Coming out of the general manager’s office, Cheng Lele’s mood had turned from cloudy to sunny.

The client who came to discuss business today was a private enterprise that produces and sells water pumps. Not long ago, a new type of water pump component they independently developed had obtained a patent. They planned to promote this technology for a fee to their peers at the convention center, and after the promotion meeting ended, they would treat clients to a movie as a gesture of appreciation.

A while ago, Cheng Lele had signed a mutually beneficial agreement with the convention center. She promised to give the convention center’s clients a discount equal to the lowest distribution price, and privately also gave the marketing director a certain kickback. Their side was quite supportive—not long after signing the agreement, they had already referred people over.

Although people were referred over, whether she could retain them still depended on her own abilities. Star Cinema, after all, wasn’t as upscale as Ocean Cinema, so for now she could only fight a price war. Cheng Lele had expended tremendous effort, exaggerating wildly and talking until her mouth was parched before finally securing this deal. Because they were selling at the lowest distribution price, the profit margin was slim. This collaboration aimed at building word-of-mouth reputation, hoping that where there’s a first, there’s a second—by securing this private screening booking and getting the first order, there would be the next business deal.

When she came out, Chen An and Tang Xin were already gone. Cheng Lele didn’t pay it much mind and dialed Zhang Ying. One mustn’t forget those who dug the well when drinking water—for today’s deal, Zhang Ying’s initial introduction and connection had been indispensable. She owed her a meal.

Zhang Ying picked up.

Cheng Lele said many words of thanks, but Zhang Ying was obviously distracted.

Cheng Lele felt something was strange: “Zhang Ying, did something happen to you? Tell me about it. As long as I can help, I definitely will.”

Zhang Ying stammered and asked: “How are things between you and Chen An?”

Cheng Lele’s hand froze for a moment: “Why are you suddenly asking that…”

Zhang Ying’s halting, evasive tone made Cheng Lele realize the information she really wanted to convey to her.

Zhang Ying had joked before that if Chen An brought another woman to her hotel to get a room, she would tell her immediately.

Perhaps because she had talked so much while discussing the private screening booking, Cheng Lele’s throat was so dry she lost her voice. She wildly imagined many scenes—embraces, hand-holding, the fleeting light of childhood, and glimpses of their reunion.

It seemed that in this instant, they all turned into beautiful bubbles, drifting far away, shattering, never to be seen again.

After a long while, she picked up her cup and took a sip of water, then said in the measured tone of someone reporting news headlines: “Zhang Ying, you’ve misunderstood. Chen An isn’t two-timing. He and I aren’t together. He has a girlfriend.”

Zhang Ying said “Oh,” and asked: “Do you have plans tonight? Want to go drinking together?”

Cheng Lele covered her eyes and said: “Why is everyone suddenly wanting to take me drinking? I don’t drink. In a couple of days, let’s have a meal together.”

Zhang Ying didn’t insist further and hung up the phone.