HYAT - 38

The first snow of the new year fell from Chinese New Year’s Eve until the morning of New Year’s Day.

When Shen Qianzhan woke up, the world outside her window was a vast white, indistinguishable in its end and beginning.

To air out the room, her window was left ajar, causing the sheer curtains to gently flutter in the snowy breeze.

Shen Qianzhan picked up her phone and checked the time—eight in the morning, her usual waking hour on workdays.

She hugged her phone, staring blankly at the chandelier on the ceiling.

Last night, after dropping off Su Zan and Ji Qinghe at the courtyard house, she didn’t linger and returned home. She arrived at ten o’clock, where her parents were chatting in the living room, waiting for her.

The long-unwatched TV in the living room was broadcasting the Spring Festival Gala, amidst the laughter and noise, there was a hint of expectation in her mother’s eyes.

Shen Qianzhan consciously went back to her room, grabbed a blanket, and accompanied her parents to watch the gala.

Her mother was quite interested in traditional programs. Shen Qianzhan listened to her and her father discuss the old artists who had performed on the Spring Festival Gala for decades, while she distractedly peeled an orange, lost in thought.

When she allowed her mind to wander, her hands would always fiddle with something. The unfortunate orange she chose was meticulously cleaned of its peel and pith, and even when she fed it into her mouth, she mechanically dictated how many bites it should be.

Her mother called her three times before she finally came back to reality: “What?”

“Here’s your New Year’s money,” her mother handed her a red envelope, then patted her father: “Where’s yours?”

Her father unhurriedly handed over the red envelope that had been pressed under the ashtray: “What’s the rush? Would I ever short my daughter?”

Amidst the stirring background music of the gala, her father looked at her with a smile and said, “A few years ago, your mom and I felt your state wasn’t right, and we always wanted to persuade you to come back. This time we came to Beijing, besides seeing your maternal grandfather, we also wanted to understand your life.”

Shen Qianzhan smiled and asked, “This much time probably isn’t enough for you two to understand.”

“We have no intention of prying into your life. Knowing that your work is going well, your life is fulfilling, and your mindset is optimistic is enough,” her father sighed, his tone distant: “Ever since you came to Beijing, your mom and I have felt you’re drifting further and further away from us. I’m very happy that my daughter has a vast world to showcase her abilities, and I’m also relieved that you have your current vision and competence in dealing with things.”

For so many years, her parents, besides trying to persuade her on the matter of marriage with reason and emotion, rarely spoke so candidly.

Shen Qianzhan very cooperatively put on a pleased expression: “I’m very happy to receive such praise from you.” She glanced at her mother, subtly complaining: “I thought you two would rather I be immersed in romance.”

Her father must have reached some kind of understanding with her mother, speaking on her behalf throughout: “You can’t misunderstand your mom on this. Doesn’t she support your career? She supports it the most. She’ll proudly tell everyone that her daughter has her own ideas, is independent and brave, just like a Disney princess. She urges you so insistently purely out of love and care for you. Our social circles are different from yours. You keep talking about financial independence, life independence, and spatial independence. Your mom and I don’t dare to get too involved in your life, and sometimes when we ask a few questions, we’re afraid of annoying you.”

As he spoke, he even sounded a little wronged: “Have you ever seen parents who come to Beijing to see their daughter, only daring to call after their plane landed because they were scared?”

Shen Qianzhan sincerely apologized: “I was wrong. I neglected to care for you two.”

Her father waved his hand, indicating that wasn’t his point: “After this year, you’ll be thirty. Thirty and established.”

“In terms of life and work, you can already stand on your own two feet and take responsibility with your own abilities. So, what about your life goals and development? Do you have any new insights this year?”

Shen Qianzhan wondered how many more turns her father would take before getting to the point. She curled her lips, feigning ignorance: “What kind of life goals are you referring to? I just set a small goal of a hundred million.”

Her personality was distinct; her joy and anger were clear at a glance. She usually became thorny when conversations didn’t go her way, regardless of familiarity.

Her father, though pricked by her thorns, didn’t pull back. He slowly sipped his tea from his cup: “Just chatting casually, why are you nervous?”

Shen Qianzhan thought for a moment and said, “I’m serious. I just set a goal of earning a hundred million. Once I have enough money, I’ll only do what I want to do for the rest of my life. I don’t care if I have someone to accompany me in the latter half of my life; I’m not lonely. Nor do I pursue the idea that a woman must be complete; those norms that dictate women must marry and have children cannot constrain me.”

These weren’t the first words she had said. But before, she had spoken them subtly and sweetly, half coaxing and half persuading, trying to avoid direct conflict with her mother.

Seeing her mother’s face flush red, faintly showing a hint of anger.

Shen Qianzhan softened her tone a bit and stated: “If there’s a suitable person, I won’t resist. My work is too busy. If you tell me to stop now, I might not be able to balance both well. Temporarily abandoning work is even more impossible. Work and financial independence are the foundation of my existence; my rationality does not allow me to give up my career for something vague and elusive.”

Not being in her shoes, they simply didn’t know how much effort she had put in to climb back up.

During those most difficult days, Shen Qianzhan knew her parents were unable to bear the huge debt for her, so she always gritted her teeth and endured it herself. In these nine years, her life had been full of ups and downs, great storms and waves; it was no exaggeration to say she had exhausted her heart and soul.

She would absolutely not allow any mistakes in her career. Nor would she allow anyone to tear down her empire.

Her mother listened for a long time, trying her best to suppress her emotions, and said calmly, “Then tell me, what kind of person do you consider suitable?”

At that moment, a bizarre image flashed through Shen Qianzhan’s mind—Ji Qinghe, cool as a pine and bamboo, with hidden malice, a calculating gentlemanly scoundrel.

His words, “You can make a wish to me, it will be valid every year on this day,” echoed in her mind like a spell.

These words, like the snowflakes outside the car, silently but powerfully knocked on her heart’s door.

She couldn’t remember her expression at the time; it must have been surprise and she probably thought he was joking. She remembered smiling and asking, “Any wish at all?”

He repeated, “Any wish at all.”

At that moment, snow fell into her world, rustling softly.

Heaven knows how much self-restraint she needed then not to blurt out: “Then send me lots and lots of money, the kind that falls from the sky.”

Shen Qianzhan’s life was not a fairy tale; she knew such wishes came with a price.

So she swallowed all her words, ending the topic with a joke.

She said, “Thank you, Mr. Ji, for giving me the chance to daydream even at thirty.”

________________________________________

In the hallway, her mother’s voice was very low, as if afraid to wake her: “Did it snow all night?”

Her father grunted, his voice wavering: “Probably, with snow this thick. It rarely snows like this in the south; how many years has it been since we’ve seen people throwing snowballs?”

Shen Qianzhan felt lazy and didn’t want to get up.

After the unpleasant exchange with her mother last night, she needed to prepare herself mentally to face her parents normally.

Shen Qianzhan’s mental preparation was rather simple and blunt. She sat cross-legged on the bed, pulled out the red envelopes for New Year’s money from under her pillow, and counted them one by one.

Her father had always believed in “the deeper the love, the fatter the red envelope,” and his red envelope for her was indeed big and bulging.

She counted happily, her smile irrepressible.

Counting money right after opening her eyes on New Year’s Day—what a good omen!

________________________________________

At high noon, Shen Qianzhan estimated that Su Zan, that little traitor, should be sober by now, and personally called to greet him.

The little traitor’s voice was thick with nasal congestion, and he sounded a bit down: “When I woke up and saw that intricately carved bed, I nearly died of fright.” He sniffled and complained: “After all these years of friendship, you actually abandoned me to Mr. Ji when I was that drunk. Shen Qianzhan, has your conscience been eaten by a dog?”

Shen Qianzhan was watering her pothos, her focus slightly askew: “Intricately carved bed?”

“Yeah,” Su Zan mumbled, “How can a big man like Meng Wangzhou actually like sheer drapes? Isn’t that terrifying?”

Shen Qianzhan replied, “I think you could inquire about the cost of that bed. After you hear it, you might change your impression of Meng Wangzhou.”

Su Zan, having known her for so long, realized for the first time that her heart was completely biased: “Why are you always speaking up for others?”

“Just stating the facts,” Shen Qianzhan opened the window, taking a breath of the cold air outside: “Are you home now? Did you have a good time spending Spring Festival Eve with Mr. Ji?”

“Bah!” Su Zan said resentfully, “Only you and Mr. Ji would feel ‘ecstatic’ spending Spring Festival Eve together. He just dumped me on Mr. Meng and didn’t even care about me.”

Shen Qianzhan heard his fluent replies and clear logic, and stopped worrying: “Script meeting on the third day of the Lunar New Year, don’t forget.”

Su Zan mumbled something and hung up the phone.

________________________________________

On the afternoon of the third day of the Lunar New Year, Shen Qianzhan reserved a tea room.

She arrived the earliest and sent a location pin to the WeChat group they had created temporarily last night.

The first to arrive was Lin Qiao, who had the most enthusiasm for the script meeting and was always the first to respond to everything.

Making Shen Qianzhan wait? Impossible.

She had collaborated with Shen Qianzhan on many projects. Besides her undeniable talent and fitting Shen Qianzhan’s aesthetic, her pleasing personality was a significant contributing factor.

When Su Zan was sarcastic about her, he’d often say Lin Qiao was Shen Qianzhan’s long-lost honorary sister.

She brought a bag of small sour plums, popping them one by one, which made Shen Qianzhan’s teeth ache just watching.

Out of a woman’s sixth sense, Shen Qianzhan cautiously probed, “Do you have something going on?”

Lin Qiao paused, then quickly shook her head: “No!”

Her nervous reaction made Shen Qianzhan feel a little sick: “Do you know what ‘something’ I’m asking about? And you just said no.”

Lin Qiao, caught off guard by her, scrunched up her face and asked, “Sugar Mummy, could you be clearer? I’ll tell you everything.”

Shen Qianzhan rarely inquired about her collaborators’ private lives, knowing Lin Qiao only within the scope of her professional abilities and work.

Perhaps influenced by her mother’s hints and suggestions over the past two days to have another heart-to-heart about life, she curiously asked, “Are you twenty-seven this year?”

Lin Qiao nodded obediently, feigning a joke: “Don’t tell me the project has an age limit, or I’ll flip out.”

“The new project actually does,” Shen Qianzhan stroked her chin, serious: “I want to push the review limits and challenge a script that’s ‘restricted for minors.’”

Lin Qiao almost choked on a sour plum. Her face flushed red, looking shocked: “Are you serious?”

“No,” Shen Qianzhan sighed: “Not to mention the strict censorship for tribute dramas, even the investors wouldn’t allow it.”

Lin Qiao held her teacup to soothe her throat. Seeing no one else around, she lowered her voice and said mysteriously, “Is the one with the single-character ‘Ji’ as a nickname in the WeChat group the Sugar Daddy for this project?”

Shen Qianzhan vaguely felt something was off: “You call me ‘Sugar Mummy’ and him ‘Sugar Daddy’?”

She raised an eyebrow, teasing: “Ji Qinghe probably doesn’t know he has such a grown daughter outside.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the hanging curtain at the entrance was pushed aside by a slender finger.

Ji Qinghe’s voice was low with a slight hoarseness: “Now I do.”