Chapter 4: Entanglements of Love

Hong Mingliang was surprised to discover how deeply Fu Jianling influenced Xue Shiqi. Even during casual conversation, he noticed Fu Jianling sending subtle signals of disapproval to Xue Shiqi, and naturally these hints also affected Su Zhaoyang, who stood behind her.

Hong Mingliang and Su Zhaoyang had known each other for years. Though not in the same profession, they regarded each other as brothers. He was well aware of Su Zhaoyang’s relationship with Xue Shiqi outside of work—a bond between man and woman that seemed beautiful and genuine.

Yet Fu Jianling did not see it that way. Faced with Xue Shiqi’s tentative openness, she asked nothing, leaving Shiqi feeling even more ashamed and conflicted. Jianling quickly realized that introducing Hong Mingliang to her had been Su Zhaoyang’s idea. It was not a test, but rather Su’s attempt to place her in a similar situation as Shiqi, so that she would ease her psychological pressure on the girl. In this way, Shiqi would not press Su Zhaoyang too hard.

Hong Mingliang believed sincerely that whether Su Zhaoyang divorced or not, he was not simply playing with Xue Shiqi. Otherwise, why would he care so much about her friends? Perhaps Fu Jianling understood this point, which explained her attitude. Mingliang thought, half amused, that Fu Jianling was interesting in her own way. But her cold eyes seemed to see through men entirely. If one sought solace in love, Mingliang did not think she was the right candidate. She was too rigid, like a code of norms—sharp-edged, without excitement.

After sending the two women home that night, Hong Mingliang immediately called Su Zhaoyang. It was midnight, and Su was still working at his hotel desk. When he received the call, he removed his glasses, rubbed his temples, and said with a smile: “Lao Hong is proud of the spring breeze today, sweeping away all my astringent qi.”

Hong Mingliang replied: “Xiaoqi’s friend is clever. I told her that a passionate, unrestrained girl like Xiaoqi is best suited for older, capable men. She immediately said: yes, but older, capable men are married, and Shiqi is not a snack—why should she be stolen by others? You see, she strongly opposes your relationship.”

Su Zhaoyang was not angry. He smiled and said: “It’s nothing for her to object. Shiqi is a child afraid of loneliness, and friendship cannot stop her from accepting my love.”

Hong Mingliang smiled faintly, nodding. “Alright, you have confidence, so I won’t say more. The romance and snow moon end here. As for the matter you asked me to watch, I already have leads. I’ll pass the information to you later.”

Su Zhaoyang was pleased. “Thank you.”

Hong Mingliang added: “You’re really capable. You’ve worked hard for so many years. If you had to start over, could you?” His tone carried no surprise.

Su Zhaoyang replied firmly: “Different paths do not conspire together. I believe I am not wrong, and I am not afraid of going the wrong way.”

Xue Shiqi moved out after only three days at Fu Jianling’s house. Su Zhaoyang had already rented a duplex and furnished it with all necessities. Shiqi brought her small luggage and moved in. When she left, she only said she had rented a place outside. Jianling had planned to help her clean, but from the balcony she saw Su Zhaoyang’s car parked on the roadside, so she stopped insisting.

Su Zhaoyang had been busy with company affairs and had little time for Shiqi. He thought of taking her away for a romantic weekend. His aggressive personality permeated every aspect of his life—career, communication, and love. He took her out, held her tightly, refusing to let go. Shiqi worried about others’ stares, but he only hugged her tighter. “If I catch you, I won’t let go. That’s my principle.”

Shiqi sighed: “Maybe I’m a knife. The tighter you hold me, the more blood you shed.”

She never missed a chance to complain about their relationship.

Her tragic phrasing always amused Su Zhaoyang. “You’re at best a fruit knife. But I am a killing blade.”

Unexpectedly, Shiqi slapped him hard across the face. She showed no embarrassment, and when she raised her hand to strike again, Su Zhaoyang seized her wrist, pressed her shoulder, and said sternly: “Don’t hit me. If you strike me again next time…”

“What about you? Do you dare to hit back?” Shiqi challenged stubbornly.

Su Zhaoyang paused, then suddenly released her. Seeing her hesitate, he stroked her head tenderly, her delicate hair slipping between his fingers. “Shiqi, you are too bad. Too bad.”

Shiqi lowered her head like a scolded puppy, murmuring aggrievedly: “The bad one is you. You promised to divorce, but you haven’t. You promised to put my name on the Beijing house, but you didn’t. You only gave me a token position in the company. Don’t I know? These are all illusions.”

Su Zhaoyang looked pained. He pulled her into his arms. “On June 27, when you turn twenty-six, I’ll give you that house as a birthday gift.” He kissed her hand. “When Yuanhe’s affairs are settled, I’ll buy you a car. You’ll have time to go out and explore.”

Shiqi said nothing.

Knowing she was no longer angry, Su kissed the corner of her lips tentatively. She laughed, and he grew wild with desire. Even if they stabbed at each other daily, he craved the process of taming her.

Yet Shiqi could not surpass his control. Sometimes she doubted how much she truly loved him. If not for love, she had no reason to follow him. She was not worthless, nor forced to live this way. But she was bound to him. She dared not tell Fu Jianling of their relationship, because deep down she did not know whether Su Zhaoyang had pursued her first, or whether she had lost control herself.

On the day Shiqi left, Fu Jianling received a call from an old classmate inviting her to a weekend party. The caller, Xu Weijing, bluntly said: “I don’t want to see Xue Shiqi.”

Fu Jianling assumed Shiqi would spend the weekend with Su Zhaoyang, so she only sent a text message to inform her. Shiqi did not reply.

On the weekend, Fu Jianling went alone to the class reunion organized by Xu Weijing. Most of the classmates had advanced together from elementary school to high school, so their bonds were deep. From Jianling’s observation, most of the women were already married or engaged, and they looked happy. Only Xu Weijing, the first among them to marry, opened the gathering by announcing she was divorcing.

Everyone expressed sympathy without prying, but Xu Weijing spoke openly about her situation. She and her husband had run a small materials company, with her managing it for years. Yet her husband had used her hard-earned money to support a mistress. Xu Weijing said bitterly: “Originally, I went to the grave when I married for love. But now, there is heavy snow over my cemetery, and I would rather burn everything with fire.” Then she laughed: “But I am unlucky. Unlike you, I didn’t find the right person.”

The group sighed. “Men are unreliable, yet we still marry them. Why?”

Xu Weijing laughed: “That’s why Jianling is the best. No marriage—if not more serious, who is more uncomfortable than this?”

Fu Jianling felt her gaze and answered awkwardly: “But when I’m sick, no one takes care of me. When I shop, no one helps me pay. When work goes badly, no one comforts me. On holidays, when others are in pairs, I’m embarrassed to go out. Even if I pick up a baby, I don’t know who to show it to. Where is the good in that? Is this why you all married?”

The women laughed helplessly. “Yes, we’re used to having someone around. We’re afraid of being alone.”

The men protested: “What do you mean? Aren’t we here? Which of us isn’t a good man—cooking at home, earning outside, picking up and dropping off, paying the bills?”

The remark made everyone laugh, and the conversation broke into smaller groups.

Xu Weijing leaned lightly on Jianling’s shoulder. “How are you doing?”

“It’s okay,” Jianling replied.

“You’re very close to Xue Shiqi, but always plain with me,” Xu Weijing said with a smile. “We met first, we live in the same city, yet we rarely see each other. I know Shiqi excludes me, but you tolerate her.”

Jianling felt she was complaining, perhaps blaming her for their broken friendship. Or maybe she wanted to restore intimacy.

Jianling did not believe feelings should be forced. Those meant to last would continue; those that couldn’t would pass. She didn’t respond, but the familiar look in Xu Weijing’s eyes stirred memories. Suddenly she asked: “By the way, have you seen Ge Li?”

Xu Weijing was not surprised. “Have you?”

“I went to sweep Yaya’s grave and ran into him. He’s changed a lot.”

Xu Weijing didn’t care, but stared strangely. “Then have you met anyone else?”

“No,” Jianling said.

“You didn’t meet Wei Zongze?”

The name had surfaced often recently. Jianling thought briefly, then answered firmly: “No.”

Xu Weijing sneered: “He is calm. In this huge city, I’m afraid you’re the only one he wants to see.”

Jianling smiled. So Wei Zongze was back.

Later, Xu Weijing drank heavily, while Jianling, with little tolerance, grew flushed but remained rational. Feeling unwell, she went to the bathroom to cool herself.

By the time she returned, many classmates had left. Only she and Xu Weijing remained. Drunk, Xu clung to her shoulder. “Jianling, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not,” Jianling said.

“You are. You can’t go back alone. Look, everyone’s gone. I’ll find someone to pick you up. Good?”

“Who?” Jianling asked.

“Wei Zongze. I have his number.” Xu Weijing pulled out her phone. She thought Jianling would stop her, but Jianling just sat quietly.

Xu threw her phone aside, glaring. “Why aren’t you excited?”

“What’s there to be excited about?” Jianling said helplessly. “He’s just an old classmate. I don’t want to see him. Even if he appeared now, I wouldn’t want to. And knowing him, even if you call, he won’t come.”

“Why?”

“He won’t be at your mercy.”

Xu Weijing grew sullen, then said: “Maybe because you said that, I’ll really call him.” She dialed. When someone else answered, she snapped: “Hand the phone to Wei Zongze.” Then, glancing at Jianling, she added angrily: “I got Fu Jianling drunk. Come pick her up.”

As Jianling predicted, Wei Zongze refused. He told Xu Weijing bluntly she could ask Ge Li instead. If she only wanted to see a joke between him and Jianling, it was impossible. He hung up without courtesy.

Xu Weijing, rebuffed, snorted coldly. “Maybe if you call him, he’ll come.”

“I would only call my parents before jumping off a cliff,” Jianling replied.

“The more you resent him, the more you love him. You’ll never forget him,” Xu said.

“Do you hope that’s true?” Jianling asked.

Xu leaned back, drunken eyes unfocused. “No. I hope you never get back together. I don’t want to see him proud, regaining lost love. I don’t want to see you become his broad wife. That’s disgusting. I want to confirm it’s impossible between you two.”

Jianling knew Xu was drunk, perhaps deliberately. She prepared to send her home, but then Ge Li called. His voice was calm: “Zongze asked me to send you. Where are you? I’ll come right away.”

Jianling thought suddenly that perhaps Wei Zongze had already seen her—on that rainy Qingming, when she stood at the fruit stall by the cemetery, cold air swirling, weeds sweet in the damp. Cars passed in the mud like silent serial numbers. Ge Li had retreated quietly then, smiling, offering her a ride.

Xu Weijing looked at Jianling in a daze, perhaps satisfied with her mischief. She sighed, regretful. “Jianling, I’m sorry. Maybe I acted like a clown again. But you know me—I’m excitable.”

She held Jianling close. “I married first, and now I’m the first to divorce. I don’t even have a friend left. I told you before, I want to keep our friendship. Can I get it back?”

Jianling stroked her cold hand. “Once, there were four of us. Du Ya was most like me, closest to me. She’s gone, and I’ll miss her forever. I talked most with you. I knew you were desperate to rise, always befriending those with family backgrounds. That’s why you knew Shiqi—her family was rich, but she was ambitious like you, so you hated her. When the four of us were together, if Du Ya and I weren’t there, you and Shiqi always quarreled. And after the quarrel, you always bowed your head first.”

Xu Weijing fell silent.

Jianling continued: “The friendship is still here. But I know you don’t want to reconcile with me. Why not just say what you want me to do? Why not ask if I can help you? Why always involve men—me and Wei Zongze—and then what? Were you involved in a secret?”

In the past, Xu Weijing had feared Jianling most. Jianling was like her name—sometimes a sword. If you wanted her care, you had to let her stab you first. Xu’s favorite was Du Ya, but neither Du Ya nor the hated Shiqi could make her love and hate as Jianling did—wanting her reprimand yet wanting to strike her too.

At that moment, Xu Weijing longed to return to the inseparable bond of the four.

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