“You’re already one in a million. Why are you using this excuse to tell yourself it’s impossible?”
A week later, Song Mingmei had surgery at the hospital.
She followed the doctor’s advice completely. Before entering the operating room, she had prepared for the worst but received the best outcome—the intraoperative biopsy confirmed it was benign, requiring only local excision. Upon waking, she felt it was unbelievable. Future risks would certainly exist, but she knew she could handle them.
A few days later, she was discharged. Ding Zhitong came to pick her up.
Yuqi and Yulin were temporarily sent to her parents’ home. Back at her place, it was just the two of them and the live-in housekeeper.
Song Mingmei said she wanted to take a bath. Ding Zhitong was prepared, producing a stack of plastic bowls bought from Taobao and a roll of plastic wrap from the kitchen.
Song Mingmei frowned, asking, “What’s this?”
Ding Zhitong demonstrated: “Cover your chest with the bowl, then wrap it with plastic wrap. I heard the ward nurses talking about it.”
Song Mingmei laughed, saying, “Did you buy these bowls based on your own cup size?”
“What’s wrong?” Ding Zhitong didn’t understand.
Song Mingmei said, “They’re too small.”
“Get lost!” Ding Zhitong scolded her, “I think they’re about right.”
After filling the tub, and sitting in the bathtub, Song Mingmei said through the shower curtain, “Tongtong, thank you.”
The bathroom heater was on, steam rising. Ding Zhitong sat outside on the toilet lid, joking, “Don’t get mushy with me, especially at a time like this. We’re both naked, I’m afraid I might not be able to control myself.”
“It’s true,” Song Mingmei persisted in her sentimentality, “If it weren’t for you, I don’t know what state I’d be in now.”
She meant not just this time, but also years ago when she faced Bian Jieming, timidly wanting to run away.
Ding Zhitong said, “If it were me sick today, you’d treat me better because you’re richer than me.”
“How are you still like this?” Song Mingmei laughed while washing, recalling Ding Zhitong’s famous saying that everything in the world is because of money.
Ding Zhitong laughed too, self-deprecatingly: “Isn’t this just how I am?”
“Do you know why I like you?” Song Mingmei wanted to be serious with her.
Ding Zhitong said, “Why? Is it because I’m particularly good-looking?”
Song Mingmei ignored her, just saying what she wanted to say: “When I was lucky, I never saw envy in your eyes. When I was down on my luck, I never saw schadenfreude in your eyes either. Don’t think this is simple. I’ve seen those two looks plenty of times; people’s micro-expressions can’t be hidden at all.”
Ding Zhitong pondered this, asking, “How does that sound like a simpleton?”
“You call that a simpleton?!” Song Mingmei criticized her again, “Can you even tell good words from bad?”
“Forget it,” Ding Zhitong didn’t argue, “It’s not the first time I’ve been told this anyway.”
“Who else said this about you?” Song Mingmei was curious.
“No one, no other sisters,” Ding Zhitong admitted honestly, “It was my boss.”
Qin Chang had said that he could always trust her.
“Why your boss again?” Song Mingmei’s ears were tired of hearing this. She advised kindly, “Can you please stop thinking only about work? I see CEO Gan is almost dying of anxiety.”
During her hospitalization, Ding Zhitong often came to see her, with Gan Yang accompanying each time. They also used his car when leaving the hospital, but Ding Zhitong sent him away when they reached Song’s house.
“How did we end up talking about me?” Ding Zhitong evaded.
“After talking about me, of course, we’d talk about you, right?” Song Mingmei pulled back the shower curtain to look at her, “Can’t you see what he means?”
Ding Zhitong naturally understood, answering, “I know. He wants to get married, and immediately at that.”
“And you?” Song Mingmei asked.
Ding Zhitong shrugged, saying, “It’s not like I haven’t been married before.”
Song Mingmei said, “But this time is different.”
“How is it different?” Ding Zhitong feigned ignorance.
Song Mingmei paused before speaking again, “I know marriage is an incredibly difficult test. It’s not just about love, but without love, it’s impossible to persist. You’ve tried, I’ve tried, and there are many others out there who might have to continue dragging on for economic reasons. For people like us, rather than considering ourselves unlucky, we should be grateful that we can afford to lose. But you, don’t be afraid to try again because of past experiences, and especially don’t have reservations because of my situation with Deng Baiting…”
“How could it be because of you?” Ding Zhitong interrupted to deny.
But Song Mingmei continued regardless, quoting statistics out of professional habit: “Did you know? Americans did a study showing that men with annual incomes above $300,000 have the same infidelity rate as men earning below $50,000. So it’s not that people become bad when they have money, but that some people want to find a more decent excuse than emptiness, immaturity, or poor character. So they say they do it because they’re ‘rich’.”
Ding Zhitong laughed, shaking her head, “It’s not that. I have no intention of disliking CEO Gan for being too rich.”
“Then why?” Song Mingmei asked.
Ding Zhitong thought for a moment, organizing her words: “People always compare mergers and acquisitions to marriage, but they’re completely different. M&A involves evaluation, prediction, and analysis, but marriage is just diving in headfirst. When you finally have to exit, it’s so, so difficult.”
Song Mingmei laughed, saying, “You think you two haven’t evaluated long enough?”
Ding Zhitong choked, clearing her throat before saying, “It’s been quite long. But many people would think this makes it even less likely! Ten years, everything has changed, the kids are several years old already.”
Song Mingmei laughed even more, saying, “Don’t ask me what percentage of people reunite after ten years apart. Think about it yourself: what percentage of Chinese students get into Ivy League schools? What percentage of Ivy League graduates find jobs in Wall Street BB investment banks? What percentage of those who enter investment banking reach your position after ten years? All along this path, you never stopped because the chances were slim. You’ve always been one in a million, so why are you using this excuse to tell yourself it’s impossible now?”
The series of rhetorical questions like in a perfect essay—Ding Zhitong was convinced. She quickly pulled the shower curtain closed again, bending down with her face in her hands, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time.
After a long while, Song Mingmei spoke again: “You must be happy, you know? Don’t always think about living with me after retirement. If you don’t date, I still want to date!”
“Right,” Ding Zhitong teared up, then joked teasingly, “You’re rich and beautiful, go find a young hunk.”
“No thanks, I can’t handle that,” Song Mingmei flatly refused, “I’ve always felt that the brain is the most important sexual organ in the human body. I really can’t stomach young hunks. Of course, you could say I’m attracted to power.”
Ding Zhitong suddenly pulled back the shower curtain to look at her.
“What’s wrong?” Song Mingmei asked.
Ding Zhitong said, “I suddenly thought of someone…”
“What for?” Song Mingmei didn’t understand.
“Thought about introducing you to him.”
“No, wait until I’ve recovered from my wounds.”
The shower curtain was pulled closed again, and the two continued chatting, only hearing each other’s voices.
Song Mingmei said, “I’ll say it again, you just need to ask yourself if you still like him. If you don’t, then don’t accept. We’ve both already made this mistake.”
Ding Zhitong answered, “I just don’t know. We only met in October, it hasn’t even been two months.”
“Then try living together first,” Song Mingmei suggested.
“But where’s the time?” Ding Zhitong sighed, “I have to go back to Hong Kong after the Spring Festival.”
After the bath, Song Mingmei went to rest. Ding Zhitong called Gan Yang to come pick her up.
Over the past week, with work and hospital visits, Ding Zhitong was exhausted too. As soon as she got in the car, she leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.
Gan Yang reached out and pressed a button somewhere. Ding Zhitong then realized, oh, there was an automatic rising large screen too. It slowly rose, completely separating the driver’s compartment from the space behind. Combined with the dark tinted sunscreen film on the rear windows, the cabin suddenly darkened, with soft blue ambient lights slowly illuminating the floor.
She chuckled softly.
“What are you laughing at, Ding Straight Tube?” he asked unceremoniously.
Ding Zhitong was stunned. This guy called her by her nickname again! She wasn’t going to let it slide and jokingly spoke her mind: “I was just thinking, rich people’s interests are all the same.”
“What do you mean?” Gan Yang didn’t understand.
“The glass color is quite nice, and this ambient lighting…” Ding Zhitong looked around, commenting on each aspect.
“I sometimes sleep in the car,” Gan Yang explained, suddenly realizing the ambiguity in his words. Afraid she might misunderstand, he added, “Because of insomnia.”
Unexpectedly, Ding Zhitong laughed again, remembering Song Mingmei’s mention of “CEO syndrome” and wondering to herself how many of those symptoms he had.
Gan Yang didn’t argue, directly showing her his phone: over 400 unread emails in his inbox, dozens of work-related WeChat and DingTalk groups with over 2,000 unread messages, all just from one morning.
Ding Zhitong, unfazed, showed him her phone too, with no fewer messages than his.
Neither had the upper hand, but comparing this was boring!
Gan Yang laughed helplessly, saying, “I don’t know how others manage their time, but I don’t have that energy.”
“Oh, then forget it. I was just thinking…” Ding Zhitong teased him.
“Thinking what?” Gan Yang leaned in.
“Nothing, I’ll take a nap. Wake me when we arrive.” She pushed him away.
“Talk to me properly!” Gan Yang held onto her shoulders.
Ding Zhitong finally smiled, looking at him in this dim, small space, and asked, “I haven’t told you about Feng Sheng, have I?”
Gan Yang frowned, shaking his head.
Ding Zhitong said, “Let’s talk.”