“What would you like to eat?” Sun Yuanzhu asked Song Qiuhan. Her mascara was smeared around her eyes, looking quite disheveled.

Song Qiuhan shook her head: “I don’t know what I want to eat. I feel like today has been terrible. Is it just me having such a bad day, or is everyone’s life like this?”

“You know what? Our startup project can’t secure any investment. We don’t even need much money, just time. But no one is willing to give us time.”

“We identified the marriage market in second and third-tier cities as promising, but that market is too complicated. Our event in Handan was disrupted, and some members got hurt.”

“My foot hurts so much.”

Song Qiuhan thought she had been strong, but she still completely fell apart in front of Sun Yuanzhu. He listened quietly, only occasionally passing her tissues.

By evening, Song Qiuhan finally felt a bit better. She wiped away her last tear and smiled somewhat bashfully: “I was terrible today. Thank you, Sun Yuanzhu. Did I frighten you?”

“No.” Sun Yuanzhu thought for a moment and handed Song Qiuhan another tissue. “I have a friend who often has suicidal thoughts. When he gets emotional, he’s much worse than you just now. It’s nothing—being able to release emotions is a good thing.”

“You know what? I think the best thing that happened to me was when that agency cheated me, forcing me to live here, and then I met all of you.”

This was wonderful.

Truly wonderful.

They both felt that fate often plays tricks on people, but not all outcomes are losses. Occasionally, after extreme bitterness comes a bit of sweetness—that’s life’s normal pattern.

===

Shang Zhitao’s work review was indeed just a formality. She presented her report while her colleagues did their work. Alex asked a few casual questions and then submitted the evaluation. She was a bit confused—this was completely different from the expert reviews she’d heard about. After it ended, she secretly asked Lu Mi: “Did I pass?”

“Of course.”

“Really. Alex told me that our department has a high quota this year, and you’ve been working so hard, so naturally you passed.”

“Will my salary increase?”

“Yes, probably around 15%.”

Shang Zhitao mentally counted on her fingers, then widened her eyes: “15%?! That’s too much!”

Lu Mi laughed at her silly expression: “You have such low expectations!”

After giggling for a while, they finally focused and started working. For the next few summit meetings, Lu Mi was the project manager, and Shang Zhitao volunteered to organize the sub-venue meetings to help reduce Lu Mi’s pressure, conscientiously being a good colleague.

This busy period lasted until August.

Work is like that—once you get busy, you gradually lose your life outside it. Shang Zhitao didn’t yet understand how to separate herself from work. Once she dove in, it was hard to come back out. She was also conscientious—any task that came to her couldn’t have mistakes. Even the tiniest error was unforgivable to her.

At the celebration party after the Luoyang event ended, Shang Zhitao had a bit to drink. The weight lifted from her heart, she held Lu Mi’s hand and asked: “Did I coordinate well?”

“Extremely well.” Lu Mi gave her a thumbs up, then said: “The company has given our department a special collective holiday, four days, for team building. You should take this opportunity to rest properly.”

“Huh?” It was the first time Shang Zhitao had heard of a special collective holiday: “What kind of holiday is this? There’s such a holiday?”

“Because we’ve been working on these projects day and night, and it’s been very tiring, the company has given us a special holiday and funds. Alex just mentioned he wanted to use the weekend to take us to the seaside.”

“Wow.”

Shang Zhitao liked the seaside, but she rarely had the chance to go.

“Where are we going?”

“They said Phuket Island.”

“Wow!”

“Let’s buy bikinis together when we get back to Beijing!”

Shang Zhitao’s mind was dominated by the word “bikini.” Her head was filled with sunshine, beaches, coconut trees, women in bikinis, and foreign hunks with abs. Humming a tune, she went back to her room to get her things, but at the hotel atrium, she saw Luan Nian standing there talking on the phone, his back to her, seeming to be in a good mood. As she passed by, she heard Luan Nian say: “You just want one bouquet?”

“Alright. Then I’ll see you with flowers this weekend.”

See you with flowers this weekend. Walking along, Shang Zhitao imagined Luan Nian carrying flowers down the street, certainly drawing attention. Suddenly, she decided to go to Mount Tai with her roommates this weekend. So she replied in the group chat: “I just confirmed, Friday works fine for me!” She thought she shouldn’t give up the opportunity to meet friends just because she was supposed to see him on Friday. She should have the weekend she wanted to have—when she wanted to be with him, she would go find him; when she didn’t want to be with him, she would make her plans, like now.

Once the decision was made, she started looking forward to it. Thursday evening at home, she carefully listened to Zhang Ling explain strategies for climbing Mount Tai at night. The four of them unanimously decided to travel light and rent army coats on the mountain. The two guys would carry the heavy stuff—everyone’s snacks and fruit—while each person would just carry one bottle of water.

Shang Zhitao prepared a change of clothes and a backpack according to Zhang Ling’s advice. The next morning, she left for work at five o’clock. Due to her damned sense of responsibility and moral conscience, she couldn’t bring herself to skip work openly. She preferred to arrive at the office early to make up the time, so she wouldn’t feel guilty when she left.

But when she heard Alex announce during a meeting that the company reward trip had finally been decided to be in Phuket, with all expenses covered by the company, she suddenly changed her mind. She proactively asked Alex for leave: “Alex, can I leave at two this afternoon?”

“Sure.” Alex didn’t even ask for a reason, which made Shang Zhitao feel touched.

At two in the afternoon, she proudly left the company with her backpack on. She felt ashamed for having considered skipping work. As she exited the elevator, she ran into Luan Nian returning from a business trip, his suitcase standing beside him as he leisurely waited for the elevator. Seeing Shang Zhitao with her backpack, he glanced at his watch, then looked at her.

Shang Zhitao smiled at him and nervously said: “Hello, Luke.”

“Skipping work?”

People were passing by, and the words “skipping work” gave Shang Zhitao cold sweats. She was somewhat afraid Luan Nian might have a neurotic episode. Since Alex hadn’t asked her to submit a leave request online, she was a bit worried about implicating Alex. She could only give Luan Nian a pleading look. Luan Nian saw it but pretended not to.

He calmly asked her again: “Skipping work?”

Shang Zhitao could tell he was in a bad mood. From experience, she knew not to argue with him when he was like this. She had to say: “I have something urgent to attend to.”

“Did you notify Alex and attendance?”

“I did.”

“Where are you going?”

“Hiking with friends.”

“Today is Friday.”

“Yes, we’re going today and coming back Sunday.” Behind them, the elevator doors opened and closed repeatedly. Several groups of people had gone down, but the strange standoff between her and Luan Nian had not ended. Shang Zhitao knew what Luan Nian meant by “today is Friday,” but she didn’t want to respond to it.

Not every Friday when you want to see me should I be available. She smiled slightly at Luan Nian: “I should go now, Luke. Goodbye.” Then she turned and ran.

She got on the subway and hurried all the way to the train station. The four of them rarely had such a short trip together, and everyone felt extremely happy.

Shang Zhitao’s first night climb in her life was dedicated to Mount Tai. They started climbing toward the summit step by step from eleven at night. It was a magical experience—the temperature gradually dropped, a narrow uphill path, with all kinds of people around them. There were even elderly people with canes, taking a step and stopping, as if on a pilgrimage.

The faint lights on the mountain path were like stars scattered in the mortal world, guiding you toward the vast universe.

On this Friday night without Luan Nian, Shang Zhitao wasn’t having a bad time at all. It’s just that for someone not used to hiking, such intensity was quite tiring, and she gradually fell behind.

When Sun Yuanzhu couldn’t hear Shang Zhitao humming anymore, he looked back and saw that she had disappeared. So he told Song Qiuhan and Zhang Ling: “Wait ahead, I’ll go find Shang Zhitao.”

He went against the flow of people and, after about three hundred steps, finally saw Shang Zhitao. She was wiping away sweat and seemed a bit cold. Seeing Sun Yuanzhu coming to look for her, she smiled happily.

The two climbed side by side. Shang Zhitao envied Sun Yuanzhu’s good stamina and couldn’t help asking: “Why can you climb so fast?”

“Because I grew up in the mountains. The best childhood pastime was climbing mountains.”

“Is it fun on the mountains?”

“There’s a magical world hidden there.”

Shang Zhitao was looking forward to the magical world Sun Yuanzhu spoke of—it must be very interesting. When they reached the Eighteen Bends section, with steep cliffs resembling heavenly steps through clouds, Shang Zhitao’s legs felt weak. A warm hand firmly grasped hers; Sun Yuanzhu said softly: “Let me help you.”

Warmth pierced through the cold, leaving a light trace in the human body. Like spring rain moistening things silently, making people still feel its lingering presence when thinking about it later.

They reached the top of the mountain. Everyone was wrapped in an army coat, finding the best spot to watch the sunrise at the summit of Mount Tai, Jade Emperor Peak, and each curled up to sleep. The sunrise that day was at 5:57 a.m. Before that, the sea of clouds gradually appeared. Sun Yuanzhu woke them up one by one, saying: “It’s about to dawn.”

It’s about to dawn.

Song Qiuhan repeated this phrase. They sat side by side, watching the sea of clouds gradually change color before their eyes. When the sun peeked out a bit and finally jumped out from the cloud layer, Shang Zhitao heard Sun Yuanzhu say: “I want to jump into this sea of clouds.”

There were even tears in his eyes.

They all remained silent, not knowing what to say, only feeling that all the hardships of the journey were rewarded in this moment. In this life, there must be many, many such experiences—after the bitterness comes sweetness, making all experiences worthwhile.

They took photos at the most scenic spots on the way down. Shang Zhitao liked three photos the most: one with all four of them standing in a row, basking in the morning light—the best moment in life; another was a photo of her and Song Qiuhan, with Song Qiuhan leaning her head on her shoulder, both laughing joyfully; and one more of her and Sun Yuanzhu, the two standing with a bit of distance between them, as if someone had said something, and they glanced at each other.

They were in their twenties then. The twenties really were the best time—with vigorous metabolism, an age when you could eat as much as you wanted without gaining weight. An age of looking young and inexperienced, with clear eyes.

Many people met at that time were worth cherishing for a lifetime.

I’m telling the truth.

While they were getting foot massages, Song Qiuhan repeatedly whispered those words in Shang Zhitao’s ear, then asked her: “Will this work as the promotional slogan for our matchmaking event?”

“Yes, it will.”