Chapter 6: The Next Day
What Song Xu meant by "it wasn’t over yet," Wen Bairan didn’t know.
Nor did she want to know.
During the lunch break, Ying Jie invited her to visit their workplace, and Chen Zhigao took them out to eat at a nearby restaurant.
Song Xu texted to ask when she’d be done, but Wen Bairan was already in Chen Zhigao’s car.
[Wen Bairan]: It’s over. I’m meeting a new client.
That morning in the car, Song Xu had said transferring her to the first team wasn’t favoritism—he valued her ability and told her not to feel burdened. Even without last night, she would have received the transfer notice from HR by noon.
He spoke without expression, his profile as he clenched a cigarette stern, his glance at her critical.
“You’re not a woman who’ll do anything to get ahead, and I’m not some horny animal.”
Everyone has urges, but the adult world is bigger than that, and some things always come before those desires.
As for what those things were, it depended on what she valued.
Your pride or your career—he let her choose.
Wen Bairan was almost convinced.
He was right. As long as she was clear about what she wanted, why should she be swayed by a fleeting fling?
From school to society, whether in studies or work, she had always been at the top of her game. Since she had the ability to handle Dayun’s case and wanted to do it, she had no reason to refuse.
But she kept all this to herself, not showing it.
Song Xu gave her a day to think it over.
Before midnight tonight, whether to accept his proposal—he’d wait for her answer.
Now, with twelve hours left until midnight, since he thought so highly of her, she might as well seize this chance to drum up some new business. Surely Song Xu wouldn’t object.
Sure enough.
He didn’t contact her again.
Wen Bairan bought a bullet train ticket back to Shenjiang on her phone, prepared to leave alone after the meeting.
During the meal, Ying Jie asked about her boss, who hadn’t been seen for two days.
“By the way, where’s the boss who came with you? You said this morning you were coming together, but I didn’t see him.”
Wen Bairan set down her phone and said lightly, “He’s with a client.”
“Again?” Ying Jie marveled. “Foreign company execs are something else. You’re only here for two days on this trip, and you’ve packed your schedule so tight—meeting clients from yesterday till today. Sheesh, if you guys aren’t making money, who is?”
Ying Jie’s workplace was an ordinary private Level 2A hospital, formerly the company hospital of Xixiang Automobile Factory. It was currently pushing for an upgrade to third-tier and was already building a new inpatient wing, hence the need to update equipment.
The situation for private hospitals wasn’t as good as in previous years. Aside from the top-tier ones focusing on high-end medical services, the rest were struggling. Earlier, some unqualified outfits had tarnished the industry’s reputation, eroding public trust and damaging the concept of private healthcare. Because Ying Jie’s hospital had originated as a company hospital, its reputation and patient base were stable for now, but with its non-profit slogan, making money was out of the question.
For two months in a row, she’d only received her base pay, joking that every day at work was like adding bricks and tiles to the new building.
Between the lines, she envied Wen Bairan’s glamorous life at a foreign company, but if asked to move to Shenjiang, she’d refuse. After all, there was a sense of belonging in her hometown. She said she had no grand ambitions and was destined to be a big fish in a small pond.
Wen Bairan comforted her, “Stability has its perks, and the outside world has its hardships. Especially when you’re away—food, clothing, housing, transportation—everything costs money. It might seem like you earn more, but after factoring in rent and utilities, it often doesn’t offer the same freedom and comfort as staying here.”
Her words struck a chord with Ying Jie, whose face lit up. “Right? I always say there’s no place like home, even if it’s a dump. Now, whenever I get home, my mom has dinner ready for me. It’s pretty nice.”
Wen Bairan smiled. “Yeah, I’m envious.”
They say people’s vibes naturally attract those who resonate with them. From the first moment Ying Jie saw Wen Bairan, she’d felt a strong liking for her. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also really down-to-earth. Her slightly wavy long hair had a faint chestnut sheen in the sunlight, and her voice was soft yet firm, with a resilient toughness. After spending these two days together, she was indeed as approachable as Ying Jie had sensed.
If Wen Bairan weren’t returning to Shenjiang that evening, Ying Jie would have loved to invite her to stay at her place for the night.
Chen Zhigao sat quietly across from them, listening to the two women chat and laugh like old friends, occasionally refilling their soups and serving dishes, as silent as the cold air in the restaurant.
He was usually a quiet type at work, but he’d finally taken a liking to Wen Bairan. On the ride back yesterday, he’d suggested Ying Jie make a group chat and add him, subtly hinting at wanting Wen Bairan’s contact info. But now, here she was leaving that afternoon, and he hadn’t said a word.
Ying Jie excused herself to the restroom to text Chen Zhigao, reminding him to make some small talk—she was a guest from afar, and he shouldn’t leave her out. But when she returned, Chen Zhigao finally managed his first sentence of the day.
“What client is your leader meeting today?”
Ying Jie almost died right there.
Dude, I told you to make conversation, not conduct a debriefing!
And even if you’re inspecting work, why inspect her leader’s work? Who do you think you are?!
I can’t even.
Mortified, she sat down covering her forehead.
Luckily, Wen Bairan was chill and didn’t take it as an offense, politely replying, “An old client. They’re having a ribbon-cutting for their new hospital today.”
“Ribbon-cutting for a new hospital? Xirui?” Ying Jie perked up. “Xirui is the biggest private hospital around here. Their new building looks like a banquet hall.”
Xixiang was a third-tier city, small but famous for its landscapes, a tourist attraction in the area. Aside from the annual tourists, the local population was only about four million. But when Xirui built a hospital here, they invested 400 million in one go, which made waves.
On her way, Wen Bairan had done some research. Xirui’s boss was backed by Dayun, so their lavish spending made sense.
Ying Jie also shared some inside scoop: “I heard Xirui’s boss even bought land in the suburbs to build a golf course. Our vice president is at their beck and call every time he gets a call from their CEO, rushing over at the drop of a hat.”
“Is that so?” Wen Bairan wasn’t too surprised. She recalled what Song Xu was wearing today—it really did look like he was prepared for golf.
Of course.
He was a real operator, to put it bluntly, all about the bottom line, and never did anything without a purpose.
Thinking this way, his proposal seemed a bit more credible.
The noon hours flew by, and the afternoon meeting had nothing important.
Wen Bairan estimated when Song Xu might finish and switched her high-speed train ticket for 4 p.m., so she would get into Shenjiang around 6:30.
She didn’t head home right away.
Ke Shumin had asked her to meet for dinner at a restaurant on Xieli Commercial Road.
Wen Bairan wasn’t sweating it at all that Ke Shumin would warn Zhou Lin or bring him along. If Ke Shumin did that, both she and Zhou Lin would be cut off, and Ke Shumin would never again be considered Wen Bairan’s friend.
Ke Shumin knew how she could get and couldn’t help sighing that she and Zhou Lin were so much alike—both unreasonably stubborn and stubborn in a way that it drove people crazy.
When the two met, there was no small talk. They cut to the chase.
“Is this for real?”
If she remembered correctly, this was the second time Ke Shumin had asked her this question.
Wen Bairan took a sip of coffee. “Yes,” she murmured.
Ke Shumin and Wen Bairan had been college roommates. From freshman year to now, Ke Shumin had seen every up and down of Zhou Lin’s relationship with her. She knew well that Wen Bairan wasn’t the type to beat around the bush. In the past, though there had been plenty of arguments, someone as calm as her had also had moments of lashing out—but that was only because she hadn’t let go yet.
But like this? It was a first.
Calm, detached, completely flat.
Wen Bairan answered without the slightest hesitation, so final it left no room for argument.
For a moment, Ke Shumin believed her, but soon shook her head and laughed. “Alright then, let’s see how long this ‘serious’ lasts.”
It wasn’t that she doubted her—it was just that she’d seen Wen Bairan’s back as she silently wept, and she’d run into her just after a fight with Zhou Lin downstairs at the dorm, turning to go upstairs with a resolve as cold as ice. Ke Shumin had thought then too they were definitely breaking up. But in the end, they still ended up together for eight years, didn't they?
No matter what Wen Bairan said, as long as she was still willing to talk, it proved Zhou Lin still meant something to her.
Ke Shumin tried to persuade her. “You’re not getting any younger, why are you still acting like a teenager who doesn’t know what’s important? Zhou Lin told me himself—he’s only met Xiao Zimei twice, they haven’t even touched—”
“I have.”
“You have what? With Xiao Zimei? Ah, I’m telling you, Xiao Zimei, she—” Ke Shumin’s words suddenly cut off, strangled in her throat.
She stared at Wen Bairan in shock, her mouth hanging open wider and wider, her voice trembling with disbelief. “You… slept with who?”
Wen Bairan calmly set down her coffee cup. Her heart-stoppingly beautiful face was calm and pale, like a cloud that parts to reveal only empty sky. “Tell Zhou Lin he doesn’t need to look for me anymore. There’s no going back for us.”
/
After saying goodbye to Ke Shumin, Wen Bairan returned to Lingang Bay.
This apartment was something she’d saved up to buy after starting work.
A small 40-square-meter loft.
Compared to Zhou Lin’s luxury apartment, her place was like a shoebox.
This kind of commercial-residential building wasn’t much for a down payment. Back then, she’d borrowed a bit from her family and managed to cover it.
Zhou Lin hadn’t approved of her taking out a loan—he could’ve bought her a whole floor with a wave of his hand. But Wen Bairan had insisted. She wanted to buy it herself. With her own money, under her own name, making her own payments.
Back then, Zhou Lin had just helped her move the sofa upstairs and was resting against the railing, his hands braced behind him. In the sweltering summer heat, the spoiled young master even sweated like crystal.
He looked at her lazily and let out a soft laugh. “Keeping score with me?”
It sounded like a joke.
He must have picked up on it even back then.
That they would break up.
Sooner or later.
Wen Bairan was so grateful.
Grateful for the decision she’d made then, and the one she was making now.
The apartment was on the 39th floor, unit 3901.
She entered and closed the door.
Her hand had just touched the light switch when a dark figure moved in the shadows.
Wen Bairan was slammed against the door, her jaw gripped firmly and tilted up. The cool air that rushed into her lungs carried the scent of men’s luxury cologne. His fierce kiss swallowed her muffled protest.
A sharp pain shot through her back, and she instinctively clenched her teeth. But when she opened her eyes, she saw the captivated look in the man’s eyes before her, and her heart suddenly ached as if stabbed by a needle.
Zhou Lin pressed his thumb harder against her cheek, forcing her mouth open. The next second, his nimble tongue skillfully slipped into her mouth. He used one leg to press against her knee, parting them from bottom to top, then pressed his body firmly against hers.
Feeling the burning heat below him against her lower abdomen, Wen Bairan snapped back to reality. Her hand, resting on the light switch, slammed down.
Click.
Light flooded the room.
“Zhou Lin!” she gasped, breath ragged, her rising and falling chest bumping against him.
The man pulled back reluctantly.
Wen Bairan turned her head to the side, avoiding his downward gaze.
The full wall of display cabinets opposite reflected their overlapping figures. Her curled lashes lowered into the light refracted by the glass window, tiny starbursts shimmering at the corners of her eyes. Her beauty was quiet, unassuming—one downward glance, and you’d be drawn into her gentle calm.
His index finger lovingly stroked the red mark on her cheek. Zhou Lin’s hoarse voice wrenched at Wen Bairan’s heart. “You didn’t even come to see me on my birthday, Wen Bairan. Don’t you love me anymore?”