Chapter 3: Taking Someone

“Ji Fanling?”

Ji Fanling jumped up suddenly: “Oh!”

The college student next to her was dumbfounded: “…What the hell!”

Ji Fanling had squatted for too long and stood up too quickly, making her knees a little weak. Blood rushed to the top of her head, mixing with the sound of her heartbeat.

Ji Fanling closed her eyes for a moment, steadied herself, then took a few steps to the side of the car.

The warmth from the heater inside the car rushed out through the open window.

She lowered her head and curiously studied the man’s face, unable to stop herself from laughing: “I told you, you look like Fu Yingcheng.”

The girl stood by the car, stepping out from the shelter of the eaves, and the rainwater seeped into her collar along her neck. She shivered unconsciously from the cold, and her lips turning pale.

Fu Yingcheng furrowed his brow slightly: “Get in the car.”

Ji Fanling, immersed in the joy of encountering a “familiar face in a foreign land,” continued speaking to him while standing in the rain: “You recognized me on the road just now? How did you recognize me? I thought…”

The car door was opened from the inside. Fu Yingcheng sat there, looking at her with an indescribable expression in his eyes.

“Get in the car,” he said, his voice carrying the chill of the rain.

Ji Fanling: “…Oh.”

She wasn’t sure if Fu Yingcheng was afraid of the cold, but there was a significant temperature difference between the inside and outside of the car. As soon as she got in, the warm air enveloped her, and even the seat had a heating function, making it as cozy as a sun-warmed blanket.

Ji Fanling lowered her eyes and noticed the carpet was now dirtied by her shoe soles. Feeling uneasy, she shifted her feet and turned her head again to confirm: “You really did recognize me, right?”

Fu Yingcheng’s expression remained calm. It seemed that he had no extra curiosity about this old classmate who had suddenly reappeared after ten years of no contact.

“I know you’re Ji Fanling.” He simply said.

With just that one sentence, Ji Fanling suddenly felt that the unsettled feeling in her heart, which had been floating since earlier, finally settled down a little.

…

There was still someone who could call out her name.

It made the world seem a little less unfamiliar.

“I used to live near here, and I just went home for a bit,” Ji Fanling explained, trying to organize her words.

“But Ji Guoliang—my dad—moved away. I can’t reach him by phone, maybe he ran off, or if I’m being optimistic,”

The girl’s tone was flat, “he might be dead.”

The driver glanced at the girl through the rearview mirror, surprised.

“How should I put this, it was right at the intersection where you saw me earlier.”

Ji Fanling glanced at the driver and leaned a little closer to Fu Yingcheng, lowering her voice. “I got hit by a car, and when I opened my eyes, it’s been like this ever since.”

Ji Fanling nodded, her eyes carrying a look of “you should understand now.”

“That’s right.”

Fu Yingcheng responded to her nonsensical explanation, and lowering his gaze to look at her.

The girl seemed a bit too thin, even thinner than he remembered. Her small, palm-sized face appeared pale, almost frost-like in the dim light, damp and as if freshly washed, giving off a simple, clean look.

The droplets on her eyelashes were getting heavier, about to roll into her eyes.

Fu Yingcheng raised his hand, pulled out two tissues, and handed them to her.

Ji Fanling, still hearing the college student’s enthusiastic mentions of “big alloy wheels,” “turbocharged engine,” and “genuine leather seats” in her mind, absentmindedly took the tissues and used them to wipe the water off the seat.

The streetlights outside flashed by, and Fu Yingcheng’s gaze darkened, becoming unfathomable.

Ji Fanling, oblivious to him staring at her, finished wiping the water and then rubbed her eyes uncomfortably. “Do you have QQ^[1]QQ is an instant messaging platform developed by the Chinese tech company Tencent. on your phone? Can you let me log in for a bit?”

“Okay.” Fu Yingcheng took out his phone, and as if something crossed his mind, his fingers tightened slightly for a moment before he paused and handed it to her.

Ji Fanling entered her account and password, but unfortunately, she hadn’t logged in for years, and QQ insisted on requiring a phone verification code.

She didn’t even have a phone, and back when she registered the account, she had casually borrowed someone else’s number. Now, after struggling for a while, she still couldn’t log in no matter what.

Ji Fanling gave up.

Fu Yingcheng relaxed slightly, raised his hand to take back the phone, and the screen smoothly spun beneath his fingertips. He asked calmly, “Who are you trying to contact?”

“Cheng Jiali.” Ji Fanling’s eyes lit up when she mentioned her boyfriend.

“Right, you should be in the class group or alumni group or something like that. You can ask someone from his class to add his contact.”

Fu Yingcheng looked up and met her bright, sparkling eyes.

A moment that seemed to stretch endlessly.

The tension that had been stretched to its limit suddenly snapped, and the memories beautified by time were harshly torn apart by the vivid reality of resurfacing past events.

After all these years, it still stung.

For the first time in ten years, the man shifted his gaze away from her, leaning back against the seat. Then, he let out a soft laugh.

A laugh filled with exasperation.

Ji Fanling: “?”

“I’m not in the group.” Fu Yingcheng glanced at her, his tone ambiguous. “…And I don’t just add anyone.”

Ji Fanling tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You must at least know classmates, right? Can you send a message to Zhou Sui?”

“What should I say?”

“Just tell her you saw me…” Ji Fanling said. “I called her, but she didn’t believe me and blocked me.”

“You want me to get blocked by her too?”

Ji Fanling: “…”

Exactly, no matter how Fu Yingcheng phrased it, through a screen, Zhou Sui would either think his account was hacked or that he had gone mad.

“It’s not the right time to contact someone now,” Fu Yingcheng said calmly. “Tomorrow, during the day, I’ll help you find out where she is, and you can go see her in person.”

Ji Fanling nodded. “Okay.”

After another twenty minutes of driving, the Maybach turned a corner and entered an upscale neighborhood, coming to a stop in front of an apartment building.

“Mr. Fu, we’ve arrived,” the driver said.

“Arrived where?” Ji Fanling suddenly looked out the window, realizing that she had gotten into the car without asking the destination.

Fu Yingcheng: “My home.”

“Then can you take me to….” Both Fu Yingcheng and the driver looked at her, making Ji Fanling hesitant to finish her sentence. “…a smaller hotel nearby?”

Fu Yingcheng: “Do you have an ID card?”

Ji Fanling braced herself: “…Can I borrow yours?”

Fu Yingcheng followed up with another question: “Do you have money?”

“I have…” Ji Fanling pinched the two yuan in her pocket, averting her gaze, “but I’m a little short.”

“Do you also want to borrow mine?”

“And tomorrow?”

“Still borrowing from me?”

…

The man’s tone wasn’t aggressive; it was low, calm, and his words were spoken at an unhurried pace.

His voice carried a natural aloofness, as if he was always in a position of superiority.

Ji Fanling fell silent.

Her relationship with Fu Yingcheng might have been a bit better than that of ordinary classmates, but it couldn’t exactly be called friendship either.

Ten years without seeing each other, and the first thing she asked for was money.

It was a bit shameless, really.

A heavy silence filled the car.

The driver tentatively spoke up, “Uh, I can take you to a nearby…” But as soon as he caught a glance from the corner of Fu Yingcheng’s eye, he instinctively fell silent.

“It’s late. Don’t delay Mr. Chen from getting off work.”

Fu Yingcheng lifted his chin slightly. “Get out.”

Ji Fanling had no choice but to get out of the car.

The rain had already stopped, and the puddles on the ground reflected the broken moon behind the clouds. Her damp shoes made a spongy, squeaky sound with every step.

With her hands in her pockets, the girl started walking toward the edge of the neighborhood.

The area around Fu Yingcheng’s place was upscale, and the hotel prices were easily twice as much as those near her school. If she had known, she wouldn’t have taken this ride.

She was still mulling it over when she suddenly heard a voice behind her: “Where are you going?”

“I didn’t take your money, so why do you care where I go?” Ji Fanling turned around, and said expressionlessly. “You’re not going to ask me for a fare, are you?”

“What I meant was, staying at my place doesn’t require an ID, and it’s free.”

The man stood tall and straight beneath the building, his figure outlined against the bright lights from inside. He calmly looked at her and said, “There’s a guest room. It’s not as good as a hotel, but do you want to stay?”

“Really?” Ji Fanling was stunned for a moment and quickly ran back. “Your place is fine, your place will do. Thank you… White Lotus classmate.”

Not far away, the driver, upon hearing this, nearly slammed on the gas instead of the brake.

…

He knew Mr. Fu’s style well. When he was busy, every second was precious. If a problem could be solved with money, he would never waste time on it.

Listening to the girl’s somewhat casual attitude toward Mr. Fu, she must be a relative or a family friend… maybe a child from the family? Even so, he should have booked her a room. Two or three hundred for a night—given Mr. Fu’s wealth, he wouldn’t blink an eye at booking an entire year.

—Why, then, did he take her straight home over such a small amount of money?

The driver was utterly perplexed.

It was true.

This was some real bizarre business.

*
The decor of Fu Yingcheng’s home had a kind of subdued, cold minimalism to it. There was no sense of warmth, just black, white, and gray tones, giving it an empty feel. It looked more like another business venue than a home.

The large black mirrors made the interior space look stern and rigid, almost excessively clean. Even the shoes on the rack were lined up perfectly, with all the toes pointing in the same direction.

Upon entering, the first thing Fu Yingcheng said was for her to take a shower.

Ji Fanling figured that, in Fu Yingcheng’s eyes, she must seem like a ball of mud, dirtying everything she touched. So she didn’t object and went into the bathroom.

It wasn’t until she had already started washing that she realized none of the bath products had a single Chinese character on the label. She couldn’t tell what was what.

Unwilling to ask, she decided to make full use of her English skills, translating each label. She picked a bottle that looked like shampoo and used it.

Her clothes were already soaked through when she entered, and she initially thought about just wearing them again after her shower. But when she stepped out, she found that Fu Yingcheng had left a set of pajamas for her.

…He must have been worried she’d dirty his bed.

The pajamas were soft, dark gray, brand new, washed but never worn.

On her, they looked almost theatrical, with the sleeves and pants dragging way too long.

Ji Fanling rolled up the sleeves and pant legs a few times, and held up the waistband with one hand as she walked out. Even the slippers were too big, making a clumsy flip-flop sound with every step she took.

Fu Yingcheng was just coming out of the kitchen, carrying a pot of noodles in one hand and placing it on the table.

Though it was a quick, late-night meal, he had added slices of fatty beef and shrimp from the fridge, with a seafood broth and a golden, soft-boiled egg on top.

Ji Fanling glanced at the noodles, then expressionlessly turned her gaze away. Her stomach, however, betrayed her with two loud growls.

Fu Yingcheng noticed her coming out and casually glanced at her before looking away again. “I made too much. Want some?”

“Is that so? If you don’t eat it tonight, it’ll get soggy. I’ll help you finish some,”

Ji Fanling said as she leaned in to take a look. “…Just the noodles will do, no need for the toppings. I’m not that hungry.”

Fu Yingcheng gave her a sidelong glance. “What are you thinking? I never planned to give you the toppings anyway.”

Ji Fanling: “…”

Ha.

She had originally planned to thank him, but suddenly, she no longer felt like it.

Ji Fanling sat down to eat the noodles, and Fu Yingcheng sat beside her, picking up his chopsticks, but before he could take a bite, he received a phone call.

After listening for a few moments, he stood up, tapping his fingers lightly on the table, and said in an indifferent tone, “There’s an urgent matter at the company. Finish mine too.”

While slurping her noodles, Ji Fanling mumbled an “Oh” and casually pulled his bowl over in front of her.

…

Two bowls of noodles were nothing—she was someone who had been hungry for ten years.

Ji Fanling devoured the noodles, broth and all, with big, hearty gulps.

*

In the study room.

The person on the other end of the phone, hearing no response for a while, raised their voice: “Hey, hey, Fu Yingcheng, are you listening?”

The man’s tall figure passed between towering rosewood bookshelves, reflected in the glass of the display cabinet. His emotionless face stared back at him from the glass.

The noisy voice coming from the receiver seemed distant, distorted by his wandering thoughts, becoming a blurred, incomprehensible noise in his ears, almost like it had lost its clarity.

“Fu Yingcheng, hey—Fu Yingcheng!”

“What more do you want me to hear?”

Fu Yingcheng finally snapped back to attention, loosening his collar with one hand and responding coldly, “When will you ever call without wasting time?”

“Wasting time? How is this wasting time?! Didn’t you say you’d be back right after your trip home? Hurry back! I’ve been covering for you all day! That German guy’s cologne is so strong it smells like a plush gorilla, and his English has such a thick accent, I feel like I’m going to puke just from listening.” Su Lingqing sounded like he had just taken a punch to the chest from the gorilla.

They had originally been attending the MEDICA International Medical Equipment Fair in Düsseldorf, Germany, with plans to stay for seven days. However, Fu Yingcheng quietly wrapped up his business and returned to Beiwan alone, without saying a word.

A 3 AM flight, thirteen hours one way, a four-hour layover, then another thirteen-hour flight back… the itinerary was practically something out of a special forces mission.

Su Lingqing couldn’t understand. What kind of monumental issue could have possibly required such a trip?

“There were some… unexpected events,” Fu Yingcheng said calmly. “I won’t be going back tomorrow.”

“What?” Su Lingqing was shocked. “You changed your ticket? No one told me!”

“Just decided,” Fu Yingcheng replied.

“When did you ever change your plans… wait,” Su Lingqing suddenly grew serious. “It can’t be something wrong with the old lady, can it?”

Su Lingqing knew a bit about Fu Yingcheng’s family situation—his mother had been out of the picture for years, and his father was still in prison. The only person who could possibly matter enough to make him rush back like this was his grandmother, who had raised him.

“The old lady is fine, stop imagining things,” Fu Yingcheng frowned.

“Don’t scare me like that. So it’s you who has…”

Fu Yingcheng cut him off: “It’s nothing, I’m hanging up.”

“Wait, don’t hang up! You haven’t told me what’s going on yet!”

Fu Yingcheng paused for a moment, then spoke about something else entirely: “Do you know anyone at the household registration office? I might need to get someone an ID card and household registration.”

“I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head, but I’m sure I know someone,”

Said Su Lingqing, who, as a notorious playboy, was never short of connections: “Why, can’t you go through the usual channels? What’s the situation? A newborn?”

“Seventeen. Girl. No assets. No registration.”

Su Lingqing: “……”

His voice involuntarily rose, “Fu Yingcheng, you’re not telling me you flew back for some illegal smuggling, are you?”

*

Fu Yingcheng hung up the phone and sat in a daze in the study room for a while before slowly getting up, composing his expression, and heading back to the dining room.

The table was already empty, wiped spotless.

The girl was slumped over the edge of the table, with a full stomach.

“You ate everything?” Fu Yingcheng noticed that the pot, ladle, bowls, and chopsticks were all washed and neatly arranged on the kitchen counter.

Ji Fanling shot him a resentful glance, opening her mouth only to let out a loud “hic.”

Fu Yingcheng: “…”

“Next time, you should cook less,” Ji Fanling said, forming a small circle with her thumb and forefinger. “For one person, this much is enough.”

“If it weren’t for me today, that whole pot of noodles would have gone to waste.”

“I asked you to help me.”

Fu Yingcheng seemed to recall something, and he said with a hint of displeasure hidden in his words, “I didn’t ask you to risk your life helping me.”

“Can’t help it, that’s just how I am—always eager to lend a hand.”

Ji Fanling replied, holding her stomach as she struggled to stand up. “Enough talking, I need to lie down… Good thing, I won’t have to eat tomorrow.”

The girl, dragging her ill-fitting slippers, shuffled away. Fu Yingcheng walked into the kitchen, wiping down the counters, cleaning up the ingredients, and organizing the cupboards. None of it was urgent, but his head was aching, and his mind was a mess. Only cleaning gave him a slight sense of relief.

The sound of slippers flip-flopping echoed again, stretching out as they returned, and stopping close behind him.

The girl’s voice, slow and unhurried, called out, “Fu Yingcheng.”

He stood by the sink, pouring the boiled water into a pitcher.

At the sound of her voice, he paused for a moment, and said with his tone carrying a hint of sarcasm, “What, too full to move?”

“No,” she said, with a thoughtful voice. “I just suddenly remembered… that night, ten years ago, what did you want from me?”

Ji Fanling added, “You had Zhou Sui pass the message to me, to meet you on the rooftop at seven.”

“You know, I couldn’t make it,” the girl scratched her nose lightly, and her voice barely audible.

“…I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, a splash of boiling water spilled out, scalding hot, landing on the back of Fu Yingcheng’s hand. Yet he remained perfectly still, as if he hadn’t felt it at all.

He slowly lowered his eyes, his eyelids casting a dark shadow over them.

“That was a long time ago.”

After a while, Fu Yingcheng said in a calm voice, without turning around.

“—I don’t remember it anymore.”