Chapter 62: Love Square
In the restaurant, Wen Bairan didn't immediately recognize the person sitting across from her with dramatic cut-crease makeup.
"...Ms. Xu?"
Xu Lanjun raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Fancy meeting you here."
Wen Bairan: "......"
It was no wonder she was surprised. Xu Lanjun’s true private appearance was completely different from her work persona. Especially after Guang Peiliang left Shenjiang, she had begun to let her true self out.
Short hair, leather boots, a dashing motorcycle jacket. It had only been a few days, but she even had a streak of blue highlights in her hair. Her hair was swept back behind her ear, revealing the left side, where four tiny star-shaped studs started from the tip and led down to a crescent diamond nestled in the conch, followed by a row of smaller diamonds. The cross hanging from her earlobe was actually the most understated.
A quick count showed she had twelve ear piercings in total...
Wow... that's brave.
She hooked her sunglasses onto her collar. "What would you like to eat? My treat today. By the way, have you recovered from your cold?"
Wen Bairan was still staring at that row of rebellious ear studs, thinking her own pain tolerance had only allowed her to get one pair of piercings. Xu Lanjun’s twelve holes truly made her a heroine among women.
For a moment, she didn’t quite catch what was said.
"Um... anything is fine."
Xu Lanjun glanced at her, unfazed by her astonishment or seeming rudeness. She beckoned the server for a menu, crossed her legs, and leaned back—her posture far more relaxed and carefree than when elders were present.
After ordering a few light dishes, she waited until the server left before cutting straight to the point: "Zhou Lin has been discharged from the hospital. He asked me to let you know."
Wen Bairan paused slightly. "Okay, thanks for telling me."
Xu Lanjun had been visiting the hospital a lot lately. She said frankly, "I know about you and Zhou Lin, too. Oh, and Song Xu. I got the gist of your current situation from Xiang Sun."
Bringing up two key people at once, Wen Bairan snapped to attention, sensing she had more to say.
"Did you want to talk to me about something, Ms. Xu?"
"Since we’re acquainted, you don't have to call me Ms. Xu. If you don’t mind me being a few years older, you can call me Lanjun or Sister Lanjun—whichever you prefer."
Wen Bairan said, "Sister Lanjun."
Xu Lanjun was straightforward. Though older, she had no intention of pulling rank or acting superior due to age. Being called "sister" actually made her a little embarrassed. She touched her ear. "You’re being so polite, it makes it a little awkward for me to say what comes next."
Her candid demeanor was quite endearing. Perhaps from seeing Zhou Lin frequently lately, she'd even picked up some of his mannerisms.
Wen Bairan relaxed and smiled faintly. "Please speak freely, Sister Lanjun."
Xu Lanjun pursed her lips. She had thought Wen Bairan, with her delicate, soft beauty, would be more roundabout in nature, but she was just as direct. Well, in that case, she wouldn’t beat around the bush either.
"Then I’ll be blunt. Well, I really like Zhou Lin."
"Of course, Song Xu is great too."
"One is your ex-boyfriend, the other is your current boyfriend. Coincidentally, I’ve got my eye on both of them."
She paused, narrowing her eyes with a smile as if waiting to see Wen Bairan’s reaction.
But Wen Bairan seemed like she was expecting this all along. She didn't bat an eye. She softly replied, "Mhm."
Her composure actually made Xu Lanjun a little surprised. "Don’t you have anything to say?"
What was there to say?
Wen Bairan thought for a moment, then asked what it was she liked about them?
That was an easy question.
Xu Lanjun had known Zhou Lin first and had always had a good impression of him. The young master’s refined appearance was secondary; mainly, his playful personality was her type. Plus, a man’s vulnerability and fragility easily stirred the maternal instinct deep within a woman. That night in the hospital ward, Zhou Lin turning away in such a fragile state had made Xu Lanjun's heart ache every time she saw him since. She really wanted to take good care of him.
As for Song Xu, he wasn’t the same type as Zhou Lin. He was too formidable, calm and sharp as a blade. The tension of a standoff between equals had its own unique flavor. Besides, Guang Peiliang had originally intended for her to meet Song Xu through a blind date anyway.
She held her hands out and admitted frankly, "I know your current relationship is complicated, but it’s not like you’re married or engaged yet. We’re all adults—we should understand that being single isn’t a crime, right? Well, I’m saying all this not to demand you immediately give anyone up or choose someone. I’m just giving you a heads-up in advance: let’s compete fairly. In the end, how you choose; how I choose; how they choose—or even if no one ends up choosing anyone—who can say for sure?"
Wen Bairan looked up at Xu Lanjun’s still carefree expression as she spoke these words, moved by her candor. A subtle sense of resonance arose within her toward Xu Lanjun.
Xu Lanjun didn’t fit the mainstream definition of a thirty-five-year-old woman. She remained unmarried and, though successful in her career, inevitably faced family pressure. The meddling and ambiguous comments from relatives and friends could be quite annoying at times.
She said her family demanded she marry within this year.
It seemed that upon reaching a certain stage in life, these issues suddenly emerged: family crises, marriage crises, career crises, health crises. Everyone’s life challenges were different. Even if you were immensely wealthy or stunningly beautiful, heaven was fair to all.
But the year was almost over. Wen Bairan asked what she planned to do?
Xu Lanjun folded her arms and said her magazine had a year-end collaboration with Cornell University. She had already obtained a visa and planned to go check out the situation. If the battle at home grew too intense, she might not return.
She wasn’t against marriage in principle—she just refused to hastily settle for just anyone.
Coincidentally, she enjoyed romance and loved challenging, high-difficulty relationships even more.
Narrowing her eyes, she issued a challenge to Wen Bairan: "Guess, when the time comes, will I take Zhou Lin or Song Xu with me?"
Wen Bairan halted.
She suddenly felt Xu Lanjun gave off a similar vibe as Ms. Xie.
They weren’t extreme or impulsive, nor were they influenced by conventional views. No matter how the outside world criticized, they always marched to their own beat.
And the reason they could do this was simply because they clearly knew what they wanted and what they could grasp.
People often easily became confused about these matters.
Unclear of their own position,
Wanting more even after obtaining, desiring further even after having.
Blind optimism was confusion.
Excessive clarity was pessimism.
The balance between them was too difficult to grasp. Wen Bairan couldn’t say for sure what direction the future would take.
She borrowed Xu Lanjun’s earlier words: "Or perhaps you won’t take either?"
She hadn’t meant to create a tense, confrontational atmosphere, but her words brought a meaningful silence.
The look in Xu Lanjun’s eyes deepened gradually. Her dramatic eye makeup couldn’t conceal her appreciation for Wen Bairan. "Zhou Lin said you were indifferent to worldly affairs. But among those in the world, how many are truly contention-free? Compared to that, I prefer your current attitude of facing challenges head-on. This is a positive outlook on life."
Wen Bairan hadn’t expected such high praise and felt somewhat apprehensive. "I didn’t mean I want to compete with you over anything. What I meant was......"
Xu Lanjun interrupted her, "No need to say the rest—it would sound hypocritical."
Wen Bairan was speechless.
"Anyway, since you call me 'sister,' we’re friends from now on."
"This is my first time fighting over a man, so it feels a bit awkward. Although the winner isn’t decided yet, I’ve prepared a little compensation for you."
As she spoke, she smiled.
Wen Bairan stared in bewilderment at her mysterious smile, blinking in confusion.
//
Lately, the atmosphere in the company had been a bit strange.
Although everyone still came and went to work as usual, Song Xu had been stopping by her office way more often.
They were all trivial matters that could have been handled over the phone.
Yet he insisted on coming to her.
The way colleagues looked at her grew increasingly odd.
Qiao Yi said it was because she hadn’t accepted his proposal, and he was feeling unbalanced—just trying to make himself noticed.
Wen Bairan: ...
But this was Song Xu.
Who in the company could possibly stand out more than him?
She was more inclined to think he had something else to discuss with her.
The day before yesterday, Xu Lanjun had set up a feature with the company. Xiang Sun complained that she hadn’t given advance notice—he only had time to style his hair, with no opportunity to get a bespoke suit. Song Xu didn’t prepare anything special, yet the photographer Xu Lanjun brought along seemed especially keen on photographing him.
Xiang Sun, feeling sidelined, said snidely that if you didn’t know better, you’d think it was a science magazine feature, but if you didn’t, you might assume he was shooting a fashion spread.
Hearing this, Qiao Yi had a sudden brainstorm: why not take this opportunity to also get headshots done for all mid-level and above employees? But since she wasn’t familiar with Xu Lanjun, she suggested Xiang Sun call in the favor. Annoyed at being overlooked, Xiang Sun pushed the task to Song Xu.
"He’s the one her family hand-picked as her *xiangqin* match—he’s the most suitable to talk to Xu Lanjun."
In the breakroom, Wen Bairan was sipping her oatmeal, blowing on the steaming cup. The rising heat fogged up her vision, making it hard to discern her expression.
Seeing her lack of reaction, Xiang Sun continued stirring the pot: "Hey, Director Wen, how come I haven’t seen Song Xu in your office today? Oh, right—I remember, he seems to be helping Xu Lanjun with something. Ah, don’t you think those two might actually get together?"
His attempt to start drama couldn’t have been more obvious.
Qiao Yi, listening nearby, rolled her eyes: "...You’re so messy."
Xiang Sun snorted—serve them right for not taking his photos properly.
Wen Bairan pretended not to hear them and turned to walk past. Xiang Sun didn’t notice her approach, and as she brushed by, his foot couldn’t move aside in time—her nearly 10-centimeter heel came down hard on his big toe.
"Ow—!"
A howl of pain immediately erupted in the breakroom.
The woman at the doorway stopped and looked back.
In a light, almost indifferent voice, she said, "Sorry, Mr. Xiang," not sounding sorry at all.
Xiang Sun had no idea she could be so savage. His face flushed red instantly: "You... you—!"
Qiao Yi laughed so hard she almost doubled over. "Hahaha, that’s what you get for running your mouth!"
She stuck out her tongue and hurried out after Wen Bairan.
Leaving Xiang Sun alone in the breakroom, stomping his foot: "This is insubordination! You’re all rebelling! Just who is the boss here?—"
Outside the breakroom.
Qiao Yi caught up and linked arms with Wen Bairan, wearing a knowing look. "So, feeling better now?"
Wen Bairan replied calmly, "It was an accident."
Qiao Yi said, "Come on, no need to pretend around me. You obviously care about Song Xu."
Wen Bairan said softly that she didn’t—it was just that she wondered if this wandering eye in men was something they couldn’t ever shed. No matter how devoted they seemed one moment, the next they could look at someone else the same way. If marriage laws can’t even keep them committed to the family, then dating is even less reliable.
Qiao Yi teased her, "Still saying you don’t care? You sound even more bitter than Xiang Sun—so bitter you could taste it!"
...Wen Bairan had no energy to argue. The more she said, the more mistakes she’d make—better to just keep quiet.
Back in the office, Qiao Yi sat in the new massage chair that had recently appeared in the corner, marveling at how comfortable it was—it even offered massages. Perfect for a quick massage when tired from desk work, instantly re-energizing.
Wen Bairan recalled that when Song Xu had someone install the chair yesterday, he’d said the same thing—telling her to rest whenever she felt tired.
She’d been surprised he actually cared enough to check in.
But then again, he was a gentleman. Aloof as he might be, he was good at reading people—it was just a matter of whether he wanted to do it or not.
Like today, he went to attend to Xu Lanjun.
It had only been a week since she last saw Xu Lanjun.
'Guess who I’ll take away in the end—Zhou Lin or Song Xu?'
...
Looking at it now, it was looking like Song Xu.
But if he left, what would happen to the company?
Wen Bairan stirred her oatmeal absently, her thoughts drifting who knows where.
After enjoying the massage chair for a while, Qiao Yi asked where she’d bought it—massage chairs weren’t cheap these days. "Didn’t Song Xu give you a big bonus from the last project?"
Wen Bairan snapped out of it and said, "More than just the bonus."
The white Audi Song Xu gave her for her birthday was also expensed through the company.
Back then, when Zhou Lin gave her a bag worth 40,000, she took it as an insult.
She was an intern who’d been there less than three months, earning 4,000 a month, fighting her way onto the subway every day. Carrying a 40,000-yuan bag to work—what if it got scratched on the way? Would she have to take a taxi just for the bag? If colleagues asked whether it was real, how should she answer? Even if she told the truth, would anyone believe her?
When Zhou Lin later found out she’d kept the bag tucked away at home, carefully wrapped in multiple layers of paper, he got angry and said he’d never give her gifts again.
At the time, Wen Bairan didn’t understand what she’d done wrong. It was only later, after she’d saved some money and her salary increased, that she started to understand why Zhou Lin had been upset.
Luxury items were just normal everyday items to him.
Imagine a boyfriend hiding the everyday items gifted by his girlfriend in a cabinet, wrapped in layers of paper, terrified someone might figure out what it was. Wouldn’t the girlfriend’s first reaction be: Why hide it? Is this thing worth such secrecy, tucked away so deeply—is it disdain for the gift or does he look down on it?
Later, she realized this line of thinking wasn’t right either. Zhou Lin wasn’t the type to be petty about something like that with her; he simply couldn’t understand why someone he cherished refused to treat herself well.
In his eyes, since Wen Bairan was with him, she naturally deserved the finest things in the world.
But she didn’t see it that way. She always felt that accepting these lavish material comforts from him meant compromise and selling out.
Ultimately, it was because they were too young back then. The difference in their backgrounds became increasingly apparent after leaving campus. Insecurity battered her pride, and a deep-seated feeling she wasn't good enough was the root of all her anxieties.
But now, things were different. Wen Bairan no longer struggled with thoughts of whether she was "worthy" or not. Plus, Song Xu was persuasive. She often had field assignments now, and not having a car was genuinely inconvenient. Moreover, he said it was a reward for Project Backlight.
You don't get something for nothing—but since she had merit, she could accept it.
Thinking this way, it seemed she still viewed Song Xu as her boss.
But now, his role should probably be... her boyfriend?
......She still wasn’t quite used to this situation.
She really couldn’t tell whether her perception of the relationship’s shift was too slow or his attitude was too ambiguous.
Were they really together?
Sigh.
What a headache.
She didn't want to think about it.
Wen Bairan rubbed her temples and suddenly remembered Qiao Yi. "Let’s have dinner together tonight, maybe catch a movie? You don’t have a date, do you?"
Hearing someone else was treating, Qiao Yi eagerly agreed. "You rarely invite me out—even if I had a date, I’d cancel it. Let’s go, let’s go now."
"Isn’t it too early? There are still two hours until the end of the workday," Wen Bairan glanced at the time; she still had some work to finish. "Let’s wait until after work."
Qiao Yi said she’d go back first and check what movies were showing lately.
Wen Bairan said okay.
Two hours flew by.
Wen Bairan shut down her computer and got off work. Qiao Yi was already raring to go.
"I found out *Titanic* is being re-released, remastered in HD and everything—let’s watch that!"
Wen Bairan: "?"
"Shouldn’t you save a movie like that to watch with Ye Zhe?"
Qiao Yi: "Pfft, watching a movie with a guy is totally different than with your girls. If he went, how could I freely critique Jack? I’d be stuck fake-crying the whole time."
Wen Bairan admired how Qiao Yi could always put it so bluntly yet classily. She said fine, then let’s go see whether Jack really deserved to die or not.
The elevator descended to the first floor. The liberated office workers surged out like fry released from a sluice gate into a pond, all rushing home.
Outside the building, the stream of people instinctively parted around the person and car parked in the center of the plaza.
Right then, her phone rang in her bag. Wen Bairan looked down to find it.
But she heard Qiao Yi let out a low gasp beside her: "Damn!"
"?"
Confused, she looked up. Not far away stood a man in an ankle-length coat, with a model’s height and build—broad shoulders, long legs, a white shirt and black vest. Under the collar, a silver-patterned tie seemed to hint at restrained desire. The prominence of his Adam’s apple was unintentionally alluring.
His sharp jawline, thin lips, and the precise proportion of his nose bridge—even his narrow, keen eyelids seemed perfectly sculpted. The cool look in his long eyes dispersed all the stunned or curious glances around him.
He seemed to be waiting for someone.
Noticing her gaze, his intense dark eyes turned toward her, and his body shifted in her direction.
In the chilly evening breeze, a hint of warmth flickered in his eyes.
It looked like... he was waiting for her?
Wen Bairan’s heart skipped a beat.
Qiao Yi’s breathless voice sounded like she was about to faint. "Oh my god, he’s so handsome it makes me want to die..."
In a daze, she and Qiao Yi supported each other as they walked toward him.
When they reached him, she suddenly didn’t know where to look. Her eyes darted around before noticing he’d changed cars again.
A dark purple Maserati.
The iconic trident emblem on the grille was unmistakable.
How was he so rich?
Wen Bairan was still wondering what happened to his other two cars when Qiao Yi, trembling, spoke up: "President Song..."
"Hello," Song Xu said, his voice calm.
His voice was so smooth it was intoxicating.
Qiao Yi instantly sucked in a sharp breath.
Damn, how had she never noticed how utterly sublime he was when she was his secretary?!
Truly, the evils of capitalism blind people.
Wen Bairan also spoke up. "Pr-President Song."
She’d almost said "Song Xu" instinctively but caught herself—luckily, it wasn’t too obvious.
Song Xu glanced at her, his long lashes lowering slightly as he took his hand out of his pocket.
Wen Bairan reflexively held out her hand.
A car key.
It was engraved with the same trident emblem as the car behind him, still warm from his pocket.
This was...?
Wen Bairan was too shocked to speak. "......"
The corner of Song Xu’s lips lifted as he uttered two words lightly: "For you."