Chapter 36

“Where isn’t there a Christmas tree?

Liao Yunuo pulled Shang Mingbao under the Christmas tree for a selfie, using two fingers to lift the corners of her mouth upwards and said, ‘Cheese.'”

Even though she thought of “cheese,” the smile on Shang Mingbao’s face remained forced. Liao Yunuo presented her with a carefully chosen Christmas gift and insisted she open it on the spot. Shang Mingbao unwrapped it to find a crown made of laurel leaves, crafted from platinum and gold, which could be separated into a simpler crown and a laurel leaf necklace.

Recently, Liao Yunuo’s family had restricted her spending, so this gift was quite significant for her. She placed it on Shang Mingbao’s head, admired it, and was very pleased: “This will definitely make Wu Baiyan fall for you.”

It’s unclear what Wu Baiyan might have said to her privately, but Liao Yunuo seemed quite eager to joke about them recently.

This was the second Christmas Eve party, held at a famous rooftop bar in the West Village, which was rented out entirely. A disco ball adorned the top of the Christmas tree, spinning and reflecting dazzling light within the glass space.

This party was organized by Liao Yunuo, and she was the host. However, Shang Mingbao knew that Liao Yunuo had been tight on cash lately, so the money behind this event likely came from someone else.

In the venue, Shang Mingbao knew fewer than a handful of people.

Liao Yunuo was a social butterfly and always invited a group of handsome men to her parties: male models from New York’s fashion scene, top university volleyball players, Billboard-charting rap artists, bestselling authors with numerous columns and notable works, among others.

Although Liao Yunuo never formally introduced Shang Mingbao’s background, to these people, she appeared to be a perfect target for admiration and flattery due to her well-bred and visibly innocent demeanor.

In less than an hour since her arrival, Shang Mingbao had been approached by countless men wanting to chat or buy her a drink. These men were very experienced, deliberately moving close to her in the candlelight, speaking in a gravelly voice, and their speech patterns seemed meticulously designed to tease her about being underage, asking to see her ID card, and making comments like, “Otherwise, just looking into your eyes makes me feel guilty.”

Shang Mingbao deliberately indulged in seven drinks until Wu Baiyan arrived from his family dinner and took the eighth drink from her hand.

“Shang Mingbao, Liao Yunuo and her friends are doing drugs, are you interested in trying too?” With a clatter, Wu Baiyan knocked the drink on the coffee table, spilling some of the liquid.

Shang Mingbao supported her temple and closed her heavily made-up eyes slightly: “Don’t really treat me like a child; I can see through these tricks.”

After a while, Wu Baiyan sat down on the black leather sofa beside her and looked at her: “Has Liao Yunuo ever had you try drugs?”

The streets of New York smelled of paper money, urine, and marijuana. Smoking on the streets might incur a fine, but groups of people could be seen using drugs in public. In such an environment, the less determined people were, the more susceptible they were to falling into self-proof traps.

“Isn’t this addictive? No thanks.”

“Come on, you’re being so uncool, just try it.”

Alcohol, lights, atmosphere, the gaze of those around, and the desire to be seen as “cool” at the party—Shang Mingbao took the cigarette with the red star.

She looked at Wu Baiyan for a while.

Yes, Liao Yunuo had encouraged her and said it was nothing serious. But she refused. Liao Yunuo did say, “Don’t be so nervous, just relax.”

However, Shang Mingbao had no interest in proving how cool she was and said calmly, “Sorry, I’m just not that interesting.”

“No.” Shang Mingbao lowered her eyelashes: “She wouldn’t be so clueless.”

She smiled again: “Aren’t you always hanging out with Yunuo? Haven’t you tried everything she has?”

Wu Baiyan did not answer her question but instead poured himself a drink. “Shall I drive you home later?”

“Have you become addicted to sending me home?”

“I haven’t given you your gift yet; I’ll give it to you in the car.” Wu Baiyan lifted his gaze from the cup and asked, “How have you been the past few days?”

Shang Mingbao turned her face away, avoiding his penetrating gaze. “It’s been okay.”

Wu Baiyan asked with a warning tone, “You’re not really thinking of clinging to him even though you know he’s just playing with you, are you? Shang Mingbao, show some of the pride you have in front of me.”

Shang Mingbao tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Her indifferent attitude caused Wu Baiyan to feel a sudden unease. “Speak up.”

“Wasn’t it you and Yuno who suggested it?” Shang Mingbao glanced away. “You said I should distract myself from my depression over Zhong Ping. Initially, you wanted to help me with that, didn’t you?” Her gaze was calm and bright. “So, are you just playing with me?”

Wu Baiyan was surprised by her clear insight, his face showing unexpected bewilderment.

He had indeed deviated from his initial plan.

At first, it was a game with Liao Yuno, setting up that party and fireworks display. He had been indifferent to Shang Mingbao because he had many other options and didn’t need to trouble himself with her. However, during brunch with his mother, Wu’s mother suddenly brought up the topic of marriage, suggesting that while it might be difficult for the Wu family to match up to the Shang family, it wasn’t impossible. Moreover, after Christmas, Shang Yuye and Wen Youyi would visit their youngest daughter, which presented a great opportunity for Wu Baiyan to perform well.

Thus, he needed to quickly close the distance with Shang Mingbao.

Wu Baiyan didn’t care about whom Shang Mingbao dated; after all, it would end eventually. For a man with a 50% chance of reaching the finish line, all he needed to do was wait at the finish line and adjust Shang Mingbao’s path if needed.

But when the object was Xiang Feiran, he felt a subtle dissatisfaction. Simply put, he did not want his future wife to spend the rest of her life clinging to a deep, unforgettable romance with someone else.

Shang Mingbao noticed his shock and awkwardness and smiled. “I need to call my dad, so I’ll excuse myself.”

She got up from the sofa, and her tolerant smile vanished like mist. As she walked through the mingling of people and drinks, she pushed open the balcony door and lit a cigarette in the wind from the city.

To avoid being seen, she deliberately went around the corner, squatting in a corner of the terrace to shield herself from the wind.

After finishing her cigarette, she went back indoors and found a secluded room to call her father, Shang Yuye.

It was already 10 AM in Hong Kong, and Shang Yuye’s car was about to enter the group’s underground parking lot. Upon receiving his youngest daughter’s call, he instructed the driver to stop and took the call at the entrance of the parking lot.

Shang Mingbao’s tone changed from the calm and collected demeanor she had with Wu Baiyan to a bright and lively one. She told her father about what she was currently doing and the $50,000 she had earned from Wendy.

Shang Yuye initially thought she was joking, but as she detailed every aspect clearly, the indulgent smile on his face slowly faded. “So, does that mean I should send you $5 million?”

“Yes,” Shang Mingbao rested her hands on the back of the sofa. “But I’ve decided against it. If Dad can sponsor me to hire a video filming and editing team, I’ll share the profits with you.”

Shang Yuye was almost in disbelief.

It was surprising that his usually extravagant youngest daughter wanted to invite him as an investor and share profits with him.

“So, my precious daughter is now working as a consultant, errand runner, and dog-walker for others?” He sat with his legs crossed, tapping his fingers on his thigh wrapped in his suit pants.

“What can I do…” Shang Mingbao pouted.

“Dad can give you money privately. You used to get $1 million a month, but the master said it was too much. So, $950,000 is still acceptable. Reducing $50,000 isn’t too much.”

Shang Mingbao was speechless.

It was the first time in these past days that she genuinely smiled. “Dad, aren’t you afraid Mom will chase you to the guest bedroom again?”

Shang Yuye coughed into his hand and said coldly, “That won’t happen.”

After hanging up, Shang Yuye transferred the $5 million as promised and left a message telling her that while playing around was acceptable, it was not suitable as a career move for her.

Shang Mingbao finally understood how hard it was to receive a compliment from him. After all, with her brother Shang Lu’s movie winning awards in Berlin, it was seen as just “playing around” rather than a serious career move. Shang Lu’s commercial film had made over a billion in profits…

After the call, Shang Mingbao returned to the party, staring blankly at the Christmas tree adorned with a glowing disco ball.

Xiang Feiran, Merry Christmas.

You didn’t even send me a Merry Christmas.

The bright lights made her eyes sting, and she lowered her head.

With a soft thud, the laurel wreath fell and split into two pieces on the floor.

Shang Mingbao crouched down, picked it up, and her mind flashed back to that summer hiking trip when Xiang Feiran casually braided a crown for her.

He had made it for her while she was resting, standing by the lush, moss-covered stream, breaking off two twigs. Shang Mingbao had played a prank on him, saying, “There’s a snake.”

He had simply responded with an “Hmm,” not even glancing up from his spot.

“Aren’t you afraid?” Shang Mingbao had asked, “What if it bites you?”

“Fake ones don’t move; real ones are safest to stay still,” he had replied calmly, and after a moment, walked over to her and placed the laurel wreath on her head, like a ring.

Shang Mingbao picked up a bright green cricket, saying, “It’s urging you to hurry.”

The cricket jumped on her leg and vanished into the grass.

“Look, follow the car front grass and water mint along the path, and you’ll reach its home.”

“Xiang Feiran…” Shang Mingbao gazed at his profile.

He turned to her, responding with a casual “Hmm.”

“You’re so childish.”

Xiang Feiran chuckled, his gaze fixed on her face like the sunlight filtering through the trees. “Is that so? You’re walking so slowly; I thought you were only five years old.”

He then lifted Shang Mingbao’s backpack as if picking up a rabbit and said coldly, “Let’s go.”

She had never climbed such a beautiful mountain or seen so many charming wildflowers.

She had been crouching for a while and was helped up by Wu Baiyan.

“This Christmas tree is a bit silly,” Shang Mingbao laughed.

Her strange smile made Wu Baiyan hold her wrist firmly. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Shang Mingbao didn’t refuse and obediently got in the car. At the villa’s entrance, he handed her a gift box. “Promise me you’ll open it when you get home.”

Shang Mingbao promised, holding up the corner of her skirt as she left footprints on the snow-covered steps. At the last step, she paused, listening to the Christmas music playing inside and looking at the Christmas tree visible through the window, then hurriedly turned around.

She was walking too fast, and Wu Baiyan’s gift box was left in the glistening snow of the yard.

Taxis were scarce in the Upper East Side. She ran along the main road for a long time, passing by sparkling sidewalk trees, with her feet in thin high heels nearly frozen.

Finally, she managed to hail a cab.

“To West 96th Street,” she gave Xiang Feiran’s apartment address.

By the time she arrived, she was freezing, her body trembling uncontrollably under her coat. She knocked on the door for a long time, thinking the doorbell was broken.

He wasn’t home.

The thought of him celebrating the holiday with others made her feel suffocated. What if someone was confessing their feelings to him right now? What if he was drunk? Was he in a good mood today? Was he still sober? Was someone who had long been familiar to him confessing now, with lots of cheering around, making him consider it?

When she came out of the apartment lobby, she twisted her ankle on the few shallow steps, her lips trembling as she nearly cried. But seeing a bright yellow cab passing by, she raised her hand, “Taxi!”

The sharp pain could be put aside for now.

No phone calls. Not until she reached West 56th Street. If she resisted calling, he wouldn’t accept anyone else’s confession.

At the next corner, there would be a Christmas tree. If there was a Christmas tree, he wouldn’t accept anyone else’s confession.

The next intersection would have a red light. If there was a red light, he wouldn’t accept anyone else’s confession.

The next store, the next store would be a sparkling fashion store—no, she wasn’t confident, she wouldn’t bet on this. This round wasn’t worth betting.

The taxi driver observed her through the rearview mirror, noting the anxious determination on her youthful face.

He didn’t know she was playing a series of mental games with fate.

At the West 56th Street apartment, the doorman was enjoying coffee, fresh gingerbread from the residents, and unwrapping Christmas gifts given by them or pooled together.

Seeing Shang Mingbao, he greeted her cheerfully, “Honestly, miss, you might want to get a fingerprint smart lock so your boyfriend doesn’t have to wait outside for you for five hours.”

Shang Mingbao’s high heels abruptly stopped. Her face, which was a mix of a smile and tears, showed more joy than sadness. “Who waited for me for five hours?”

She misunderstood and, without waiting for the doorman to explain further, rushed into the elevator, pressing the floor buttons frantically.

She thought Xiang Feiran was waiting for her at the door.

When she found out it was all in vain, the smile she had carefully prepared faded.

He hadn’t been waiting at the door. But when did he wait for her for five hours?

Shang Mingbao took out her key to the apartment—one she always kept with her, fearing he might want to see her here at any time.

A shrill whistle pierced through the crowd at the train station. A figure rushed out from the train door, running a few steps before hastily returning—he had forgotten his bag. His hiking backpack was still on the luggage rack.

It contained the Christmas gift he had intended for her, though he felt it was no longer possible to give it.

As the train doors were about to close, the man with the backpack slung over his shoulder stepped out in the last two seconds.

Among the moving crowd and the roaring train, he stood still, bending over, one hand on his knee, panting heavily, his unfocused eyes slowly regaining their clarity.

It was just a hundred meters back and forth, but it felt like a long-distance sprint, and he was filled with dread.

The doorman had finished unwrapping gifts and was organizing the pretty gift boxes and wrapping paper when Xiang Feiran, panting, ran in, saying “Merry—”

He ran too quickly, not intending to stop, but turned around, taking two steps backward, saying “Merry Christmas,” then turned and ran back into the elevator.

The doorman: “…well.”

He shrugged. The young man seemed to have a lot of energy; after all, that backpack didn’t look light.

The number pad was being pressed repeatedly.

One, two, several times.

As the elevator doors opened, his heartbeat accelerated.

Xiang Feiran swallowed, took a deep breath, and commanded himself to calm his racing heart.

“Calm down, Xiang Feiran. Don’t go crazy.”

“She’s only asking you to fix the Christmas tree.”

His palms were sweaty with heat.

As he finally took a step forward, he thought he had prepared himself mentally and kept his expression calm.

He considered whether to step into the hallway for a cigarette to calm down, but he feared she might leave.

He couldn’t risk that cigarette, even if, in the end, she was just asking him to fix the Christmas tree.

The door was ajar, letting in a silver moonlight that reflected off the snow and river, like a thread of fate.

Xiang Feiran quietly pushed the door open.

The apartment was dark, and he saw Shang Mingbao squatting in a corner of the sofa as soon as he walked in.

She wore a pearl-colored wrap dress that shimmered like a mermaid’s tail under the moonlight. The hem of the dress was disheveled on the floor, like a lotus leaf.

She huddled there, small and fragile, like a jellyfish or a snow rabbit.

Xiang Feiran didn’t turn on the light. He walked over and squatted beside her. “What’s broken? Let me see.”

He really saw himself as just there to fix the Christmas tree.

Shang Mingbao shivered slightly, then slowly raised her face to look at him.

The darkness of the room hid her tears from him.

Seeing him put down his hiking backpack, Shang Mingbao asked uncertainly, “Are you going somewhere far?”

“Yes.”

Her heart ached instinctively. She hadn’t realized she had brought him back from his trip, thinking that once the tree was fixed, he would leave.

“It’s broken,” she said, pressing the switch with a child-like tone of complaint. “It’s not lighting up.”

“I’ll check the wiring.” Xiang Feiran went behind the sofa to inspect the socket, suspecting that Shang Mingbao might have made a basic mistake like not plugging in the cord.

“I’ve checked it,” Shang Mingbao said seriously. “I’m not that stupid.”

Xiang Feiran smirked, took a charger from his backpack, and plugged it into the phone’s power source. The lightning symbol didn’t light up.

Shang Mingbao looked at him blankly.

“The socket is broken.”

“…”

Xiang Feiran unplugged the cord and moved it to a nearby socket.

“Try it again.”

Shang Mingbao stayed crouched, unmoving.

If she didn’t press the switch, the tree wouldn’t be fixed. If the tree lit up, maybe he would leave.

Xiang Feiran half-squatted, waiting silently in the dark with her.

“Shang Mingbao,” he finally spoke up, “see if it lights up. If it’s fixed, I’ll have to leave.”

“Do you really have to go?”

“I really have to.”

A sharp pain surged through her, radiating from her heart to her limbs.

“Why? You haven’t wished me a Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Shang Mingbao. May you be happy every day,” Xiang Feiran said calmly.

Shang Mingbao’s tears wet her arm, but she stubbornly held them back. “Is there no Christmas gift?” she asked with forced calm.

“There is. I’ll send it to you when I come back.”

“Not meeting in person to give a gift?”

“If you don’t want to see me, I won’t bother you,” he said, retreating to advance.

Even though he had put down the pen, the exam paper remained in front of him, and the time to answer the questions seemed inexplicably endless—he naturally picked up the pen again, ready to solve the problem and find a definite answer.

Shang Mingbao said, “I want to see you, but you ignore me.”

Xiang Feiran almost laughed in frustration. “Don’t twist things around.”

“By the time you send the gift, Christmas will be over, and the gift will be outdated.”

“A gift doesn’t expire; it’s the same whenever you receive it.” Xiang Feiran remained unmoved by her hints.

Shang Mingbao buried half her face in her arm and said submissively, “Okay.”

Breathing in her scent, Xiang Feiran asked, “Why come here?”

Shang Mingbao’s voice was faint. “To turn on the lights.”

“You don’t live here. What lights? You should be at a lively party.”

Shang Mingbao merely responded with a soft “Hmm,” with no further explanation.

In the silence, Xiang Feiran made a decision and pressed the switch.

With a click, the dark room lit up with the warm glow of the $60 artificial Christmas tree. The light illuminated their faces.

Both were momentarily stunned, as if they hadn’t seen each other in ages and were unprepared for the encounter. Seeing each other suddenly made their hearts race.

Shang Mingbao’s tear-streaked face looked up at him. “Feiran-ge.”

Xiang Feiran raised his hand and gently wiped her tears away, looking both tender and distracted.

No one knew that his other hand was clenched tightly.

“Why did you wait here for me for five hours?” Shang Mingbao asked blankly, “When did this happen?”

Xiang Feiran was taken aback, unsure how she knew about it.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said dismissively.

“I went to find you,” Shang Mingbao said, “but you weren’t home. I knocked for a long time.”

She spoke, confused yet obediently, “I remembered there wasn’t a Christmas tree in your apartment, and there is one here… If you were here…”

Xiang Feiran’s heartbeat quickened uncontrollably. He swallowed hard. “If I were here—then what?”

“Just go,” Shang Mingbao said, blinking and abruptly changing the subject. “You should catch your ride.”
Xiang Feiran suddenly grabbed her wrist and whispered, “Shang Mingbao, finish what you were saying.”

“I won’t.”

Xiang Feiran leaned closer.

Shang Mingbao’s legs stiffened, and as he pressed closer, she fell to the ground. Meeting his intense gaze, her eyes slowly moved from his lips to his eyes as she softly said, “I drank today, a lot. I can’t think clearly, and I can’t speak well. Let’s go, Brother Feiran.”

Xiang Feiran pressed his lips together, his face expressionless as he looked at her with sharp eyes that didn’t waver for a second.

He clearly wanted to kiss her. He was also certain that if he kissed her, she would eagerly respond.

But he let go, stood up, and said, “Alright, have a happy holiday.”

He picked up his backpack without hesitation and walked toward the entrance. Just as he was about to leave the light of the Christmas tree, there was a thud as he dropped the heavy backpack on the ground. He suddenly turned around, pushed the barefoot Shang Mingbao, who had been following him step by step, against the wall.

After staring at her for a moment, he looked into her eyes, firmly grasped her chin, and kissed her.

Shang Mingbao’s skirt trailed on the ground, swaying. He lifted her up, making her sit on his arm, her legs tightly together, her waist held firmly by his hand.

Sure enough, because of her tears, the kiss was salty at first. Her response was clumsy, but gradually, sweetness began to blend into the kiss.

It was terrible—they were breathless from the start.

Xiang Feiran held her waist, his breath hot and erratic. “I told you, either I’m your brother or your boyfriend—there’s no in-between.”

His slightly upturned gaze was dangerously close yet more aggressive than ever. “Only a boyfriend can stay here with you; a brother can’t. Choose.”

Shang Mingbao looked at his face and deliberately said, “Aren’t you catching a train?”

“I got off the train because of you,” Xiang Feiran replied coldly, but his breath was hot and frantic. “You have no reason to come back here. Tell me it was because of me.”

Shang Mingbao lowered her eyelashes, her trembling hand slowly unzipping his jacket inch by inch. “You’re wearing too much, Brother Feiran.”

New York’s winter was too long, and she wanted to see the veins on his arms.

Xiang Feiran’s breath hitched, and in a flash, he became ruthless. The world spun as he pressed her down on the bed.

She had never laid on anyone’s latex mattress before, and the soft ripples made her head spin.

There wasn’t even a blanket here…

Xiang Feiran’s breath was controlled as he stared into her eyes. “Help me take it off.”

Shang Mingbao swallowed, her hand chilled as it slipped under his coat, but he kissed her before she could even get started.

Xiang Feiran bent one knee, leaning over to press her down, his hands gripping her wrists.

His body under the T-shirt was burning hot.

He didn’t dare press down completely, leaving space between their bodies.

It seemed like he wanted to kiss her senseless while she was still tipsy. His hand moved from her wrist to her palm, interlacing their fingers, while the other hand slid down, caressing her neck and collarbone deeply and repeatedly.

It was too dangerous—her dress strap slid off her shoulder, revealing the soft curves that rose and fell with her confused breathing.

Xiang Feiran’s dry palm lingered on her shoulder, and as it moved down, Shang Mingbao slightly lifted her upper body.

He looked into her eyes, the reason in his gaze dissolving like dust.

His hand slipped between the mattress and her back, and when he found the row of clasps, his heart and abdomen tightened simultaneously.

He easily unfastened them.

The tightening in his chest squeezed his breath, and Xiang Feiran leaned close to her ear, holding his breath, asking stubbornly in a low voice, “Tell me, are you clear-headed?”

Shang Mingbao was burning all over. Her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, and she murmured a soft “Mmm” from her nose.

Xiang Feiran kissed her earlobe. “Give me a reason to do this.”

Shang Mingbao trembled, letting out a fragrant sigh, and said with complete clarity, “Boyfriend… I’m still young, you can’t go too far…”

Xiang Feiran wondered if he was hearing things, his heart skipped a beat, but his fingers didn’t hesitate as he pulled down her strap and dress.