Chen Yi found another new job.

Near Miao Jing’s company was a small but well-known coffee art gallery. Chen Yi worked there as a barista roasting coffee beans, simply because she had mentioned one morning: “The coffee at cafes tastes better.”

When going out for lunch with colleagues, they would stop by for coffee and see Chen Yi in his white shirt and black apron, crouching by the roasting machine, emanating an enchanting coffee aroma. He would lift his baseball cap and whistle at her, looking clean-cut yet slightly roguish.

Si Nan was one of only two Chinese women at the company, working as a Spanish translator and accountant. She went everywhere with Miao Jing and was a very cheerful person. She would often remark, “Your boyfriend is handsome.”

“Chen Yi treats you so well.”

Although Miao Jing had moved in with Chen Yi, they weren’t far from the company apartments. She still socialized frequently with colleagues, joining dinners and activities to expand their social circle, so everyone was quite familiar with Chen Yi and could chat with him casually.

The company had male colleagues dispatched from China, including business sales representatives and after-sales engineers. Along with friends they knew in their social circle, they had gotten to know quite a few people. However, most people came and went alone – couples like Miao Jing and Chen Yi who came to work abroad together were rare.

The two made an attractive couple and were deeply in love. Si Nan was good friends with Miao Jing and often visited their home. When chatting about their relationship history, Miao Jing would say, “We’ve known each other for many years, lived in the same neighborhood as children, even went to the same middle school…”

She kept the details vague, but it sounded like they were childhood sweethearts and schoolmates.

Si Nan had been abroad for three years, counting down the days until her holiday back home each year. She liked discussing various things about China with Miao Jing. However, Miao Jing didn’t seem to miss China much. While others saved their vacation days to return home, she and Chen Yi would travel elsewhere, seemingly with no plans to visit family.

Miao Jing was a typically good student you’d find in China – a prestigious university with, an excellent career, adapting well to her overseas assignment with outstanding work attitude and capabilities. She had clear principles in how she conducted herself. But Chen Yi was different. From his self-introduction, he hadn’t attended university, nor was he a business person who worked his way up or a skilled tradesperson.

In other words, he stayed at home without work. His clothes and appearance didn’t suggest he came from a wealthy family. People speculated privately during their conversations. At every gathering and activity, Miao Jing was always the one paying with her card, including their rent and living expenses. Everyone dressed modestly with the reserved demeanor typical of Chinese people, but Chen Yi dressed with a hint of rebelliousness, sometimes in shabby clothes, appearing quite casual and carefree, not looking particularly proper or ambitious.

But in front of Miao Jing’s friends and colleagues, he carried himself with confidence, never minding his status as someone “dependent on a woman.”

This kind of relationship was uncommon.

Miao Jing was beautiful enough that many wanted to pursue her. People would ask Si Nan about Miao Jing’s situation. Being in a foreign country, it was normal to look out for each other. But Miao Jing always had someone by her side. Though Bogotá wasn’t that dangerous, her boyfriend was always there like a bodyguard, leaving no chance for inappropriate advances. The Spanish men at the office were handsome and from good families, openly and subtly showing enthusiasm toward her, inviting her countless times, but she remained coolly indifferent.

However, Si Nan once encountered Miao Jing in the bathroom using powder to cover up deep marks on her neck that seemed to declare possession.

During the Mid-Autumn Festival, everyone gathered together for a party at the home of a friend’s friend who was in the jewelry business and had a spacious, luxurious kitchen perfect for Chinese cooking. Miao Jing brought Chen Yi along.

The men were barbecuing outside, discussing work development and market prospects in South America. The expatriate salaries were all quite high, and everyone’s goal was to earn their first bucket of gold. At that time, Chen Yi had found work as a security guard in a wealthy district, earning about enough for one nice dinner out per month. He couldn’t join the men’s conversations, but he listened very attentively with a peaceful expression.

Miao Jing brought over a plate of washed fruit and secretly popped a grape into Chen Yi’s mouth. He sat casually in his chair, his hand pressing gently on her lower back, fingers giving a light squeeze – a simple action, yet carrying a casual air of doing as he pleased, seeming completely natural.

During dinner, though they were each eating their food, they constantly showed thoughtful care for each other in subtle ways. Miao Jing would smoothly help him in conversation, while Chen Yi would quietly empty her wine glass.

After dinner, everyone went to the garden to digest and look at the moon. Si Nan went out to serve mooncakes, and turning around, she saw in a corner Miao Jing leaning against the railing, holding her phone and having a conversation. Chen Yi had his arm around her, his long fingers carelessly brushing aside her long hair, naturally lowering his head, his nose tip slowly trailing from her ear to her neck, pausing, then closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Just this subtle action, hidden from others, revealed in the clear moonlight, carried an indescribable allure.

Sensing the spying gaze, Chen Yi raised an eyebrow, glancing over, then curved his lips in a smile, showing a hint of wanting to conceal something.

Si Nan caught his bright gaze and somehow felt her cheeks burning.

After living in Bogotá for a year, Miao Jing’s Spanish was good enough for daily life. Colombia was quite suitable for learning Spanish, with clear and slow speech that beginners could follow easily. But Chen Yi’s Spanish was already fluent enough to compete with native speakers, though his English hadn’t improved much, with a vocabulary of barely a hundred words. He had also learned some French phrases from Pierre, speaking them better than English.

After overcoming the language barrier, finding work in Bogotá wasn’t difficult. Si Nan warmly recommended a position – a Chinese building materials company expanding into the South American market had set up an office in Bogotá and urgently needed a Spanish-speaking sales representative. The other requirements weren’t high, and Chen Yi fully qualified.

Chen Yi wasn’t interested.

Miao Jing thanked her for her kind intentions: “He doesn’t like office work, nor being managed by others.”

It was somewhat hard to understand – this job would surely be better than roasting coffee beans, which only paid about 800 RMB per month.

But Miao Jing didn’t mind these things. She didn’t care what he did, as long as he was content.

Work was just play for him, but he kept going to the pool hall. They had an agreement – he would exercise his judgment, and Miao Jing wouldn’t try to control him.

Later, Miao Jing went with him to see the pool hall. It was in a relatively safe district, with both Colombians and foreigners present. People held beer bottles while chatting, creating a boisterously enthusiastic atmosphere. Chen Yi was popular, exchanging fist bumps and greetings with others along the way.

His posture as he leaned over the pool table was indeed striking – broad shoulders, trim waist, fitted clothes. Chewing gum, his bright eyes focused on the table, his shots quick and powerful, his demeanor sharp, completely set apart in another world.

Miao Jing spent an afternoon with him at the pool hall, chatting with others, and learned that Chen Yi had been practicing consistently. In this area, he could no longer find worthy opponents.

When a male colleague was planning to return to China for vacation and wanted to buy an emerald ring for his girlfriend back home, Si Nan had experience and brought Miao Jing along to help. Chen Yi came too, and as they were leaving, he pulled Miao Jing aside: “Buy this.”

“Hm?”

“This is beautiful, make them into emerald earrings. Not expensive,” his finger pointed, “This pair.”

Two emeralds with pure, clear color and brilliantly cut facets. Not overly expensive – Bogotá had many artisan shops that could design and set them beautifully.

Miao Jing hesitated, looking at him.

He jutted his chin forward, confidently commanding her: “Buy them, I’m giving them to you.”

She bought them.

After all, she held all the money.

As for bigger, more beautiful, more expensive gems, he said he’d give them to her when he had money later.

Miao Jing smiled radiantly and said okay.

Si Nan found the dynamics of their relationship quite puzzling.

After his café job ended, Chen Yi returned to being unemployed. He started frequenting competitive pool halls, with tournaments at each month’s end. Over twenty tables would be set up, crowds surging, players carrying cash for floating games, the noise as chaotic as a farmer’s market. On the first day of testing the waters, Chen Yi earned over 200,000 pesos.

A month later, he dropped a large black nylon bag in front of Miao Jing with a thud, lazily leaning back in his chair and slowly lighting a cigarette.

“What’s this?”

“See for yourself.”

An entire bag of messy, colorful bills – pesos, US dollars, and euros – so heavy Miao Jing could barely lift it.

“Where did this come from?” she asked calmly.

“Won it playing pool lately,” his expression remained lazy, showing no pride, “Plus my previous wages, monthly leftover living expenses… bits and pieces saved up.”

Miao Jing frowned. “Where are you gambling?”

“I found a local connection who took me to play – five-star hotels, casinos, nightclubs, private clubs… places where money flows freely.”

“Chen Yi!” Miao Jing felt uneasy, “You never told me about any of this.”

“Didn’t I make money playing pool in Teng City? Bogotá has casinos everywhere, these are just for entertainment, nothing dangerous. I’ve been here a year, I understand the survival rules.” He raised both hands, flashing a light smile, “Count how much there is.”

Four billion pesos.

Not a small amount.

Chen Yi pulled her onto his lap: “Don’t worry, it’s just to earn some capital. I’m not planning to make a living from gambling. I’ll find proper work – I never intended to depend on a woman forever.”

“Let’s buy a car with this money,” he considered briefly. “Having a car would be convenient, I could drive you to and from work, and we could go out on weekends easily.”

Miao Jing’s company project would last about three to four years, and it wasn’t certain how long they’d stay in Colombia. Buying a used car made more sense – they could sell it when they left.

They found a broker to look at cars and quickly decided on a target – Haval, a Chinese brand.

Chen Yi paid cash directly, bringing the nylon bag to meet the car owner at the café. When he unzipped it, the broker and car owner’s expressions changed dramatically, handling it like a bomb as they nervously went outside. After counting the money, they wiped their cold sweat – such a large amount, they couldn’t believe he dared to walk around carrying it so casually.

Chinese immigrants in Colombia typically ran travel agencies, worked as translators, did customs clearance and logistics, or operated shops. After getting the car, Chen Yi also took on some business – airport pickups, touring Bogotá with Chinese tourists, and earning a decent income.

During that time, Miao Jing often saw him with a cigarette, wearing ripped jeans and an old jacket, brazenly presenting himself to tourists, making them somewhat nervous.

“Do they dare get in your car?” she asked incredulously. “Don’t they think you look dangerous?”

“Just trick them into the car first,” he grinned mischievously. “Once we’re in the old town, they’ll realize how safe they feel with me around. If they want me to accompany them until evening, that’s a different price.”

Miao Jing laughed, reaching out to pinch his cheek: “You rascal.”

He leaned in to kiss her earlobe: “Rascal? Is that what you call me? After all these years I’ve taken care of you.”

She kissed him back: “What should I call you then? Brother?”

“You can call me anything normally,” he gave her a playful swat. They continued their cheerful banter as they went about their day.