Chapter 2: The Quiet Edge of Night

                           

Kaiya Zhongsheng was one of the few joint venture decoration enterprises in China. It began in 1996 with Beijing Zhongsheng Decoration Engineering Co., Ltd., and by 2002 had realized a joint venture with the GAYA Group of the United States. In just a few years, it had grown into a group company composed of three subsidiaries—Decoration Co., Ltd., Engineering Co., Ltd., and Zhongsheng Building Materials—each managed by different legal persons, Ren Tianhua and Su Zhaoyang. The headquarters was in Beijing, with a central base in Wuhan, Jiangcheng. Though the joint venture was only three years old, its development was considerable. Its predecessor, Beijing Zhongsheng, had been an inconspicuous small company in the home improvement market, but after years of effort, the senior management had clearly used their minds in the right place.

Fu Jianling and Xue Shiqi were now middle-level figures in the company. More than two years earlier, when the joint venture was established, Xue Shiqi had been transferred to Beijing as Su Zhaoyang’s assistant. The headquarters had agreed with Su Zhaoyang’s proposal to establish a high-end brand in central China, appointing him brand director. Naturally, Xue Shiqi returned to Jiangcheng with him.

The first day after Qingming was a Thursday. Near the end of the workday, Fu Jianling received a call from Xue Shiqi, saying she had returned and wanted to have dinner together. Fu Jianling was delighted. The last time they had met was during the New Year, hurried and brief. Now that Shiqi was officially transferred back, they could commute together again. She packed her documents and prepared to leave.

Her office was partitioned with glass. Soon she noticed designers and account managers gathering in the hall, even the old accountant and engineering manager stepping out.

Su Zhaoyang was tall and burly, conspicuous in any crowd. Though in his forties, with deliberate stubble, his expression was always commanding—making others dare not relax. He had returned earlier than expected. Spotting Fu Jianling, he smiled faintly. “How are you? Xue Shiqi is also back, but I asked her to come tomorrow. It’s nearly five o’clock. I just came to see everyone, and remind them not to be late tomorrow. There will be an important meeting in the morning.”

Fu Jianling smiled politely. “President Su is diligent, striving to use every minute and second.”

He walked the hall, checked the atmosphere, then raised his wrist. “It’s five o’clock. Get off work on time. Don’t linger unnecessarily—work hard in the right place.”

Within ten minutes, the office was empty.

At the elevator, Su Zhaoyang asked, “Are you dining with Xue Shiqi?” Fu Jianling nodded. “She’s waiting downstairs.” He replied, “Your friendship is strong. In Beijing, she often mentioned you, praising you as a woman of depth.”

Fu Jianling only smiled. “Thank you. Shiqi is my best friend. I missed her when she wasn’t here.”

The elevator opened. He gestured. “Beauty first.” Inside, he asked, “If convenient, may I join you two?” Fu Jianling deflected: “Does Shiqi agree?” He laughed awkwardly. “Just joking.”

Downstairs, Fu Jianling walked to the restaurant she had reserved. It was crowded, but she quickly spotted Xue Shiqi, reading the menu. Her black leather bag and jacket lay aside. She wore a light gray knit, her hair cut short and dyed chocolate brown, lively and capable. Her watch gleamed under the lights.

Fu Jianling approached. They exchanged polite words—“How are you?” “I’m fine.” “You’re thin.” “No, I’m fat.” Then silence, both studying the menu. Fu Jianling laughed. “We talk like we’re at war.” Shiqi sighed. “It’s your fault—you stared at me, making me uncomfortable.”

They ordered easily. Fu Jianling teased: “You look like a young grandmother now.” Shiqi protested. “What? My fashion described as grandmotherly? I don’t want to live!” Jianling laughed. “Fine, you look like a young lady.” Shiqi accepted. “That’s better. This lady waits in her boudoir!”

They spoke of family. Shiqi’s mother had asked Fu Jianling about her daughter’s partner. Shiqi was shocked. “If I find someone, I’ll tell her. She shouldn’t guess.”

The meal arrived. Shiqi, unused to Beijing’s northern diet, was delighted. “This time, I’ll find you a partner first.” Jianling teased: “Why not solve yourself, so your mother stops using me as undercover?” Shiqi insisted: “It’s fate. But I have a feeling the person I’ll introduce you to will work out.”

She promised: “He’s rich and handsome.” Jianling laughed, saying fate decides. Shiqi took out her phone to arrange the meeting. Jianling felt Shiqi had changed, though she couldn’t say how.

Later, they shopped together. Shiqi kept texting. Jianling asked who it was. “A colleague in Beijing,” Shiqi replied. Jianling said calmly: “If you have a partner, you must tell me.” Shiqi asked: “Will you accept whoever I like, as long as I truly like him?” Jianling hesitated, then said: “Yes.”

That night, back at home, they drank beer together. Shiqi grew sharp, declaring: “I am arrogant. Arrogance is my sword. If others bully me, I stab back.” Jianling pushed her gently toward the shower. “Enough. Meeting tomorrow.”

Shiqi hummed songs in the bathroom, her voice rising and falling like a hesitant violin. Jianling sat unsettled in the living room, scrolling through her phone book, names stirring memories.

Near midnight, Shiqi argued on the phone, angry at broken promises. “You liar! I’ll never trust you again.” Then her voice softened, weary. “I’m tired. I fight for everything. If I don’t fight, you never act. It’s boring.”

The call lasted hours. At three in the morning, Shiqi emerged, saw Jianling asleep on the sofa, and quietly covered her with a quilt. Jianling opened her eyes, clutching the quilt, turning off the lamp.

Memories stirred—school days, bright classrooms, novels by the window, Du Ya beside her, and Shiqi, tomboyish in uniform, short-haired, round-faced, eager yet proud. She had hated boys, wanted to join them, but never dared.

One day, caught sleeping in class, she woke to Jianling’s voice, thinking it a dream. “Is school over? Let’s go home together.” The teacher punished her, but afterward she sat with them, laughing. From then on, whenever Jianling and Du Ya read together, Shiqi’s hand would appear, her smile bright as the moon.

Ah, how long ago it was. Childhood friendships, gossip, fierce classmates, Ge Li striding proudly, resentment hidden in dark eyes.

How long ago it all seemed…

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