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Psst! We're moving!
“What do you want to eat?” Sun Yuanzhu asked Sun Yu. Her mascara was smudged around her eyes, making her look utterly disheveled.
Sun Yu shook her head. “I don’t know what I want to eat. I feel like today has been such a disaster. Am I the only one having such a bad day, or is it everyone?”
“You know,” Sun Yu continued, “our startup project couldn’t secure any investment. We didn’t need much money—just time. But no one was willing to give us that.”
“We were targeting the dating market in second- and third-tier cities, but it’s so complicated there. At our event in Handan, someone disrupted us, and one of our members got injured.”
“My foot hurts so much.”
Sun Yu thought she had been strong, but in front of Sun Yuanzhu, she completely broke down. Sun Yuanzhu listened quietly, occasionally handing her a tissue.
By evening, Sun Yu finally felt a little better. She wiped away her last tear and gave a shy smile. “I was such a mess today. Thank you, Sun Yuanzhu. Did I scare you?”
“No.” Sun Yuanzhu thought for a moment, then handed her another tissue. “I have a friend who often tells me he has thoughts of ending his life. When he gets emotional, it’s much worse than what you just went through. It’s nothing. Being able to vent emotions is a good thing.”
“You know what? For me, the best thing that happened was when that real estate agency scammed me, forcing me to live here and meet all of you.”
It was good.
So good.
They both felt that fate often played cruel tricks on people, but it wasn’t always a losing game. Sometimes, after enduring so much bitterness, a bit of sweetness would come along—that was life’s norm.
===
Shang Zhitao’s performance review turned out to be a mere formality. While she presented her report, her colleagues busied themselves with their own tasks. Alex asked a few lukewarm questions, and then submitted the evaluation scores. Shang Zhitao was puzzled—it was nothing like the expert presentations she had heard about. Afterward, she secretly asked Lumi, “Did I pass?”
“Of course.”
“Really? Alex told me that this year, our department has a high percentage of contributions, and since you’ve worked so hard, they naturally let you pass.”
“Will I get a raise?”
“Yes, the increase should be around 15%.”
Shang Zhitao mentally calculated, then widened her eyes in surprise. “15%?! That’s a lot!”
Lumi laughed at her naive reaction. “You’ll go far!”
The two giggled for a while before refocusing on work. In the following summits, Lumi took on the role of project manager, and Shang Zhitao volunteered to handle the organization of the sub-forum meetings to ease Lumi’s workload. She diligently played the part of a reliable colleague.
This kept them busy until August.
Work was like that—once you got caught up in it, life gradually slipped away. Shang Zhitao didn’t yet know how to step back from work. Once she dove in, it was hard to resurface. She was meticulous, and she couldn’t tolerate even the smallest mistake in her tasks. Any minor error left her unable to forgive herself.
At the celebratory dinner after the Luoyang station ended, Shang Zhitao had a little to drink. Feeling relieved, she grabbed Lumi’s hand and asked, “Did I cooperate well?”
“Extremely well,” Lumi gave her a thumbs-up. Then she added, “The company has given our department a special group vacation—four days—to go on a team-building trip. You should take this opportunity to rest properly.”
“Huh?” Shang Zhitao had never heard of a “special group vacation.” “What kind of vacation is this? Do such things even exist?”
“It’s because we’ve been working tirelessly on these projects, so the company decided to reward us with a special vacation and funding. Alex just mentioned wanting to use the weekend to take us to the beach.”
“Wow.”
Shang Zhitao loved the beach, but she rarely had the chance to go.
“So where are we going?”
“Phuket.”
“Wow!”
“Let’s buy bikinis together when we get back to Beijing!”
The word “bikini” took over Shang Zhitao’s mind. She imagined sunshine, sandy beaches, coconut trees, bikini-clad beauties, and foreign guys with six-packs. Humming a tune, she went to her room to grab something, but in the hotel atrium, she saw Luan Nian talking on the phone, his back to her. He seemed to be in a good mood. As she passed by, she overheard him say, “Do you just want a bouquet of flowers?”
“Okay. Then I’ll bring you flowers this weekend.”
Bringing flowers this weekend. As Shang Zhitao walked, she pictured Luan Nian carrying flowers on the street—it would surely turn heads. Suddenly, she decided to go to Mount Tai with her roommates that weekend. She replied in the group chat, “I just confirmed—I can leave on Friday without any issues!” She thought she shouldn’t give up the chance to hang out with friends just because she was supposed to see him on Friday. She should have her own weekend plans—when she wanted to be with him, she’d find him; when she didn’t, she’d arrange her own activities, like now.
Having made up her mind, she began to look forward to it. On Thursday night, she arrived home and carefully listened to Zhang Lei explain the strategy for climbing Mount Tai at night. The four of them unanimously decided to travel light and rent military coats once they reached the summit. The two guys would carry the snacks and fruits, while each person would only carry a bottle of water.
Following Zhang Lei’s advice, Shang Zhitao packed her change of clothes and backpack. The next morning, at five o’clock, she headed to work. Her sense of responsibility and morality gnawed at her, making it impossible to justify skipping work outright. She preferred to arrive early to make up the hours, so she wouldn’t feel guilty when she left.
But during the meeting, when she heard Alex announce that the company’s reward vacation was finalized for Phuket, fully funded by the company, she suddenly changed her mind. She proactively requested leave from Alex: “Can I leave at two o’clock today, Alex?”
“Yes,” Alex replied without even asking the reason, which made Shang Zhitao feel touched.
At two o’clock, she confidently slung her backpack over her shoulder and left the office. She felt a pang of guilt for even considering skipping work. As she exited the elevator, she bumped into Luan Nian, who had just returned from a business trip. His suitcase stood beside him as he casually waited for the elevator. Seeing Shang Zhitao with her backpack, he glanced at his watch and then at her.
Shang Zhitao nervously smiled and greeted him, “Hello, Luke.”
“Skipping work?”
The phrase “skipping work” sent a cold sweat down Shang Zhitao’s spine. She was a little afraid that Luan Nian might lose his temper, especially since Alex hadn’t required her to submit an official leave request online. Worried about implicating Alex, she shot Luan Nian a pleading look. He noticed but pretended not to see it.
He asked again, calmly, “Skipping work?”
Shang Zhitao could tell he was in a bad mood. She knew from experience that arguing with him when he was upset was unwise. So she simply said, “I had something urgent to attend to.”
“Did you report it to Alex and HR?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you going?”
“Climbing a mountain with friends.”
“Today’s Friday.”
“Mm-hmm, yes. We’re leaving today and coming back on Sunday.” Behind them, the elevator doors opened and closed repeatedly, but the awkward standoff between her and Luan Nian persisted. Shang Zhitao understood what he meant by emphasizing that it was Friday, but she chose not to engage.
Not every Friday when you want to see me should I be available. With a faint smile, she said, “I should go, Luke. See you,” and turned to run off.
She boarded the subway and rushed to the train station. It was rare for the group to gather for such a short trip, and everyone was thrilled.
Shang Zhitao’s first-ever night climb was dedicated to Mount Tai. They started at 11 p.m., slowly ascending toward the summit. It was a surreal experience—the temperature gradually dropping, a narrow path winding upward, surrounded by people of all kinds. Even elderly individuals with canes, taking one step at a time, seemed to be on a pilgrimage.
The dim lights along the mountain path were like scattered stars in the mortal world, guiding you toward the vastness of the universe.
Without Luan Nian, Shang Zhitao didn’t find Friday night unpleasant. However, being unused to hiking, the sudden intensity left her a little tired, and she gradually fell behind.
Sun Yuanzhu, hearing no trace of Shang Zhitao’s humming, looked back. Her figure had disappeared. He told Sun Yu and Zhang Lei, “Wait up ahead—I’ll go find Shang Zhitao.”
He moved against the flow of people and found her after climbing over 300 steps. She was wiping sweat, looking a little cold. Seeing Sun Yuanzhu coming to find her, she smiled happily.
The two climbed side by side. Shang Zhitao envied Sun Yuanzhu’s stamina and couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you climb so fast?”
“I grew up in the mountains. As a child, my favorite pastime was climbing.”
“Is it fun up there?”
“There’s a magical world hidden there.”
Shang Zhitao became curious about the “magical world” Sun Yuanzhu spoke of—it sounded fascinating. By the time they reached the Eighteen Bends section, the cliffs were steep, resembling a ladder to heaven. Shang Zhitao’s legs wobbled, but a warm hand firmly grasped hers. Sun Yuanzhu softly said, “Let me help you.”
That warmth pierced through the cold, leaving a fleeting yet profound mark on her body—a gentle touch, like spring rain nourishing the earth, one that would linger in her memory for years.
When they reached the summit, everyone wrapped themselves in military coats. They secured the best spot to watch the sunrise at Yuhuang Peak on Mount Tai and curled up to sleep. The sunrise was scheduled for 5:57 a.m., and before that, the sea of clouds began to appear. Sun Yuanzhu woke them one by one, saying, “It’s about to dawn.”
“It’s about to dawn.”
Sun Yu repeated the phrase softly. They sat side by side, watching the sea of clouds slowly shift colors. When the sun peeked out and finally rose above the clouds, Shang Zhitao heard Sun Yuanzhu whisper, “I wish I could jump into this sea of clouds.”
There were even tears shimmering in his eyes.
No one spoke. They didn’t know what to say, but they all felt that the hardships of the journey had been worth it in this moment. Life needed many such experiences—after enduring hardship, sweetness followed, and all those moments would be worth it.
On their way down, they stopped at the most scenic spots to take photos. Shang Zhitao particularly loved three pictures: one of the four of them standing side by side, bathed in morning light—it captured the best moments of their lives; another of her and Sun Yu, with Sun Yu resting her head on her shoulder, both laughing joyfully; and the last one of her and Sun Yuanzhu, standing at a slight distance apart, as if one of them had said something and they exchanged a glance.
They were in their twenties then. Oh, how wonderful those years were—metabolism was strong, and no matter how much they ate, they wouldn’t gain weight easily. Their faces were youthful and their eyes clear.
The people they met during those years were worth cherishing for a lifetime.
Everything I’m saying is true.
As they enjoyed foot massages, Sun Yu whispered those words repeatedly in Shang Zhitao’s ear, then asked, “Do you think this passage would work as the promotional slogan for our matchmaking event?”
“Yes.”
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