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Shang Zhitao thought: Once in a lifetime is enough for the Dunhuang 108. It was truly exhausting.
When she woke up the next morning, her legs felt like they weren’t her own. That wasn’t the worst part—the biggest challenge was tonight, when they would have to sleep in tents. Sleeping in tents should have been nice; at least the stars in the desert were bound to be beautiful. But Shang Zhitao was completely dreading it now.
She woke up early to oversee the breakfast buffet and saw Luan Nian, who had risen even earlier, standing at the restaurant entrance. His eyes fell on her slow-moving legs: “You need to exercise more.”
“I don’t hike every day,” Shang Zhitao muttered in protest against Luan Nian’s teasing, though softly.
“Your physical stamina isn’t great either.” Luan Nian’s words hinted at something, knowing how Shang Zhitao often played the victim. He secretly enjoyed it when she acted this way.
...
Her face flushed red, and she looked down, counting meal tickets.
Luan Nian stood there watching her count, observing as the flush on her cheeks slowly faded, returning to normal. Then he called her: “Flora.”
“Hmm?”
“How about having dinner together when we get back to Beijing?” Luan Nian mimicked Dony’s tone, seemingly teasing her but with a serious expression.
“Sorry, I’m very busy.”
“Then stay busy.” Luan Nian vaguely worried that Shang Zhitao might succumb to Dony’s authority and actually dine with him. He didn’t want to think about the consequences because he wouldn’t allow it to happen.
Gradually, clients began arriving at the restaurant, and Luan Nian greeted them enthusiastically. Watching him socialize so earnestly, Shang Zhitao also threw herself into her work. After sitting for a while, she noticed Luan Nian sitting down, chatting with two clients.
Shang Zhitao didn’t know how their peculiar默契 (tacit understanding) developed, perhaps from spending enough time together to become familiar. For instance, at this moment, Shang Zhitao understood what Luan Nian meant—he was essentially saying: Stay away from Dony.
She replied to him: “I won’t have dinner with Dony. I only eat with Luke, and sleep with him too.” A playful impulse suddenly arose in Shang Zhitao, and she wanted to see Luan Nian’s reaction to such a message.
Luan Nian pulled out his phone to read her message. Shang Zhitao saw the corner of his mouth twitch slightly, forming a faint smile, before replying: “Alright, let’s sleep together when we return to Beijing,” and putting his phone back in his pocket.
What a dog.
The words popped into her mind. That dog-like man, Luan Nian, was protecting her, albeit indirectly.
By the time they checked everyone’s gear, the male colleagues from the marketing department had been trained by Luan Nian and were checking everyone’s equipment competently. Everything was proceeding smoothly. This was likely one of Luan Nian’s strengths—no matter how chaotic the situation, he could quickly make judgments and turn things around.
On the third day, although slower than the previous day, the scenery was even more stunning. Everyone started taking various photos, enjoying the desert, and their spirits lifted again. Lumi deliberately walked behind with Shang Zhitao, her hand resting on Shang Zhitao’s shoulder. She glanced at Dony, who was talking to a girl from the planning department. That girl usually didn’t get along well with Kitty. And where was Kitty? She gave them a disdainful look.
“Can I see today’s room assignments?”
“No need to look. I’ve already arranged them.” Lumi snorted: “Interesting.” The master-apprentice duo had already developed sufficient默契 (tacit understanding). Many times, Shang Zhitao didn’t need to say anything; Lumi could discern her thoughts.
That night, Shang Zhitao and Lumi sat by the window, curtains drawn, lights off inside. A camcorder was set up, the light across turned on momentarily, silhouettes overlapping briefly, then off again. Shang Zhitao said to Lumi: “So thrilling.”
Lumi patted her head: “More thrilling than a blockbuster. Tsk tsk.”
Shang Zhitao felt incredibly fortunate to have met someone like Lumi. The two of them took turns guarding that window, seeking a lifeline for Shang Zhitao’s potential entrapment.
The day they returned to Beijing was a Sunday.
After just a few days away, summer in Beijing seemed to have ended. When Shang Zhitao entered, Sun Yuanzhu was brushing Luke’s fur. She placed her luggage by the door, feeling overwhelmed by Luke’s enthusiastic welcome. Sun Yuanzhu sat on the sofa watching their lively reunion.
Shang Zhitao pushed Luke aside and sat cross-legged opposite Sun Yuanzhu in the living room: “All better now?”
“Yes.” Sun Yuanzhu transformed back into that sunny, youthful man, leaning forward to thank Shang Zhitao: “Thank you, Miss Shang Zhitao, for taking care of me that day.”
Seeing Sun Yuanzhu’s gentle gaze, a sense of stability washed over Shang Zhitao, calming her heart that had been disturbed by Dony’s harassment: “Should we celebrate?”
“Sure. I feel like going for a walk.”
“Let’s go.”
Shang Zhitao jumped up, and Luke did too. Sun Yuanzhu leashed Luke: “Let’s take him along.”
They stepped out, walking through streets occasionally lined with fallen leaves. Sun Yuanzhu rarely spoke, and Shang Zhitao quietly walked beside him. She wanted to ask about that call of “Tao Tao,” but ultimately didn’t. She merely tilted her head up to look at him; he was quiet, exuding a certain aloofness. His stories were hidden behind his glasses—if he lowered his head, you’d never see them.
They passed a newsstand. Those years, newsstands were becoming fewer, and the people handing out newspapers in subways disappeared overnight. Many began counting on their fingers how long it would take for a new era to arrive—wondering who would board the train and who would be left behind by the times.
Shang Zhitao didn’t understand Sun Yuanzhu’s work. She imagined it involved writing a program and embedding it in a system, allowing driverless cars to speed freely on the northwest highways.
That must be romantic.
Human imagination was inherently romantic.
They walked along the streets of North Fifth Ring Road, not knowing for how long. Finally, unable to contain her anxiety, Shang Zhitao spoke to Sun Yuanzhu about Dony. She said: “Do you know? I’m actually quite scared. I’ll refuse him, but I don’t know if he’ll become angry out of embarrassment.”
“I see… Let me think about it. Do you think he’s a repeat offender?”
“I do.” Shang Zhitao was certain Dony was a repeat offender, handling such matters skillfully, leaving no evidence.
Sun Yuanzhu nodded: “If he’s a repeat offender, sooner or later, he’ll slip up. Let me think if there’s any way.”
Shang Zhitao smiled at him: “I don’t know why, but I feel like you’ll have a solution. And it’ll be the best one in the world.”
“That may not necessarily be true—it might be something unspeakable.”
The autumn breeze picked up, signaling a beautiful season. At this moment, Luan Nian’s car was parked across the street, watching Sun Yuanzhu walking Luke, with Shang Zhitao strolling beside him. They looked like an ordinary family of three, radiating simple happiness.
He finally understood why Shang Zhitao always left on Saturdays. She was eager to escape from his house because she wanted to return to the real and comforting life. Her gaze toward Sun Yuanzhu held affection she herself didn’t realize.
Luan Nian started the car.
A sudden whim struck him to go bartending. The bartending tools had arrived but hadn’t been touched. He had never actively sought her out before; this was the first time. He once impulsively promised to mix her the bar’s first drink. Driving up the mountain, employees were already preparing for the bar’s official opening. Seeing Luan Nian, they greeted him, and he nodded.
He was extremely idle today.
Sundays without much to do cut sharply between workdays and leisure. Idle yet uninteresting.
Standing in front of the bar, behind him was a full set of bartending tools. He thought for a moment and started mixing a “White Lady.” He brushed the rim of the glass with syrup and rolled it in crushed rose petals, resembling a woman dressed to the nines. Luan Nian had studied bartending for some time; changing the base liquor was the core difference in cocktails.
He mixed drinks freely, not adhering to strict rules—as long as they tasted good.
The first drink originally promised to Shang Zhitao, he drank himself. Tan Mian’s call came just in time, asking where he was. He said he was on the mountain.
“Can you drink today?”
“Yes.”
Luan Nian felt this place was perfect. Sitting by the large floor-to-ceiling windows of the bar, one could see the early autumn in the mountains. There were always scattered individuals willing to drive dozens of kilometers for this autumn scenery.
By the time Tan Mian arrived, Luan Nian was taking photos. Green tea leaves in the glass had bloomed, placed on the table by the window. Nearby lay a book, exquisite taste evident.
He squatted on the ground, finding angles, ensuring the shot had depth. Click, satisfied with the result.
“You’re pretty free today.”
Luan Nian looked at him: “And you’re not?”
Tan Mian leaned back on the sofa: “Who drives here if not free? Such a hard place to find.” Looking around, appreciating Luan Nian’s refined taste: “Nice setup.”
“Overpraised.”
“Just in time, our company is organizing an exchange event. Let’s hold it here.”
“Thanks for the business.”
Luan Nian’s sentences came out like popping beans, surprisingly rare for him—not particularly taciturn with friends.
Seeing Tan Mian focusing on taking photos, he asked: “In a bad mood?”
?
“I asked if you’re in a bad mood.”
“No.”
“Then want to go out for a few drinks?”
“I run a bar—you want me to go out drinking?”
“Then drink here.”
“I’m not treating.”
“I’ll treat, alright?” Tan Mian realized Luan Nian was indeed in a bad mood, letting him have his way. If he didn’t indulge him now, what could he do? His sharp tongue was notorious!
“I’ll call a few people to come drink, support Mr. Luan’s new business.” He glanced at Luan Nian, who didn’t even lift his head.
Tan Mian made several calls: “Come drink.” Within two hours, seven or eight men and women gathered. Two girls Luan Nian hadn’t seen before. Tan Mian pointed to one and told Luan Nian: Teaches Western literature at university, parents abroad, wealthy background. Mainly look at the girl’s appearance—one pair of affectionate eyes, delicate hands, planting flowers and admiring the moon when idle, reading and writing when busy. Isn’t she a match for your artistic pursuits?
Luan Nian didn’t even raise his head, blandly saying: “Not bad.”
“Since it’s not bad, why not go over for a drink?”
“Are you mixing?”
“I don’t know how. You mix and come over.”
A few people sat by the window drinking, occasionally glancing at Luan Nian. By the end, Luan Nian became more casual since Tan Mian was paying. Finally, he mixed himself a “Black Russian”—easy to drink, but vodka burns like hell.
Holding his drink, he joined them, chatting casually. Night fell completely.
Before leaving, Tan Mian stopped the girl and Luan Nian: “Exchange contact details. Gong Yue often organizes student activities. I think this place is suitable.”
The intention to play matchmaker was clear.
“Thank you for the consideration.”
Luan Nian took out his phone, exchanging contacts with Gong Yue. Only then did he notice his phone exploding with messages. After seeing them off, he went through each one. Among them were two from Shang Zhitao. She said: Luke, the budget plan has been sent to your email.
And another: “If you’re not traveling next week, can you help take care of Luke?”
Luan Nian replied: “No.”
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