Mingbao is Remarkable
Mingbao is Remarkable Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Due to the unexpected snowstorm warning, the inspection work had to be concluded two days earlier.

The decision was made by the team leader of the commissioning party. At that time, they had already ascended to Rebeau Mountain, which was once recognized as the highest point in Wisconsin. The quartzite peak here had been covered by continuous snowfall. Looking out into the distance, the white birch and oak trees on the hillside were draped in silver, and the northern plains and lakes, under the midday sun, glistened with a light blue hue like an icy surface.

Spending Christmas here doesn’t quite feel right.

When the news broke, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and began wishing each other a Merry Christmas in advance. Since the withdrawal had to be quick, they hastened to pack up their gear and samples. Xiang Feiran knelt down, gently brushing away the soft snow on the rocks with his gloved hand, and picked up the shiniest piece of white quartz.

Next, he rolled up the sleeves of his cold-proof jacket, and checked the current time, longitude, latitude, and altitude on his outdoor watch.

Descending in the snow couldn’t be done quickly; though the mountain wasn’t high, it was already dusk by the time they reached the base, with fog swirling among the trees. The client’s off-road vehicle was waiting at the nearest mountain pass, and once they were picked up, they headed straight to the airport.

Since the mission was completed, everyone in the three off-road vehicles was no longer forcing themselves to stay awake and slept in various awkward positions. Xiang Feiran remained in his corner at the back row by the window, sealing the quartz in a bag and labeling it with the coordinates and time using a marker.

After entering the signal zone, he didn’t seek out Shang Mingbao but instead dealt with other matters at hand.

He wondered if going directly to New York University to find her the next day would startle her.

After handling all the piled-up official business, Xiang Feiran even connected his laptop to the internet and calmly helped an intern with several hours of debugging.

Upon arriving at the airport, the three parties hugged goodbye, enthusiastically praising each other’s professionalism and responsibility, and agreed to meet again in the spring of the coming year.

The small talk from foreigners was unbearable, so Xiang Feiran played the role of the silent one, carrying his hiking bag with his hands in his pockets, standing straight and casually like a black flagpole.

Despite having spent three years in the U.S. and an additional year at Qiu Yuan, Xiang Feiran still hadn’t learned to handle the excessive politeness of white people. His face didn’t show the programmed micro-expressions typical in such interactions. He presented himself as calmly and quietly as a plant, automatically entering a dormant state when not working, and maintaining eye contact with speaking objects was his greatest courtesy.

But Xiang Feiran wasn’t someone with no presence; on the contrary, he was very noticeable. He could secure the most meet-ups, and high-level figures were willing to make time for him. Professors who had interacted with him at academic conferences were eager to reserve a spot for him at their internal dinners and introduce him to others.

Of course, this came with many troubles—like “blind dates.”

Academics often had their own reasons, such as “my niece wants to visit Columbia,” “my granddaughter is participating in an academic competition,” “my daughter is struggling with her future direction,” or—”I need someone to look after my two golden retrievers over the weekend; you come to my Hamptons villa”—and opening the door to find that the professor’s little daughter is also vacationing there.

Xiang Feiran wasn’t sure how they picked him; as a botanist with no money and visibly unsocial, he should be considered a young person with a rather bleak future. He could only say that these professors weren’t very sincere in choosing partners for their daughters/nieces.

To avoid these meaningless entanglements, he had to occasionally reveal in casual conversations that he had no intention of marrying.

Although being a non-marriage advocate didn’t mean he was a celibate preparing to don a monk’s robe and ring the temple bell, for academic circles and interest-based marriages, a certificate was clearly more reliable and stable than a de facto marriage formed after living together for years.

People around him eventually learned about his lifelong vow of celibacy. This was the only personal matter they could discuss, but as it gradually became a widely recognized understanding, they stopped mentioning it.

The associate professor who came along was relatively familiar with Xiang Feiran and warmly invited him to spend Christmas at his home. Xiang Feiran declined, as expected.

“So what are your plans? Staying alone? Simon has a girlfriend,” the associate professor teased.

Xiang Feiran nodded, “Staying alone.”

“Don’t you feel lonely? Perhaps you could visit a Christmas market or attend a party—Lin Xi from your group, I hear she’s quite the socialite among Chinese students.”

Lin Xi had indeed invited him several times to those lively group events, but Xiang Feiran’s reaction was lukewarm, so she understood. As for feeling lonely at the end of the year amidst the dense festive days, Xiang Feiran was quite used to it. Fang Suining would occasionally come to dine and walk with him, but since she would always dump her emotional trash, it inevitably turned into her saying “break up” as soon as she opened her mouth.

Unless it was a complete breakup, Fang Suining didn’t have the face to meet him.

After chatting for a while, the boarding announcement came through.

Xiang Feiran joined the end of the line, opened IG, and checked Shang Mingbao’s life snippets from the past two weeks. She had shared her end-of-term grades and the heavy snowfall in New York.

Two days ago, something happy must have happened as she posted a selfie with a huge diamond. Although she wore very light makeup, it seemed more precious to Xiang Feiran than the yellow rock candy next to it. Someone below asked if it was her end-of-term reward and New Year’s gift.

After passing through the boarding gate and entering the jet bridge, a chat popped up from the band’s group. The drummer who replaced him recently, Fei Ye, had fallen into a sewer and hurt his head, and the band was now looking for someone to fill in and also scolded a certain disabled person (referring to a mute) for being unreliable.

Xiang Feiran’s relationship with them was similar to that with the domestic group—commercial collaborations, not a formal member. However, he was the first-choice drummer for this band due to his style, technique, and minimal chit-chat, and his face often received generous tips from wealthy women.

Continuous leave was against professional ethics, and with the increased performance fees during the Christmas season, Xiang Feiran pondered for a moment and sent a “1” in the group chat.

The entire group felt relieved, as this was what he had promised when he agreed to step in.

New York was blanketed in snow, but the news reported that even stronger snowfall was expected.

After visiting all the jewelry markets in New York, Shang Mingbao found the yellow diamond she had in mind.

The 30ct diamond sparkled brilliantly. Although it paled slightly compared to her mother’s 107ct diamond, Shang Mingbao was confident that this was the highest quality she could obtain within the budget. Wendy should know well that a diamond of this grade would cost up to 5.

Shang Mingbao sent Wendy a certificate and a video of the diamond from various angles in advance, saying, “Fancy yellow, VVS2 clarity, nearly flawless quality, cushion cut. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

Two days later, Wendy agreed to come and see it that afternoon and specifically instructed her to dress up and wear full makeup.

When she arrived at the top floor of Madison with an entire filming crew, Shang Mingbao realized she was shooting a “reality show.”

The lifestyle of top socialites was always a hot topic. Wendy had a team managing her personal accounts on YouTube and Instagram, and such high-profile exposure was also intended to help her husband’s business.

The film crew briefly outlined the scenes and lines Shang Mingbao needed to cooperate with and verbally changed the transaction price to three million dollars.

Wendy noticed her discomfort and squinted, asking, “Aren’t you willing?”

Shang Mingbao, who was accustomed to maintaining a low profile and spending a fortune on security and public relations to protect her privacy, had no desire to appear in an Upper East Side socialite’s vlog.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” Wendy said with her usual natural elegance and arrogance, petting her dog, “It’s an honor for you to appear as my jewelry consultant. Soon, more people will want to invite you because I am your perfect endorsement.”

Shang Mingbao had to admit, she was quite tempted.

As the vlog was being filmed, she wore a trademark forced smile and proudly became the Upper East Side socialite’s private jewelry consultant, an experienced and talented gem broker, and a mysterious worker serving only the wealthy.

…She mustn’t let her family see this!

Wendy was generous, paying the commission on the spot after signing the check, saying, “I’ll tag you when it’s posted.”

She acted as if she was bringing Shang Mingbao under her wing. Shang Mingbao quickly registered a new account and chose a new English name for herself: Gloria.

It suited her new “gem expert” identity.

By the time the shooting was done, it was already 5 PM. From the top floor, the city was covered in snow, with the dense glass skyscrapers lit up, glowing with a golden and honey-like brilliance. The light was so thick it almost seemed like it could stick to the snowstorm.

Yes, in New York, money was lighter than snow.

With a $50,000 check in her pocket, Shang Mingbao’s gaze wandered back from the buildings.

Wendy put on a mink coat, sunglasses, and cradled her dog, casually saying in the midst of a crowd, “You should be grateful that you have such a good boyfriend as Alan.”

Shang Mingbao denied, “He’s not.”

Wendy shrugged and said, “Who knows? He’s waiting for you outside. Maybe tonight is the night.”

As they exited the jewelry store’s tight security, Shang Mingbao saw Wu Baiyan standing in the outside waiting area, idly looking at a painting.

After flattering Wendy a few times, Wu Baiyan turned directly to Shang Mingbao, “Since the first deal was such a success, should you buy me a drink?”

Shang Mingbao looked at him skeptically and squinted, “She wouldn’t be doing this because of you…”

“Of course not,” Wu Baiyan laughed, “It’s because you’re capable. I just made the introduction. Wendy said you are very generous and she likes you.”

Shang Mingbao thought it was hard to interpret “liking” from her two nostrils.

Wu Baiyan had been a big help with this order, and out of both sentiment and reason, Shang Mingbao should treat him to a drink. Wu Baiyan suggested going to a basement bar downtown with great drinks and live performances.

Exiting the building, it was indeed snowing heavily, covering Wu Baiyan’s car with a thick layer, showing that he had been waiting upstairs for a long time.

He hadn’t called a driver today and drove a two-door sports car himself so he could logically invite Shang Mingbao to sit in the passenger seat.

Starting the engine, he said stubbornly, “You probably think I’d buckle you in. Don’t worry, I’m not that uncouth.”

Shang Mingbao buckled the seatbelt herself, “Why do you have so much inner drama every day?”

Wu Baiyan cleared his throat and held the steering wheel, “I’m more afraid that you’ll misunderstand my intentions. You know I was drunk that day in the attic.”

Shang Mingbao forced a smile at him.

With a roar of the engine, they drove into the downtown through the dark, snowy night.

They were stuck in traffic for a while. By the time they arrived at the bar called 21N, it was already past seven.

“Oh, this place,” Shang Mingbao recognized it.

The block was filled with countless bars, and the white drummer she had dated once or twice was performing at the bar next door.

Wu Baiyan threw the car keys to the valet, gave him a hundred-dollar tip, and glanced at Shang Mingbao, “Been here before?”

“No, but I’ve been to the place next door. The drummer there was decent.”

Wu Baiyan sneered and frowned, “Do you like that type?”

To be honest, he knew because Shang Mingbao had posted a photo with him on Instagram. He hadn’t paid much attention to this half-acquainted childhood friend at the time but found her drunk look quite interesting.

Shang Mingbao forced another smile, “It’s alright.”

Walking down the stairs into the basement, the security guard at the door gave them a once-over. Wu Baiyan said nothing, and Shang Mingbao, dressed quite maturely today, was let through after the guard gave her a quick glance.

Pushing open the door revealed a different world.

It was a typical American industrial style, with a gray color scheme, but without flashy graffiti or colorful lights—just a cool, aloof vibe. The place was quite packed; by a little past seven, it was nearly full, and arriving later might mean waiting in line.

Shang Mingbao had heard from the drummer that it was common for the bar to be selective about who gets in, especially if the person’s vibe didn’t match the place.

He also mentioned that the regular band performing here was excellent, especially their drummer. Unfortunately, the drummer was mute.

Although Shang Mingbao jokingly said she would come in to listen, the drummer firmly refused, saying that he would make her look pale by comparison and that it wouldn’t be good for him to showcase his charm. His straightforward honesty had a certain appeal that Shang Mingbao found attractive.

Because of this connection, she noticed the semi-circular stage in the middle of the room right away. There was a microphone stand, guitar, bass, electronic keyboard, and a set of silver drums that gleamed under the spotlight, with two drumsticks resting on top.

Since it wasn’t yet time for the performance, Shang Mingbao took off her coat and sat on a genuine leather armchair, facing the stage.

Having spent a lot of time on a photo shoot and talking a lot, she was already very hungry. She ordered a seafood platter and a mixed rose-flavored sherry cocktail.

Wu Baiyan slowly made additional orders, checking with Shang Mingbao, and then casually said, “I only just discovered this place through a friend and haven’t been here many times. If you don’t like it, we can try somewhere else next time.”

Shang Mingbao, sipping her ice lemon water, asked warily, “There’s going to be a next time?”

Wu Baiyan glanced at her, “Can you stop being so suspicious? What can I do to you?”

His nonchalant attitude made Shang Mingbao’s wariness seem a bit pretentious. She took out her phone, opened the chat with Xiang Feiran, and said, “Alright, enough about that. Order your food.”

Xiang Feiran was expected to be away for another three days, so Shang Mingbao typed out a message: [Brother Feiran, I made a big deal today.]

If Wu Baiyan hadn’t been waiting there, Xiang Feiran would have been the first person she shared this with.

Xiang Feiran had just entered the bar through the back door. After pushing open the door to the changing room, he took off his cold-weather hat and brushed off the snow from his coat.

His mute persona was well-established, and when communication was necessary, he used sign language—self-taught. Since no one could understand it, over time, it simplified to typing, and because it was too cumbersome, he was now almost nonexistent in communication.

When the lead singer mentioned that there was a particularly beautiful Asian girl outside, Xiang Feiran didn’t take it seriously, thinking about what excuse to use to get Shang Mingbao to come out tomorrow.

The lead singer used the word “hot,” which would be better translated as “beautiful” or “attractive” in this context.

Of course.

Because Shang Mingbao was wearing a black, high-neck, shoulder-baring knit top today, which was form-fitting and accentuated her curves, with a slim waist. Her hair was styled in a high bun, with slightly curled bangs, and the pearl necklace from Australia still adorned her slender neck. Her overall demeanor was clear and elegant. She didn’t wear the million-dollar watch, fearing that Wendy might get suspicious, and instead opted for a small Roman numeral bracelet watch.

Xiang Feiran had no interest in looking at beautiful women, so when the lead singer forcefully dragged him to the side door to see her, he was caught off guard.

The zipper of his jacket halted abruptly halfway, and Xiang Feiran’s expression remained impassive, though there was a ripple of emotion in his eyes.

Seeing someone he had been thinking about for half a month suddenly appear before him made his hands itch inexplicably.

Returning to the changing room calmly, he hung up his jacket and then, under the silent gaze of the band, slowly put on a fisherman’s hat and a black mask.

Everyone: “……?”

A mute person doesn’t need to explain any motives; they just need to act and remain composed, and others will assume they must have a reason.

The lead singer understood: “His ex-girlfriend and current girlfriend are both outside.”

Xiang Feiran pulled down his mask, first giving a warning glance, and then leaned against the changing room door while opening a bottle of water and checking his WhatsApp.

Seeing Shang Mingbao’s message, he squinted and didn’t reply immediately.

Fine, calling him brother Feiran while celebrating with some other kid.

It was time for the performance.

Xiang Feiran was the last to take the stage, holding a half-finished bottle of mineral water, wearing a loose sweatshirt, with no accessories, and his sports pants partially covering his black-and-white basketball shoes.

After sitting behind the drums, he set down the water bottle and picked up the drumsticks.

They had accumulated some fans from their long-term performances, so there was a lively cheer when he appeared, followed by a series of whistles.

Shang Mingbao sipped her drink, turned her face, and first saw the lead singer greeting the audience with the guitar. Her second glance went to the legendary drummer.

Hmm… why is he so thoroughly covered up?

The brim of the fisherman’s hat blocked the light, casting a casual shadow over his sharply defined features.

He wore a mask, and his bangs fell over his eyes, hiding his lowered gaze. Despite such thorough concealment, his high nose bridge and smooth bone structure were apparent, and his eye shape was very attractive.

Shang Mingbao’s gaze lingered on him involuntarily, but she never got a clear view of his face.

He remained calmly seated, routinely checking the details before the performance, as if the audience below was invisible. His detached, indifferent attitude toward the surroundings was extremely cool.

…Do all drummers look so cool?

Wu Baiyan snapped his fingers twice and said irritably, “Hey hey, are your eyes glued to him?”

Shang Mingbao snapped back to reality and looked away. By some strange impulse, she checked WhatsApp.

Why did she feel her heartbeat quicken? Xiang Feiran might not even be the drummer; he might not even be in the band. He had just stayed temporarily in the band’s rehearsal room. And she had only spent thirty minutes with him there during a hot, power-out summer day. That was all.

However, his prominent Adam’s apple, and the sensual, mature, and familiar way he swallowed as he tilted his head slightly to drink water, were striking.

Sweat was gathering in his palms. Shang Mingbao dared not look back, took a couple of sips of his drink, and felt his ears warming up.

Wu Baiyan also kept his eyes on the drummer for a bit longer. He couldn’t discern much but thought the hands looked quite nice. The build was good, and when he sat there, he seemed to handle everything with a calm and composed demeanor, treating it all as his own stage.

“Not yet, and he’s already showing off?”

Wu Baiyan’s face darkened, his lips pressed together in displeasure. How should he put it? Males naturally have a stronger sense of competition with their own kind. Since the drummer was obviously Asian, his displeasure was amplified.

“They changed drummers. This wasn’t the one last time,” he said nonchalantly, not bothering to look at the performance.

Under the lead of the vocalist, the cheering from the audience diminished, and the lights dimmed to create an atmospheric effect.

The vocalist, holding the microphone stand, smiled and went straight into the opening remarks: “Before we start, our drummer requested a change in the opening song because he wants to dedicate it to a guest in the audience. As you all know, this guy is a mute, so…”

He shrugged: “—Maria, for the guest in the audience.”

The lights dimmed further, and the scene turned into a gray-blue sea. In the stillness of this small sea, Xiang Feiran lifted his drumsticks and tapped them twice.

These two taps seemed to set the tone and determined the rhythm of the entire audience.

After such an indifferent start, a series of passionate guitar sounds began, followed by precise and powerful drumming, directly igniting the climax of the scene.

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