Chapter 7

In an instant, Cheng Qian’s mind was flooded with memories of the letters he had exchanged with Zheng Xiaorou over the past few years.

He remembered the overwhelming joy of receiving her first letter.

The frozen landscape of the Songhua River, locked under a thousand miles of ice, suddenly seemed to thaw, and he could see the vibrant energy of spring.

He had cried on the spot, recalling the long, desolate winters in the North.

Her descriptions of the warm, perpetual spring in Yunnan warmed his heart. She had been the only bright spot in his years of being sent to the countryside.

He also recalled the inner conflict he felt the last time she came to see him.

On one side, there was his mother’s stern disapproval:

“Cheng Qian, my son’s wife, must be pure and proper. If your sister’s classmate’s statement is true, I won’t agree!”

His sister, Cheng Jiao, chimed in to support their mother. “Brother, you’ve been out in the countryside too long. You’re seeing every sow as the beauty Diao Chan! You should meet more girls. That classmate I introduced to you is really nice, and her family plans to send her to college!”

On the other side, Cheng Qian remembered the vows he had written in his letters, swearing undying devotion to Zheng Xiaorou.

When he wrote, “I want to spend my life with you, and I will never waver in this resolve.” He had meant it.

He had truly imagined growing old with Zheng Xiaorou.

Her delicate face in the graduation photo was etched into his mind—he had looked at it so many times that he could even trace it with his eyes closed.

But how could he bear it? Knowing that while she was writing to him, she had been living with another man.

She was his entire youth.

How could he possibly forget her?

Even when he was introduced to other women, he couldn’t help but compare them to Zheng Xiaorou.

When eating with others, he would think, would Xiaorou like this?

She had written that in Haishi, she preferred lighter food. Still, after living in Yunnan, she had begun to develop a taste for spicy dishes.

Because of his job, Cheng Qian watched movies every day, and he often wondered if Xiaorou would enjoy this.

She had written in her letters that the happiest times during her years in the countryside were when the film team came to show outdoor movies.

—o—o—o—

By the time Cheng Qian snapped out of his thoughts, he had already set down the film reels.

He hastily said to his colleague, “If my mentor asks, tell him I have something urgent to handle and went downstairs. I’ll finish the sorting when I get back!”

With that, he pushed open the door and rushed out, disappearing in an instant.

“What’s he in such a hurry for?”

His colleague muttered in annoyance as he picked up the unfinished sorting. With a sneer, he scoffed, “So-called connections, and this is what they can manage? Took him forever, and still didn’t get it right. Pfft…”

Cheng Qian, breathless, dashed to the neighboring publishing house, only to be stopped at the entrance by the guard. “Where do you think you’re going? Can’t you see there’s restricted area signage here?”

Cheng Qian’s mouth went dry with nerves. Of course, he knew this was the publishing house, and it was directly under the Ministry of Culture and Tourism. The positions here were prestigious and respectable.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I work at the Shuntai Cinema next door. I think I just saw someone I know go in,” he stammered, reluctantly swallowing the word “friend” and settling for “someone I know.”

The guard eyed him skeptically, noting his disheveled, frantic appearance, and clicked his tongue. “What’s the name?”

“Zheng Xiaorou.” Cheng Qian replied, feeling extremely tense. He hoped it was really her, but at the same time, he feared he had mistaken someone else for her—it would be so embarrassing.

To his surprise, the guard’s face relaxed when he heard the name. Waving his hand dismissively, he said, “She’s one of our new employees. Want me to call her for you?”

It was her, after all.

But how had she managed to get such a connection at the Ministry of Culture and Tourism?

Could it be that she had deliberately kept this from him?

Cheng Qian’s mind was in turmoil.

Seeing him standing there in a daze, the guard took it upon himself to pick up the phone in the booth and dial a number. “Hello, Proofreading Department? There’s a young man outside looking for Zheng Xiaorou. Yeah, can you ask if she has time to see him?”

—o—o—o—

On the other end.

Zheng Xiaorou’s supervisor held the receiver, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Xiao Zheng, there’s a young man here to see you.”

The only “young man” who knew she worked here was probably Lu Yongzhang, but why would he come over suddenly?

His workplace wasn’t close at all.

Zheng Xiaorou had an instinctive feeling that this didn’t seem like something Lu Yongzhang would do, but she couldn’t think of any other possibilities. Hesitant, she said, “I’ve just started proofreading, maybe I should—”

But the supervisor had already given the guard an answer. “She’ll be right out,” she replied and hung up.

Her expression was a little peculiar as she added, “Go ahead, Xiao Zheng. Our work environment is quite accommodating. It’s not like you can’t see someone during work hours.”

As soon as she said this, everyone in the office lifted their heads from their desks and glanced over at her.

Zheng Xiaorou found the comment a bit odd, but she thanked her supervisor and walked out.

As soon as she stepped outside and saw Cheng Qian standing by the entrance, her footsteps froze in place.

Since their last meeting had ended so miserably, Zheng Xiaorou hadn’t thought about Cheng Qian at all. It was as if her mind had a self-defense mechanism that filtered out anything that could trigger unwanted memories.

But seeing him now, she realized that it wasn’t that she hadn’t thought of him—it was that she simply didn’t have deep feelings for him in the first place.

“Xiaorou!” Cheng Qian took a few steps toward her—concern written on his face. He couldn’t help but let his eyes drift over her face and figure.

Her long black hair was tied into a ponytail at the back of her head, her bangs pinned up, revealing her bright, striking features. She was so beautiful that it was hard to look directly at her.

She wore a long-sleeved shirt with lapels, a common style seen everywhere, yet it somehow looked more fashionable on her. Though the shirt was loose around the waist, it was still obvious that she had a slender figure beneath.

Cheng Qian’s throat felt dry. “You work here? How… how have you been?”

Zheng Xiaorou had assumed their last meeting would be the final time they spoke in private.

She thought the only chance of seeing him again would be at a mutual friend’s wedding or some other distant occasion.

Caught off guard, she instinctively took a step back, her expression wary as she asked, “How did you know I worked here?”

Seeing her cold and guarded expression, Cheng Qian felt a bitter ache in his heart. “I work next door at the cinema. I saw you coming in and thought I’d take a chance. I didn’t expect it to really be you.”

He glanced at the black-and-white sign at the entrance of her workplace. “This is a really good unit.”

“Yes,” Zheng Xiaorou said indifferently, “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading in.”

Cheng Qian was silent for a moment, his voice somewhat strained as he said, “No matter what, we’re still classmates. We can still be friends, right?”

“Of course, we’re classmates. Don’t overthink it. Goodbye!”

Those words brought Cheng Qian a sense of satisfaction, but at the same time, he couldn’t quite understand why he also felt a twinge of sorrow.

Wasn’t it he who had rejected her in the first place?

After their last meeting, she had disposed of the letters Cheng Qian had written to her over the past few years. But before doing so, she went through a few that she had always considered to be “love letters.”

After reading them, she realized Cheng Qian hadn’t been wrong. What they had between them could hardly be considered a “relationship.”

It was nothing more than sharing bits of their lives and talking about missing home.

Even the occasional expressions of affection felt shallow—nothing like Lu Yongzhang, who had shown decisiveness and a clear attitude.

He made sure to find a powerful matchmaker, had his parents step in to ease her family’s concerns, and even offered her numerous tickets as promised, not to mention securing her that job…

Now, “that” was a “relationship.”

Lu Yongzhang played the part perfectly.

Thinking of this, Zheng Xiaorou’s face stiffened. She turned quickly and said, “I have to get to work. Goodbye.”

After turning around, Zheng Xiaorou lowered her head in frustration and rubbed her nose.

Only after thinking about it did she realize how much Lu Yongzhang had quietly done for her.

When she recalled how Father Lu’s eyes sparkled more and more each time he mentioned Lu Yongzhang, she started to feel uneasy about how this would all end.

There was always a tiny voice in the back of her mind reminding her that anything that didn’t belong to her would eventually have to be returned.

She smiled bitterly to herself.

Of course, she wasn’t naive enough to think otherwise.

Even Cheng Qian’s family had disapproved of hers; why would the Lu family be any different?

The gap between them wasn’t as vast as the Pacific Ocean, perhaps, but at least as wide as the Yellow River and the Yangtze combined.

Besides, she knew better than anyone how this whole situation had begun—she had forced all of these to Lu Yongzhang.

The phrase “well-matched in social and family status” hadn’t come up at her family’s dinner table for a long time, but that didn’t mean she had forgotten about it.

—o—o—o—

Zheng Xiaorou composed herself and pushed open the door to the Proofreading Department.

The building where the publishing house was located was quite old, and the door hinges were just as old. With a creaky sound, the previously lively room inside suddenly fell silent.

“Done so soon?” The team leader’s face was a bit unnatural as she quickly hid something and pressed her hands down. “Alright, everyone, get back to work.”

The sound of pages being flipped filled the air, and the office returned to its usual rhythm.

Zheng Xiaorou sat down, sensing that the strange atmosphere just now had something to do with her, but she didn’t ask about what had happened.

Instead, she focused on her task and diligently resumed proofreading.

—o—o—o—

During lunch, Zheng Xiaorou was standing in line to get her meal when a commotion suddenly broke out in the queue. As the chaos reached her, someone’s lunchbox accidentally knocked into her, spilling hot tomato soup onto the sleeve of her Dacron shirt.

The searing pain made her cry out instantly, and her eyes welled up with tears.

In the midst of the confusion, someone grabbed her arm and began apologizing profusely, saying, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry! I’ll take you to the infirmary!”

The person’s eyes lit up when they saw her face. “You’re the new colleague, right? I’m Tian Xiao’e.”

Zheng Xiaorou touched her arm, and the initial burning sensation had eased a bit by then. “It’s probably not that serious. It should be fine soon.”

She was more worried about whether the stain on her shirt could be cleaned or if it would leave a mark.

“No way, it might be a burn!” Tian Xiao’e hastily handed both their meal tickets and Zheng Xiaorou’s lunchbox to someone nearby, saying, “Get us two meals, please!”

She then pulled Zheng Xiaorou along to the infirmary.

Since it was lunchtime, the infirmary was empty.

Without asking, Tian Xiao’e locked the door, pulled the curtains shut, and turned around to instruct Zheng Xiaorou, “Roll up your sleeve and run it under cold water—quick!”

“My mom’s a doctor. I know what to do, trust me!” Tian Xiao’e took matters into her own hands, rolling up Zheng Xiaorou’s sleeve, revealing a red patch already forming on her arm.

Tian Xiao’e held Zheng Xiaorou’s arm under the cold water with a serious expression for a while.

Although the redness remained, it had improved significantly from before. She found some burn ointment, applied it, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. Looking at Zheng Xiaorou’s fair and delicate arm, she said with lingering fear, “If I had burned you and left a scar, it would’ve hurt me more than if I’d burned myself.”

Zheng Xiaorou lowered her head and rinsed her sleeve as well, laughing softly at Tian Xiao’e’s remark. “I didn’t think it was that serious to begin with.”

But she felt a bit sad about her new shirt.

Her casual smile was pure and gentle, and Tian Xiao’e stared—

momentarily stunned and then shouted: “Wow! You’re way too beautiful!”

Zheng Xiaorou had heard people compliment her looks many times growing up, but none had been as straightforward as this.

Embarrassed, she shook her head, but before she could respond, faint footsteps and the sound of lunchbox lids scraping together could be heard outside the infirmary door, signaling that many people had already finished eating. She invited: “Let’s go have lunch.”

“Yes! Today’s on me! If there’s still food left, I’ll get you something extra to help you recover from the shock!” Tian Xiao’e slung an arm around her shoulders as if they were already old friends.

The two walked out of the infirmary and down the long corridor.

By this time, many of the office lights had dimmed, with colleagues who had finished their meals settling in for their midday naps.

As they reached the corner at the end of the hallway, they overheard two figures standing close together, whispering. Zheng Xiaorou stopped in her tracks when she caught part of their conversation:

“These young women nowadays are unbelievable. They latch onto one and still keep another hanging on.”

“Who? Who’s that?” the other person asked.

“Tch, isn’t it obvious? It has to be someone pretty!”

If she wasn’t mistaken, one of those voices belonged to… the team leader.

Who were they talking about?

Having just experienced the gossip in the alley, Zheng Xiaorou felt like a startled bird and dared not listen any longer.

Tian Xiao’e, who had her arm around Zheng Xiaorou, suddenly spoke up. “Oh, it looks like drinking soup is enough to fill us up today! Xiaorou, do you know why?”

Before Zheng Xiaorou could respond, Tian Xiao’e continued, “When people are bored, they talk about nonsense stuff!”

The two figures fell silent, then quickly ran toward the yard, disappearing into the bamboo grove.

“Gossipers!” Tian Xiao’e hissed angrily in the direction they had fled, which unexpectedly made Zheng Xiaorou, who had been feeling a bit down, burst into laughter.

She turned to look at this loyal girl and smiled. “I haven’t told you my name yet. I’m Zheng Xiaorou.”

“I know.” Tian Xiao’e quickened her pace. “On your first day, the word spread everywhere that a fairy named Zheng Xiaorou joined the Proofreading Department. Come on, let’s see what else we can eat!”

Startled by the gossip, Zheng Xiaorou felt that it didn’t seem so scary this time after all. Her mood brightened further when she returned home and found a note left by her friend: “Xiao Juan is back!”

She joyfully pressed the note to her chest.

—o—o—o—

Meanwhile, after work, Tian Xiao’e handed a note to Pang Haifan, who had come to run an errand for her cousin.

The chubby guy who had rushed over from his workplace said, panting, “So, everything was peaceful today, right? How long must we keep doing this ‘spy’ work?”

“Oh, we got some action today! My sister-in-law was bullied at her workplace!” Tian Xiao’e’s eyes sparkled with the excitement of sharing gossip, and she vividly recounted how the Proofreading Department leader had spoken ill of Zheng Xiaorou.

“Got it!” Pang Haifan clenched the note tightly. “I will report it to him!”

—o—o—o—