Chapter 81: Together

Watching Zhao Qiping sprint off into the distance, Wang Yan strolled with his hands behind his back, circling the area.

By the time he returned to Happy Song, it was nearly six. The little he’d eaten in the afternoon had long been digested. In good spirits, Wang Yan bought some vegetables, cooked himself a meal, savored the small dishes, sipped his wine, and found quiet joy in it all.

Andy had a bite to eat with Wei Wei, then was taken by him to the Science Museum. As if she’d forgotten the pain of recent days—or perhaps to vent it—Andy had a thoroughly enjoyable time.

Wei Wei, who’d been watching her closely, felt equally delighted, and breathed a deep sigh of relief. In just over a week, he’d opened his eyes thinking of Andy, closed them thinking of Andy, and nearly went mad from thinking of her.

“Scientists have long been dedicated to studying… this was not the blue planet we know. At that time, humans had not yet appeared. One day, a small asteroid flew in from the distant heavens…”

Wei Wei and Andy sat together watching an educational film, noticing Andy’s intense, curious gaze fixed on the screen. As the asteroid collided with the blue planet, sparks, wildfires, and lava erupted like fireworks across the screen, accompanied by the narrator’s voice. Wei Wei murmured, “So beautiful,” and slipped his hand around to rest on Andy’s shoulder.

Feeling the touch on her shoulder, Andy instinctively stood up and shoved Wei Wei away, then ran out.

The earlier beauty vanished like moonlight on water, flowers in a mirror. Now the screen showed the blue planet shrouded in hazy volcanic ash, no trace of its former blue. Wei Wei lay stunned on the floor, staring after Andy as if questioning reality. When he saw her disappear, he snapped to and rushed after her to apologize.

Walking up to Andy, who was calming herself, Wei Wei hurried forward: “Andy, what’s wrong? Are you angry?”

Andy glanced at him and said, “Sorry,” then turned and walked away.

Wei Wei followed closely, trying to ask a few questions to understand why she’d reacted so strongly. With no success, he finally drove her back to Happy Song.

On the way, Andy remained silent. Wei Wei had a thousand words in his heart, but they were useless—there was no chance for him to speak.

Sitting in the car, watching Andy walk away, Wei Wei’s heart grew colder and colder, a knife twisting in his chest. He sighed deeply, then returned dejectedly to his riverside mansion, slumping against the large, bright floor-to-ceiling window, licking his shattered heart.

………

Andy drank water in large gulps, leaning against the bed, thinking about what had happened today.

Aside from Wei Wei’s little touch, she’d truly felt happy. She forgot her brother still in Daishan, forgot the unspeakable feelings she harbored, forgot her work, forgot her exhaustion. She wondered—if her childhood had been happy, would it have been like other children, taken out by their parents?

Shaking her head, Andy turned to thoughts of Wei Wei. They’d known each other a long time, but altogether, they’d met only three times—including today. Despite the discomforts, she had feelings for him. But today’s events made her see reality clearly: it wasn’t the feeling she thought it was—it was merely emotional solace from being alone in a foreign land, not the home she’d imagined.

All men, she thought unconsciously of the man upstairs, Wang Yan. From the noise incident, to the elevator incident, to her brother’s matter—she recalled everything that had happened in this short time and compared it to Wei Wei.

She realized she’d unconsciously come to rely on Wang Yan, and she’d long noticed she didn’t mind physical contact with him…

After much thought, comparing the two, Andy understood her own heart. She drained her glass, stood up, and went upstairs.

Seeing Andy at the door, Wang Yan turned back to the dining table: “You came just in time. Have you eaten?”

Andy closed the door casually and said, “Not yet.”

“Cook. Eat together.” Wang Yan fetched her chopsticks and bowl, poured her a cup of wine.

Watching Andy silently pick at her food, Wang Yan asked, “Something on your mind?” He didn’t know she’d gone out with Wei Wei today—and even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared.

“I’ve thought deeply. I’ve realized—I don’t resist your touch. I always find myself wanting to share my thoughts with you… Wang Yan…” She spoke quickly, then met his eyes: “Maybe… we could get closer?”

Seeing Wang Yan stare at her without speaking, Andy explained: “You know my situation. If you refuse, I won’t say anything. I just…”

He still had some sense—not taking things for granted—he interrupted: “Are you confessing your feelings?”

“You could say that. So what do you think?”

Wang Yan smiled and raised his cup: “You tell me what I think.”

Andy sighed in relief, smiled, and raised her cup to clink his.

They continued eating, laughing and chatting, then washed the dishes together.

Lying on the balcony floor, wrapped around Andy, they watched the rare starry sky. Wang Yan explained his system-assigned identity to her, letting her understand. He talked until past eleven.

Though late, nothing else happened.

After a clumsy kiss, Andy returned downstairs, flushed and smiling, her eyes bright. She washed up simply, lay in bed, lost in thought, and fell asleep without realizing it.

She meant “closer” literally. They hadn’t known each other long, but Wang Yan wasn’t in a rush. It was bound to happen eventually.

Wang Yan was no good man—never had been. The most you could say was he wasn’t bad. His patience had improved, and he’d only been in this world a month or so longer than his last. He hadn’t fully recovered yet. Otherwise, Andy would’ve been lying there today. This had nothing to do with age. Even if he were five hundred years old, he’d still be old in heart but young in body. Young in body means the spear still flies like a dragon. What’s the point of being old in heart?

In truth, combining the plot and Andy’s reaction, Wang Yan already understood what had happened. He felt sorry for Wei Wei—there was little chance they’d meet again, but he had no reason to target him. Let it be.

The next day, Monday, Andy, radiant after a day of affection with Wang Yan, took Guan Juer to work.

In the car, Guan Juer said, “Sister Andy, you look amazing today.”

Andy smiled slightly: “Really? I think I’m fine.” She didn’t mention she and Wang Yan were together—since no one asked, she saw no need to volunteer.

Guan Juer didn’t think anything of it—Andy had always been like this. Then she remembered something: “By the way, Sister Andy, don’t you think Yingying has changed a lot lately?”

“I asked Wang Yan about this. Let me tell you his answer.” Andy smiled: “He said Xiao Qiu has indeed improved, but her personality hasn’t changed much. The reason you feel she’s different is simply because she’s working nonstop, studying constantly, and has no energy left for anything else.”

Hearing this, Guan Juer immediately defended Qiu Yingying: "Sister Andy, when you get the chance, please try to persuade Yingying..."

As soon as they entered the office, they saw Tan Zongming leisurely flipping through a book: “Old Tan, why are you here again?”

Tan Zongming spun his chair around: “What? You don’t welcome me?”

“No, it’s just—you rarely come to the office. Last time was because of my brother. What’s this time about?”

“The board members are meeting soon to discuss Hongxing. By the way, you’ve been handling the Hongxing project—you know it best. You should sit in.” Tan Zongming studied Andy closely as she nodded: “You’re in better spirits today than before. Something good happen?”

Andy nodded and smiled: “Wang Yan and I… are together. I’ll introduce you two sometime.”

Hearing Wang Yan’s name, Tan Zongming felt a twinge of discomfort—even though he’d expected it. After rolling around twice last time, he’d dug deep into Wang Yan again. The result was the same: nothing remarkable. He’d weighed it and let it go.

He masked his discomfort perfectly, laughing loudly: “Good. I’m glad, Andy. I’m happy for you. Looks like I picked a great apartment—love even blossomed here.”

Andy shook her head: “It’s not that serious. We’ve just started. Too early.”

Though he’d met Wang Yan only once, he had confidence in him. He didn’t want to say more. Tan Zongming didn’t want to talk further—he checked his watch: “Let’s go. Time’s almost up.” He walked out first.

Andy didn’t feel anything odd. She picked up her files and followed.

At noon, Andy called Wang Yan to have lunch.

Wang Yan had no objection—he went ahead to a restaurant near Andy’s company, ordered a few dishes, and waited. After all, women are women—when they’re newly involved, they just want to talk. Understandable.

Andy arrived late, apologetic: “Sorry I kept you waiting. So much going on with the acquisition.”

“Here, the dishes just came.” Wang Yan gestured to the server behind her, handed her chopsticks and bowl: “I don’t know what’s good here—everything’s a specialty. Try it and see.”

Andy picked up the chopsticks, tasted, and said: “It’s fine, but honestly, it’s worse than your cooking.”

She was right—he was on par with the master chefs here. Wang Yan smiled: “Leave work early tonight. I’ll cook.”

Andy nodded, picked up a bite: “One of my subordinates is driving me crazy. He keeps making mistakes—big and small. No matter how I tell him, nothing changes.”

“Tell me more.”

Andy ate as she recounted the subordinate’s case: “I just can’t figure out how he got to this position.”

After listening, Wang Yan understood. He sipped his soup: “Andy, I won’t talk about your subordinate. I want to talk about you.”

“Me?” Andy was puzzled. She didn’t see any problem with herself.

Wang Yan nodded: “Your approach is flawed. You wouldn’t do this in America. So how did you get to this position?”

Wang Yan spoke bluntly, but Andy didn’t get angry—she signaled him to continue.

“You don’t need to be subtle, like spring rain nourishing silently—but you also can’t yell at him in front of everyone. Shouldn’t you speak to him privately? Find out why he’s acting this way.”

“Problems? Solve them. If you can’t solve them, bring them to the table—let everyone brainstorm. If no one finds a solution, don’t blame him. That’s your problem as a leader.”

“If it’s purely his incompetence, then let the capable rise. If you yell at him like this and push him to work overtime, who takes responsibility if something goes wrong? Can you honestly say you’re innocent?”

Andy thought for a moment, then nodded: “I’ve learned. Thank you.”

Seeing her mood low, he guessed he’d hit a nerve. He hadn’t even said the harshest things yet. He shook his head, changed the subject, and quietly guided their mood back to normal.

“Big Brother Wang, Sister Andy.”

As they were nearly finished eating, Guan Juer and her two colleagues arrived at the restaurant.

“Little Guan?” Wang Yan, immersed in the moment, felt the scene was familiar, but didn’t dwell on it: “Looks like we’ve missed our chance—we’ve already finished.”

“It’s fine, Big Brother Wang.” Guan Juer introduced her two colleagues.

Wang Yan nodded to them: “I remember I owe you a big meal. Been too busy to remember. Tonight, let’s set a time—give Xiao Qiu a day off, and we’ll go out for a feast.”

Guan Juer wanted to refuse—giving Qiu Yingying a day off—but after a pause, she nodded: “Alright, Big Brother Wang. Bye, Sister Andy.”

Wang Yan and Andy left. At the door, he asked what they’d ordered, then added two more meat dishes and paid the bill.

Now he remembered—wasn’t this the exact scene where Andy first met Wei Wei? He wasn’t sure if it was the same restaurant. The thought flashed by—he let it go.

Andy saw Wang Yan add the dishes and pay. She said nothing. They strolled a bit to digest, then parted ways.

In the restaurant, Guan Juer watched them leave and said: “Sister Andy, you’ve met him—the man upstairs you two talked about. That’s your rumored boyfriend.”

The short-haired colleague jumped in, speaking confidently: “This guy’s better than the last one. Just by age and height, he crushes him. As for looks, they’re about even—but Big Brother Wang’s eyes are especially sharp, big plus. He’s dressed casually and sporty, posture straight—his physique must be good. Can’t tell the brand, but judging the fabric, it’s expensive. Your female neighbor is really impressive. All top-tier men.”

“Forget the brand last time. How did you learn to judge fabric from across the room?”

“Hehe. Talent. You can’t envy it.”

They laughed and chatted as their ordered dishes arrived. Seeing the extra meat and vegetable, the long-haired colleague said: “You messed up—we didn’t order these two dishes.”

“No mistake, madam. The gentleman at that table added these two dishes—and already paid.” The server pointed to the table Wang Yan had just left.

Watching the server leave, the short-haired colleague exclaimed: “Wow—big plus. He’s way better than the last one. Why don’t I have a neighbor like this?”

Guan Juer ignored them, pulled out her phone, and called Wang Yan. With her skills, two words from him would settle it.

The long-haired colleague picked up a bite: “He invited you—just eat. Why be shy?”

“I don’t want to owe too much. I can’t pay it back.”

The short-haired colleague chimed in: “Obviously, you’re overthinking. He never expected you to pay back.”

In the afternoon, Andy returned to the office and spoke with Liu Siming—the employee who’d died suddenly at Shengxuan, the same subordinate Andy mentioned at lunch.

No one knew what they discussed. That day, Liu Siming resigned, receiving three months’ salary as severance.

If Liu Siming had known the cause, he’d have said: “Thank you so much—you just saved my life.”

………

Zhao Qiping warmly greeted: “Come in, come in, sit down! This is Andy, right? Oh my, Boss Wang, you’ve got great luck with women!”

It was Tuesday, at a quiet restaurant.

Zhao Qiping had learned texting didn’t work—Wang Yan rarely checked messages. So yesterday he’d called directly to invite him to dinner, since the patient had recovered.

“Thank you, Doctor Zhao.”

“No need to thank me,” Zhao Qiping waved, turning to Wang Yan: “But you move fast. I remember when we met—you were single.”

“Can’t help it—charm is just there.”

Andy gave Wang Yan a side-eye but said nothing.

“Cheeky,” Zhao Qiping raised his cup and laughed. “Alright, drink up, drink up. To your being single no more, Wang Da, and to the patient being saved.”

The three drank a toast. Wang Yan said, “Enough. You saved the person. I paid just to ease my conscience. If I can lend a hand, that’s enough.”

Zhao Qiping didn’t mind—money had been paid, the person was alive; that was what mattered.

After some light chatter, Wang Yan asked, “Aren’t you still single? What’s your thinking?”

Zhao Qiping ate while speaking: “Didn’t think much. Just wait for fate.” He gestured toward Andy beside him.

Andy shook her head. “Don’t look at me. He didn’t lie just now—he really is charming. I was the one who confessed first. You still have to fight for it. You don’t know how long you’ll wait for fate.”

“Oh? Tell me all about it,” Zhao Qiping leaned forward, eager.

Andy then gave a general account of what had happened.

After hearing it, Zhao Qiping raised his cup. “I admire your boldness and honesty. This toast is for you, Andy.”

Watching them drink, Wang Yan raised his own cup in accompaniment. “Actually, we just clicked. Don’t listen to Andy—I’ve had my eye on her for a long time too.” Though all in jest, such matters shouldn’t burden a woman, nor should they be bragged about; behind this honesty lay a quiet sadness.

Andy glanced at Wang Yan and smiled, then drained her cup.

“Tell me—fate’s hard to come by. If you had to choose, would you prefer the quiet harmony of a peaceful union, or the hollow, explosive passion?”

Zhao Qiping paused, then said, “I’d rather find a middle ground.”

“Understood. You’re still waiting for fate. Enough talk—drink.”

After drinking, Zhao Qiping sighed. “I know it’s hard to find. Between the two, I lean toward the first.”

Andy interjected, “But doesn’t your job need the second?”

“It’s fine for short bursts of fun,” Zhao Qiping shook his head. “But long-term? I can’t take it. I’d rather read, listen to music, or watch anime to unwind.”

As the taxi carrying Zhao Qiping drove off, Andy turned her head. “Do you think he and Xiao Guan would suit each other?”

“Dunno. Let them meet sometime and see. Forget them—we’re going home.” Wang Yan pulled Andy close.

Thus, Wang Yan and Andy’s relationship slowly warmed: morning runs and breakfast together, evening vegetable prep and cooking, daily chores, occasional tea or wine, chatting, reading, writing calligraphy. Not fiery, but deeply warm—Andy was thoroughly immersed in it.

As for Wei Wei? He might as well have been out of sight.