On the day of Ye Yan’s farewell dinner, Zhou Mi hadn’t expected her to invite Zhang Lian as well.

He was the last to arrive.

The entire table erupted in surprised cheers, frantically knocking bowls and chopsticks, like a group of out-of-control children. He stopped everyone like a well-mannered, refined lecturer, then smiled and handed the gift bag in his hand to Ye Yan.

Ye Yan took it, hugging it to her chest in ecstasy, speaking coquettishly: “Fabian, you’re so nice—why not just give yourself to me as a farewell gift too—”

Everyone at the table hooted with laughter.

Zhang Lian’s smile deepened, his camel-colored turtleneck sweater making his skin appear even fairer, presenting a pure jade-like luster even in the greasy barbecue restaurant environment.

He sat at an angle diagonal from Zhou Mi, four people away, neither close nor far.

As he took his seat, he looked around the table, and Zhou Mi met his gaze this way. She had been watching him the whole time, not avoiding his eyes—to be precise, everyone at the table was watching him.

Their eye contact was brief, fleeting.

Zhou Mi couldn’t quite remember what her expression had been at that moment, because in that instant her consciousness seemed to be deleted, as if sucked into the pitch-black outer space, experiencing an extremely brief weightlessness. Only after the man’s gaze slid away did her brain restore, forming clear and precise words.

But she guessed it must have been a smile, her lips curved in a faint arc.

Months of high-frequency socializing had gradually made her poised, composed, unruffled, with emotions not easily revealed.

Knowing which expression to display in which situation had become a neural reflex—both a trigger and a numbing.

She had also changed her hairstyle, no longer the air bangs that required painstaking half-hour fixing with a pink curling rod every day, but a middle part with slight waves, with hair on one side tucked smoothly behind her ear.

Zhou Mi had never liked exposing her forehead before, because she had a small brown mole near her hairline.

Half-hidden in her hair, it was not easily noticeable. Even her three intimate boyfriends knew nothing about it, but she used to think it was as annoying as an ink spot on white paper.

When changing her style earlier this month, the hairstylist had made a fuss: “Ah, miss, I just noticed you have a mole here, but it’s not obvious.”

Zhou Mi had glanced at him in the mirror: “Yes, it’s not obvious, it’s fine.”

The dinner was very down-to-earth and casual, with everyone talking extensively about work matters, teasing each other, laughing and joking.

In the end, Ye Yan, slightly tipsy, was in tears, sobbing with Tao Ziyi.

Zhou Mi also wiped the corners of her eyes, although, well, she was still someone easily infected and permeated by various atmospheres.

After nine, she received a WeChat message from Jijie asking: Baby, when will you finish? I’ll come to pick you up.

Zhou Mi glanced at the time and replied: Probably around ten.

Zhou Mi slowly finished half a glass of beer. The plain malt fermentation taste gave her an unreal yet very real sense of returning to basics, because she had already sipped or guzzled many times wines worth tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands, at her boyfriend’s various parties.

Near the end, everyone at the table had also quieted down considerably, the conversation becoming sporadic.

Ye Yan, leaning in a female colleague’s arms, her cheeks flushed, mumbled unclearly to announce the end of the gathering.

Zhou Mi put on her coat, pulled her hair out of the collar, said goodbye to everyone, hugged Ye Yan, and walked out of the restaurant.

Outside, Zhou Mi could finally breathe deeply, her white breath dissolving like thin milk in the cold air.

With Christmas approaching, nearby businesses had set up Christmas trees adorned with various ornaments at their entrances. The windows were covered with element-rich, cute stickers. The entire city was as glittering and radiant as a model wrapped in a crystal ball.

Colleagues came out one after another, and when passing Zhou Mi, they would all say goodbye. Some also asked how she was getting home, to which she would smile and say: Season is coming to pick me up.

They would tease: Ooh, still so sweet.

After watching a designer get into a taxi, Zhou Mi suddenly heard a familiar phone ringtone. She turned back in surprise—it was Zhang Lian coming out of the restaurant.

He was still using the English song she had suggested he change to during their time living together, when she thought his system ringtone was outdated—”Lot To Learn.”

She had chosen this song because it had no intro and the lyrics were quite meaningful.

Zhang Lian stopped at the roadside, not far from her, to answer the phone.

His coat was probably left in the car, but the sweater alone on his body didn’t make him look thin.

Perhaps she had been looking at him a bit too long, as the man’s eyes casually glanced her way.

Zhou Mi quickly averted her gaze, turning her attention to the fish-like flow of vehicles on the road ahead.

She heard him speaking very gently on the phone, his voice containing an indulgent smile: “Okay, got it, I’ll pick you up right away. Could you not talk like that, please?”

Zhou Mi lowered her eyes and took out her phone from her coat pocket, only to find that Jijie had sent her a new message saying there was some traffic on Qingping Road.

Zhou Mi replied: It’s okay, no rush. I can find a place to sit for a while.

Jijie sent back a [patting head] emoji.

Zhou Mi put her phone back in her pocket and glanced slightly to the side again, but Zhang Lian was no longer there.

—

On the way home, neon lights decorated the car like a colorful light box. Stopping at a red light, Jijie suddenly turned his face toward her and smiled as he announced: “Mimi, I’ve rented an apartment for you next to the Jiuli Building.”

Zhou Mi’s fine eyebrows raised slightly, and she let out a somewhat surprised “Ah?”

She rarely displayed this kind of sudden, girlish expression now. Jijie found it adorable and freed one hand from the steering wheel to pinch her left cheek: “Your home is a bit far from the company, and I can’t pick you up and drop you off every day, so I hope you won’t have to be so tired.”

Zhou Mi blinked: “Tired? I think it’s fine.”

Jijie said: “But I really can’t bear to see my beautiful girlfriend squeeze onto the subway every few days. Sometimes I can bring Na Ke Lu Lu to stay over too. We’re not students anymore, always going to hotels doesn’t seem right.”

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear: “I want you to be happy every day, like a carefree little princess. Let me worry about the trivial things.”

Zhou Mi didn’t speak further, just smiled, silently acquiescing and grateful.

Jijie said: “Shall I take you to see it now? You’ll like it.”

Zhou Mi continued to smile: “Sure.”

—

Back at home, Zhou Mi removed her jewelry, took off her coat, and flopped across the bed in a spread-eagled position, as if releasing tension.

Tang Peili’s loud voice was calling her to come out for pigeon soup.

Zhou Mi shouted: “I’ve already had barbecue—”

Tang Peili came to the doorway, her volume not decreasing one bit: “You’re too thin now. What if one day little Ji proposes to you? After getting married, having children is just a matter of time, especially since you’ve injured yourself before, you need to nourish yourself more.”

Zhou Mi’s legs, dangling over the edge of the bed, stopped swinging. She said softly, “He knows I dated Zhang Lian before.”

Tang Peili lowered her voice: “But he doesn’t know you’ve had an abortion, you must never tell him that.”

Zhou Mi sat up straight, her expression determined: “I will tell him.”

Tang Peili clicked her tongue: “Why can’t you think straight, child? Being so stubborn. If you don’t tell, who would know?”

Zhou Mi suddenly felt irritable: “Can you leave, please?”

Tang Peili insisted: “You come out and drink the soup, and I’ll leave.”

Zhou Mi sat back at the dining table, absently stirring the oil slick on the surface with a white soup spoon.

Tang Peili sat beside her, hands on the table: “I always say heaven is fair, it sees everything. So what if Zhang Lian left? He made my daughter suffer like this. How is little Ji not better than Zhang Lian in every way?”

She proudly and admiringly looked at her daughter: “Mimi, look at you now, so refined, so high-class, with an upper-class aura. When you were dating Zhang Lian, you didn’t have this kind of transformation, you were still just a student-like young girl. It shows he never truly cared about you, never wanted to put effort or cost into you. No wonder in the end he could just say no to marriage—because he never invested in the first place.”

With a clang, Zhou Mi dropped the soup spoon into the porcelain bowl and left the kitchen.

—

Zhou Mi locked herself in her bedroom.

In her mind, a white figure ran frantically day and night, pushed by invisible storms, alternating back and forth between fantastical jungles and barren wilderness, the direction blurred, yet unable to stop.

She changed position to lie on her side.

After thinking for a while, Zhou Mi got out of bed, dug out her AirPods from her bag, put them on, and found that song in her playlist. The length and time it took to find it exceeded her imagination, just like the only time last month when she had looked up Zhang Lian in her WeChat contacts.

Zhou Mi pressed play.

The young male voice surged out instantly, with a slightly magnetic and raspy quality that wasn’t jarring, giving it a distinctive personal tone.

“If I were the question, would you be my answer

If I were the music, would you be the dancer?

If I were the student, would you be the teacher?

If I were the sinner, would you be the preacher?

Would you be my”

On the day she had ordered Zhang Lian to set this as his ringtone, she had awkwardly asked him: “Wouldn’t changing to this music make you seem immature and unstable?”

Zhang Lian had said, “No, I like this song, especially the title and lyrics.”

Zhou Mi had asked: “Why?”

Zhang Lian had said, “We indeed have many things we don’t understand and still need to learn about, don’t we?”

Zhou Mi, somewhat entranced, put this song on repeat many times.

Her body curled tighter and tighter, like a rose placed on a hot griddle, passively shriveling and withering.

—

On Christmas Day, Zhou Mi moved into the apartment Jijie had rented for her. Mindful of her boyfriend waiting for her at home after work, she didn’t stay for the entire company party.

Jijie was dressed cheerfully in a bright red sweater with snowflake patterns. As soon as she entered, she was embraced like a graceful black swan in his arms.

The two-meter-high Christmas tree in the living room was like a green spire covered with stars, glittering brilliantly. The two laughed as they sprayed each other with champagne, then cuddled on the sofa, petting the dog and kissing.

The floor heating made the room as warm as spring.

After coming out of her shower, she once again nestled into Jijie’s arms.

He was intently playing King of Glory. Zhou Mi watched along and, feeling playful, ran her index finger across his screen.

Jijie laughed: “Hey, don’t mess around.”

Zhou Mi then used two fingers to interfere with his operation.

Jijie smiled helplessly and tossed aside his phone: “I’m not playing anymore.”

Zhou Mi thought he was upset and immediately sobered: “I’m sorry.”

“If I get reported, so be it,” Jijie said, then leaned over to kiss her.

Zhou Mi took another shower, and when she returned to bed, Jijie was still in the living room playing games with friends.

She took out a book from the bedside table and read attentively for a while.

At nearly midnight, Jijie returned to the bedroom and sat back against the same warm, soft blanket.

Jijie had high requirements for sleep and also slept well. He didn’t like to cuddle while sleeping, so usually Zhou Mi would only nestle in his arms for a while before bed, then after the lights went out, they would sleep apart.

Sometimes Zhou Mi would hold him from behind in the middle of the night after waking from a nightmare. Hugging Jijie felt like holding a quiet tree trunk, or rather, herself becoming a green seedling silently performing photosynthesis.

Zhou Mi leaned against Jijie, using his upper arm as a pillow while continuing to read her book.

Jijie naturally encircled her, his other hand typing messages on WeChat. After a moment, he suddenly asked: “Mimi, did your leader leave to change jobs?”

Zhou Mi diverted her attention from the book and glanced at him: “No, her mother isn’t well.”

Jijie asked: “How long had she been at Aoxing?”

Zhou Mi wasn’t very certain: “About three years, I think.”

Jijie pondered for a moment: “Have you ever thought about changing jobs? For example, working on the client side.”

Zhou Mi froze, with a second of silence in her mind, then immediately sat up straight, turned around, her clear black and white eyes showing confusion.

Jijie curved his lips and raised his hand to rub her head: “If you still want to be an AE, I know quite a few executives at other 4A agencies. It would be easy to get someone to refer you internally.”