness.
The Lunar New Year was approaching, and having settled two major matters before the holiday, she began overseeing renovations for both her new apartment and the restaurant.
That Spring Festival, since Shang Zhitao wasn’t traveling far, the celebration felt especially relaxed. She and Old Shang strolled daily to markets and supermarkets to stock up on New Year goods. She loved the festive atmosphere in Ice City—New Year paintings, couplets, frozen pears, and persimmons spread out on the ground, creating a sea of vibrant red in the distance.
With Luke by her side, she squeezed onto buses with Old Shang. Suddenly, she thought about buying a car—it would make commuting easier in the future. The family had an old car, but Old Shang rarely drove it, and it was due for scrapping.
So she went ahead and put a down payment on an SUV priced at over 200,000 yuan.
Life continued its steady pace.
On New Year’s Eve, she and Luke curled up on the sofa watching the Spring Festival Gala. Distant fireworks echoed outside, but Luke didn’t fuss to go see them. It seemed that as dogs aged, they became less interested in the festivities, much like humans.
Lingmei’s final gift to Shang Zhitao came after the holidays.
In early 2017, shortly after the New Year, Lingmei’s stock soared through five consecutive trading limits, dipped for three days, then surged again for four more sessions. Shang Zhitao grew uneasy and pulled out her phone to check the news. She saw reports of Lingmei’s ambitious move into online advertising. Industry insiders were optimistic about this transformation. While reading the article, she spotted an interview with Luan Nian at the U.S. headquarters—he was as stern-faced as ever.
Under the article, comments praised him: So handsome! I love him. I want to marry him.
She read the interview twice. Luan Nian’s gaze was resolute, confirming the decision was sound. She didn’t rush to sell her shares. If he was confident, so was she. She held on for nearly another month. By mid-to-late March, when the stock price had risen nearly 40%, she sold her shares on a bright, sunny day.
This marked the final severance of her ties with Lingmei.
With the proceeds, she covered the renovation costs for both properties and prepared to start an event planning company.
Starting a business wasn’t easy, especially given the circuitous path this money had taken. Shang Zhitao proceeded cautiously. She conducted market research alone, visiting hotels, scenic spots, and meeting various people to understand Ice City’s event market. After completing her research, she meticulously crafted a budget—registration fees, office rental, staffing, miscellaneous expenses—all clearly outlined.
By June, she rented a 200-square-meter office in a mixed-use residential-commercial complex in the new district. Her company officially launched.
During recruitment, many doubted the viability of this one-person operation. Only a freshly graduated young man named Fu Dong, who had been the sports minister in college, joined her team. Athletic and spirited, he was impressed after a half-hour conversation with Shang Zhitao, finding her knowledgeable and reliable—far superior to typical HR personnel in other companies.
He asked her, “Can you offer a bit more salary?”
“Seven thousand.” Shang Zhitao’s offer was generous for a recent graduate in Ice City. Fu Dong grinned, revealing a row of white teeth. “Alright, boss. Let’s start working today! I’ve got nothing better to do at home.”
Fu Dong, originally from Qiqihar, studied in Ice City, where his parents were teachers. He had no grand ambitions, believing that happiness was enough.
The two of them spent two days setting up computers, phones, plants, and snack cabinets, followed by a day of thorough cleaning. Finally, the office began to take shape.
Sitting in the newly arranged office, Fu Dong couldn’t help but ask, “Boss, may I ask—where will we find clients?”
Shang Zhitao chuckled, took out her phone, and retreated to her office to make a call. When the line connected, she simply said, “Sun Yu, it’s me.”
Time swept over them. Shang Zhitao on one end, Sun Yu on the other, both fell silent, a hint of bittersweetness in the air.
After a long pause, Shang Zhitao heard Sun Yu sniffle, then ask, “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine. Here’s my number.” Shang Zhitao sniffed and continued, “I bought a house—it’s already renovated. I installed a large bookshelf and displayed all the books Sun Yuanzhu gave me. I opened a small restaurant; it’s been operating for a month, and the reviews are great. I also started an event planning company.”
“An event planning company?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have our marketing department contact you. We’re looking for new suppliers for offline events in your province.”
Perhaps this is how all close friendships work—you can go without contact for ages, but when you reach out, they’re there. Shang Zhitao was deeply grateful. “Sun Yu, why don’t you come to Ice City and have a drink with me?”
“I think I can. I’ll come tomorrow.”
Shang Zhitao hosted Lumi and Sun Yu for drinks in her new home.
Luke went wild upon seeing Sun Yu and Lumi, running circles around them, jumping up to hug one, then the other, utterly delighted.
Lumi clutched her bag. “Hey! Little thief! Be careful! This bag is expensive—don’t scratch it!” She set the bag aside, knelt to lift Luke, panting from the effort. “Goodness! Grandma hasn’t skimped on feeding you! If you get any fatter, you won’t find a wife!”
Her new home was beautifully decorated, featuring a spacious balcony filled with flowers and a desk. The pièce de résistance was the massive bookshelf, brimming with books.
Sun Yu stood before the bookshelf for a long time, carefully pulling out a copy of The Hour of the Star . Though the book appeared pristine, Sun Yu knew Sun Yuanzhu must have read it carefully—his note inside read simply: Read.
Sun Yu recalled his habit of writing “Read” during his final days. In the past, his notes had been concise yet thoughtful, often including dates.
Unconsciously, tears streamed down her face, which she quickly wiped away. I am a strong woman in the eyes of the world—I can’t cry so easily.
That evening, they enjoyed Da Zhai’s signature dishes and their favorite pickles.
Shang Zhitao hadn’t invited anyone to her newly renovated home until then. As she finished cleaning, she thought, I should invite Sun Yu and Lumi.
That night, they all drank too much.
With alcohol loosening their tongues, conversations flowed freely.
Lumi called Will, speaking cryptically: “If you mess with me again, I’ll leave without a word. Don’t think I wouldn’t do it—I’m capable. I’ll disappear without telling you where I’ve gone.”
Will asked, “Where are you now?”
“Ice City.”
Shang Zhitao and Sun Yu burst into laughter at Lumi’s words.
The three drunken women laughed uproariously in Shang Zhitao’s new home. Luke sat beside them, bewildered—it was as though he’d never expected to hear such laughter again!
Amidst the laughter, Shang Zhitao was reborn.
Everything was perfect.
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