Eat, Run, Love.
The meal was thoroughly enjoyable.
Afterward, they cleared the table, went out to buy groceries, and restocked the refrigerator upon returning to the apartment.
Every time Ding Zhitong did these things with Gan Yang, the phrase “living life together” popped into her mind. It was a bit old-fashioned, but she loved it. Suddenly, she felt that Gan Yang perfectly embodied “Eat, Pray, Love.” No, better to replace “pray” with “run.” Eat, run, love – 饭跑爱.
Unfortunately, she still had unfinished work. Her mind kept drifting to the materials JV hadn’t sent her. Whether walking on the street, selecting items in the supermarket, or after returning home, she checked her BlackBerry every few minutes.
The materials still hadn’t arrived, and JV’s status remained “in a meeting.” She couldn’t push him, so she could only wait. However, she did receive a response from Ms. Dai on a previously submitted brief, complete with a full page of annotations.
After this happened several times, Gan Yang noticed her distraction and said, “Go ahead and work. I can handle things here.”
“Just a moment, I’ll be quick!” Ding Zhitong promised gratefully. She hugged him from behind once more before opening her laptop and settling into a corner of the sofa to work overtime.
She explained what needed explaining and revised what needed revising. By the time she finished addressing all the annotations, it was nearly 11 PM. Gan Yang had already returned from his night run, showered, and was waiting for her in bed.
Today was Saturday, and tomorrow was Sunday. Ding Zhitong calculated that he would return to school by tomorrow evening at the latest. They had planned to celebrate, and she was determined to follow through. She resolutely closed her laptop and hurried to get ready for bed.
When she emerged from the bathroom wearing only one of his oversized T-shirts, she walked to the bed and straddled him.
Gan Yang’s breath quickened, but he feigned ignorance: “What are you doing?”
“What do you think?” Ding Zhitong challenged, her tone provocative.
Though nothing had happened yet, the atmosphere immediately changed. He sat up and embraced her.
At that moment, the BlackBerry on the nightstand vibrated twice, followed by two more vibrations half a second later. Both of their attention was drawn to it. Ding Zhitong couldn’t resist leaning over to look, but Gan Yang swept it into the drawer with one hand, slamming it shut. He cupped her face with both hands and gently bit her lip, saying, “Can you please focus?”
Ding Zhitong smiled and nodded, wrapping her arms around his back. She slowly caressed his arms and chest, her fingertips feeling the taut skin of youth, the undulating muscles, and the changes in his body beneath her touch. However, her mind kept returning to the red “new email” notification she had glimpsed, sent by JV.
The Indian colleague had finally sent her the materials, divided into several parts across multiple emails. This came after she had prompted him twice and waited for over ten hours. She couldn’t help but suspect his motives—was he deliberately trying to delay her, hoping she’d miss the deadline?
Her T-shirt was quickly removed, and the intimate sensation of skin against skin, feeling each other’s warmth and heartbeat, remained the same as before. Ding Zhitong didn’t notice anything amiss until she tried to guide him in. Only then did she have to admit that planning was one thing, but physiologically, things don’t always go as intended. She wasn’t ready. The familiar, uncomfortable friction returned, causing her to furrow her brow and involuntarily let out a soft moan. Gan Yang seemed to notice and tried to withdraw to engage in more foreplay, whispering in her ear, “What should I do? Tell me…” But she only wanted to get it over with quickly. She shook her head and kissed him passionately as if overcome with desire. Unable to resist, he changed positions, pressing his full weight onto her. She did her best to reciprocate, breathing more heavily and urgently, her hands caressing his favorite spots until he lost control, his entire body tensing as he thrust into her desperately. She hadn’t reached a climax, but she pretended she had.
After Gan Yang got up to clean himself, she retrieved the BlackBerry from the drawer. All the materials were indeed there, the timing impeccable—not quite too late, but it would mean pulling an all-nighter. After checking, she returned the BlackBerry to the drawer and went to the bathroom to freshen up.
They returned to bed together, and Gan Yang held her under the covers, asking, “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” she wasn’t sure how to respond.
He moved closer and said, “You seemed a bit off today…”
Off how? Ding Zhitong wondered. Weren’t men supposed to be oblivious to such things, or was she acting that poor?
“No, I’m fine,” she replied, hugging him back and burying her face in his chest.
He smiled then, kissing her face and shoulder before reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp.
As the room plunged into darkness, the recent scene replayed in her mind. Ding Zhitong realized she had faked an orgasm. Only twenty-three, a few months into a relationship, and already resorting to this? Her heart sank.
But pretending did serve a purpose. Despite being exhausted from several consecutive nights of little sleep, her unsatisfied desire kept her wide awake. So she lay still, waiting until she heard steady breathing behind her before quietly getting up, taking her laptop to the bathroom, and sitting on the toilet to work overtime.
The next morning, Ding Zhitong crawled—literally crawled—to the bathroom to wash up. As she brushed her teeth, she caught her reflection in the mirror and noticed how haggard she looked.
The previous night, she had made significant progress on the materials, only sleeping when she could no longer keep her eyes open. She rushed to the office early, reviewed and organized everything, then sent it to DeborAh meeting the deadline without delay.
After sending the email, she glanced back at JV, thinking defiantly, “Bring it on! Do you want to wear me down? Not gonna happen!”
But then she received a message from Gan Yang: “I’m heading back to school now. Don’t work too late, and remember to eat.”
“Okay, I will. Drive safely,” she replied, her fighting spirit suddenly deflating as she recalled her actions from the night before. She felt like a cheating scumbag, and for what? She could only console herself by thinking she’d address it after this busy period.
However, the following week showed no signs of letting up.
The bond market remained poor, with the US dollar continuing to decline while the energy sector was generally viewed favorably. According to reports from the research department, the second quarter would see the year’s peak in international oil and gas prices. Consequently, the project timeline was adjusted again, with the client hoping to complete additional financing before June—in other words, to sell stocks at the best possible price.
Everyone on the project team became even busier. Since Ding Zhitong’s first solo task completion, Deborah had assigned her new work. She still couldn’t touch the models, only handling data and descriptive materials. JV continued to play the role of superior, nitpicking her work.
For instance: “The color theme of the document is wrong. Don’t you know their main competitor’s signature color is indigo?”
Or: “The client company’s logo has specific clarity requirements. You can’t just resize it arbitrarily. Please adjust them all to the same size and contact their PR department to confirm if it meets the standards.”
As for her writing, he would highlight all the places he deemed grammatically incorrect or inaccurately expressed, adding politely worded but somewhat cutting comments. In the email body, he stated that because the sections drafted by Ding Zhitong couldn’t be included in the final version, he had worked overtime to redo everything.
Ding Zhitong knew that as a non-native English speaker without American high school or college writing training, she was indeed at a disadvantage in this area. But she had worked hard to improve, especially over the past two years, never slacking in her efforts to meet her goal of saving $70,000 annually. Writing assignments and papers in school, as well as last summer’s internship, provided considerable practical experience. Her writing, while not particularly eloquent, was praised by many for its thorough case studies, data, background information, and clear logic. But encountering JV had shattered her confidence, leaving her feeling incompetent in every aspect.
After countless revisions, her materials were discussed in a meeting with XP Energy, resulting in feedback requesting additional comparative data for related transactions.
When Deborah called that day, Ding Zhitong was about to leave work. She ran back to the office after already reaching the elevator, immediately searching through the project group’s email exchanges and shared drive, only to discover that this data set had never been mentioned before and would have to be created from scratch.
“When do you need it?” Ding Zhitong asked.
Deborah replied, “There’s another meeting tomorrow morning.”
It was already past 10 PM. Ding Zhitong wanted to say that the outsourcing team’s service standard was 24 hours, and with the additional time needed for organizing and reviewing, it simply wouldn’t be possible. But she said nothing in the end. Deborah must know such basic information. If all tasks were this simple, they wouldn’t need to pay $85,000 a year to hire graduates from top schools.
“Understood,” she accepted the request.
After hanging up, she contacted the outsourcing team. They informed her that the earliest they could deliver results would be a day later, non-negotiable. The terminal was only available in the office, meaning she would likely have to pull another all-nighter.
JV had been nearby the whole time, overhearing everything, but did not comment.
Ding Zhitong didn’t bother asking him, knowing it would be pointless. At that moment, she felt overwhelmed, pounding the keyboard furiously before resigning herself to the task. She scoured Bloomberg, FactSet, and Thomson Reuters, verifying, calculating, and organizing until it was past 5 AM when she finally finished. Looking at the faintly brightening sky outside, she decided against returning to her apartment. With an early meeting and potential feedback, she knew that if she lay down now, she wouldn’t wake up before the afternoon.
So she continued working, sending several emails. Seeing the 4 AM, and 5 AM timestamps, she realized she was starting to emulate JV. She felt a mix of sadness and defiance, thinking, “Bring it on! I’m not afraid!”
By 6 AM, she was exhausted. She went to the gym and ran for 40 minutes, then showered, feeling rejuvenated.
Around 7 AM, she went to the bathroom and fell asleep on the toilet. After dozing for about ten minutes with her head against the partition, she woke up and started to slip. She suddenly recalled a video from her onboarding training: sleeping at your desk, on a yoga mat on the floor, or the break room couch were all demonstrated by actors, followed by warning sounds and big red X’s—not allowed. The solution was right here—on the toilet.
She washed her face and applied makeup in the mirror. Emerging from the restroom, it was still early, and the entire floor was empty except for one person walking towards her along the corridor. She had removed her contact lenses and wasn’t wearing her glasses, so she only recognized him when he got closer—it was Qin Chang.
Surprised to see him, she greeted him with a “Morning!”
Qin Chang switched to Chinese and asked, “You didn’t go home last night, did you?”
“Ah…” Ding Zhitong responded, feeling a bit embarrassed. She wasn’t sure if he had noticed her disheveled state or the red mark on her forehead from sleeping.
Qin Chang glanced at his watch and said, “It’s still early. If you’re not busy, why don’t we grab breakfast and chat for a bit?”
Ding Zhitong nodded, unsure what he wanted to discuss. She had no appetite but desperately needed a hot cup of coffee and some words of wisdom from someone more experienced.
Qin Chang smiled at her and gestured for her to follow him.