Chapter 40: Why Not Be Together?

Shang Zhitao had eaten a little too much and felt her blood sugar rising, which gave her a blissful, dizzying sense of satisfaction. She quickly showered, climbed into bed, turned her phone to silent mode, and buried herself under the covers for a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, Luan Nian was at a bar with Tan Mian. After setting down his glass, he glanced at his phone.

“Did you make plans with someone tonight? Why are you constantly checking your phone?” Tan Mian asked.

“Nothing.”

Luan Nian felt disinterested. Watching the singer on stage, he turned to Tan Mian and asked, “What do you think about me opening a bar?”

“A bar? Beijing already has more bars than it needs.”

“On a mountain, like a private club. Only open to a select few.”

“How would you make a profit?”

“If I decide to open it, I won’t lose money.”

“At least three million in initial investment.”

“Money isn’t an issue.”

“Right, I forgot—you’re from a wealthy family.” Tan Mian teased him. “I’ll help you scout locations when you’re ready. Do you have any place in mind yet?”

“Not yet. It’s just an idea for now.” Sometimes Luan Nian felt bored and thought finding something extra to do might make life more interesting. The song on stage had shifted to “The South,” and as he glanced at his phone again, it lit up—it was Zang Yao.

Tan Mian, with sharp eyes, spotted Zang Yao’s name and raised his eyebrows before moving to another seat.

“Where are you?” Zang Yao’s voice carried a hint of sadness.

“I’m at a bar.”

“Can I come visit you in Beijing?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I want to move to Beijing. I’ve had enough of Guangzhou—I’m sick of it.” Suddenly, she started crying. “I’m so tired of Guangzhou. I want to come find you.”

“Okay. Come.”

Luan Nian couldn’t remember how many times Zang Yao had moved since he’d known her. From the moment they met, she was always wandering, never staying in one place for long.

“Thank you.” Zang Yao thanked him softly and hung up.

Tan Mian returned to his seat, laughing. “So you were waiting for Zang Yao’s call.”

“No.”

“Then why were you constantly checking your phone?” Tan Mian pressed.

“There might be work-related calls.” Luan Nian said this, but the work call he was expecting hadn’t come.

“So what did Zang Yao say?”

“She wants to stay in Beijing for a while.”

“That’s good. Your house is big. In my opinion, you two should stop being so awkward. Now that she’s coming, take care of things and be together already.” Tan Mian joked around. Zang Yao had been part of their circle for years, and the ambiguity between her and Luan Nian made their friends bet on when they’d finally get together.

Luan Nian didn’t respond.

His relationship with Zang Yao wasn’t what Tan Mian imagined. Zang Yao was a close friend, so close that he felt no desire for her.

“Let her stay at your place. I’ll cover the rent.” Luan Nian didn’t want to live with Zang Yao—once they shared a space, things would become even more complicated.

“Does Miss Zang lack rent money? What she lacks is your action to sweep her off her feet.” Tan Mian teased.

Luan Nian didn’t want to discuss his relationship with Zang Yao further. In fact, even among his closest friends, he rarely shared details about his private life. Besides, he didn’t really have much of a private life these days.

This night felt unbearably dull. Nothing could spark his interest—until two women walked by, and he suddenly remembered Shang Zhitao in her cheerleading outfit.

After drinking, Luan Nian returned home. The weekend’s promise of good sleep eluded him, so he picked up a book lying nearby. His thoughts drifted to Shang Zhitao—had she resolved her issue? She hadn’t reached out to him this time, so where had things gotten stuck?

The supplier called him, and he picked up to hear, “The issue is resolved. We’ll rerun the data immediately. Just wanted to keep you informed.”

“How was it resolved?” If the issue was resolved, why hadn’t Shang Zhitao said anything to him?

“Alex called me and explained the situation. We’ve been working together for so long—a small mistake here and there doesn’t matter.吃亏是福 (Eating a loss brings blessings).” The supplier, clever as ever, didn’t mention Alex’s promise to compensate in future projects. But Luan Nian knew.

Shang Zhitao had handled it well—she knew exactly who could save her and acted smartly.

“Did Flora send you the new brief?”

“Yes, she sent it this afternoon.”

“Good.”

Shang Zhitao had sent the new brief to the supplier. She had made such a major mistake but hadn’t offered a single explanation. When Luan Nian called her directly, she didn’t answer. All the harsh words he had prepared were stuck in his throat—without her answering, his anger had nowhere to go.

Luan Nian stewed in silence.

He rarely held grudges. Growing up, he had always been formidable, and people tended to let him have his way. Even in the workplace, he was more domineering than others. In his past few relationships, he didn’t play the gentleman—he didn’t need to argue with his ex-girlfriends because his biting remarks would quickly extinguish any fight. Crying or throwing tantrums never worked on Luan Nian—his exes knew that.

He was angry because Shang Zhitao had made such a huge mistake and hadn’t explained it to him. She had gone about her life, eating, having fun, and resolving the issue with a single call to her direct superior without considering that if he hadn’t caught the error, it could have caused significant damage to the company. How would she survive in the company after that?

That frustration coiled in his chest, unable to escape or dissipate, leaving him simmering in silence. By Sunday evening, after finishing his workout at home and heading to the kitchen to prepare something to eat, his phone lit up. Shang Zhitao had messaged him: “Luke, hello. Alex asked me to confirm with you—if you’ll be attending next week’s marketing department meeting?”

Not a word about her mistake.

Shang Zhitao didn’t want to mention it. What was there to say? He had scolded her mercilessly, docked her bonus, and barred her from promotions and raises for a year. When Kitty’s creative submission had issues once, the client nearly terminated the contract—it was only Luan Nian’s intervention that saved the day, yet he hadn’t said a word about it then. People in the company said he protected his own. His harshness toward Shang Zhatiao was simply because she wasn’t one of “his.”

“Why didn’t Alex ask me himself? Is your marketing department so short-staffed that they sent you?” Even in his anger, Luan Nian still tried to reason, though he rarely reasoned with Shang Zhitao.

Seeing him act unreasonably again, Shang Zhitao replied, “Then I’ll let Alex ask you himself. He was tied up with other work earlier, so he casually asked me to check. Sorry for disturbing you.”

After sending the message, Shang Zhitao called Alex: “Luke said you should ask him yourself.”

“Hmm? Is he in a bad mood?”

“I don’t know.” How would I know whether he’s in a good or bad mood? We’re not close.

After hanging up, Shang Zhitao went to do laundry, completely dismissing Luan Nian as irrelevant. If you’re going to be mean to me, then fine—I don’t like you anymore either! At this moment, she was still the naive, inexperienced person she had always been. She thought she was challenging her boss, but deep down, she was challenging someone she liked—though she refused to admit it even to herself.

On Monday morning, when Shang Zhitao greeted the stern-faced Luan Nian with a smile and stood in the elevator corner as usual, he ignored her completely. The elevator doors opened, and he walked out without a glance. That frustration was still lodged in his chest, making him ignore her entirely. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder—why, out of all the hours in a day, did he always seem to run into Shang Zhitao?

Shang Zhitao sat at her desk and began working diligently. After making a serious mistake that nearly ruined her first project, she was extra cautious, determined not to err again. When Lumi came by and saw her focused work, she teased, “Model worker, ‘Form’ sister, our company’s outstanding employee—is this what working looks like?”

Shang Zhitao laughed at her joke and then confided about her incorrect brief submission: “I can’t afford to make mistakes again. I need to work hard.”

“Is Luke docking your bonus and barring you from promotions and raises for a year?” Lumi was surprised. Even when strict, Luan Nian had never completely blocked someone’s career path. He was just harsh with his words—if he went all out, it meant the other party truly deserved it. But this time, the other party was harmless Shang Zhitao. After serious thought, Lumi couldn’t help but ask, “Little Peach, think carefully—did you offend Luke somehow?”

“I didn’t.” How dare I offend him? Then she asked, “Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s obvious Luke is making things difficult for you. How else do you explain this?”

“It’s not the first time Luke has made things difficult for me—I’ve been advised to quit multiple times.” Shang Zhitao smiled, turned back to her work, and stopped discussing the matter.

Though Shang Zhitao tried to act unaffected, she was still a proud person at heart. Her tiny shred of dignity had been crushed by Luan Nian, leaving her unwilling to face him.

Twice, Lumi and Alex asked her to coordinate with Luan Nian on project progress, but she politely declined, avoiding him. She timed her departure to catch the last bus, and if her work wasn’t done, she took her laptop home.

The project data began to trickle in.

Shang Zhitao had expected the data to be complex but found it far more intricate than anticipated. While she wasn’t responsible for the analysis, she needed to understand it. She immersed herself in industry data for hours on end. A colleague from the business analysis team told her that data had a kind of logical beauty—finding patterns and breakthroughs within the chaos was one thing, but understanding and analyzing it were two different challenges.

Shang Zhitao tried to uncover the “logical beauty” her colleague described but failed, leaving her a bit disheartened. What was logic? Why didn’t she have it? She discussed this with Sun Yuanzhu, who suggested she practice logical thinking.

“For example?”

“For example...” Sun Yuanzhu spoke halfway through the call, then chuckled. “How about I start a class this weekend?”

“That would be great.”

“Don’t stress too much about work. Don’t think you’re invincible—one person can’t do everything. Recognize your limits and learn to show vulnerability. Lowering your boss’s expectations of you is also a form of upward management.”

I can’t lower them.

My boss thinks I’m worthless anyway.

Shang Zhitao thought to herself. After hanging up, she headed toward the office area, bumping into Luan Nian at the automatic doors. She hadn’t seen him in days and gave a perfunctory greeting: “Hello, Luke.”

“How’s the data recovery going?” Luan Nian suddenly asked, catching her off guard.

He seemed to be in a good mood, hands in his pockets, waiting for her reply.

“We’ve recovered data from three industries so far. Next, a professional business analysis team will step in.”

“Mm, good luck.”

“Thank you.”

People passed by, and Shang Zhitao didn’t want to talk to him in public—it would make him look like a magnanimous boss and her like an incompetent underling. She smiled at Luan Nian: “Sorry, Luke, I have work to handle. I’ll organize the project progress you’re concerned about and send it to Alex and you later, okay?”

“Sure.” Luan Nian smiled warmly, like a gentle spring breeze.

Shang Zhitao couldn’t read him, so she chose not to look at him. Nodding slightly, she walked away, her back radiating stubbornness. This time, her defiance was unmistakable—and Luan Nian noticed it.