Chapter 7 Remarks

Shang Zhu struggled with insomnia into the late night, and the next morning during a video conference, he spaced out several times. Fortunately, he didn’t need to express any opinions and remained expressionless throughout the meeting, until it adjourned without anyone noticing his poor state today.

An hour-long meeting concluded, and just as Shang Zhu was about to check if Wen Shuyan had sent any messages, executives who were on the business trip with him barged into his office with several employees from the project department.

After dealing with them until noon, Shang Zhu bluntly declined the executives’ invitation and went to the company cafeteria alone.

He hadn’t slept well the previous night and had listened to morning prayers, which had decreased his appetite significantly. After poking at his food for a bit, he returned to his office and sat in his boss’s chair, lost in thought.

He kept track of the time; Wen Shuyan’s flight had already landed, but his phone remained silent. The messages he sent in the morning still hadn’t received a reply.

Perhaps he should give Wen Shuyan a call.

Shang Zhu hesitated while staring at Wen Shuyan’s profile picture. It seemed like Wen Shuyan on the other side of the ocean had heard his thoughts because his phone, which had been bombarded with work messages all morning, suddenly rang with a video call invitation.

Shang Zhu quickly sat up and accepted Wen Shuyan’s video call.

He stared at the screen, and after the video connected, the camera swept over the hotel carpet, shook violently a few times, and then flipped. Wen Shuyan’s face appeared on the screen.

“Shang Zhu,” Wen Shuyan smiled, “what’s with that expression?”

The image from the front camera was somewhat blurry, and Shang Zhu looked at the screen’s Wen Shuyan in a daze, asking, “Have you arrived?”

“I was delayed at customs for a bit, but I just arrived at the hotel,” Wen Shuyan said, placing his phone on the table and taking a few steps back to take off his coat, hanging it on the wardrobe door.

Shang Zhu pursed his lips, his fingertips tracing the slightly warm screen, outlining the curve of Wen Shuyan’s lower back.

Seeing him silent, Wen Shuyan leaned closer to the camera and scrutinized him for a moment before teasing, “Are you still sulking?”

“No,” Shang Zhu shook his head, poking his lips where Wen Shuyan couldn’t see.

“Wife,”

Wen Shuyan was in the process of opening his suitcase when he heard Shang Zhu’s voice, “Hmm? What’s up?”

Shang Zhu curled his finger and gently rubbed against Wen Shuyan’s cheek, “I miss you.”

On the other end, Wen Shuyan had no idea what he had done, and he showed a gentle smile, “I miss you too.”

The air conditioning in the hotel room hummed softly, and a warm yellow desk lamp illuminated the room. Wen Shuyan took out clothes and documents from his suitcase and turned on his computer to check his emails.

“There’s a dinner party tomorrow night, so I might not be able to call you. When I get back, I’ll apply for leave, and we can go on vacation.” Wen Shuyan tilted his head, seeking Shang Zhu’s opinion.

“Okay.”

Shang Zhu couldn’t wait to stick with Wen Shuyan every day, so he had no objections. He even asked about the places they had discussed visiting before during their casual chats, “Should we go to Morocco or Egypt?”

“You decide. I’ll follow your lead,” Wen Shuyan said. “Are you going to the class reunion this time?”

Shang Zhu shook his head, “I don’t want to go if you’re not there.”

“Okay,” Wen Shuyan sighed slightly, feeling helpless. After all, this wasn’t an important event that couldn’t be missed.

As Wen Shuyan organized the files for tomorrow, Shang Zhu remained silent, quietly watching him work.

Wen Shuyan under the lamp was quiet and gentle, enveloped in a soft halo, reminding Shang Zhu of the times they used to stay up late studying together during their university days.

Shang Zhu didn’t want to hang up the call, but even the poor quality of the camera couldn’t hide the fatigue in Wen Shuyan’s eyes.

“Wife,” Shang Zhu called out to him, “Finish your work and rest early.”

Wen Shuyan hesitated for a moment, then set aside the documents in his hand. “Got it. Goodnight.”

Shang Zhu also bid “goodnight” and reluctantly ended the video call under Wen Shuyan’s gentle urging.

Thirty-six minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, a new call record popped up in the conversation window. Though the time wasn’t short, video calls were just a superficial relief, far from enough to ease Shang Zhu’s longing for Wen Shuyan.

He looked out the window at the tip of the Leeds building, letting his thoughts drift with the clouds for a moment before picking up his phone again to update Wen Shuyan’s note.