Ye Meng had a hurried meeting with Liang Yun’an. The leads in Wang Xingsheng’s case had dried up, with no progress. The city bureau was in a state of disarray, with their bureau chief bearing tremendous pressure from all sides. Due to constant public opinion pressure, the higher-ups had repeatedly issued deadlines for solving the case. Their bonuses this year might even be deducted, yet the case remained tangled like a mess of hemp, with no clues. Even the previous leads had gone cold.
Their bureau chief still shouldered the pressure, declaring that the case shouldn’t be hastily closed if there were any doubts.
“By the way,” Liang Yun’an said, “let’s talk about your mother’s case. I still feel there might be some connection between these two cases. Your mother’s car was found at the bottom of the cliff at Jiumen Ridge, right?”
Ye Meng nodded, “Yes. My mother married into Ningsu, and she would occasionally go to Beijing’s antique market to authenticate antiques for people.”
“Was she authenticating antiques that time too?”
“Yes, I happened to be studying in Beijing, and my mother came to see me on her way. She seemed very off when she arrived, but she had depression, so I didn’t think much of it at the time. She would have episodes every few days, so I just made sure she took her medication and told her to go back to the hotel to rest.”
“And then?”
“Then the police found me and said my mother had committed suicide.”
“Did your mother visit the antique market during those days?”
“Yes, what about it?”
“Which antique market?”
“Zhennan Antique Market. I’m not very clear, my mother only mentioned it briefly.”
“Are you sure you remember correctly?”
“Yes.”
Liang Yun’an pondered for a moment, then asked: “Wang Xingsheng was a regular at Zhennan Antique Market. Could it be that he was the one who sought your mother for authentication n that time?”
Ye Meng shook her head. She hadn’t heard her mother mention it. There was no way to know.
That day, the aunt brashly showed up at the door again. Without showing any courtesy, she loudly questioned Li Jinyu: “Where is that wife of yours!”
Li Jinyu had just opened the door and was immediately accosted. He impatiently replied: “What is it?”
The aunt was furious and unceremoniously dumped accusations: “Our Gaoyi has returned from Beijing, but he’s been traumatized by something and has locked himself in his room for a day and night, refusing to open the door! What did that woman of yours do to our Gaoyi!”
After speaking, the aunt threw a tantrum right there, stubbornly plopping herself down on the ground, refusing to leave or allow Li Jinyu to close the door.
Li Jinyu called Yang Gaoyi to come take his mother home. Yang Gaoyi was quite obedient and came running as soon as he hung up. Seeing the chaotic scene before him, he was exasperated: “Mom, what are you going crazy about now!”
The aunt paid no attention, bracing her legs against Li Jinyu’s doorframe, stubbornly saying: “Your mother is driven to this because of you! I thought you were being bullied in Beijing! I’m just trying to get an explanation from your brother!”
In the densely populated apartment building, if any household raised their voice, people would immediately peek out their windows to watch. Not to mention this uproar—a thick layer of people had already gathered around Li Jinyu’s door to watch the spectacle. Li Jinyu remained cold and detached. But Yang Gaoyi, being four or five years younger than Li Jinyu, was at an age where he cared about appearances. Feeling embarrassed, he tried to drag her away, but the aunt was like a stubborn bull, immovable despite his efforts.
Yang Gaoyi grew furious and gave up restraint. He pushed her to the ground and exploded in rage, directing all his anger back at her: “Nobody bullied me! I’m like this today all because of you!”
The aunt was stunned, never imagining that her usually obedient son would lay hands on her!
She suddenly felt as if her world had collapsed. She became hysterical, tearing off her braids, frantically rubbing them, screaming madly, her eyes blazing like arrowheads, looking as if she wanted to devour Ye Meng alive: “What kind of love potion did that woman give you! Yang Gaoyi, you’re hitting your mother!”
Yang Gaoyi, looking at his mother who resembled a madwoman, shouted without restraint: “Yes! I’ve been bewitched by her!”
…
Yang Gaoyi had indeed suffered in Beijing. The boss judges at the program’s set were no pushovers—their words were sharp and deadly accurate. Yang Gaoyi hadn’t experienced much of the world, spoke with self-satisfaction and exaggeration, and his gaze lacked firmness. He wasn’t even clear about his life plans, at one moment saying he wanted to pursue an administrative position, then saying he was interested in public relations. He was like a reed swaying in the wind, seemingly flattering each of the judges.
A typical case of telling people what they want to hear.
One of the boss judges reminded him: “This approach might work well in your small town, but Beijing is a place that values ability and aspirations. We haven’t seen your abilities yet, but what about your aspirations? Do you have any?”
Yang Gaoyi hadn’t realized the gravity at that moment and instinctively said: “Yes, being a scientist or doctor has always been my dream since childhood.”
Swoosh—twenty lights went out instantly without mercy.
Even after leaving the venue, Yang Gaoyi still didn’t understand what had happened.
Ye Meng stood by the monitoring screen outside the venue and watched the entire broadcast. Seeing Yang Gaoyi emerge looking dejected and distracted, she took him out for a meal.
It was just the two of them in the private room, with the waiter standing respectfully at the door, refilling tea and water.
Yang Gaoyi suddenly felt that this woman was very wealthy and beautiful, with fair, flawless skin through which faint blue veins could be seen pulsing beneath. He thought she resembled a water lily—quiet and proud when silent, yet casual and full of charm when conversing. At first, he felt she was perhaps just a flower that could open and close at will. What attracted people most was that earthy quality about her.
Until she sat in the private room, poured him a glass of water, and asked softly: “Do you know why none of them wanted you?”
Yang Gaoyi: “You know?”
“Bosses don’t like to hear lies,” Ye Meng gently passed the water to him, poured herself a glass, and said, “Of course, they don’t particularly like hearing the truth either. But some people prefer the truth, others prefer lies. Unfortunately, you just told the truth to someone who preferred lies and told lies to someone who preferred the truth. When you please neither side, no one will keep a light on for you.”
Yang Gaoyi felt as if a new world had opened before him. He thought Ye Meng was quite special; few women would speak so directly. “You seem to know them well?”
Ye Meng smiled, “My boss participated in this program before and had contact with them. I wouldn’t say I know them well.”
Yang Gaoyi: “Was my performance today bad?”
Ye Meng was silent for a long time before speaking.
“Simply put, this was just an interview. It won’t affect you much.”
Of course, if it were to be broadcast, that would be completely different. Yang Gaoyi’s performance could be cut into short video clips and posted on Weibo for the year’s most awkward job seeker. Ye Meng originally wanted to make the aunt see her son’s true nature, but she realized that Yang Gaoyi was just spoiled. Having never experienced much adversity, he seemed naive.
Yang Gaoyi fidgeted anxiously and asked: “Will it be broadcast?”
“The director’s sister, considering your young age, will cut out some of the dialogue. It won’t have any negative impact on you.” This was Ye Meng’s suggestion.
Yang Gaoyi secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
“If you haven’t mastered the art of flattery, don’t try it carelessly. Otherwise, you’re likely to hit the horse’s hoof instead of its back.”
“Every step a person takes must be firmly grounded. Right now, you’re like a child—you want to pick an apple here, then see a banana there that looks good. If you continue like this, you’ll soon get lost in the orchard and won’t find your way out. Beijing is a place with too many temptations, and bosses fear this type of person the most. They prefer those who have firm goals and always know what they want, even if it’s just a small goal.”
These were the last two things Ye Meng said to him that day, and Yang Gaoyi found them very reasonable.
…
By now, more and more onlookers had gathered, with people stopping to watch from afar.
Yang Gaoyi understood his mother to some extent—the more people tried to persuade her, the more stubborn she became. If ignored, she would feel awkward and stop. So he finally shouted: “Yes, I’ve been bewitched by her! If you want to make a scene, go ahead! Let the whole town know! Your son has been bewitched by his brother’s wife! Are you satisfied now!”
This indeed worked. The aunt couldn’t save face anymore. After glancing at Li Jinyu, who had ignored her the entire time, she scrambled to her feet.
As she left, the aunt spat at the onlookers while cursing: “What are you looking at? Don’t you have children at home?!”
That evening, there was a company dinner. It was rare for all three heads to be present, and colleagues were in high spirits. After several rounds of drinks, many at the table were down, and Gou Kai had vomited again. The scene was a mess, with empty bottles scattered everywhere and chopsticks stuck in rice like incense sticks.
Only Tai Mingxiao remained, cracking sunflower seeds and chatting with the young women from the company about industry gossip—the young women had learned to be shrewd and wouldn’t be fooled by him.
The gossip turned to Oliver, the British gentleman whom Tai Mingxiao and Gou Kai had encountered in France during the “Long Zhong Ding” auction. This British gentleman was a top elite who had been featured in “Time Magazine.” The young woman had fantasies about him and promptly refuted: “Oliver is a gentleman! How could he be as you described?”
“You’re spreading rumors, Manager Tai. Be careful, he might sue you for defamation,” someone threatened.
“You’re so naive. Your boss and I personally saw two French women queuing to enter his room. Note, queuing.”
“You don’t know what they were doing in the room.”
“Fine, women just worship foreigners. Foreign men are good, and we Chinese men are a notch below them.” Tai Mingxiao made one last struggle. “I’m not deceiving you. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Director Ye. She met this Oliver at an auction in Guangdong before.”
Ye Meng hadn’t drunk much and was leaning to the side with a clear mind, listening to them gossip, occasionally smoking, occasionally joining in with banter, showing good balance. She hadn’t spoken for a while, and seeing Tai Mingxiao draw her into the fire, she finally smiled and interjected: “You tell your gossip. Why drag me into it?”
Tai Mingxiao: “Can’t I even say this? Don’t be so mysterious. Look at their curious eyes on you.”
At Wanxing Company, the CEO and Vice CEO weren’t so mysterious anymore. The most mysterious was the Director of Public Relations and Clients, Director Ye. Ye Meng didn’t like to talk about herself; when chatting with people, her topics always revolved around others. Anything was fine, but topics about herself would always be brushed off in a few words. If nothing else, she was most adept at banter.
She had no sense of belonging in Beijing, so she didn’t live as freely as in Ningsu. In Beijing, she felt like Li Jinyu in Ningsu. Her heart also kept a tightly closed door. This was why she could see him at first glance in that small town; she felt they were of the same kind. Just that one was in the north, and one was in the south.
So she didn’t believe that Li Jinyu, having left Beijing where he grew up, could have a sense of belonging in that mismatched small town.
Ye Meng smiled, “What do you want to ask?”
She had expected these young women to ask about Oliver, but to her surprise, they eagerly fired a series of questions—
“What does Director Ye’s boyfriend do?”
“How many boyfriends has Director Ye had?” and so on.
Ye Meng was startled: “Haven’t I told you before?”
Everyone had question marks on their foreheads: “What?”
“I’m married. My husband is two years younger than me, living in my hometown, preparing for the civil service exam.”
Everyone was confused, and Ye Meng was even more confused. She hadn’t hidden it, so why did all these young women act as if they’d just met her? Tai Mingxiao took the opportunity to regain some impression points: “So you see, you say I can’t keep my mouth shut, but I didn’t reveal a word about Director Ye’s marriage. I kept it well, didn’t I?”
“…”
Everyone, including Ye Meng, responded in unison: “What’s there to hide about this!!”
Tai Mingxiao: “…”
The atmosphere fell silent.
Young Jiang, a newcomer, weakly defended Tai Mingxiao: “Maybe everyone felt that Director Ye isn’t the type to marry so early, so perhaps we subconsciously didn’t pay attention.”
Tai Mingxiao felt deeply moved: “Ah, Young Jiang makes a good point.”
Everyone had quite a consistent opinion on this, nodding frequently.
“I thought Director Ye would at least hold out until thirty-five. After all, excellent women are often keen on staying single.”
“From what Manager Tai said, many men were pursuing Director Ye. I always thought the reason Director Ye remained single these years was because she was picky. May I ask boldly, how did that younger brother from your hometown force you to marry him?”
No one could have imagined that Ye Meng would say something that shocked everyone to the point where they couldn’t pick up the pieces: “I forced him.”
They found it hard to imagine that this cool and composed Director Ye, who seemed mature and rational, always maintaining a good sense of proportion in everything she did, would use the tactic of forcing marriage to keep a man.
“Is he the son of a tycoon in your Ningsu?”
“No, he lives with his grandmother.”
Indeed, how could the son of a tycoon be preparing for the civil service exam? No matter how you looked at it, he seemed like a very ordinary man.
At that moment, her phone suddenly vibrated in the quiet private room.
From that younger brother from her hometown.
Two messages.
It was his ID photo. Li Jinyu had taken it casually, with his lazily sprawled legs in the frame and half of Ping’an’s body in the background.
The ID portrait was the original version of Yang Gaoyi’s retouched photo. Clear features, and standards so impeccable they were beyond reproach, except that his gaze was cold and suppressed, not as lively as he appeared in person.
The next message read.
[LJY: I miss you a bit. Help me buy a ticket.]
[Meng: Only a bit?]
[LJY: My hands are aching from missing you so much. Is that enough?]