Lingmei's conference standards had always been first-class.
The reason they insisted on trilingual hosting was that their clients were spread across the world, many of them industry heavyweights, and this particular conference required a live broadcast to every branch office worldwide. It put everyone to the test.
Shang Zhitao had gone looking for someone on the market. Bilingual hosts, Chinese and English, were easy enough to find. Adding French made it difficult. She finally found a top graduate from a foreign languages college, someone beautiful as well as qualified, who quoted twenty thousand yuan, not including travel and tax.
Shang Zhitao's company was small. She gritted her teeth and paid it.
She brought her own black formal dress, had the makeup artist pull her hair back into a sleek style, put on rented diamond earrings, stepped into a pair of high heels, and walked onto the stage. The good posture she'd built since childhood served her well that day. She came out with a touch of commanding presence and a hint of refined elegance.
Her stance, her opening pose, her smile, she had rehearsed all of it countless times so the clients would feel their money was well spent. After enough rehearsal, it was easy to mistake the polish for natural talent.
Song Qiuhan sat beside Luan Nian and tapped his armrest, telling him to look up and stop checking his messages. Luan Nian made a sound of acknowledgment and lifted his head, catching sight of a radiant Shang Zhitao just as she opened with her first line.
"Good afternoon, friends."
The script was well written. Not a single cliché in it.
"There is snow in the north," she said, "but our hearts run warm. Lingmei thanks you all for joining us on this journey through ice and snow."
Then came the English and French translations.
Luan Nian had never known Shang Zhitao spoke English and French. He hadn't known that during those weekends she vanished from his home, she was going back to her own place, picking up her books, and moving through the city of Beijing to study language and knowledge.
Nearly all growth happens without a sound. It demands long patience and restraint. Those hours had been lonely and painful, but they carried warmth too. Shang Zhitao remembered the night breeze off Houhai, the yellow leaves of a Beijing autumn, the hurried pace of strangers in the subway. Time had been cut into small pieces and gathered bit by bit, scattered through her, melted into her bones, and had in the end reshaped her.
When Luan Nian walked up to give his speech, he passed close by her. The smile in her eyes carried the certainty of a woman of thirty.
None of the old panic remained.
He spoke while she sat below, and their positions had switched. And yet somehow it felt as though nothing had switched at all. Luan Nian had always liked being watched by her, ever since the very first event they'd attended together.
During the forum session, Shang Zhitao sat beside him.
The guests took their seats one after another to discuss the future of digital advertising. When it came to Jiang Lan's segment, she spoke about how industry associations and alliances shaped the companies and professionals within them. Something stirred in Shang Zhitao.
If she wanted to move into advertising agency work, she needed to step inside that circle and become an insider herself. After the summit, Jiang Lan was chatting with Luan Nian. She spotted Shang Zhitao and waved her over.
"Flora, come talk for a minute."
Shang Zhitao walked over.
"I never knew you spoke French," Jiang Lan said, sounding impressed. "Your accent is clean. I can tell you trained hard at it."
"I picked it up in my spare time, a few years back."
"Lingmei keeps you busy enough as it is, and you still found time to study on the side?"
"I did. Weekends weren't too demanding, so I found a teacher."
Luan Nian understood, all at once. Those weekends when she'd disappeared early on hadn't all been about matchmaking work. She had been studying, quietly, without a word about it, for six years.
"Director Jiang," Shang Zhitao said with a smile, "I'd like to ask you something. I just heard you speak about industry associations and alliances. If a newly established advertising agency wanted to join, how much would the membership fee be?"
"The fee is secondary. What matters is finding a guarantor. Do you have one?"
"What kind of person qualifies?"
Jiang Lan tipped her head toward Luan Nian. "Someone like your Director Luan."
Shang Zhitao glanced at him, standing off to the side without a word, and nodded. "I understand. Thank you, Director Jiang."
"You could ask him to vouch for you. You worked together at Lingmei before, after all, superior and subordinate." Jiang Lan's eyes glinted with interest. She simply found the whole thing amusing.
Shang Zhitao had no wish to bring it up. She didn't even have startup capital yet, let alone anything worth guaranteeing. Her mind was full of nothing but money these days.
The company needed to grow, and its business needed to diversify. Advertising agency work was an entirely new field for her, and she had two problems to solve: money and people.
While everyone was clearing out the venue, she got to talking with Fu Dong. He mentioned a female classmate of his, an advertising major, who after graduation had gone to work at an agency in Ice City and was now running media buys with a small team under her.
"Could I meet her?" Shang Zhitao asked.
"Of course. I brag about you in the class group chat every day. Plenty of my classmates want to meet you." Fu Dong laughed.
"Then once we're back, find a time and set it up. Let's go learn something from them, what do you say?"
"Sounds good. And then?"
"And then we figure out how to raise money. If your classmate's willing and it's a good fit, we bring her over, build a team on the agency side, and give our business another layer of security."
"Got it."
The two of them kept working as they talked it through. Shang Zhitao reminded Fu Dong, "Tomorrow the clients go skiing. Safety comes first. The day after, they're out to see the snow. Make sure the food is handled. The main event is behind us, so don't let anything go wrong at the last minute."
"Understood."
"Once we're back in Ice City, give the team a few days off. Pulling all-nighters like this all the time will kill someone. Starting with me."
Shang Zhitao's hormones were out of balance. She needed to go home and take some traditional medicine to set herself right, and the New Year holiday was a good time for it. That was part of why she wanted to develop this new line of business in the first place.
Lumi came over. "Tonight I'm treating you. Let's grab something at the hotel buffet."
"Sure."
"Luke and Will too, and Director Song. He's heading back first thing tomorrow and won't be joining the rest of the trip. Think of it as a send-off."
"Then maybe I'll skip it. That's your own thing."
"Will said to bring you along."
"All right. Then let me set something up for tonight, take the bosses out to a bar. The hotel bar isn't bad either. I have a friend who sings there."
It was the singer she'd met back in Dali. He'd drifted here afterward and stayed two years. Every time Shang Zhitao passed through, she sat with him a while, listened to him sing, talked.
"Sure. Depends on Luke, though. His personality's gotten stranger every year, not sure he'll want to come."
"Isn't it better if he doesn't?" Shang Zhitao shot back.
Lumi raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She could see it plainly: Shang Zhitao treated Luan Nian like a threat to be braced against, like something venomous to keep away from. She had no idea what had actually happened between them. Lumi wanted to ask, but since Shang Zhitao never brought it up herself, she didn't feel right pressing.
Being a good friend meant knowing where the line sat. Lumi might come across as carefree, but she had a sense for boundaries.
Luan Nian showed up after dinner and went along to the bar as well.
Lingmei's clients were scattered around the bar in twos and threes. Luan Nian looked the room over and asked Lumi, "Any plans tonight?"
"No."
"Then I'll cover the clients' tab."
"All right."
Lumi walked up front and took the microphone. "Director Luan just said drinks are on him for all our client friends tonight. We haven't taken good enough care of you all, we forgot you might want to come sit at the bar this evening."
Everyone applauded.
Luan Nian stood and raised his glass. "Drink up."
Lumi turned to Shang Zhitao. "Still on our tab as always?"
Shang Zhitao nodded. "Yes."
The hotel was through Xing Yi's connections, and she'd only put down a small deposit. She stepped aside and called him. "Hey, friend."
"What's up?"
"I need to add another charge to the tab..."
"Settle up later?"
"Right."
"Fine. Then you owe me a drink for it. Later."
She turned around and saw Xing Yi sitting with a few others, probably his government colleagues. She walked over smiling and greeted them. Xing Yi put a hand on her shoulder. "Let me introduce you. These are the leaders from my unit. There's a business seminar here tomorrow."
Xing Yi introduced her around, and she took cards from her holder and offered them with both hands to each person in turn.
After the pleasantries, he pulled her aside. "Going smoothly?"
"Smoothly."
"Good. I'll find their boss in a bit and vouch for you. Don't worry about it."
"All right. I'll buy you a drink for that."
"A drink's fine. Bring Shang Zhishu along."
"...You two broke up. Why would you want her there?"
"Just because we broke up doesn't mean I can't ask her out. Bring her, I'll sort things out with her."
"Sort out what? You want to get back together, don't you?"
Xing Yi laughed. "The wedding apartment's already fully renovated, for God's sake."
The two of them stood off to the side chatting warmly. Song Qiuhan watched Luan Nian's face and noticed it was blank. He posted in the group chat: "There's something I don't get."
"What?"
"Does Director Luan even like his little Taotao or not?" He snapped a photo of Luan Nian and dropped it in the chat. Among friends, needling each other was half the fun. "Can't tell if he's heartbroken or just numb to it all."
"Honestly, I keep thinking I've seen this girl before," Tan Mian said.
"You probably have. She used to work at Lingmei." Song Qiuhan had spent the last couple of days piecing together the whole story between Luan Nian and Shang Zhitao.
"?"
"Missed your chance to meet Director Luan's mystery number, huh?" Chen Kuannian teased them. "None of you have any game. Tell you what, I'll go do a little reconnaissance."
The group chat filled with laughter. Luan Nian didn't so much as glance at his phone, too absorbed in the music.
Shang Zhitao came back and sat down. The others had left her only the seat on the loveseat beside Luan Nian. She didn't make a fuss about it, just sat down next to him. The cushion dipped when she sat, and she shifted slightly to the side, putting a little distance between them.
"I still remember Luke singing at the annual party years ago! So handsome! I said back then I'd never seen a guy that good-looking! Give us another one tonight!" Lumi egged him on. Luan Nian didn't move, as though he hadn't heard.
"Feels like it's been forever since I sang too. Come on." Song Qiuhan stood up. "Let's do one together." He tried to pull Luan Nian in.
"No." Luan Nian had no interest in moving. Performing at the annual party had been forced on him. He wasn't in the mood for it now.
Song Qiuhan struck a begging pose. Only the four of them ever dared treat Luan Nian this way. Chen Kuannian had just started a separate chat, saying he wanted to coach Luan Nian on turning his mystery number into a regular contact, and had given Song Qiuhan the job of helping Luan Nian show off his charm.
"A guy like Luan Nian," Tan Mian said, "his tools have sat unused so long, who knows if they've rusted shut."
Luan Nian went up and picked up a guitar. Song Qiuhan grabbed another. The friends played together often enough and had a fair number of songs down.
"What should we sing?" Song Qiuhan asked.
"Whatever."
"'You're Beautiful'?"
"Fine."
"This one's for all our client friends here tonight," Luan Nian said.
I saw your face in a crowded place... on that line, his eyes met Shang Zhitao's. Just for a second. Then she looked away.
In the years when things had been hardest, Luan Nian used to fly to Ice City. Sometimes he'd just sit on some random street corner for a while and fly back. He didn't think of himself as a particularly devoted man, only that during the years he'd been with Shang Zhitao, years that were never especially intense, the feeling had seeped in slowly. Right around the time he felt his whole self, body and mind, belonged to her, she had walked away.
Luan Nian felt he had hurt her, and that she had hurt him too.
It was the following night. They were staying in Snow Village. Snow everywhere, clean, cold, cutting. He sent her a message: "Come out. I'm waiting for you on the path ahead."
Shang Zhitao saw the message but didn't move for a long while. She knew this meeting had been unavoidable, and she knew Luan Nian well enough to know he would insist on talking to her. He would want to know why she'd sold the gifts he'd given her, and he would be angry that she'd left without a word.
Shang Zhitao knew perfectly well that during those six years, Luan Nian had given of himself sincerely too. She remembered the fight he'd gotten into for her sake, the impulsive trip they'd once taken together, how well he'd treated Luke.
But that was how being together had been. Even with moments of brief sweetness like that, most of the time they hadn't been happy. For those years, Shang Zhitao had lived shrouded in fog where love was concerned, hesitant, indecisive, holding out hope one moment and dousing herself with cold water the next. She never wanted to go back to being pulled back and forth like that again.
Through the window she saw the end of the path, where Luan Nian stood beneath a lantern. Snow Village was already cold. He looked colder still.
Shang Zhitao sighed, finally got dressed, and walked out.
Her feet crunched in the snow. The cold in Snow Village froze people's mouths shut. No birds, no sound of any kind. It was too cold. The cold had put everything into deep freeze.
Including all of that past.