During our company's team-building retreat, we stopped by a Buddhist temple. My coworkers were all drawing fortune lots and hanging them on the wishing tree. I don't believe in gods or Buddhas, so I didn't participate. A colleague called out to me with a smile. "Hey, there's a couple's wish card here with the same name as Chloe." "Chloe Zhou, Ethan Vance... The names actually sound pretty good together." Our manager, who was lighting incense, suddenly looked up. "Vance what?" 1. Hearing that name amidst the crowd, I still subconsciously turned my head. Right in the middle, I met the manager's gaze. He scanned the red wish card with the names written on it, looking puzzled. I grabbed my bag and walked over. "Manager, did you call me?" "Oh, no." He looked at me, then back at the card. "The young heir of Vanguard Group who recently took over is named Ethan Vance." My colleagues got interested: "It feels like neither of these names is very common." "Could you actually be a rich man's wife experiencing normal life?" "I suddenly remembered... last time that guy from the procurement department came over looking for trouble and yelled at Chloe, he was fired a few days later. No procedure at all, just told to pack his bags." I adjusted my glasses and looked down. "If I really had that kind of background, I would plaster my resignation letter all over the office building, then write an email reporting all the idiots who ever offended me, and CC the whole company." Someone beside me nudged me with their elbow. "Hey, keep that to yourself, the manager is still here." "Sigh, no need to hide it, who doesn't know she speaks her mind." "Previously, when someone's protégé showed off a nice watch to her, she told them to crawl out and act like a peacock somewhere else." Everyone around burst out laughing. Smoke wafted from the bronze censer, the incense burning vigorously. That red couple's card was passed around casually, getting wrinkled. "Give the card to me," I said, "I need to hang it back up for whoever left it." The others went into the main hall of the temple. I sat under the tree, and it took a long time for me to remember this place. Ethan's mother was from San Francisco's Chinatown, deeply religious. To please his mother, whenever he encountered a temple, he would always go in and light incense. During the years we were together, I don't know how many small, exquisite temples like this we visited. I didn't pray, so I just waited for him outside. That time was an exception. After drawing a lot, he said it was the best possible fortune. So he asked for a red wooden plaque, wrote our two names with flamboyant strokes, and hung it high on a branch. He also said that after making a wish, it was customary to show one's face in front of the Buddha statue. I couldn't talk him out of it, so we went into the hall together. I watched him straighten his suit, raise the incense high to his forehead, and bow deeply three times. I didn't make a wish. I believe in myself more than gods and Buddhas. The main group of colleagues came out of the hall and went to another spot to take photos. Clutching the red card tightly, I slipped into the Buddhist hall like a thief. The rose-red incense stick felt rough. I lit it hurriedly and bent down, mimicking the way I remembered. If making a wish really works... I want to see him one more time. 2. After touring the attractions, my colleagues were going to eat and asked where I was. I met up with the crowd and ducked into a bustling seafood shack. A few girls at the next table were eating happily, exchanging gossip while clinking glasses. This one said so-and-so cheated. That one said so-and-so had been entangled for years and finally broke up. A male colleague joked, "Exciting enough, I've grown this big and haven't dated yet." "It's okay, you have company, Chloe definitely hasn't dated either... hey, looking at that expression, could it be she has?" "I'm curious who could stand Chloe's sharp tongue." "Maybe they broke up because they couldn't stand it." I smiled perfunctorily and didn't answer. It had been over a year since I broke up with Ethan Vance. I was the one who initiated the breakup. Just over a small matter— He was rear-ended while on a business trip and sprained his left hand. But he didn't tell me. I missed him and video-called him, but he didn't answer immediately. Half an hour later, he called me back. I recognized the background as a hospital, and only then did I know he was injured. A young female employee sent by the other company to host him was trying to smooth things over in the background. Saying the injury wasn't serious, but he needed to rest and be observed for a few days. That he came to the hospital in too much of a rush to tell me. Look, even others knew to at least make up an excuse. There were many things before this. For example, when he encountered difficulties at work. When I asked, he would brush it off lightly. He no longer needed me to travel with him. Avoided talking to me about troubles in his life. Even when his father was seriously ill, he only told me he needed to be away from home for a while. I had many things I wanted to tell him every day. In our chat history, there were far more green bubbles than white ones. The TikTok videos I shared with him were never liked. I didn't even know if he ever clicked on them. He didn't like posting on social media. If he did, it was retweeting reports on industry trends, with a few brief comments. Changing to matching profile pictures, making any official announcements, never happened. I could only be anxious day after day. Then asking him again and again, do you love me? He answered very quickly, very firmly. But he always looked at me with a helpless and accommodating look— As if he didn't know why I had to confirm the same thing with him repeatedly. When Ethan and I met, I was too young. When I was in college agonizing over what to eat for my next meal, he was learning about various affairs in his family's company. When I was interning under him, I watched him effortlessly resolve difficulties countless times. He was only six years older than me, but much, much more mature. The things that left me battered and exhausted, he could handle without a second thought. My initial crush on him probably came from that effortless competence. But I never expected there to be two sides to everything. The tricks I pulled out of insecurity, jealousy, or a need for attention hit him like hitting cotton, caught gently by him without making a single ripple. The time Ethan sprained his arm in the hospital. We only said a few words before disconnecting the video call. He was still completely calm, telling me: "Looks like I'll be home a few days late. I had someone send the gift for you back. Don't worry, it's just a small thing." Just a small thing, don't worry. I don't know how many times I've heard this kind of talk, even feeling a bit numb to it. I really wanted to lose my temper right then. The questioning words were almost blurting out. But seeing his nonchalant face, the anger disappeared in an instant. What was there to say? If he didn't plan on telling me, how else could I pry his mouth open? I stared blankly at the black screen of my phone. Looking around, I suddenly started crying. I didn't know why either. I really wanted to go to his hospital to take a look. Ask him, how did the car accident happen? What exactly was the situation, how were the other casualties? Would his hand have any lingering effects? Was he also very panicked when he was hit? That night I tossed and turned. Scrolling through our chat history from bottom to top, trying to find a little evidence of his enthusiasm for me. None. Only money transfers, money transfers, money transfers. I really love money. Before I was with him, I thought working and making money was everything in my life. Love is something only the elite can pursue. For ordinary people, it's irrelevant. I only needed myself, and a bulging wallet, and that would be enough. It turns out people are greedy. I closed the text app, looking at my bank account balance, feeling happy and shedding tears at the same time. I finally couldn't hold back and video-called Ethan. It was only after the video call went out that I realized it was past 3 AM. He had probably gone to sleep and was woken up. When he answered the phone, he looked exhausted. Draped in an overcoat, his tie undone, a few buttons on his shirt loose. Leaning against the hospital bed, as if he completely didn't expect a call from me. After seeing it was me clearly, he froze for a few moments before speaking. "Why are you crying like this. Save your tears, it's not time to use them yet." I had told myself not to cry. To calmly and logically point out his dereliction of duty as a boyfriend before breaking up. But seeing his face, the emotions suddenly couldn't be suppressed. "Ethan, why won't you tell me anything?" "It's just a minor sprain. If I told you, you'd skip class and fly over like last time. You're in your second year of grad school, you need to leave a good impression on your advisor." I raised my voice, "It's not just about today!" Silence on the other end. Ethan's expression slowly became serious. Through the screen, he looked at me unblinkingly. I turned my head and covered my eyes, tilting the camera up, away from my face. "The things that make you feel very uncomfortable, very unhappy, you won't even tell me one of them?" "Do you have to act like this with me, being all polite, reporting only the good news and not the bad?" "I just... want to know the big and small things in your life." "You used to... tell me carefully when you encountered difficult things, and complain with me when you encountered difficult clients!" "Do you not have the desire to share with me anymore?" My chest trembled uncontrollably. Pressing the words into disjointed characters. On the other end of the phone, the hospital bed creaked. Ethan threw off the thin blanket and got out of bed, pulling on his jacket quickly with one hand. "Chloe," he said, "I just don't want to affect your mood." "Do you think I can't handle my own emotions? It's not like I haven't been yelled at at work!" "That's different." "How is it different?" "Work is work. You can be strictly professional with subordinates, and you need to communicate honestly to solve problems, but a girlfriend is different," he said. "You're young. Being with me, I have an obligation to ensure you're happy, not worrying about me. In my ideal state, you only need to think about what to do for fun today, or go out with others and swipe your card, and ideally bring me a little gift in passing. If I make you feel pressured or start worrying that I can't handle something, it means I'm useless." "So you don't communicate about your life with me, not even when your father passed away?" "I was very busy then, very busy. Too many people came to pay their respects. If you wanted to come pay your respects, I would not only have to handle the funeral arrangements, but also constantly pay attention not to neglect you. I couldn't manage it." I stared at the screen, not speaking. Long silence in the audio, only rustling sounds. His left hand was restricted, and he managed to dress himself with difficulty. He looked at me again, his eyelids heavy from staying up late. "Don't cry anymore. I'll buy the earliest flight back, we'll talk in person." I didn't cry anymore. Sitting on the bed, I looked at him for a long time. "Don't come back." I said. "When I was your assistant helping out, you said I was practical and capable. You asked me for suggestions for you, asked me what I ate today, if I slept well, if I had the energy to go on a mentally and physically exhausting business trip with you." "I don't understand." "We became boyfriend and girlfriend, why did the distance grow further instead?" "If a romantic relationship makes you feel like I'm delicate and weak and need you to take care of everything, then let's take a step back." "If we go back to being friends..." "You would look at me equally again, and tell me some things you won't tell me now." I pressed my dry eyes; my palms were dry. He slowly leaned back against the sofa, sighing and comforting. "Chloe, when you reach my age, you'll know..." I interrupted him. "I don't know, and I don't want to know." In the gap of relative silence. I lowered my head, even I couldn't figure out the motive for speaking up. "Ethan Vance, do you love me?" He still spoke firmly. "Yes." "That's enough then." I hung up the phone and moved out of his house that night. Initiating the breakup didn't make me feel relieved. Those past events would squeeze into the gaps of my thoughts at every opportunity. Sometimes pushing in forcefully, making it impossible to think about anything else. And then suddenly withdrawing. Leaving only emptiness and a continuous, long, dripping pain. 3. The team building ended, and we flew back to New York. The few days of traveling felt like a long dream. Only that red card with our names in my pocket was repeatedly mocking me, able to pick it up but unable to put it down. The things that needed to be done before the end of the year had all reached the final inspection and wrap-up stage. Everyone started to have nothing to do, waiting for the holidays. A childhood friend called, inviting me to attend a wedding banquet with him. "Whose wedding banquet?" I asked. It was rare to get a break all year, and I didn't want to exert effort to see people I didn't know well. Aaron's voice was low, refusing to tell me who was getting married. "Chloe, I really don't know who else I can talk to. You have to come with me." I checked the date and agreed. Only when I arrived at the wedding venue did I know the protagonist of the banquet was Aaron's ex-girlfriend. I was finally happy. "Hey Aaron," I nudged him with my elbow, "You should have been the wedding car driver, you know the route to pick up the bride best." Aaron gripped his chopsticks, furious. I acted as if I didn't notice, admiring the bride's grand attire. "This officiant is no good," I said. "It still has to be you, you've rehearsed the process of marrying her many times, right?" He gritted his teeth, and after a long time, smiled. "Are you sick?" Got scolded. I was satisfied, concentrating on selecting dishes from the banquet. Aaron's ex-girlfriend came from a good family, and her family had high requirements for choosing a son-in-law. The two of them broke up and got back together, dragging it out for several years. Finally, Aaron felt he couldn't convince his in-laws and proposed breaking up. I looked at the newlyweds on stage, and then at Aaron, who was burying his head in drinking. If Ethan got married, I definitely would... I definitely wouldn't go. I could wish him success, wish him health, but the only thing I wouldn't wish him was happiness. The white wine on the table was opened. I poured half a glass and clinked glasses with Aaron on my own. He said, "Don't eat too much, keep me company to go out for a drink later." I nodded, risking my life to accompany the gentleman. After eating the meal where Aaron poured out his feelings, the streets were empty. I was incredibly sleepy. Seeing that he called a designated driver, I simply closed my eyes and lay on the back seat, sleeping soundly— Until broad daylight. I was frozen awake. Not at home, still in Aaron's car. The window was opened at some point, and the wind was freezing. The scenery outside the window was strangely familiar. Half asleep and half awake, I paused for a moment and suddenly became fully awake. ... It's Ethan's house. I looked at Aaron in disbelief. "You paid a designated driver to drive hundreds of miles overnight just to mess with me once, right?" "Sigh, you actually guessed right." "Are you crazy?" I punched his shoulder frantically. "Drive away quickly!" During the scuffle, his elbow hit the steering wheel. The car honked abruptly. The housekeeper auntie walked out suspiciously. Catching sight of me, she let out an "Oh my". "Miss Zhou! You haven't been here for a long time!" I hurriedly tried to stop her, "Auntie! Don't tell Eth..." "Go tell the mister quickly, Miss Zhou is back." Auntie pressed the intercom and said a few words, then came back to her senses. "Ah? Miss, what did you say?" I slumped back into the back seat. "Nothing." Aaron laughed out loud. "Why aren't you getting out of the car, aren't you most familiar with this place?" "The mister invites you up. When you're not here, he always stays up late, relying on his youth to ruin his health," the auntie complained, opening the car door for me. "The mister says you're very busy and don't have time to come. Where have you been this past year? Why haven't you even come home." I didn't know how to answer, so I could only smile. The auntie kept talking to herself. "You came at a good time, he's free these few days and can play with you." The words of refusal hovered on my lips. The familiar small building was right in front of me. Should I see him one more time? See him one more time, talk things out, and then I can let go of my obsession. As if possessed by a ghost, I got out of the car. Smoothing my hair using my phone camera. Rubbing my face vigorously, trying to eliminate the puffiness from a hangover. The thought in my mind was that I shouldn't go, but my feet stepped forward one by one. The road to Ethan's house, I had been walking since my junior year of college. Sometimes it was to fetch documents for him. Sometimes it was to pick him up for a dinner engagement. Sometimes it was when work went wrong, and he caught me to give me private tutoring on how to handle things. Meeting him was an accident. Rumor has it that before children of wealthy businessmen enter management, they would let their children throw money into games to raise a team to practice. Ethan was my sponsor in the game. Teaming up to clear dungeons is hard work. When busy, we had to pull all-nighters. Fortunately, he was very generous. Every season, he paid all the wages to me. And I distributed it to each team member. Relying on him, I saved up tens of thousands in deposits. I didn't expect frequent jokes to happen in the game. Many teams had instances where the team leader embezzled team members' wages, causing the sponsors to be publicly shamed and cursed. How could the rich kids have ever suffered this kind of humiliating hardship. For a time, major sponsors were investigating the people under them. Ethan didn't ask anything. He transferred another hundred thousand in bonus funds to me and said calmly: "I don't care how much extra you took before. This time, it must be divided equally according to the number of people." I said: "I didn't embezzle." "Every season, wages plus bonuses start at half a million, the money that passed through your hands during this time is at least three million. Water that is too clear has no fish; if the personnel below are managed well, taking a little profit, I don't mind." I said: "I didn't embezzle a single cent. Every sum of money is accounted for, I'm not joking." Silence on the other end for a moment, asking about my education. I took a picture of my student ID and sent it to him. After a long time, a short voice message popped up. His tone was approving. "Work with me." So company colleagues got in touch with me. Occasionally dispatching some practice tasks. When the holidays arrived, they directly sent over a photo of a workstation and asked me to report there. I worked cross-disciplinary, mostly having no specific tasks, only responsible for watching and learning. Ethan was rotating through the grassroots departments of the company to gain experience, busy spinning around. His rank wasn't high enough to be assigned an assistant. When meeting important clients, he still had to show his face with the identity of the crown prince. I was taken everywhere running around. Felt like a duck being stuffed with various knowledge. Occasionally accompanying him on business trips, I had to take several days off in a row. My relationship with my roommates was stiff, so I simply rented a place off-campus to facilitate working at any time. Friends were very sympathetic to me. Saying this kind of grueling internship couldn't be found even with a lantern, asking me where I dug it up. But I thought it was great. Studying this garbage major was like having both feet in the grave. One side is not finding a job and starving to death into the grave. The other side is the dirt of the construction site. When encountering work that didn't require being stationed at a construction site, I didn't even have time to laugh. Not to mention it was direct recruitment by the boss, getting to hang with the young heir of the company right out the gate. The second I realized I had fallen for him, I felt miserable. If I laid my cards on the table, I'd lose a great job. If I hid it, feelings that exceeded the superior-subordinate dynamic would eventually make me mess up. It was better to propose leaving myself. That was near the end of the year, after a business trip. Ethan leaned back in the rear seat, rubbing his temples. "Why aren't you getting in?" I returned the red envelope I'd received to him. "I probably won't be able to join the company after graduation." He didn't take it, asking me, "Why." "If I can get in, I want to continue to grad school." "That's a good thing, I support it. Come back after you finish, I always have a spot for you here." He tapped the leather seat. "It's windy, get in." I held the car door, shaking my head. "That's not what I mean." I didn't have to keep him company drinking at the dinner table. But maybe the winter atmosphere was too suitable for a drink, and I also had a few glasses mixed with Sprite. "Ethan, I think I've fallen for you. Liking the boss is very unethical." He leaned in the back seat, and for a long time didn't let the driver start the car. Suddenly he leaned forward and reached out to grab my wrist. I was pulled to sit beside his legs, hearing the sound of a violently beating heart. The car door insulated us from the cold, and he let out a breath. He folded his suit jacket and put it aside, then pulled out a small, long velvet box from his side. "Then I guess I'll have to be the one doing the unethical thing." A necklace made of slender marquise diamonds, visibly valuable but not overly ostentatious. I asked blankly, "Why pick me?" He said. "I trust you completely." "If you're always at home in the future, I think I'll be very relaxed." 4. From age 21 to 24, I spent nearly half my time at Ethan's house. After being away for a year and eight months. It was still the same gardener trimming the branches. The water mist sprayed by the irrigation system condensed into rainbows in the air. It seemed like nothing had changed, just that the flowers had withered and bloomed a few more times. The auntie smiled and led me inside. "Go on up quickly. Has your taste changed, or should I have them make those same few dishes for you as before?" "No need to trouble... I'll just go to the restroom first." I practically fled in disarray, hiding in the empty space. The appearance in the mirror wasn't exactly dazzling. At least it was too different from the self I imagined when reuniting with him. I should have had a full face of makeup. Sporting a delicate, curled hairstyle. Dressed decently, smiling and greeting him, showing that I'm doing very well. Instead of being full of exhaustion, wrapped in a long black puffer jacket, inexplicably dragged to my ex's door by car. A piece of the nude nail polish on my index finger had chipped off, making the nail bed look mottled. I cupped water and rinsed my mouth repeatedly, combing my hair until it was smooth. There were still a few strands of hair that had been pressed down for too long, stubbornly sticking up. I closed my eyes and said forget it. It's not like he hadn't seen me looking miserable with ruined makeup before. I took off the puffer jacket and folded it over my arm. The door to the second floor was casually open, and sounds of laughter and conversation came from the parlor. "I have to go back to the old house in a few days. Sigh, going there every year just to get scolded, and getting scolded the most every year." "Why do they scold you, which of your cousins isn't more of a jerk than you?" "The old man is patriotic, dislikes that I don't stay home to build the motherland. Tsk, even told me to follow my dad's old path, I won't do it. If they confiscate my passport, I won't be able to go anywhere, I'd suffocate." "I bet they're scolding you for not getting married." "A grown man who hasn't even seen a female cockroach, do you like men?" "Hey, don't say that, I'm young and in my prime, why get married at 28?" A group of people were lying or standing, beaming with joy. Ethan sat at the low table, not joining the conversation, just listening with a smile, pouring a round of tea. I was hesitating whether to go in. One person leaning on the sofa tilted his head and looked at me through the display shelves in the entryway. He sat up with a start and raised his chin. "Hey, Ethan, your girlfriend." "Girlfriend is here? Alright, we brothers will roll out now, won't disturb you two being alone." "When everyone's free, we'll go see Auntie together." As if cued by a notification sound, everyone stood up in unison. "You guys chat, you guys chat," I quickly explained, "I'll just sit for a bit and leave shortly." Ethan smoothly pulled me behind him, nodding goodbye to his friends. The gazes of the few men looked over his shoulder and landed on my face. "Come to the gathering in a few days, sister-in-law. We're heading back now." The sounds of casual chat mixed with footsteps faded away. The warmth of his palm wrapping around my wrist bone gradually dissipated. I hid my hand back under my clothes, not knowing what to say. He closed the door, casually took my puffer jacket, and hung it on the coat rack. "Sit." I didn't move, embarrassed by his familiarity. He dumped the tea dregs and brewed a new pot. "Haven't seen you in so long, what made you suddenly think of coming here?" Of course, it was because that idiot Aaron holds grudges and seeks revenge instantly. Just because I laughed at him for not getting to drink his own wedding wine. "Aaron's ex-girlfriend got mar..." I pointed my left hand indignantly, starting to vent my anger. Ethan washed the teacups and looked up at me. I subconsciously wanted to complain about the whole thing from beginning to end. Catching his gaze, I instantly shut my mouth. He might not want to hear it either. I opened my mouth, swallowing the remaining sentences. "Nothing," I said, "I laughed at Aaron about his ex, and he dragged me here." "Mm." He didn't press further, "Since you're here, let's have a meal together." "No need." I blurted out. "It's a bit cold outside. I'll call a car from here, and I'll leave when the car arrives." No one spoke. The cups bobbed in the boiling water, were fished out by the tea tongs, and placed on the low table. He poured two cups of tea, his tone betraying no emotion. "I thought we hadn't reached the point where we wouldn't even speak when we meet." I stood blankly for a moment, then sat down in front of the teacup. A thin gold line traced the rim of the cup, smooth and exquisite. The first time I used it, the cup itself wasn't hot, but that line burned my hand. Later I learned to be smart. When the temperature of the gold line was just right, the tea was ready to drink. The door was knocked on. A servant quickly set down some snacks and closed the door again. At this time, having something to logically stuff my mouth with couldn't be more perfect. I picked up a rice cake, unexpectedly meeting Ethan's gaze. He held his teacup and looked at me calmly. Realizing I was peeking at him, he didn't dodge at all. He is always composed, I thought. No matter how sharp I am in front of others, towards him, it seems I can never be completely at ease. I swallowed the pastry with some water and took the initiative to speak. "How have you been lately?" "Easier than before." He replied briefly, his hand suddenly pausing, raising his eyes to sweep over me. After a moment of silence, he continued, frowning and speaking slowly. As if he hadn't tried to carve out fragments of his life to share with someone for a long time, there was an unfamiliarity in his words. "What I have to do daily is just that. I don't need to manage the small things, and there are never many big things. I travel for business occasionally; what's important is mostly maintaining connections. I rarely encounter people or things worth remembering, accidents don't happen often, and similarly, there are no surprises. If I had to say something special, a friend's German Shepherd had a litter recently, and I asked for one. The backyard is quite spacious. When spring comes and we plant grass seeds, a lawn will grow quickly. Put out some toys, and it'll be suitable for it to play." I didn't expect him to bring this up on his own and choked for a few moments. "That dog, where is the dog now?" "Hasn't been weaned yet." He flipped his phone and pushed it in front of me, "They all look good, I picked a small one. If you like it, I'll ask him to save one for you too." "I thought about getting a dog. But I don't have time to walk it when I'm working, so I decided against it." I lowered my voice, "I didn't expect you would raise these." He nodded and poured tea for me. "How is work?" I was in a daze for a few seconds, "Everything is pretty good."
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