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By Friday, Shang Zhitao’s period had arrived.
She breathed a sigh of relief, though she couldn’t pinpoint why. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d begun to dread going to Luan Nian’s place.
While accompanying Lumi to buy coffee, they bumped into Luan Nian at the café, deep in conversation. After exchanging greetings with him, Lumi turned to Shang Zhitao and joked, “He’s not going to think we’re skipping work again, is he?”
“Aren’t we?” Shang Zhitao blinked innocently. Lumi quickly covered her mouth. “You really are my ancestor—keep it down! Still having iced Americanos?”
Shang Zhitao shook her head. “No, I’m not feeling up for it today.” As she said this, her voice was slightly louder than usual, just enough for others nearby to overhear. She wanted Luan Nian to hear, implying that she wouldn’t be visiting him tonight.
“Ohhh,” Lumi responded with two drawn-out syllables before asking, “So, what are your plans for the weekend?”
“Hanging out with my roommate.”
“Where to?”
“Wutaishan.”
“Wow, fancy!”
Lumi grabbed their coffees and handed Shang Zhitao a hot one. “Every day it’s either work or play—when will you settle down? You’re 25 now, right?”
“Uh… isn’t 25 still young? Grace said she got married at 30.”
“That’s true. But you’ll need a few years of dating first, right? Remember that guy I mentioned last year? He’s still single. How about this—we’ll all have dinner together tonight?”
Shang Zhitao wanted to decline but suddenly recalled what Luan Nian had said the other day: “I’m on a date—with Teacher Gong Yue.” Since then, aside from work-related matters, they hadn’t exchanged a single word. She knew Luan Nian was waiting for her to cave—to show up at his place over the weekend like always, so things could return to how they used to be: her obedient, him in control.
“Sure.”
“Great! Let me set it up!” The two left the café, and as they exited, Lumi glanced back inside and suddenly whispered to Shang Zhitao, “Holy crap, do you think Luke is glaring at me?”
Shang Zhitao looked inside. Luan Nian was casually leaning back on the sofa, his arm resting on the armrest, deep in conversation. He wasn’t paying them any attention.
“You’re probably just paranoid about skipping work…” Shang Zhitao teased her.
“Am I hallucinating? Am I blind?” Lumi muttered to herself.
Shang Zhitao carefully crafted a message to Luan Nian: “I’m not feeling well this week, so I won’t come over.” Feeling the tone sounded too confrontational, as if challenging him, she softened it to: “I’m not feeling well this week, so I won’t come over, okay!” Luan Nian didn’t reply.
That evening, she genuinely went out to dinner with Lumi. Lumi’s childhood friend was just as talkative as she was—a man who exuded wealth. His wrists were adorned with various prayer beads, a fine piece of jade hung around his neck, along with lapis lazuli and amber accessories. Despite it only being spring, he even carried an ornate folding fan—it was quite the eccentric outfit. Upon meeting Shang Zhitao, he immediately remarked, “Young lady, your figure is quite elegant.”
Shang Zhitao had never encountered someone who complimented her figure so directly; her face instantly flushed red. Seeing her blush, Lumi’s friend exclaimed, “Damn, how long has it been since I’ve seen a girl blush like this?”
Lumi kicked him under the table. “Shut your mouth already!” She apologized to Shang Zhitao with a sheepish smile. “He’s always like this—not a bad person, but his mouth runs wild. Don’t take it personally.” Just a few bites into the meal, Lumi began to feel irritated by her own friend, wondering why she hadn’t noticed his obnoxiousness before. Deep down, she adored Shang Zhitao so much that even her wealthy childhood friend seemed unworthy of her.
Shang Zhitao found them amusing and giggled throughout the meal. They laughed so hard that Lumi kept slapping her friend, who begged for mercy while Shang Zhitao repeatedly tried to mediate with “It’s fine, it’s fine!” After dinner, the friend turned to Shang Zhitao and said earnestly, “Young lady, I’ll be honest—I really like you. But I’m fickle, and I’m afraid you might suffer because of me. If…”
“Would you shut up already!” Lumi smacked him. “What ‘if’ are you talking about? Go look in the mirror! It’s been over a year since we last saw each other—how did you become such a windbag? Get lost!” She cursed him out thoroughly before dragging Shang Zhitao away.
Even after walking halfway around Houhai Lake, Lumi was still apologizing. “I’m so sorry—it was embarrassing. He’s usually not like this.”
“It’s fine. I thought he was hilarious. I laughed so much my stomach hurts.” The two walked arm-in-arm, and Shang Zhitao finally remembered Kitty’s accusation of bribery. She asked Lumi, “How should I deal with this situation?”
“I’ll tell him he’s engaging in quid pro quo with his superior! Does she think whatever she says goes? That’s impossible. What does Manager Wang say?”
“I called him, but he didn’t pick up.”
“He didn’t answer?”
“No.”
If Manager Wang didn’t answer, it likely meant there was an issue, but Shang Zhitao felt confident in her integrity and wasn’t afraid. Lumi glanced at her, sensing that the matter wasn’t simple. “That brat Kitty must be up to something nasty.”
“I don’t know.”
“One step at a time. If it gets bad, go to Luke—he’s your boss now. If someone in the department is being wrongfully accused, he should step in, right?”
Shang Zhitao remained silent. She didn’t tell Lumi about how deeply hurt she felt by Luan Nian’s lack of trust. This betrayal cut deeper than any before, suffocating her every time she thought about it.
She couldn’t understand why she desperately sought Luan Nian’s approval—why was his validation so important?
In the dead of night, the spring air heavy and still, she stared blankly at the shifting shadows of the moon and clouds outside. Suddenly, she realized that despite claiming she cared nothing for being reported, she had subconsciously taken it to heart.
Though fear lingered and unease gnawed at her, she refused to seek help from Luan Nian, believing it would be meaningless.
The next morning, dark circles still lingered under her eyes as they set off early. Zhang Lei came to pick them up in his newly promoted vehicle—a large SUV. Four people and a dog crammed inside, feeling like old times. They drove toward Shanxi.
The highways were perpetually under construction those years, with stretches of bumpy roads. The group bounced around in the car, laughing hysterically while Luke occasionally barked from the trunk to add to the merriment.
By the time they reached Wutaishan, it was already evening.
They enjoyed a vegetarian meal infused with the scent of incense, followed by some moon gazing. Sun Yuanzhu carried his beloved camera, capturing silhouettes bathed in moonlight. Four figures sat side by side in the courtyard, none eager to sleep, each silently wishing for blessings during the first incense offering the next day. Everyone had countless wishes.
Shang Zhitao brought along two olive pit carvings purchased during a business trip to Suzhou, intending to have them blessed. Though she had once believed in nothing, these past few days she suddenly felt uneasy, sensing misfortune looming over her. She sought peace of mind and smooth sailing ahead.
The two olive pit carvings were of two adorable figures: a boy and a girl. The boy was depicted herding cattle, while the girl was reading a book. Hand-carved, each had cost over a thousand yuan. Shang Zhitao didn’t even know why she’d been so drawn to these trinkets, but in the end, she’d gone ahead and bought them.
She hoped the monk would chant a few extra prayers during the consecration, so the Buddha might hear.
“What will you pray for tomorrow when we burn incense?” Shang Zhitao asked Sun Yu.
After a moment’s thought, Sun Yu replied, “For my beloved to live a long life, and for success in my career.”
“What if you could only pray for one thing?”
“Then I’d pray for my beloved to live a long life.”
There was a faint glimmer of tears in Sun Yu’s eyes, but they disappeared as quickly as they had appeared when she lowered and raised her head again. Occasionally, she glanced at Sun Yuanzhu, her gaze carrying something Shang Zhitao couldn’t quite decipher.
“What about you?” Zhang Lei asked Shang Zhitao.
“I… I’ll pray for my career…” Shang Zhitao lied. What did she really want to pray for? She wanted to pray for love.
Everyone else went inside to sleep, but Shang Zhitao stayed in the courtyard and called Luan Nian. It was noisy on his end. Shang Zhitao asked him, “Where are you?”
“At a bar.”
“Any events today?”
“Yeah.”
The late spring evening breeze blew against her, trying to awaken her. But Shang Zhitao was just twenty-five years old—still in that restless phase of youth where unresolved questions consumed her thoughts until she found clarity.
“Luan Nian, there’s something I want to say to you.”
“Hold on.” Luan Nian stepped out of the bar and stood in the parking lot. The same late spring breeze rustled around him. He felt his heartbeat quicken slightly—or perhaps it was just his imagination.
“Luan Nian, there’s so much I want to say. Let me start from the beginning.”
“I’m not a casual person. I’ve only ever had one real relationship before you. I’ve never had a one-night stand with anyone, neither before nor after you.”
“At first, I didn’t understand my own feelings. I didn’t know why things started the way they did between us. But over time, I began to understand you... I privately thought I understood you better than anyone else...”
“I started to feel dissatisfied. Luan Nian, I want to ask you...” Shang Zhitao paused. She still had one last chance to stay silent, to keep pretending, to weave the fantasy that Luan Nian might have some affection for her. But she couldn’t anymore. Four years had passed. If she hadn’t received what she longed for in those four years, why would it come now? It wouldn’t. Shang Zhitao gave up this chance.
“I want to ask you—can we date like normal people? Date, raise a dog together—I think you seem to like Luke. Watch movies, eat meals, go shopping together. Maybe someday, if the timing is right, we can get married and have one or two kids...” These fragmented, beautiful imaginings of Luan Nian had lingered in her mind over the years. She wasn’t someone who often dreamed, but occasionally, she’d have dreams like this. She truly liked Luan Nian—more than she’d liked Xin Zhaozhou. So much so that she felt she’d never like another man again in her life. She was foolish.
Shang Zhitao finished speaking and waited quietly for Luan Nian’s verdict. But he remained silent, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Finally, she said, “Can you say something?”
Luan Nian finally spoke. “I hope you can calm down. Because I don’t intend to change the current state of our relationship. I’m not prepared to take another step forward.”
“Why? I thought that after four years together, many things have changed. At least, they’ve grown deeper than when we started.” Her voice and hands trembled slightly, though she didn’t notice.
“They’ve changed, but not enough for me to feel like I should be in a romantic relationship or marriage with you. You’re still young and uncertain about everything. Even though you say now that you want to be with me, tomorrow you’ll still go to a blind date and meet other men. I’m not interested in dating someone like that.”
“I was just helping Sun Yu.”
“Really?” Luan Nian asked. “Are you sure? Is it really just to help Sun Yu that you attend matchmaking events every week? Is it really just to make friends that you live ambiguously with another man? Sorry, but I think being casual partners suits us better.”
Shang Zhitao didn’t respond. She didn’t know what to say. Her earlier impulsiveness had clearly led to self-humiliation. Suddenly, she realized that Luan Nian’s apparent concern for her was nothing more than a grand illusion on her part.
“I understand.”
Shang Zhitao hung up the phone.
In everyone’s life, there comes a time when they act completely out of control, without regard for consequences—a single reckless moment of abandonment. Well, she thought—it was good. The other shoe in her heart had finally dropped.
Luan Nian ended the call and walked back into the bar. Tan Mian asked him, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“But you look upset.”
“I’m fine.”
The bar was lively, but he sat there feeling somewhat detached. Gong Yue asked him, “Still not drinking tonight?”
“No.”
“Want to take a walk together?”
“No.”
Luan Nian stood up, unable to pinpoint his emotions. He was unafraid of rejecting others and excelled at it. Several times a year, he would decisively turn down women. It had never bothered him—until now. For the first time, something weighed heavily on his heart. He didn’t want to be shackled by love. All relationships became entangled with mutual constraints, possessiveness, and trivialities once they grew closer. He disliked that. Though his feelings for Shang Zhitao were different, he didn’t believe they were strong enough to warrant entering a romantic relationship.
He had been too hasty.
Calling others immature—he was the most immature of all.
Shang Zhitao still had the two figurines blessed by the monk—one for herself and one for Luan Nian. Her prayers were simple: for peaceful sleep and smooth days.
On their way down the mountain, there was a tree by the roadside with branches stretching out, already showing signs of summer’s lushness. Shang Zhitao tied the carving of the boy herding cattle to one of the branches. A sliver of light filtered through the carved grooves, illuminating the boy’s face in a warm glow.
It reminded her of the first flush of infatuation.
But such moments would never return.
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