Chapter 29

On the day she served the first client recommended by Wu Baiyan, Shang Mingbao had just finished a final exam that morning. To avoid being late, she quickly bought a sandwich and had her driver take her to Fifth Avenue.

The client was a typical Upper East Side old-money lady, holding a platinum bag encrusted with diamonds in her left hand and a Maltese dog in her right. Both the woman’s and the dog’s hair had a silky sheen, so much so that even a bee would slip off. When she saw Shang Mingbao, she didn’t remove her sunglasses, but instead, scrutinized her from head to toe.

Shang Mingbao had no doubt that if the woman found her displeasing, she would hand her fifty dollars for cab fare and dismiss her on the spot.

After the scrutiny, the woman let out a typical WASP-ish monosyllable from her nose and tossed the platinum bag into Mingbao’s arms. But with a full smile, elegant and slow, she said, “I thought Alan would recommend some good student with split ends, wearing Maybelline lipstick, and a coat so wrinkled it could crush an elephant. You, however… hum, not bad.”

Shang Mingbao forced a smile, held the platinum bag securely, and followed behind her into the five-story brick flagship store.

Clearly, unlike Alice and the others, this woman had truly seen the world. She exhibited a calm demeanor and strong opinions when it came to shopping. Shang Mingbao’s clumsy provocations were useless, so she dutifully served the woman’s dog throughout the entire time, only providing brief introductions when asked.

After visiting all the jewelry stores on Fifth Avenue, the woman headed to BG, a department store beloved by the old money. She bought a lot of items, though not much jewelry, which was beyond Mingbao’s commission scope.

God knows, she even picked up the dog’s poop to serve this woman well!

After leaving BG, the lady, named Wendy, suggested they visit 47th Street. The street, situated between Fifth and Sixth Avenues, is known as the Jewelry District, home to the world’s largest jewelry trading market. The street is lined with jewelry stores run by Jews, Indians, and Middle Easterners, offering everything from raw stones to finished pieces, with displays so flashy they could blind you.

The problem was that the usual shoppers here were jewelry experts, professional buyers with clear budgets searching for specific items, or gemstone wholesalers. Although Shang Mingbao considered herself knowledgeable, she still felt somewhat intimidated in this crowd of seasoned experts.

“You’re scared,” Wendy noticed her confidence had wavered.

“I didn’t bring any tools today,” Shang Mingbao found an excuse. To hunt for gems in a place like this, a full set of appraisal tools is essential, and she had none. Besides, she wasn’t formally trained in gemology; all her knowledge came from years of exposure since childhood.

Wendy didn’t make things difficult for her. After visiting a few stores, she adjusted her sunglasses and seriously told her, “I want a yellow diamond, one that would remind you of a primrose. Over 30 carats, with a budget of one million dollars. If you can find it, I’ll pay you a 5% commission on the spot.”

Shang Mingbao quickly did the math in her head—$50,000! Did she calculate that right? And since her father was betting against her at 100 times that amount, it would mean that if she succeeded, her father would owe her $5 million?!

The dilation of her pupils and her shock were impossible to hide. Wendy gave an ambiguous and slightly contemptuous smile, assuming she was excited about the $50,000.

Having learned her lesson, Shang Mingbao replied, “I can do it, but first, we need to sign a simple agreement, and you’ll need to prepay me $3,000 as a deposit. If I succeed, this amount will be deducted from my commission. If I don’t succeed, it will serve as my running fee and service charge, and it will not be refunded.”

Wendy squinted slightly, pointing at her with the hand holding her sunglasses as if to say she was being ungrateful.

Shang Mingbao’s coat was covered in the scent of Wendy’s dog. As she used her sleeve to shield the Maltese from the wind, she boldly said, “You’re aware of the market rates for my commission. Alan spoke highly of you, saying you’re the epitome of an Upper East Side lady, a model for others to emulate. I’m sure your taste and ethics are as refined as they come.”

The Maybach slowly pulled up to the curb, and Wendy snatched her dog and bag from Shang Mingbao’s hands before getting into the car, gritting her teeth. After a moment, she lowered the window, her face darkening as she said she would send someone with the contract and payment later.

Shang Mingbao, with a bright and practiced smile, waved at her, clutching the $500 tip Wendy had just given her.

Once the car had driven off, Shang Mingbao’s smile gradually faded. She looked down and casually brushed the dog hair off her coat.

The streets of Manhattan were narrow, the red brick buildings on either side resembling the clasped arms of zombies, squeezing the sky and earth into a narrow, straight line. She looked up at the sky for a moment, decided not to call her driver, and slowly walked back to Fifth Avenue.

The Christmas spirit was already in full swing, and under the glow of the green Christmas trees and colorful gift boxes, everyone seemed happy.

Those who were not happy stood out in the crowd, which is why Shang Mingbao immediately recognized Fang Suining, who was storming away after a phone call.

She wasn’t entirely sure at first because Fang Suining had makeup on today, her hair had grown longer, and she was wearing a gray coat. They passed each other in the cold wind.

With a click, her high heels abruptly stopped on the cobblestone street, and Fang Suining turned her head—

“Shang… Mingbao?”

The surprise on her face quickly turned to joy as she hurriedly rushed over to Shang Mingbao, just like she had in the summer years ago. “It’s really you? I didn’t recognize you! Baby baby baby ohh～like～”

Shang Mingbao: “…”

She was speechless.

What should have been a somewhat melancholic and somber moment was forcibly turned into a comedy by Fang Suining’s singing. After she finished, she hugged Shang Mingbao tightly, smiling as she sniffed. “It’s been so long.”

Shang Mingbao hadn’t logged into WeChat for years, so she didn’t know that Fang Suining had also come to study in New York, and they were even at the same university. They hadn’t run into each other, likely because they were in different majors.

Fang Suining invited her to a nearby café for a drink. She still protected her singing voice, so she asked for the syrup to be removed when she ordered.

Once they sat down comfortably in a window-side booth, Fang Suining, while taking off her coat, said, “Feiran-gege is also in New York, did you know?”

Shang Mingbao’s heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively responded, “Really?”

She couldn’t, and didn’t dare, let Fang Suining know that they had already kissed three times, and each time was intense.

“Yeah, but he’s at Columbia University, so he doesn’t often come this far downtown.” Fang Suining rolled up her sleeves. “We should get together for a drink sometime, the three of us.”

“No,” Shang Mingbao immediately objected, averting her gaze. “I’m not that close to him; it would be awkward.”

Fang Suining made an “Oh…” sound. “I remember giving you his business card. Why didn’t you add him?”

“I forgot.”

“The other day, Feiran-gege came back with two slices of blueberry cheesecake. I ate mine, but I think yours went bad.”

Shang Mingbao smiled. “You have a good memory.”

Fang Suining sensed something had changed about her.

She wasn’t as straightforward as before. Burdened with worries, she was like a feather dampened by rain, showing a melancholy and reserved side that didn’t suit her.

After a brief silence, Fang Suining smiled casually, “Not really, people just remember some odd little things.”

They shared updates about their lives, but the atmosphere wasn’t warm, cooling as quickly as the cup of coffee Shang Mingbao was absentmindedly stirring.

After the coffee had completely cooled, Fang Suining picked up her coat from the chair and politely said, “I’ve got some things to do, so let’s call it a day. See you next time?”

Shang Mingbao stood up with her and said, “Suining, it was great seeing you. I’ve just been feeling a bit off lately.”

Fang Suining immediately softened. “It’s okay, I just had a fight with someone. What’s your Snapchat? I’ll add you.”

Shang Mingbao gave her the username, and after adding her, they walked to the door together. Fang Suining asked with concern, “How are you doing after your surgery?”

“No problems.”

Fang Suining then laughed, “Oh no, I just remembered another odd little thing.”

“What?”

“I’d better not say. It’s about Xiang Feiran again.”

The glass door of the café chimed as it sensed someone approaching, but Shang Mingbao stopped and looked at Fang Suining. “Go ahead.”

Fang Suining couldn’t quite describe the look in her eyes; there seemed to be a bit of fear, but they were bright, filled with a soft hope.

Defeated by that look, Fang Suining smiled before saying, “It’s nothing. Just that during the days you were having your surgery, Feiran-gege was also in New York. He wasn’t supposed to come back yet, but he suddenly changed his flight and said he had something to take care of. Wow, do you know how expensive it is to change a flight to New York…”

It really was a trivial matter, long past and without much significance. Shang Mingbao dared not believe Xiang Feiran came to New York early for her, especially since he had told her that day not to be so self-centered.

Talking about Xiang Feiran with Fang Suining didn’t help Shang Mingbao sort out her feelings about him.

Fortunately, in the following days, after finishing her exams and reports, she buried herself in various jewelry markets in Manhattan, searching for that yellow diamond that would remind people of primroses.

She also became more adept at buying hot dogs and sandwiches from street vendors, drinking cheap, flavorless coffee and bland hot chocolate without flinching.

She only shared a photo of a hot dog with Xiang Feiran once, and after that, she never contacted him again.

A heavy snowfall blanketed the small town in northern Wisconsin. On the road leading back to the town, the graduate student was the first to say, “There’s a signal!”

Everyone immediately pulled out their phones, handling various matters and sharing their thoughts and feelings.

Xiang Feiran lifted his eyes. For some reason, he felt a nervous anticipation, like waiting for lottery results, his heart beating faster.

Had she sent him something, knowing there was no signal?

He didn’t care about anyone else, only looking at the chat window with her.

That single picture of a hot dog made Xiang Feiran feel both satisfied and unsatisfied. He was happy, smiling slightly, yet also disappointed, like winning a lottery but only getting two hundred bucks.

It turned out that even when he was this clear-headed, he was still greedy.

It wasn’t until they arrived at the hotel that Xiang Feiran finally sent his first message: “Why are you only eating this?”

The message took a long time to reach her, so long that Shang Mingbao had already browsed through all the large yellow diamonds at the top-floor jewelry stores on Madison Avenue before it appeared in her dizzy vision.

She sank into the soft sofa chair, holding a cup of jasmine tea that hadn’t yet steeped. The space was filled with the rich fragrance beloved by Indians, with voices murmuring softly around her. The thick carpet swallowed up the sounds of those million-dollar transactions and conversations.

Shang Mingbao hesitated for a long time, making sure it wasn’t her imagination before typing a flawless response: “Are you back? Or is there signal now?”

Xiang Feiran replied quickly: “Resting in the town today.”

Shang Mingbao: “Oh…”

After two seconds, Xiang Feiran asked: “Don’t you want to talk on the phone?”

Shang Mingbao blinked, feeling a slight bitterness.

She put down the jasmine tea and replied: “I do.”

Xiang Feiran: “Give me five minutes.”

“Does it mean to wait for him for five minutes, or does he have five minutes to talk?” Shang Mingbao couldn’t figure it out. She held her phone in both hands and quietly waited.

Those five minutes felt long—longer than the past ten days.

Unable to wait any longer, she asked the saleswoman at the jewelry store where she could smoke.

In the smoking area, there were five or six Middle Eastern and Indian men, adorned with gold and silver, large in stature, with that polite, serene smile they often wore. Shang Mingbao ignored their gazes, flicked open the metal cover of her lighter, and struck a flame.

She had just taken two puffs when the phone rang. She hurriedly extinguished the cigarette and started walking out, making a gesture to push open the door.

As soon as she spoke, her tone was so compliant that it surprised the surrounding men.

“Feiran-ge.”

On the other end of the line, there was the sound of wind and snow. Amidst that noise, she could hear his shallow breathing and steady voice, “Are you outside?”

“Mm, just shopping. How’s it going for you?” She leaned against the wall, gently pressing her back against it.

To better negotiate with these jewelers, she dressed far more maturely than her actual age—a high-necked black sweater, her hair tied up high, an Australian white pearl necklace hanging smoothly around her neck, and on her left wrist, outside the black sleeve, was a tourbillon watch with a full diamond strap worth millions. She was putting on a show, trying to make those slick jewelers see that she had good stuff and knew her way around.

But as soon as she heard Xiang Feiran’s voice, she reverted to her nineteen or sixteen-year-old self.

Xiang Feiran shared what had happened over the past few days in his usual calm tone. He spoke, and Shang Mingbao listened intently. When he finished, he was quiet for a few seconds, then said, “I’m not good at telling stories. Was that boring?”

“No,” Shang Mingbao shook her head, “not at all.”

Xiang Feiran wasn’t someone who liked to share much. Even when something as dangerous as possibly encountering a grizzly bear happened, it was one of the graduate students traveling with him who exaggeratedly shared the story. Xiang Feiran just listened on the side with a helpless smile, doubting whether they had even experienced the same thing.

He rarely had the desire to share with Shang Mingbao, but he knew he wasn’t good at telling stories—anything he said would become extremely bland and dull—so he simply didn’t share much. Moreover, these things might be boring or tedious to Shang Mingbao.

“Did you encounter any danger?” Shang Mingbao asked directly.

“We saw bear tracks, so we changed our route.”

“What would happen if you actually ran into a bear?” Shang Mingbao asked, her heart tightening.

“Then we’d only meet again in the next life.”

“Xiang Feiran!” Shang Mingbao urgently called him by his full name.

“The chances are very small. If it really happens, there’s nothing I can do. The only regret would be not knowing if you’d ever agree to my request,” Xiang Feiran said nonchalantly, “So, here’s a deal—next year, burn some paper offerings and let me know.”

Shang Mingbao coldly hung up the phone.

He’s awful.

He did it on purpose.

He’s a very, very bad commitment-phobe.

Naturally, the phone buzzed again.

Shang Mingbao deliberately let him wait several more seconds before answering. When she did, she didn’t say anything.

It seemed Xiang Feiran was stifling a laugh on the other end, and because he couldn’t hold it in, it turned into a playful chuckle, “Are you that mad?”

“Be careful, or I really won’t answer your calls anymore.” Shang Mingbao threatened him.

“Easy, I’ll just keep calling,” Xiang Feiran calmly replied, pinching his cigarette between his fingers, “I’ll call until you pick up.”

Shang Mingbao pursed her lips hard and said deliberately, “Anyway, you won’t have a signal tomorrow.”

“I have a satellite phone.”

“Oh,” Shang Mingbao replied stiffly, “I didn’t know you had a satellite phone.”

Even an idiot could hear the sarcasm in her voice. Xiang Feiran gave her a string of numbers, “Remember it.”

“I won’t remember it.”

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad at all,” Shang Mingbao said nonchalantly.

Xiang Feiran had never imagined that one day, this kind of classic, pointless conversation would actually happen to him.

He took a puff of his cigarette, letting the nicotine and tar mix with the cold, icy snow in his lungs, and said softly, “I want to tell you the reason, but it might make you even angrier.”

What kind of chat is this? Clearly, he’s just teasing.

Shang Mingbao could barely contain her frustration and stretched out her tone to command him, “Speak.”

His voice was calm and steady as it came through the phone, “I’m afraid that if I give you the number, you’ll be expecting my calls every day.”

The saleswoman who had just attended to Shang Mingbao watched her closely. Seeing her lower her hand and move the phone away from her ear, she let out a soft sigh.

Just a few lines of conversation made her feel a surge of heat and a sense of oxygen being thin, like she was about to drown.

She pretended to ignore it and murmured, “What’s there to be angry about with that reason…”

Xiang Feiran maintained his usual indifferent tone, “It sounds like sweet talk. I’m afraid you won’t believe it.”

Shang Mingbao’s heart raced. She forced herself to say, “I’m not that unreasonable. I know satellite phones are for emergencies, not for love talks.”

Xiang Feiran curved his lips as if he hadn’t heard her clearly and asked again, “What are they not for?”

Shang Mingbao: “…”

She stayed silent, and Xiang Feiran asked softly, “Does it count now?”

Love talks.

Shang Mingbao quickly denied, “Of course not.”

“Mm, I also think it doesn’t count yet. It’s still too polite.”

“You’re already being very impolite.” Shang Mingbao accused him.

“There are more impolite things.”

“Don’t—”

She was eager to stop him, but it was too late—

Xiang Feiran plainly said four words: “I miss you.”

If there weren’t so many people around, Shang Mingbao would have squatted down right there and buried her face in her arms.

She barely managed to smoke two puffs before snuffing out the cigarette. After Xiang Feiran spoke, he also let out a deep breath.

It was tough for him, with his personality, to say such things.

But not saying them would mean suffocating himself.

He now envied that graduate student he had just heard talking to his girlfriend, effortlessly spouting all sorts of sweet nothings, completely unconcerned about others overhearing. Unlike him, even though he spoke in Chinese, he still had to brave the wind and snow to express himself outdoors.

He wanted to ask Shang Mingbao if she missed him. But the two-minute affection seemed not worth pondering over, and asking might come off as presumptuous.

Well, if he were really eaten by a bear, next year’s paper offerings would include one more answer: Did she miss him?

He didn’t know, but his “I miss you” made Shang Mingbao’s face flush and her eyes redden.

She missed him too, even though she was caught off guard by his views on marriage, stepping into the bewildering, uncertain snowy day, her heart heavy with no resolution, like a bird with a stone caught on its claws. She still couldn’t control her longing for him.

He never intended to get married, which was good for her. He couldn’t be responsible, and she didn’t need him to be, making it mutually beneficial.

She didn’t need to worry about the future, fearing that lack of resolution would hurt him. She also didn’t need to entangle herself and hesitate to engage with him.

But she still wanted to ask, is it true? Did you never want a future when you pursued me from the start?

But she knew she had no right to ask, as her reality had already been set.

Hearing Shang Mingbao’s continued silence, Xiang Feiran smirked and said self-deprecatingly, “It’s my problem. I’ll sort it out myself.”

Shang Mingbao snapped out of her daze, “How will you sort it out?”

She asked unhappily. So, her matter, it seems, could be solved in ways other than seeing her?

Xiang Feiran responded gently, as if soothing a young child, “Think more about flowers and plants, and less about Shang Mingbao.”

In fact, he had even more offensive things he hadn’t told her.

For example, he started dreaming about her, which was something he never used to do. But such words went beyond Xiang Feiran’s personal boundaries, and he couldn’t bring himself to say them.

He remembered a year when Tan Shuo Yue went outdoors and called Xiang Weishan, casually mentioning that she had dreamed about him last night.

Xiang Weishan’s reply was very cold and distant. The exact words Xiang Feiran couldn’t recall, but he always remembered his mother’s expression under the moonlight, shifting from bright anticipation to calm desolation.

That scene was hard for Xiang Feiran to describe well until he, seventeen years old and alone, found himself back there after Tan Tau Yue’s tragic accident on the stone beach.

On a morning after a light snowfall, he sat on a rocky outcrop on the high mountain, watching the sunrise as the soft, pure snow slowly dried, revealing the gray, resolute rocks beneath.

That’s the life of the month.

To be honest, the first time he paid serious attention to Shang Mingbao was from Fang Suining’s casual remark: “Her parents are incredibly affectionate. She grew up in a loving environment.”

He was very curious to see what a child growing up in such a loving family would be like up close.

Later on, perhaps he looked too closely, too seriously.

Who knows?

Fate favors those who are already fortunate, and people are drawn to souls that are already full of love. She was indeed a very good child, with every moment of her existence showing signs of being loved. Thus, he wanted to pour out the little love he had to give.

Love makes her shine.