Chapter 66

After returning to New York, a few light rains and snowfalls marked the arrival of spring from the frozen ground.

At the beginning of the new semester, Liao Yunuo felt she couldn’t keep track of people.

She and Shang Mingbao used to be so close they might as well have lived together. When Shang Mingbao lived on Fifth Avenue, they often stayed over at each other’s places, going to class together, shopping together, and eating together. In class, Shang Mingbao paid close attention, while Liao Yunuo scouted for handsome guys on Instagram. Group projects and final exams were largely based on financial ability.

But with the start of the new semester, Liao Yunuo felt she saw Shang Mingbao less often.

Of course, signs of this had emerged at the end of the previous semester. Liao Yunuo understood that Shang Mingbao had started dating a guy who lived in the Columbia University circle, which was essentially a long-distance relationship, so weekends were naturally spent together. Additionally, Shang Mingbao was busy with her “High Jewelry Sales Guide” role and had launched a personal video channel, which also consumed a lot of time.

Liao Yunuo understood all this and lazily watched her go through it. Their course schedule wasn’t tight, so even after taking all this into account, they still had plenty of time to hang out. Liao Yunuo just suddenly found it hard to accept that Shang Mingbao was still looking for classes to attend.

“Are you auditing classes again?”

She stopped Shang Mingbao amidst the crowd after class.

It was Wednesday, and they only had morning classes. Liao Yunuo had intended to ask her to go shopping. Her reserved clothes rack at Joysiily was almost collapsing under new arrivals, and the salespeople kept asking her when she’d come to try them on, so she needed to schedule a fitting model in advance.

Recently, Shang Mingbao’s class attendance had become increasingly “sloppy,” carrying everything in a canvas bag. The jewelry design class was in another building, requiring her to cross two traffic lights. As she rummaged for her phone in the canvas bag, she asked, “Do you want to come along?”

Liao Yunuo’s expression was uncomfortable. “No, I’m already bored with my own classes, let alone attending classes from other majors.”

Shang Mingbao didn’t persuade her further and hurried away. “Then I’ll go first; I’m going to be late.”

“Hey—”

Liao Yunuo couldn’t catch her, and she watched as Shang Mingbao skillfully wove through the crowd, repeatedly saying “excuse me,” and soon disappeared from view.

Today’s lecturer was Shena, the Creative Director of Valeridge Jewelry. With her reputation, the lecture hall was packed. Shang Mingbao arrived late and stood at the back of the classroom, listening for an hour. As Shena spoke, she used her textbook as a makeshift board and took quick notes on a blank sheet of paper.

After the lecture, many students surrounded her for quite a while until the bell for the next period rang.

Shang Mingbao had intended to leave, but Shena’s assistant asked her to wait. A few minutes later, Shena finally emerged and greeted her, “I was surprised to see you in the last row of the classroom.”

Shang Mingbao was a major client of the brand. She and her mother had visited Valeridge’s high jewelry workshop many times to select gemstones or make design requests. Shena, the Creative Director, couldn’t possibly not recognize her.

“I have a bit of interest in jewelry design,” Shang Mingbao admitted.

Shena raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Not sure yet.”

She had been auditing classes for three weeks, not selecting specific courses or lecturers, just attending any that fit her schedule to see if she could follow along and whether she liked them.

Jewelry design is not just a game of stringing beads with a bit of interest and drawing skills. Shena, who came from a family with a jewelry workshop in a small German town and had studied the craft formally, was slightly amused by Shang Mingbao’s statement. It seemed like another whim of a wealthy young lady, akin to a little girl declaring an interest in fashion design because she enjoyed sewing a bridal veil for her Barbie doll.

“I saw an amber flower watch in the workshop yesterday, and I heard it’s yours.”

Walking down the corridor with Shena’s assistant escorting them, Shena chatted with Shang Mingbao.

“It’s mine.”

Shena wasn’t fond of amber, finding it visually too delicate and with little room for manipulation. She had paused to look at the amber on the artisan’s workbench and, upon learning it was Shang Mingbao’s order, had asked the craftsman who had provided the design drawings.

The answer surprised her greatly. Amber had been in the high jewelry workshop for some time. Initially, Shang Mingbao had asked the brand to provide several design drafts. Because her mother held a prominent position and was well-known in the high jewelry community, the designers didn’t dare slack off. However, after being dissatisfied with the drafts, Shang Mingbao had personally drawn the design, selected the materials, and specified the craftsmanship and gemstones.

From the perspective of other artisans and designers, every gemstone she chose was worth more than the amber. Shena had received the hand-painted design draft from Shang Mingbao yesterday and had spent some time silently stroking the paper without saying a word.

“I like your approach; it’s exceptionally romantic,” Shena said to Shang Mingbao. As a stern woman who was neither servile nor arrogant towards her major clients, she added, “It’s completely your own idea, has it not been discussed with anyone else?”

Shang Mingbao nodded.

“Congratulations,” Shena said, changing her opinion of this wealthy young lady. She took out a card from her bag, which had an address written on it. “This is my private studio.”

Having been the Creative Director of Valeridge’s jewelry line for over ten years, Shena was one of the industry’s longest-serving jewelry creative directors. She also launched her own eponymous independent brand with investment from Valeridge’s shareholders.

Shang Mingbao took the card and carefully slipped it into her textbook.

“The jewelry design classroom isn’t just in the pile of gemstones and paintbrushes; it’s also in the workshop and on the metalwork bench. If you’re interested, we could play with those beautiful stones.” Shena patted her shoulder and smiled. “But your drawing skills are really lacking.”

Shang Mingbao: “……”

Shena, with a hint of a smile, said, “Find a teacher to improve them.”

From then on, Shang Mingbao spent half a day every weekend interning at Shena’s studio.

Shena’s brother, who also worked in Pforzheim, Germany, had come to New York to help her. According to Shena, he was the most solid jewelry craftsman in the world. Shang Mingbao learned from him, starting with the oldest wax carving techniques and occasionally working with Shena in the gemstone department, helping select suitable main stones with the right cut and color for new designs.

Shena would play games with her, asking her to sort gemstones into color temperature spectra. It turned out Shang Mingbao had an extraordinary talent for color and could quickly and accurately judge the colors of these stones.

As a top luxury brand’s jewelry creative director, Shena’s work was more focused on high-level design, fashion trends, and resource management, and she hadn’t delved into the workshop for a long time. Shang Mingbao didn’t investigate whether Shena’s enthusiasm was due to the pressure from poor sales of Valeridge’s new jewelry collection, but it did lead Wen Youyi to buy over 50 million worth of collectibles at their spring-summer exhibition.

Wen Youyi knew what she was doing. While teasing her about the expensive tuition, he also made a rare trip to Beijing to attend a Valeridge dinner.

That night was star-studded, with celebrities showcasing jewelry trending on social media. But Wen Youyi only sought out Shena to thank her for taking care of his daughter. Thanks to her, the internal conflict at the brand settled, and Shena won, renewing her contract with the host Valeridge for another two years.

Wen Youyi also followed Shang Mingbao’s Instagram account dedicated to gemstones. Although the account had consistently low traffic, each video was detailed and comprehensive. Shang Mingbao wasn’t aiming for fame; the account was just a window for her clients to see her professionalism and working style. Occasionally, passersby would be dazzled by the luxury gems.

Spring was also the peak season for academic conferences.

Before his degree defense, Xiang Feiran attended the final conference of his doctoral career, sharing his research on the Miocene geologic and paleoclimate changes driving the explosion of Gentianaceae species at a symposium on plant evolutionary taxonomy, and presented new research ideas on the topic.

After the lecture, during the routine Q&A session, a middle-aged man in the last row of the conference hall stood up and took the microphone from the staff.

Wearing formal attire, Xiang Feiran didn’t recognize him at first, but once he did, his hand faltered slightly while sealing his thermos, and his expression turned emotionless.

The hall was silent.

Bassist: “Dr. Xiang’s language skills are truly refreshing.”

Xiang Feiran: “……”

When the issue came to light, he calmly answered the questions posed and, while trying to leave after the session, was stopped in his tracks.

Bassist: “…”

Xiang Feiran: “…”

Bassist: “I’m pretty sure your mute act isn’t going to work now.”

Xiang Feiran lightly tilted his chin, indicating his suit: “Nice suits.”

As soon as he spoke, the bassist, with his hands on his head and eyes wide, was in shock. What? It’s really him! Dressed in a custom suit, wearing a tie, standing on stage sharing academic achievements with clear thoughts and concise, powerful, accurate language! Not only is he not mute, but he isn’t even stuttering!!! If it weren’t for that cold, annoying coolness—something the whole world couldn’t replicate—he’d rather gouge out his own eyes than believe this is really their drummer.

The bassist, a nearly fifty-year-old middle-aged white man—who had lived a life of luxury and whose greatest trauma was his mother shaving his poodle when he was seven without asking him—was completely broken in front of Xiang Feiran: “Holy shit!” His eyes were red, tears almost rolling out, “Holy shit…holy shit! Holy mother fucking shit!”

Having created this trouble himself, Xiang Feiran had to politely refuse a few professors who came to discuss topics with him. He spent a whole hour comforting the bassist at the coffee break, until his excitement faded back to his hairline.

After leaving the conference hotel, it was already dusk. Xiang Feiran let out a deep breath. His suit was covered by a windproof layer without lining, and he bit down on a cigarette.

After a while, a black Bentley drove into the roundabout. The silver rims stopped spinning, and Shang Mingbao, wearing knee-high boots, got out of the driver’s seat and moved to the passenger seat.

Xiang Feiran opened the back door, tossed his work backpack inside, and then sat in the driver’s seat. Before buckling his seatbelt, he leaned over and gave Shang Mingbao a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“Was it smooth?” Shang Mingbao asked.

Xiang Feiran’s smile carried self-deprecation and a sigh: “Very smooth, except for the person who stood up during the Q&A session was Thomas.”

“Thomas?” Shang Mingbao blinked: “The bassist? Isn’t he studying music and veterinary medicine?”

“Yes, but now he wants to study botany and is pursuing his third master’s degree. This is his first botany academic conference.”

Shang Mingbao: “…”

They drove back to the apartment on West 56th Street.

The snowman-shaped ducklings Shang Mingbao had preserved in the freezer had been well-kept until a power outage a few days ago melted them into a puddle.

Shang Mingbao was very upset for a long time, but by late April in New York, there was no snow left. Even if there was snow, it wasn’t the little ducklings she had saved from Christmas.

They regularly stayed here on weekends, and on weekday evenings, Xiang Feiran would sometimes visit her at New York University, or she would go to 21N downtown to wait for him to finish performing.

They first undressed when they came in.

Xiang Feiran hung up his windbreaker in the foyer, and as he was about to take off his suit, Shang Mingbao came close. She looked into his eyes and slowly unfastened a button on his suit, her palm gliding up from his shirt to his shoulder.

Xiang Feiran’s expression remained unchanged, and he lowered his voice: “What do you want?”

Shang Mingbao pressed her lips together and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. Xiang Feiran forcefully bent down, wrapping one arm around her waist and using his other hand to deftly remove his tie.

Although they had done everything that needed to be done in Hong Kong, in the more than a month since New York, they had only been intimate a few times, and then they stopped.

On weekends, they watched movies, drank, or quietly worked on their desks, then cuddled up to sleep.

Certain risky actions were unavoidable. Since they had already reached the final step, when they returned to those edge behaviors, he became more assertive and skillful, no longer polite or reserved. But he always managed to hold back on the final step.

Because he didn’t want to hurt her.

Despite being extremely gentle and patient, and a lengthy prelude, Shang Mingbao still gasped in pain each time. Continuing with it, both enjoyed it, but the next day, she would have varying degrees of inflammation. Xiang Feiran couldn’t bear to see that. Unable to downgrade the hardware conditions, he had to command himself to endure.

Tonight was no different.

When he held her up to his face, Shang Mingbao struggled in a panic. After a while, her strength waned, and she couldn’t support herself, relying entirely on his strong arms.

The turning point in things probably came on the day Xiang Feiran defended his doctoral thesis in May.

The defense went smoothly, and he was calm about the celebrations afterward. His colleagues, wanting to celebrate with him, arranged a dinner at their usual Spanish restaurant. During the meal, they had two bottles of red wine and several bottles of champagne. By the time Shang Mingbao joined him after finishing her work, Xiang Feiran’s eyes had taken on a distant, profound color.

He was drunk but clear-headed.

The driver took them back to the apartment on 56th Street and, following Shang Mingbao’s orders, bought hangover medicine and water. When he returned, his young lady couldn’t come out to open the door and only managed to keep up a normal tone to ask him to leave the items at the door.

She was pinned against the door and wall by Xiang Feiran, with her neck being scented.

The peach-scented perfume was too girlish; she only wore it when she saw him.

By May, New York had completely warmed up. When he carried her to the bed, she had little left on, while he was still dressed in his suit—worn to respect the defense committee.

Xiang Feiran kissed her vigorously that night, leaving faint red marks, and repeatedly kissed a certain spot, glistening with a pinkish glow. Afterwards, he lifted her and pressed her against the wardrobe in the bedroom, asking clearly, “The pajamas your friend gave you, where are they?”

Shang Mingbao’s mind went blank.

The butterfly pajamas Liao Yunuo gave her had been lying quietly in the drawer with the lingerie, often seen but never worn. She had thought about wearing them but felt that since Xiang Feiran had endured so much for her, it might be a bit inhumane to wear them and tempt him…

The drawer slides out with a smooth, frictional sound.

Xiang Feiran appeared completely sober, as he precisely extracted the butterfly-patterned, cool, environmentally friendly nightgown from a stack of intimate clothing.

It was too short—the hem of the dress slid gently down from his arm, reaching only from his wrist to midway up his forearm.

Shang Mingbao’s eyes widened. Unable to move, she heard Xiang Feiran’s clear, sober voice in her ear say, “Put it on.”