Chapter 6

A week had passed.

On Friday, after two morning professional classes and an afternoon general course, Chu Tong went to the cafeteria and packed some easy-to-carry seaweed rice rolls, then hurried to her tutoring student’s home.

The destination was on the North Third Ring Road, in a residential complex called Golden Creek Garden—mid-range large apartments in Haidian District, where land is extremely valuable and now costs 120,000 yuan per square meter.

Chu Tong pressed the doorbell under the building’s entrance and waited for about half a minute before the door popped open. She pushed inside, took the elevator upstairs, and rang the doorbell again in front of the apartment.

A voice answered from inside.

The door was opened by a middle-aged aunt dressed in a domestic worker’s uniform, wearing a simple, friendly smile. “Please come in. The young lady just told me the tutor was coming—is that you?”

Chu Tong nodded. “Yes, hello.”

“Oh, please come in. The parents aren’t home; she’s in her bedroom.”

Because of their busy work schedules, the parents were rarely home during tutoring sessions. This part-time job had lasted three months, and Chu Tong had only met the mother twice; she had yet to see the father.

The apartment had a square three-bedroom, two-living-room layout. After entering through the foyer, there was the dining room. Worried that her seaweed rice rolls might have a smell, Chu Tong placed her package on a dining chair and then went to the girl’s bedroom, knocking gently. “Youran, your teacher is here.”

“Come in!”

The girl’s name was Youran Zhan. She was a junior high student at an international school. She had just finished classes and took the subway home. She was tidying her backpack and gear, as she had a baseball lesson later.

Chu Tong’s tutoring was quite relaxed. The Zhan family hadn’t hired her to improve grades but to cultivate Youran’s temperament, having her read ancient poetry and appreciate the beauty of traditional culture.

Chu Tong updated the teaching plan every two weeks, confirmed it with Youran’s mother, and then proceeded systematically.

Today’s lesson was on the “Chu Ci” anthology—reading, appreciating, and reciting it. The hour passed quickly.

Youran ran to the dining room, opened the fridge, and brought Chu Tong two bottles of drinks, handing one over. “Teacher, have some water.”

At that moment, the cleaning aunt finished her work and knocked on the door, smiling at Youran. “Hello, the cleaning is done. The fridge is stocked with fresh vegetables and fruits. The freezer has beef tenderloin and pork ribs. Please check.”

Youran said, “No need to check.”

“All right, I’ll come again next Friday.”

“Thank you, take care.”

“Okay.”

Chu Tong took a few sips of drink, then took down the schedule posted on the wall with magnetic stickers and jotted a few notes. “I’ve recorded it on the schedule. Remember to review it when you have time. I’ll quiz you next time.”

“Okay,” Youran sat on the bed, swinging her legs with a smile. “Teacher Chu, do you know why my mom chose you out of so many applicants?”

“Hm? Why?”

“Because you’re pretty! And you have a good temperament!” Youran’s eyes sparkled. “Mom wants me to develop that too.”

Chu Tong smiled. “I see.”

She glanced at her phone; it was almost mealtime. “Want me to order takeout? McDonald’s?”

“Not today. The aunt made food this morning. I’ll just heat it up later.”

“All right.”

“Come on, teacher, eat with me.”

Youran took a lunchbox from the fridge’s fresh-keeping compartment and put it in the microwave. Chu Tong took out her packed seaweed rice rolls from her bag. The two sat across from each other in the dining room, eating.

“Teacher Chu, where do you plan to go for vacation this winter?”

“I… don’t know yet, maybe back home. What about you?”

“I’m going to the U.S. with my parents,” Youran’s expression was complicated—both hopeful and worried. “They said we’ll tour the West Coast and also look at suitable schools and host families.”

“Are they planning to send you to high school in the U.S.?”

“Yes,” Youran shook her head. “I’m a bit reluctant.”

The Zhan family was a typical new middle-class family in the capital. Both parents were nearly forty, had bought their home early during the housing slump over ten years ago, both worked high-paying jobs, and hoped their child would climb into the elite class, so had long planned ahead.

“You can just check it out, get some exposure, and then decide.”

“My mom says the same.”

After finishing the meal, Chu Tong threw away her food trash and Youran’s leftovers together, sealed the bag, and placed it by the entrance, replacing it with a new one.

After finishing, she asked, “Youran, do you still have baseball class? Want me to walk you to the subway station?”

Youran’s mother paid Chu Tong 400 yuan per hour, slightly above market rate, mainly for these extra services: ordering takeout, eating dinner together, accompanying the child to the subway station, and so on.

“No need. Dad’s coming home and will drive me to the training ground.”

“All right.” Chu Tong returned to Youran’s room and tidied the desk. “I’m leaving now. If you have any questions, write them down. I’ll ask you when I come Monday.”

“Wait, teacher, help me with my clothes.”

Youran was changing into sportswear. The jacket zipper was stuck.

Chu Tong knelt down to help her fix it.

While doing so, faint sounds of the door opening came, followed by a male voice: “Youran, Dad’s home.”

Youran looked up and replied, “Dad, I’m in my room.”

Footsteps approached, and the man said while walking, “Ready to go?”

Chu Tong sensed someone standing at the door and quickly stood, turning to nod slightly. “Hello, I’m Youran’s tutor. I’ll leave soon.”

“You’re helping me with the zipper,” Youran smiled at her father.

The father nodded slightly at Chu Tong.

Chu Tong felt his gaze lingering on her, appraising from head to toe.

An uneasy feeling crept up inside her. After finally fixing the zipper, she grabbed her bag from the desk without looking up. “Youran, goodbye.”

At the bedroom door, the man didn’t step aside immediately.

Chu Tong had to look up at him.

He was an ordinary middle-aged man, about forty, with a slightly receding hairline, average build, wearing a hoodie under a windbreaker, jeans, and sneakers.

Chu Tong nodded again. “Goodbye.”

Only then did the father move aside and ask, “Which school are you from?”

“...University A.”

“What a coincidence, I graduated from University A’s Computer Science Department.”

Chu Tong felt his gaze follow her with a strongly suggestive appraisal. She quickened her pace without showing it, walked to the entrance to change shoes, and leaned one hand on the wall.

“Coincidentally, Youran and I are heading out too. I can give you a ride.”

Before she could reply, Youran said, “Yes, yes!”

“No trouble, I just need to take the subway three stops.”

Chu Tong finished changing shoes and smiled politely. “Then I’ll leave first.”

“Wait,” the father called after her. “When’s the next class?”

“...Monday.”

“All right, see you then.”

“Goodbye.”

After that, Chu Tong picked up the kitchen waste bag by the entrance and left.

On the subway back to school, she received a message from the senior who had previously assisted Chen Xizhen; she said she had finished her personal affairs and was back to handle the video editing.

Chu Tong replied, “Okay.”

“Senior: Sorry to trouble you these past days. Everything’s fine, right?”

“Chu Tong: No trouble. All good.”

Then she remembered she hadn’t returned Mr. Shao’s copy of the “Collected Works of Lü Bicheng” to Professor Chen.

The wooden bookmark was still in the small compartment of her bag. She instinctively reached in to feel it; the hard texture pressed through the fabric, somewhat uncomfortable.

What Shao Yihuai meant by “later” was probably just polite wording since they hadn’t exchanged contact details.

Just as this thought crossed her mind, she looked down and noticed a new notification in her WeChat contacts. Her heart jumped as if a dragon suddenly burst through the water’s surface.

Could it be so coincidental?

She tapped it open. In “New Friends,” there was a nickname “zy” with a photo resembling an ID picture.

She was confused for a moment but opened the profile. The verification message read: “I’m Zhan Yi, Youran’s father.”

Her confusion turned into deeper discouragement. The dragon that had leapt out of the water vanished instantly, dissipating like mist in the sunlight before it could fall back.

—

Back at the dorm, after washing up, reading for two hours, and organizing things for the exhibition tomorrow, Chu Tong took time to accept Zhan Yi’s friend request.

“zy: Chu, thank you for tutoring Youran.”

“Chu Tong: You’re welcome.”

“zy: What made you think of doing part-time work?”

“Chu Tong: To earn some living expenses and review knowledge while teaching Youran.”

“zy: Short on money?”

“Chu Tong: Not really~ your wife pays a good hourly wage.”

“zy: Our company has many part-time and internship positions. If you want, I can recommend you.”

“zy: After all, I’m your senior. It’s my duty to look out for juniors. [Cute]”

Chu Tong carefully typed a reply:

“Thank you. I’m not planning to look for more part-time or internship jobs recently. Regarding Youran’s progress, I’ve been coordinating with your wife. If any questions arise, you two can discuss them.”

This clearly halted the conversation’s momentum.

She put down the phone to wash her underwear. When she returned, there was another message from Zhan Yi:

“zy: Youran’s mother is on a business trip and won’t be around for a while. It’s inconvenient for you to coordinate with her. If anything comes up, contact me.”

Zhan Yi’s words were courteous and reasonable—just a caring parent—but Chu Tong felt reluctant to engage further, mainly due to the lingering impression from his earlier lingering gaze, which felt sticky and intrusive.

“Chu Tong: Okay.”

Despite reluctance, she knew she had to reply. Life’s hardships had taught her to soften her stance.

—

Saturday.

The annual Cloud Computing Industry Exhibition was held at the International Convention Center in the outskirts of the capital.

At eight in the morning, hundreds of booths bustled with people. Staff were setting up roll-up banners and organizing brochures, everything orderly, awaiting the official nine o’clock opening.

A woman with her hair tied up and wearing a qipao walked around the venue, scrolling through her phone, then sent a voice message:

“Tongtong, no rush. Sleep until you wake naturally. On the way, look over the service process booklet I sent you. Just be here at two o’clock.”

When Chu Tong received this message from Sister Meng, she was applying makeup in Dorm 202.

Though she could have slept in, her biological clock woke her at seven.

After washing and eating some bread bought the day before, she carefully applied full makeup.

The exhibition lasted two days. Besides regular brand product displays, there were two closed-door roundtable discussions starting promptly at 3 p.m. each day, lasting two hours.

Chu Tong’s main task was to provide service during the roundtables—guiding guests in before the talks, directing tea service during breaks, distributing brochures, etc. So as Sister Meng said, no need to arrive early.

However, Chu Tong’s habits made her plan to arrive by 1 p.m. to familiarize herself with the venue.

The exhibition hall was remote, with no nearby subway. She had to take the subway from school to Dongzhimen, then transfer to a bus heading to the suburbs. Accounting for transfers and wait times, the one-way trip took two hours.

So she had to leave by eleven at the latest.

After applying foundation, eyeliner, a touch of blush, and lightly blending lipstick with her fingertip, her makeup was complete. She naturally had striking features—well-defined bones, a prominent nose bridge. Heavy makeup wasn’t suitable for everyday wear, and as this was a part-time etiquette job, a light makeup layer and a healthy glow sufficed.

After washing her hands, she tidied her clothes in the wardrobe and looked at the clock—8:30 a.m.

With two and a half hours free, she decided to read. As a Chinese language and literature major, reading volume was extremely demanding and relied entirely on consistent accumulation.

She opened “Lü Bicheng’s Annotated Ci Poems,” borrowed from the library’s ancient books section. The old edition exuded a strong classical charm, evident even in its binding design.

She flipped to the bookmark, read a few pages, then her phone vibrated.

She glanced over. It was a message:

“zy: Chu, I’d like to know about Youran’s course progress. When are you free these days? Come by over the weekend for a sync.”

Chu Tong stared at the message for a while, suppressing her doubts, and replied:

“Chu Tong: Sorry, Mr. Zhan, I have other part-time activities these days and am about to head to the suburbs. Can we discuss this when I tutor Youran Monday evening?”

After sending the message, she opened her laptop and sent a Word document.

It contained five pages detailing the content she had taught Youran over the past three months, specifying which poems were covered each session, and included the teaching plan for the last two weeks.

“Chu Tong: This is all the course content and plans. Please review. If you have any questions, we can discuss Monday?”

Zhan Yi replied quickly, clearly without opening the document:

“zy: It’s tough doing part-time work out in the suburbs.”

“zy: And you say you’re not short on money? (covering mouth laughing)”

“zy: Young people should look long-term. Running around doing part-time jobs only brings short-term pocket money. It won’t help your future. Better find a proper internship.”

“zy: You’ve heard of Zhuoyi Group, right? I’m an executive there. We happen to have internship openings. You can get a full-time position after graduation.”

Chu Tong certainly knew of Zhuoyi Group—a long-established tech giant with strong backing and deep resources. The leadership had been reshuffled in recent years, greatly boosting profitability. The company offered excellent benefits and a substantial number of residency permits annually, making it very attractive even to University A students.

But she also knew there was no free lunch. A stranger’s sudden goodwill made her uneasy, especially with his lingering, unmasked glances that made her hairs stand on end.

She politely declined Zhan Yi’s offer.

—

At one o’clock, Chu Tong arrived punctually at the International Convention Center in the suburbs.

As she looked for a side entrance, she heard someone call, “Tongtong!”

She looked up to see a slender woman standing in the wind, wrapped in a long down coat, bare legs showing, winking at her.

Chu Tong quickened her pace. “Sister Meng, why are you out in this cold?”

They went together to the main entrance. Sister Meng said, “There’ll be many people inside. I was worried you might not find the lounge, so I came out to meet you.”

Chu Tong smiled and asked, “What’s the work uniform today?”

Sister Shangyun Meng opened her coat to show her. “...Qipao. Since it’s an international exchange exhibition with many foreigners, the organizers said the etiquette girls should also reflect Chinese culture. The fabric’s pretty good. They said we won’t get the dresses back afterward. Honestly, why do we need this? Just pay us more instead.”

Chu Tong laughed and nodded. “True.”

Sister Meng handed her a work badge. They passed security at the side entrance and headed to the backstage lounge.

Dozens of young women with exquisite makeup were changing and touching up.

Sister Meng took out a qipao and showed it to Chu Tong. “This size matches my friend’s figure. You’re both slim; it should fit.”

Chu Tong took the dress and went behind the curtain to change.

Removing her bulky clothes took some effort.

The qipao was sleeveless with a Hong Kong-style collar and a small round neck, creamy in color with ink-painted orchid motifs. It had a slit from calf to knee, elegant and gentle, showing the softness of a Jiangnan girl.

Sister Meng styled her hair at the makeup mirror.

Everything was ready by 2:30. Chu Tong waited at the roundtable discussion venue’s entrance.

Next to the padded door, a long table covered with a dark red cloth held tea trays and a stack of brochures, all neatly arranged.

Near three o’clock, Sister Meng’s voice came over the walkie-talkie: “The guests will arrive at Entrance B soon. Staff, please go and greet them.”

Chu Tong immediately went to Entrance B. Soon, she saw the main group of guests—a crowd of men and women in suits or skirt suits, mostly in their forties or fifties. She bowed slightly and gestured, “Distinguished guests, please this way.”

Her clear, gentle voice attracted some attention. A man joked to his companion, “Such a high-standard exhibition, even the etiquette girls are this pretty.”

An exhibition organizer nodded. “Yes, yes, the etiquette girls serving the roundtable are all carefully selected—highly educated and professional.”

When the padded door was opened by the etiquette staff, the dozen or so guests filed in.

Chu Tong directed the tea service staff to check if the bottled water supply was sufficient and walked around the venue, reporting to Sister Meng over the walkie-talkie, “All here except the Zhuoyi Group representative.”

Sister Meng’s voice came back, “Zhuoyi Group is the biggest highlight of this exhibition. Many companies came just to cooperate with them. It’s not surprising they’re late. I’m waiting at Entrance B. The boss said Zhuoyi’s car has arrived at the parking lot.”

“Okay, I’ll wait by the door.”

Just as she turned to leave, a bald, pot-bellied man called, “Hey miss, I don’t want bottled water. Do you have tea? Bring me some.”

A man in his forties calling her “miss” sounded slimy to Chu Tong. She smiled politely. “Yes, please wait a moment. I’ll bring some.”

She went to the long table by the door, poured tea, carefully removed the dregs, and carried the tray inside.

As she put down the tea, she noticed a tall man in a suit being surrounded by several people entering, being seated in the only vacant seat.

Chu Tong looked up, her heart suddenly pounding.

That was unmistakably Shao Yihuai.

Was he the representative from Zhuoyi Group?

A middle-aged woman in a suit skirt, likely his assistant, whispered something in Shao Yihuai’s ear. He tilted his head, listened quietly, then nodded lightly.

Chu Tong regained composure, picked up the tray, and was about to leave when the bald man said, “My socket isn’t working. Miss, can you check it for me?”

The sockets were inside the roundtable, so Chu Tong leaned over the table.

Before she could see clearly, she heard suggestive laughter nearby. She immediately understood those men were ogling her waist and hips.

She straightened up. “The socket is fine. The discussion is about to start. Please prepare.”

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked away.

From there to the padded door was half the venue. High heels clicked on the heavy carpet, her heart feeling light.

Shao Yihuai’s seat was at the far end.

She thought to herself, just a glance. He wouldn’t notice her. She could secretly look at him.

Silently muttering this, Chu Tong turned to look.

Unexpectedly, their eyes met.

Across the vast roundtable, Shao Yihuai was watching her too.

Their gazes locked. He smiled and gave her a slight nod.

His handsome face stood out among the odd shapes of the other men, clear and refined, like the gentle rain of an autumn night, cleansing the senses with a single look.

Chu Tong couldn’t recall how she responded.

After leaving the padded door and leaning against the white wall by the long table, her heart pounded wildly, palms sweating faintly.

Their statuses were worlds apart. He could have ignored her completely, no need to greet her.

She thought to herself, joy and bitterness mingled, indistinguishable, but one thing was certain:

Every time she saw him, her heart fluttered uncontrollably.