Chapter 5

Before attending the concert, Song Wei met up with Zhu Qingfei.

Zhu Qingfei, ever curious, jumped straight to the topic. “How did the blind date go?” she asked eagerly.

Song Wei didn’t hide anything and replied simply, “I think I’ll get to know him better. He seems decent.”

Zhu Qingfei leaned in, scrutinizing her expression but unable to discern much. “Weiwei, don’t lie to me. You’re not someone who compromises easily.”

The two had known each other since elementary school, and no one understood Song Wei better than Zhu Qingfei.

The Song family was well-read and cultured. Though her parents were strict, they treated her like a little princess. With a privileged upbringing, good looks, and excellent grades, Song Wei naturally carried a hint of pride.

When she left her parents’ shelter to study and work on her own, every time Zhu Qingfei called, Song Wei was either studying or working overtime, brimming with seemingly inexhaustible energy.

Though outwardly soft-spoken and agreeable, she had a resilient and proud core that didn’t bow easily. Now, seeing a trace of disappointment in her friend’s expression, Zhu Qingfei could tell it wasn’t just because of the blind date. She lowered her voice and said, “Still struggling? Getting laid off wasn’t your fault. Stop blaming yourself.”

Song Wei had never opened up to anyone about it. Her parents, Song Gaoyi and Yang Yingqiu, couldn’t possibly understand how she felt; they likely saw her return home as a good thing.

These past few days, no one had brought it up. The quiet routine made it seem as though nothing had happened.

But facing her close friend’s concern, Song Wei finally couldn’t hold it in. “I know, but I can’t help wondering… if I were stronger, would I have avoided being laid off?”

Zhu Qingfei hadn’t been laid off herself, but she’d seen friends and colleagues experience it over the years. She offered comfort: “Have you considered that layoffs aren’t just about job performance?”

Of course, Song Wei understood.

Before the news of layoffs came, her direct supervisor had promised her a product manager position—a reward for four years of hard work. She thought her future looked bright. But then, the layoffs hit without warning.

Her downfall wasn’t due to incompetence. It was her lack of savvy, her misplaced confidence that merit alone would secure her place. In the end, those who stayed were the ones with closer ties to senior leadership, even if they were less capable.

Unable to navigate office politics, she was ruthlessly sidelined.

A week before returning home, she cut off all social interactions, confined herself to her small rented apartment, and slept endlessly. Yet, the more she slept, the more exhausted she felt—and the harder it became to sleep. Realizing her state was eating away at her mind and body, she decided to leave.

Over the past few days, she had begun to see things more clearly. Accepting her aunt’s matchmaking arrangements was her way of giving herself something to focus on—a distraction and an emotional outlet.

But she had never intended to settle for anything less in her marriage. She wouldn’t repeat her parents’ mistakes. Whether dating or marrying, she hoped her partner would genuinely care for her—not just go through the motions of companionship, tied together by a mere relationship while living separate lives.

Zhu Qingfei shared her sentiment. “You should find something to do. If you think your blind date seems okay, why not give it a shot? Date him.” She raised her eyebrows. “Didn’t you say he’s good-looking?”

Song Wei smiled faintly. “Is being handsome enough?”

“What else do you need?”

Song Wei replied, “If I decide to be with someone, it won’t be for that reason.”

“Tsk, so I’m the shallow one here?” Zhu Qingfei teased, noting her serious expression. “Wait, are you serious about this? Are you longing for love?”

Song Wei didn’t respond.

Zhu Qingfei shook her head. “In this day and age, who even believes in love that resonates deeply anymore?”

Lowering her gaze, Song Wei traced the condensation on her glass. “Even so, I don’t want to settle.”

If pure love was unattainable, there should at least be mutual appreciation and shared expectations. And if all else failed, at the very least, the relationship should be comfortable, built on mutual understanding and tolerance.

Zhu Qingfei’s tone turned playful. “Oh my, have you actually fallen for him?”

Song Wei froze and stiffly retorted, “No way.”

“Then why’d you agree to go to a concert with him? You know that’s a pretty intimate thing for two people to do, right?”

“I… I didn’t think about it that way.”

“Tsk, tsk. Well, I wish you success.”

“…”

They clinked glasses. As the singer in the bar began performing a soulful ballad, the atmosphere deepened.

The conversation shifted. Zhu Qingfei asked, “So, what’s your plan now? Are you going back to the capital?”

Song Wei hesitated, sipping her low-alcohol cocktail. “Not for now. I’ll see if there’s any suitable work here.”

Zhu Qingfei’s eyes lit up. “Come to my company! We’re hiring a product manager.”

“Which company?” It wasn’t that Song Wei didn’t care about her friend’s job. It was just that Zhu Qingfei changed jobs so frequently—about once every six months—that she couldn’t keep track.

“Guangnian Technology. It’s one of Nan’an City’s key supported companies in recent years.”

“What do they do?”

“Virtual reality technology and products. Last year, we ranked in the nation’s top 50 VR companies. The company’s just like our boss…” Zhu Qingfei raised an eyebrow, brimming with pride. “Hot stuff!”

Song Wei chuckled. “Are you praising the company or your boss?”

“Both! Our boss is young and brilliant. The company’s current success is all thanks to his efforts. He’s South City’s real-life eligible bachelor.”

The term “eligible bachelor” usually described accomplished, unmarried men in their thirties or forties. Song Wei didn’t overthink it and casually replied, “Sounds impressive.”

“Of course,” Zhu Qingfei continued, getting back to the main point. “Weiwei, even though we’re not as big as the firm you worked for before, our company is genuinely great. The team’s young, the management style is modern, and the perks are fantastic. Basically, if you’re talented, you’ll shine here.”

“I have a strong feeling our company will go public one day. We might even make a name for ourselves internationally.” Zhu Qingfei looked at her meaningfully. “So, if you join us, you’ll be like one of the founding generals helping an emperor conquer the world!”

Though her words were exaggerated, Song Wei found herself slightly tempted. However, she hesitated. “I was just a senior specialist before. You’re hiring a manager.”

“Minor detail. You’d do great as a manager here.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Let me know if you’re sending a résumé. I’ll give HR a heads-up.”

“Okay.”

Before going to bed, Song Wei searched for this company on a job site and explored its website. As Zhu Qingfei mentioned, a company named Guangnian Technology was indeed an up-and-coming star in the industry, attracting significant attention.

Recent news revealed that Guangnian Technology had just completed its Series C funding round, with its market share increasing rapidly. Many believed it was only a matter of time before it became the industry’s leader.

Nan’an City, the national hub for the virtual reality industry, hosts the annual World VR Industry Conference, earning its title as the VR Capital. Song Wei noted that Guangnian Technology was established in 2017, coinciding with the boom of virtual reality the previous year.

The company’s core products focused on technical services, VR/AR/XR hardware, and AI development and applications—a wide range of offerings. Opportunities in the capital market are not uncommon, but exceptional timing is rare. Song Wei trusted Zhu Qingfei’s assertion that her boss had a keen sense of foresight.

On the recruitment app, Guangnian Technology’s product manager role involved a complex range of responsibilities. Though she had worked on tech products at her previous job, switching industries felt somewhat challenging.

She browsed job listings from other companies to assess her options but decided against submitting any applications for now.

“Let me take a break first,” she thought. She hadn’t even used her last annual leave day before leaving her job—it felt like a loss just thinking about it.

…

The concert was scheduled for Saturday. It featured a group that was wildly popular nationwide. According to Zhu Qingfei, the tickets were incredibly hard to come by, especially for their front-row seats in the inner area. These tickets were likely complimentary.

Song Wei wasn’t particularly excited, as she wasn’t a fan of concerts. Besides, her purpose that day wasn’t just to attend the performance.

On Saturday noon, a courier contacted her to deliver the packages she had sent from the capital.

Having lived in the capital for seven or eight years, both studying and working, her belongings filled a small delivery truck—seven large items in total.

Initially, she thought the delivery wouldn’t arrive until the next day. She had planned with Song Gaoyi to handle it together then. However, he went to work at the research institute as usual, and Yang Yingqiu was away on a business trip over the weekend.

She asked the courier about delivery arrangements and was relieved to hear they could bring the items upstairs.

Still worried about delays affecting her plans, she messaged Chen Jubai, explaining the situation and her commitment to arriving on time, even if not early.

Chen Jubai called her directly, asking if she needed help. Remembering how it had taken her and three colleagues an entire afternoon to load the items onto the truck, she accepted his offer.

Chen arrived faster than the courier. Awkwardness lingered between them as he handed her a gift. “I thought your parents would be home, so I brought a small present,” he explained.

Song Wei stepped aside to let him in. “They’re not home, and I already owe you for coming to help. You shouldn’t have brought a gift. You can take it back later.”

“It’s just tea, nothing much,” he replied casually.

She didn’t argue further, leading him to the sofa and pouring a glass of water. “Have a seat. The courier should be here soon.”

“Alright,” he nodded, his gaze taking in the new environment.

The room was clean and orderly. Opposite the sofa was not a television but a wall-sized bookshelf packed with books and shelves full of trophies and certificates. The display seemed to be more of an afterthought, as if the homeowner didn’t care much for the accolades.

Chen Jubai recalled what Chen Yun had said about the Song family—intellectuals through and through. Song Wei’s father was a prominent researcher at the National Physics Institute, her mother a high school vice principal. Even the elder generation was well-educated, making them a quintessential scholarly family.

If he weren’t financially well-off, it would’ve been impossible for him to even meet her through matchmaking.

Noticing his gaze, Song Wei explained, “Most of these books are my parents’. They’re just here for display now.”

“Do you enjoy reading?” he asked.

“Sort of,” she replied with a smile. “When I was young, my parents were strict. They didn’t let me use a phone, so I turned to books for entertainment.”

Before the age of ten, her family had lived in a modest two-bedroom apartment near Nan’an High School. Their living room, much like now, had no television and no sofa—just a bookshelf and a long table. All their family activities revolved around that table.

Back then, Yang Yingqiu and Song Gaoyi had been on good terms. Whoever was free would accompany her to study or read. Song Wei’s reading interests had steadily advanced, from popular science to philosophy and astronomy, with her parents providing explanations and discussions along the way.

This foundation made academic success effortless for her—topping the class was second nature.

Chen Jubai observing her relaxed demeanor, couldn’t help but recall the times he’d heard about her during school: “Song Wei from Class 1 scored first in the city for the high school entrance exams,” “Song Wei got into IMO (International Mathematical Olympiad),” “Song Wei won first place in the English speech contest.”

Snapping out of his thoughts, he asked, “Did you actually enjoy studying?”

Song Wei seemed amused, her brows arching playfully. “Who likes studying? It’s the thing I hate most. What about you—did you like it?”

Chen chuckled. “Not at all, but I had no choice.”

“Exactly, we’re all the same,” she replied, glancing at the wall of books. “Reading has two dimensions. I prefer pure reading, immersing myself for personal enjoyment. Through words, I connect with different minds and worlds, experiencing boundless imagination. That’s a joy.”

As she spoke, a small kitten waddled out, stumbling its way toward her feet. She scooped it onto her lap, scratching its chin. The kitten tilted its head back contentedly, eyes closed.

“Did you come out because you’re hungry?” she murmured softly, a tender tone in her voice as her fingers brushed its fur.

Chen Jubai’s eyes lingered on her face, noticing the faint dimples on her cheeks.

The girl spoke softly, her gaze clear and her smile pure, a blend of gentleness and strength. He thought perhaps the phrase “a beauty like jade” should carry another meaning entirely.

From the cabinet beneath the sofa, Song Wei retrieved some kitten food. She poured a small amount into her palm, and Snowflake, the kitten, adeptly perched on her hand to eat.

Noticing his gaze, Song Wei turned to ask, “Xiaoyu said you’re a cat expert. Do you have a kitten at home too?”

Chen Jubai paused briefly, then understood and replied with a faint smile, “No, it’s Xiaoyu who has two cats. She calls them Da Pang and Xiao Pang.”

“Da Pang and Xiao Pang? That’s such an adorable name.” Song Wei smiled faintly. “Our cat is called Snowflake because I found her on a snowy day.”

“I know,” he said.

“When I first found her, she was so small and thin. After just a few days of care, she’s already grown plump. Snowflake’s a tough little survivor.” Song Wei stroked the kitten’s head and spoke to it, “In a couple of days, we’ll go get your vaccinations. You’ll grow up healthy and strong, okay?”

Song Wei seemed entirely at ease talking about her kitten and began to share more without realizing it. “Actually, I used to have a cat—a British Shorthair. But back then, no one was home often. One day it ran out and never came back. Xiaoyu once said Snowflake and I were destined to meet. I think there’s some truth to that—how else would I have been the one to save her?”

“Keeping pets can be a hassle, but it’s also very rewarding,” she said, turning to him with a gentle smile. “Don’t you think so?”

When Snowflake first came home, she would obediently curl up in her little bed. But over the past couple of days, Song Wei would wake up to find the kitten sprawled boldly across her blanket, lying on its back with no care in the world, as if it were the true master of the house.

Having Snowflake gave Song Wei something to care for, making her time alone at home much less lonely. The kitten’s playful antics often left her with no time for idle thoughts.

Chen Jubai, on the other hand, had never kept a pet. During school, he lacked the environment and energy, and now with work, he barely had time for himself, let alone another living being. Eating and sleeping were already challenges, so caring for a pet felt out of reach.

Xiaoyu’s two cats, Da Pang and Xiao Pang, were timid and avoided strangers. Chen Jubai didn’t have the patience to coax or play with them, so they weren’t close to him. The cats would scatter the moment they saw him.

Until today, he hadn’t understood the joy of keeping pets. But now, he thought perhaps it truly was something that brought happiness.

Snowflake had finished her food and needed water. Song Wei placed her on the sofa and said, “Keep an eye on her for me. I’ll go pour some water.”

The little kitten, now brimming with energy after her meal, immediately began mewing at the only other living being in the room as soon as Song Wei walked away.

Chen Jubai froze.

After hesitating for about seven or eight seconds, he cautiously extended his hand.

Unlike the timid Dad Pang and Xiao Pang, Snowflake had no fear of strangers. With surprising agility, she leapt onto the man’s chest.

Caught off guard by the kitten’s strength, Chen Jubai leaned back slightly.

The tiny creature was light and soft in his hands, and he stiffened, not daring to move.

But Snowflake wasn’t satisfied with just being held. Her tiny paws began climbing up his shirt as she let out a contented “meow~.”

Her head bumped against his chin, and she started nuzzling it persistently. Her bold antics left him utterly defenseless, allowing her to roam up and down his body at will.

Song Wei had already poured the water but stopped in her tracks when she saw the scene. She stifled her laughter as she watched.

After a while, she heard a restrained and helpless voice. “Snowflake!”

Realizing the situation, Song Wei quickly walked over and scooped up the kitten.

“Well, aren’t you bold, little one?” she said with amusement. “You dare to climb anywhere.”