Zhu Yun had lived in the city for years and never once known that there were hot springs in the suburbs.

When Dong Siyang finished his instructions to the lobby manager, the manager came over with several keycards. Dong Siyang turned to the group and asked, “Who wants to room with whom?”

Zhu Yun: “We’re staying overnight?”

Dong Siyang: “Obviously.”

Zhu Yun: “You didn’t mention staying overnight from the start. I didn’t bring anything.”

Dong Siyang looked impatient. “Women are always such trouble. It’s just one night — what is there to bring?” He then grinned. “Oh — worried about not having your makeup? Don’t panic. Just try not to get your face wet tonight, and we won’t have to see your bare skin.”

“……”

Zhang Fang grabbed a keycard from Dong Siyang’s hand and threw his arm around Zhao Teng.

“I’m sticking with you!”

Zhao Teng pushed him off with distaste. Dong Siyang asked Guo Shijie, “Who do you want to room with?”

“Wait a moment.” Zhu Yun interrupted, and it dawned on her belatedly — she pointed at the two remaining keycards in Dong Siyang’s hand. “……You only booked three rooms?”

Dong Siyang: “Six people, three rooms. Any problem?”

Zhu Yun: “I’m a woman! Don’t you think you should give me my own room?”

Dong Siyang: “Budget doesn’t allow it.”

Zhu Yun: “Isn’t this place your old friend’s?”

Dong Siyang gave a snort of laughter. “You said it yourself — old friend. Goodwill isn’t something you cash in on so easily.” He nudged Zhu Yun impatiently. “Stop stalling. I’m giving you first pick, so don’t say I don’t look out for my female employees. Which of the three do you want to room with?”

Zhu Yun: “……”

Zhao Teng glanced sideways at Li Xun, and without warning pulled Guo Shijie to his side, saying, “You’d best stay out of this — women are forces of nature. You don’t want your innocence contaminated.”

Zhu Yun: “Who’s contaminating whom?”

Zhao Teng ignored him, keeping his arm around Guo Shijie as he said, “Anyway, you’re picking between those two.”

Guo Shijie said in a small voice, “Won’t those two be contaminated?”

Zhu Yun: “Who is contaminating who, exactly?!”

Zhao Teng grinned. “Those two are already too far gone to be contaminated.”

Dong Siyang’s lips curved up. He said to Zhu Yun, “Don’t overthink it — you are absolutely not my type.”

Zhu Yun shot back immediately, “You’re not my type either.”

“Perfect.” Dong Siyang flicked one of the keycards straight at Li Xun, who had been in the same groggy, just-woken-up state since the very start — face dark, not a word coming out of him. He caught the keycard, glanced at it, and headed for the elevator.

Dong Siyang said to the others, “Go back to your rooms and rest, then come to the second floor for dinner — private room ‘Mingxiang.'”

Zhu Yun felt the matter was still unresolved, but Zhao Teng gave her one firm shove straight through the elevator doors just as they were sliding shut. Dong Siyang grabbed Guo Shijie by the back of the collar and hauled him over. “You’re with me.”

Zhang Fang squeezed in and asked, “Director Dong, what’s your type?”

Dong Siyang’s smile was slow and predatory, like a wolf sliding his tongue across his teeth.

“At least ten times more alluring than her, for starters.”

Zhu Yun felt herself being dragged into a conversation she hadn’t asked to be part of.

Ding. The elevator stopped at the fourth floor.

This was nothing like a typical hotel. The rooms all had wooden doors, carved with patterns of birds, flowers, dragons and phoenixes, carrying deep, rich fragrance. The ceiling was extraordinarily high — every four or five meters hung a red lantern, its hue muted and dark, casting the surroundings in a more mysterious and secretive light.

Zhu Yun followed behind Li Xun, heart thudding. She was debating whether to go back down to the lobby and book a room for herself, but the moment for that had passed, and going back now would feel strange.

……And would sharing a room be strange?

Before she had figured out the answer, Li Xun had already opened the door.

This place looked unassuming from the outside — probably all the money had gone into the interior. The room wasn’t a suite, but the space was generous enough — two single beds, a large gongbi-style painting of lotus flowers on the wall behind them, and two latticed wooden screens off to the side.

Li Xun went directly to the bathroom. The room was dark. Zhu Yun went to draw the curtains and was surprised to find that the windows facing outside were sealed shut — only a narrow row of small horizontal panes near the top allowed any view of the outside at all.

Zhu Yun went back to the door and turned on the lights. She flipped the switch, and the room’s lighting turned out to be the same as what she’d seen outside — a row of dim red lanterns hanging above the lotus painting.

Zhu Yun broke out in a cold sweat inside. This room was not a place where one could expect to accomplish anything wholesome.

Li Xun washed his face and came out, then scooped up his bag from the floor — a black backpack. From the sharp outline of the corners, it was clearly a laptop inside.

Sure enough, the next second Li Xun pulled out the laptop. The moment it came out, the bag went completely flat. He set the laptop on the desk, didn’t open it, and first took out a cigarette.

Zhu Yun wasn’t sure what to say either, and went into the bathroom herself to avoid the awkward silence, taking her time tidying herself up before coming back out. As she stepped out, she noticed Li Xun’s bag on the floor and picked it up out of habit.

The moment she lifted the bag, something fell out of it. Accurately speaking, it was more like a flat something. It landed face-down. When Zhu Yun flipped it over and saw what it was, she felt as though she had been struck by lightning.

It was a photograph she recognized more intimately than anything else in the world: a golden-haired young man holding forth at a podium, arrogance radiating from every pore.

Zhu Yun had long since forgotten this photograph existed — utterly and completely. She had sealed it in the deepest recess of her wallet years ago, and even when the wallet itself had been taken by a pickpocket, she hadn’t thought of it.

The photograph had visible stains and fold marks. He must have had it laminated to keep it from deteriorating.

Why hadn’t he told her he’d found the photograph?

No — the real question was why he had laminated it.

Or rather, why was he carrying it around with him?

There were too many questions, and none of them could find a way out.

I should have stayed in the bathroom and not come out at all. Zhu Yun thought. Could anything be more mortifying than this?

She turned around. Li Xun was leaning against the edge of the desk, smoking.

He was different from her in this — he never felt embarrassed about anything.

For a moment she felt as though the two of them were locked in an extraordinarily childish game — tedious beyond all measure, and yet they were playing it with absolute seriousness.

Zhu Yun asked the question while already knowing the answer: “How did this photograph end up with you?”

Li Xun said quietly, “My things are with me. Is that a problem?”

Zhu Yun: “How is it your thing?”

Li Xun: “Is it yours?”

Yes, it is.

Zhu Yun looked into his eyes and couldn’t find a reply.

Li Xun finished the cigarette quickly, pressing it out in the ashtray. “Come on, it’s time for dinner.”

Dong Siyang had left the ordering to Zhang Fang. By the time Zhu Yun and Li Xun arrived at the private dining room, Zhang Fang was still deliberating over the last few dishes. He looked up and asked them, “Is there anything you two want?”

Li Xun shook his head. Zhu Yun said, “Did you order any sweets? I want something sweet.”

Zhang Fang said with disdain, “You’re not afraid of putting on weight?”

Zhu Yun: “You were the one who asked what I wanted.” She leaned over to look at the menu. “Honeycomb cake with cream — I want that one.”

Zhang Fang: “How old are you still eating cream?”

Li Xun took a seat. Dong Siyang glanced at him sidelong. Li Xun paid no attention.

The dishes came out quickly. After a brief and perfunctory opening speech by Dong Siyang, everyone dove in. Dong Siyang had ordered quite a lot of alcohol. Zhu Yun said her tolerance was poor, to which Dong Siyang replied mockingly, “A woman trying to make it in the corporate world who can’t hold her drink — that’s like a mute trying to be a singer. What’s the point?”

No matter how hard Zhu Yun pushed back against his outstretched glass, it was no use against Dong Siyang — she was soon persuaded into several rounds.

Zhao Teng sat watching from the side and shook his head, then leaned toward Li Xun. “Back in the day Director Dong used to enjoy needling Zhang Fang at the dinner table. Now he’s got a new favorite. Aren’t you going to go rescue her?”

Li Xun said nothing. In truth, what Dong Siyang was pouring for Zhu Yun was light beer — many cups, very low in alcohol. The only real effects after a bottle were that Zhu Yun cursed with more energy than ever, and that alcohol had coaxed a flush to her cheeks, her eyes catching the light with an involuntary, unselfconscious charm.

Dong Siyang was in full control, and besides, he was the type who grew steadier the more he drank. He poured a glass for Zhu Yun and another for himself, then said, “Come on — one for you, one for me. How about it?”

Zhu Yun rolled her eyes at him.

“Ooh, the eyes are working now, are they?” Dong Siyang held his cigarette between two fingers and pointed to his own glass, deliberately goading her. “My drink is nearly thirty times stronger than yours. You can’t handle this?”

Zhu Yun lifted her glass and drank it in one go.

Dong Siyang led the applause, and the rest followed in scattered cheering.

Small companies have their own advantages — warmth and freedom. Of course they have their hardships too, in development and planning — but when the difficulties ease, the warmth and freedom expand without limit.

After several rounds, Dong Siyang’s mood was high, and looking around the room at all his staff, his expression turned reflective. Zhang Fang leaned over and offered him a toast. Dong Siyang drained it in one, then said, “Three years now.”

Zhang Fang also said, moved, “That’s right.”

Zhu Yun asked, “Is this your first time starting a business?”

Dong Siyang made a sound of scorn. Zhang Fang said, “Are you kidding? Our Director Dong was a force to be reckoned with back in his day — you hadn’t even graduated yet!”

Dong Siyang: “Bullshit — a force to be reckoned with.” He poured himself another glass and drained it. Then he turned to Zhu Yun and said, “I didn’t have a good start in life — half-orphaned, practically a beggar. A master craftsman from a machinery factory took me in and raised me. My master was the man who built the first wheeled tractor in China — now that was someone who was genuinely a force to be reckoned with. But times change too fast. Factories were shutting down one after another, and the old ways of doing business — brute force and raw grit — weren’t going to cut it anymore.”

Zhu Yun: “How did you end up choosing the internet industry?”

“I didn’t exactly choose it — to be honest, you’d probably laugh.” Dong Siyang looked at Zhu Yun, lips curving. “I got out two years ago. All my old buddies from the factory had changed careers. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I was just wandering the streets. One day it was blazing hot — I was walking along, dripping sweat, and happened to pass by an IT company. The automatic doors on the ground floor slid open, and cold air blew over from ten meters away. That coolness hit me and — I can’t explain it. I remember standing there thinking: how can the gap be this big between people in the exact same street?”

Dong Siyang gave a cold laugh. “I wanted to stand in the doorway and catch some cool air, but the security guard chased me off. You want to know why I got into internet business? I’ll tell you — I wanted to sit in air conditioning.”

After a while, Dong Siyang turned his attention to tormenting Zhang Fang and Zhao Teng. Zhu Yun drifted over to sit beside Li Xun, her whole person carrying the warmth of alcohol.

She said, “How come you’re not drinking?” She was a little tipsy and misjudged the distance — she thought she was speaking at a normal volume and keeping her usual distance, but in reality she was very, very close. Those eyes of hers, washed bright by the drink, gleamed like light off a blade after autumn rain.

Li Xun held her gaze for a beat, then pushed past her and walked out. Zhu Yun’s reaction was a step behind — by the time she came back to herself, he was already gone.

The private room was a suite, with various entertainment setups partitioned by screens. Zhang Fang had drunk too much and was belting into a microphone. Zhu Yun sank into the sofa and dozed off, and when she came to, Dong Siyang and the other three were playing mahjong.

Zhu Yun scratched at her hair and asked, “Where’s Li Xun?”

Zhao Teng said, “He was going back to the room to keep working. Fang and I kicked him out and made him go soak in the hot springs.” He looked back at Zhu Yun. “You should go too.”

Zhu Yun: “It’s so late……”

Zhao Teng said, smiling, “Late is good — fewer people late at night.”

Dong Siyang, cigarette dangling from his lips, sorting his tiles, said without looking up: “Go to the front desk and tell them you want the hot springs. They’ll take you. The swimsuit you just pick out there.”

Zhu Yun’s head was still slow. She wandered over to the door in a half-daze and told the staff member standing there:

“I’d like to use the hot springs.”

“Right this way, miss.”

The attendant led her through corridors and passages and brought her to a changing room. “Do you have a swimsuit with you?”

Zhu Yun shook her head. The attendant took her to make a selection.

“Please feel free to browse. The cost will be added to your keycard.”

The swimsuits came in every style imaginable. Zhu Yun stared, overwhelmed. Still slightly foggy from the alcohol, and with the suits all blurring together in front of her, she had no idea where to begin. The attendant helpfully suggested, “Do you like the bikini style? You have a lovely figure — it would look very striking on you.”

Zhu Yun nodded, going along with whatever she was told.

The attendant brought that bikini over, and Zhu Yun stared down at it for a long moment, then said in a small voice, “……I don’t want this one.”

The attendant looked puzzled. Zhu Yun pointed to one hanging across the rack.

“That one. The one with the skirt.”