Chapter_12

This was the reaction of someone who hadn’t experienced it, attributing it to mysterious cosmic rules.

Two days later, on Monday, Ding Zhitong received an offer from M Bank.

When the phone call came, she was in class. She saw the email first. In the vast classroom, while others were dozing off, a silent new email notification popped up above her laptop screen. She read it word by word twice before confirming it wasn’t her imagination. Her heart raced, her hands shook. She opened her inbox but accidentally clicked exit, then mistyped her password twice. Finally logging back in, she saw the bold “Congratulations!” at the start of the email.

Feng Sheng, still sitting next to her as always, seemed to notice her unusual behavior and turned to look.

Ding Zhitong whispered to him, “I got into M Bank.”

Feng Sheng, unsurprised, replied comfortingly, “We all have places to go now.”

Those who’ve experienced it firsthand know how challenging it is, but when spoken, it’s just an ordinary statement.

After class, Ding Zhitong called HR back, confirming the offer and the next steps. A paper offer would be mailed for her signature, followed by a pre-employment physical and third-party background check.

After hanging up, she texted Gan Yang.

He promptly replied: “Great! I told you so, I knew you could do it!”

Ding Zhitong thought to herself, this is the reaction of someone who hasn’t experienced it, attributing everything to mysterious cosmic rules.

But he followed up with another message: “Let’s have dinner tonight. Come to my place, I’ll cook for you.”

Surprised, Ding Zhitong asked: “You can cook?”

Gan Yang replied: “Of course.”

Although curious about his home and culinary skills, Ding Zhitong declined: “Can’t tonight.”

Gan Yang sent three question marks: “???”

Ding Zhitong explained: “Someone who got an offer is treating me to dinner, I need to return the favor.”

Gan Yang said: “I missed an interview for your sake, why aren’t you treating me?”

Bringing that up again? Do you want to say what’s on your mind? Did you truly want to attend that interview? And haven’t I treated you to countless cafeteria meals? Ding Zhitong didn’t know how to respond, typing and deleting several messages.

The clever one on the other end had already guessed the real reason: “Feng Sheng?”

Ding Zhitong stared awkwardly at her phone screen, unsure what to say. Her M Bank offer owed much to Feng Sheng and Song Mingmei, so she needed to treat them to dinner. Suddenly adding Gan Yang to this group would make her uncomfortable.

Gan Yang seemed hurt and went quiet for a while.

Ding Zhitong had to coax him, sending another message: “I’ll treat you separately, of course.”

He reluctantly replied: “Fine.”

Ding Zhitong didn’t coddle him further, feeling that was enough. She then shared the good news with Song Mingmei.

Song Mingmei, an insider, immediately said: “The call and offer came on the same day? Looks like you barely made it, but your luck is good! And they didn’t even ask for a site visit. Your direct supervisor is probably one of the interviewers you met, the one who wanted you.”

Ding Zhitong naturally thought of Qin Chang, immediately having a somewhat ungrateful thought – starting her career under a VP stuck at the glass ceiling might not be ideal.

But she currently had no right to be picky, and the annual package number was very satisfying – $85,000 per year. According to industry norms, bonuses were at least 50% of the salary. This meant she could expect nearly $130,000 in her first year! Although the exchange rate had been falling, it was still around 7.4, which meant…

She repeatedly checked the figures in private, mentally calculating several times, like Gollum in his cave, staring at the golden ring, muttering “My precious, my precious.”

Regarding dinner that night, Song Mingmei naturally knew about Feng Sheng and asked with a smile, “I guess I shouldn’t go, right?”

Ding Zhitong quickly said, “Of course not, you must come. I invited you first, I haven’t even told Feng Sheng yet. If you’re busy tonight, we can reschedule.”

“What’s going on between you and Feng Sheng?” Song Mingmei looked at her intently, a question she had pondered for a long time.

Ding Zhitong shook her head, very sincerely: “Nothing, really nothing.”

Song Mingmei still found it regrettable, saying, “Feng Sheng is quite good, you know. Height, features, educational background, career potential – no weaknesses. You’re both from Shanghai, so no need for Mandarin in bed. Plus, his family has an old villa on Fengyang Road.”

Ding Zhitong was used to Song Mingmei’s frank talk, but still laughed, saying, “How do you even know where he lives?”

Song Mingmei, never one to flirt with those around her, casually replied, “Basic networking skills.”

Once again, Ding Zhitong felt deeply impressed. Feng Sheng had graduated from the same university as her, and they had applied to schools and visas together. But she didn’t know much about his family situation, only that he lived frugally like her. They had flown economy class to America together, rented the cheapest dorms, couldn’t afford to go home during holidays, and rarely traveled. So, on this point alone, she doubted the accuracy of Song Mingmei’s information.

That evening, the three of them went to dinner in town.

Since it was a return treat, the budget couldn’t be lower than when Feng Sheng had treated them. But Ding Zhitong, used to eating at food trucks and Subway on campus, wasn’t familiar with local restaurants. Following Song Mingmei’s recommendation, they chose an innovative cuisine restaurant. It was a favorite of Benjamin III, with a CIA graduate chef. Mentioning Mr. Bian’s name could secure the best table even on weekend nights.

Since everything had been clarified, the three maintained a pure gold-digger friendship. At the table, they discussed internships and interview experiences. The two networking experts connected easily – Song Mingmei mentioned names Feng Sheng knew, and vice versa. Ding Zhitong often found herself just listening.

In such moments, watching Song Mingmei and Feng Sheng, she would doubt her suitability for this field. The people she had met in group interviews all shared similar qualities – shrewdness, confidence, eloquence, even similar speech patterns and questioning styles. She was merely imitating, carefully observing, thinking hard to guess how others would act and speak in certain situations, and then trying to blend in.

Though present, she felt a sense of detachment.

But Ding Zhitong clearly understood that even if only for the number in the annual package, she would continue to imitate.

Because she had to save $80,000 within a year.

The CIA-trained chef lived up to the reputation, and the meal was enjoyable. Except for one statement from Feng Sheng that surprised Ding Zhitong.

Discussing post-graduation plans, Song Mingmei asked Feng Sheng if he had decided between his two offers.

“I have,” Feng Sheng nodded but didn’t elaborate.

Song Mingmei had to probe further: “Which one are you going with?”

“After careful consideration, I’ve decided to stay in New York and become a ‘miner’ at L Bank,” Feng Sheng said, slightly lowering his head and looking at his plate. It seemed like he was answering Song Mingmei’s question, but also addressing Ding Zhitong.

Ding Zhitong’s heart sank suddenly.

Fortunately, he continued: “As a newcomer, I want more experience. New York is still the most advanced global market with top investors. The people and opportunities you can encounter here are incomparable to Hong Kong.”

“That’s true, it’s the financial center of the universe,” Song Mingmei agreed with a smile. They continued this topic, seemingly moving past the choice between the two offers.

Ding Zhitong convinced herself that she was overthinking the matter.

Staying or leaving, everyone had their considerations. Business school international students could apply for a one-year internship visa after graduation, called OPT. Some would choose to stay in the U.S. with OPT even without a job, taking any internship, even unpaid, while continuing to search for formal employment. Feng Sheng had an offer from a BB investment bank. Although not his ideal position, it would be difficult to give up. His choice surely had valid reasons, unrelated to her.

Returning to the dorm after 10 PM, Ding Zhitong received a text from Gan Yang: “Finished dinner?”

She replied with a simple “Mm,” and he didn’t respond further.

Ding Zhitong guessed he might still be upset and didn’t bother to placate him. After showering and changing, the doorbell suddenly rang. She had a premonition and ran to answer before Song Mingmei, seeing a familiar face smiling at her on the black and white monitor.

“Who is it?” Song Mingmei asked from inside.

“Someone from next door, forgot their key card,” Ding Zhitong answered, quickly turning off the display and slipping out.

She walked down as Gan Yang came up, meeting at the staircase turn. Standing two steps higher, she compensated for their height difference, looking down slightly, her eyes level with his.

Ding Zhitong asked, “What are you doing here?”

Gan Yang said, “Just wanted to see you, and…”

“And what?” The stairwell was dim, and she had removed her contact lenses, making it hard to see his expression.

Gan Yang didn’t speak, but climbed two more steps, embracing her, then lowered his head to kiss her. It was a slow-motion, deconstructed movement – nose touching nose, then finding her lips, tilting his head slightly, deepening the kiss. His lips and tongue were warm, moist, clean yet greedy. Ding Zhitong’s mind went blank for a second, even forgetting to breathe. They kissed for a long time, as if suddenly enclosed in a world apart, the surroundings so quiet they could only hear each other’s breathing. The snow outside and the winter air suddenly had warmth and flavor. Through her thin sweatshirt, she could feel the warmth of his body, the changes in his heartbeat, and every subtle movement.

When she came to her senses, Ding Zhitong found her arms wrapped around his neck, her body pressed tightly against his. She tried to step back, but Gan Yang, content with this position, kept one hand on her back, preventing her movement. He kissed her lips once more before releasing her, advising, “It’s cold in the stairwell, you should go back. Come to my place for dinner tomorrow.”

His tone suggested she was the one reluctant to part, and he was urging her not to linger.

Ding Zhitong, afraid he might feel too pleased with himself, deliberately made a disdainful expression and asked, “Is this all you came for?”

Gan Yang looked at her with a smile, nodded, and replied with a single word: “Mm.” Then he turned and went downstairs.

Ding Zhitong stood there, hands in her sweatshirt pockets, one foot swinging idly on the step, watching his retreating figure. She sensed an unspoken implication: tomorrow, we’ll continue.

Without reason or warning, her heart skipped a beat, and her face flushed. The feeling was like her first day in a junior high prep class when she experienced love at first sight with a handsome boy. It was unlike college, where she accepted someone’s pursuit because her three roommates had boyfriends, and she felt she should have one too.

In her senior year of college, as she prepared to study abroad, someone entered a management trainee program at a foreign company in Shanghai. Their long-distance relationship quickly lost substance – phone conversations lacked topics, video calls were awkward silences, and they simply focused on their own lives. Later, a small argument led to a cold war, and they broke up. She didn’t feel particularly hurt or regretful, rather relieved.

But this time, it wouldn’t be so easy to escape.

Ding Zhitong didn’t know why, at the beginning of this relationship, she was already thinking about its end.

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