“But I want to see you.”
After Liang Jingchuan landed, he first returned home.
Compared to Lan Junwen, who had fixed attendance at the factory, Liang Xiaoxia worked at a private enterprise as a mid-level manager, so her time was much more flexible. When she received her son’s message, she skipped work and hurried home.
“Want some noodles? I can cook you a bowl. There are also leftovers from yesterday.” Liang Xiaoxia opened the fridge and checked.
“I ate on the plane.”
Liang Xiaoxia immediately shut the fridge door, her face full of relief.
Her cooking skills were at the level of “able to cook food until it’s done and barely edible.” Back when she was raising Liang Jingchuan alone, she preferred taking him out to eat every day rather than bothering with the kitchen.
It wasn’t clear if it was a coincidence, but every boyfriend she’d dated had good cooking skills. Liang Jingchuan had once teased her about whether she deliberately used that as a criterion.
Liang Jingchuan took the souvenirs for Lan Junwen and Liang Xiaoxia out of his suitcase and handed them to her.
Liang Xiaoxia was easy to please, from fridge magnets to silk shawls—whatever it was, she was happy for a good while. The only gifts she didn’t accept were bags, since she worked in that industry and tended to nitpick with a professional eye.
This time, he brought her PANPURI hand soap, with a rich fragrance that seeped through the plastic packaging.
Liang Xiaoxia said, “It smells so good. I can put it in the wardrobe to scent my clothes. Thanks. You were on such a tight schedule and still remembered to bring me something.”
Liang Jingchuan smiled and said, “This was a freebie that came with the shampoo.”
“What about the shampoo?”
“I gave it to Lan Yan.” Seeing that Liang Xiaoxia seemed to believe him, he quickly added, “It’s not a freebie. I was joking.”
Liang Xiaoxia didn’t care about that. She worried, “Does Yanyan have poor living conditions there? Can she even buy good shampoo?”
“…”
“I want to WeChat her and ask about her situation, but I’m afraid she’ll find me annoying. Jingchuan, you saw her this time—how was her mood? Has she gotten over the heartbreak?”
“She’s fine. You know her; aside from work, she doesn’t really care about much else.”
“Because those things hurt her, so she chooses not to care.” Liang Xiaoxia said seriously, “Like how she doesn’t like coming home, because she still minds us intruding on her family…”
Liang Jingchuan fell silent for a moment. “She at least doesn’t dislike you.”
“Because she’s a kind-hearted child—and speaking of that makes me mad. I always thought Chen Boyu, that rich young master, wasn’t reliable. You were Yanyan’s brother and Boyu’s friend—why didn’t you stop her back then?”
“…” Liang Jingchuan had nothing to say. In the early days, Liang Xiaoxia had praised Chen Boyu lavishly, saying he was handsome, had a great personality, and was very likable.
As for stopping them, by the time he knew, it was already too late.
“Did Yanyan say they broke up amicably?”
“…Yeah.” Liang Jingchuan didn’t explain the details. Lan Yan’s claim of an amicable breakup was naturally to put the matter behind them quickly.
“Yanyan didn’t like us much to begin with, and now your friend let her down too. Sigh… Sometimes I really feel bad for her. Try to look after her more when you can.”
Liang Jingchuan smiled. “Am I not doing that right now?”
“You two were pretty tense before. Have things gotten better lately?” Liang Xiaoxia knew even about how the two kids could barely exchange two sentences over a meal. She was well aware that Liang Jingchuan had been acting as a buffer between her and Lan Yan.
“Yeah… Pretty good.”
Liang Xiaoxia told Liang Jingchuan to rest at home for a bit, and they would have dinner together when Lan Junwen got back in the evening.
“I have to go soon. There’s stuff at the company.”
“Is Yanyan coming back for Christmas or New Year’s?”
“No.”
“I actually wanted to go see her with your uncle, and make a trip out of it.”
“She’s staying at someone else’s place now and only has one day off a week.”
“Then forget it. With her personality, if we went, she’d feel obligated to keep us company, and it’d delay her work.”
Liang Jingchuan touched his nose tip, feeling a bit guilty.
/
The hospitality at the Yu Residence made her feel right at home.
Every afternoon at three, afternoon tea was delivered to the One Corner Pavilion.
Lan Yan and Zhou Wenshu often forgot to stretch when they got busy, leading to strain in their shoulders, necks, and backs. This afternoon tea provided a good chance to get up and loosen up.
The two set aside their work and moved to the restaurant in the One Corner Pavilion.
Today it was jasmine tea jelly and fresh-cut papaya, served in exquisite bone china plates with an appealing presentation.
Lan Yan forked a piece of tea jelly into her mouth. While eating, she swiped at the phone on the table.
Half an hour earlier, Liang Jingchuan had messaged that he’d landed in South City.
【blueblue: Okay.】
【ljc: No work? You actually replied to me.】
Lan Yan immediately withdrew the “Okay.”
Liang Jingchuan sent her a smiling emoji.
【ljc: What are you doing?】
Lan Yan raised her phone, clicked “shoot,” and snapped a photo of the table to send over.
【ljc: Room and board plus afternoon tea.】
【blueblue: The treatment befitting the future mistress of the Yu Residence.】
【ljc: [Thumbs up]】
Zhou Wenshu munched on papaya, occasionally glancing at Lan Yan across from him.
She was chatting with someone, a rare smile on her face.
After finishing two jellies and two slices of papaya, Lan Yan did some shoulder and neck stretches, sent Liang Jingchuan a message saying “back to work,” and returned to the Mounting Room.
Before sitting down, she got his reply: “Keep it up.”
Once immersed in work, she basically ignored outside distractions.
At dinnertime, Lan Yan picked up her phone again.
Five minutes earlier, Liang Jingchuan had sent a photo of a white school building under the setting sun.
She left the One Corner Pavilion for dinner at the Yu Residence. As she walked, she replied.
【blueblue: Why’d you go to Sixth Middle School?】
【ljc: Just passing by.】
After thinking, she had nothing much to say back, so she raised her hand and casually snapped a photo of the distant sky, Penang’s sunset fading from orange-red to deep blue.
【ljc: …Can you put a little effort into your photo composition? At least don’t use WeChat’s built-in camera?】
【blueblue: Mind your own business.】
Because of the WeChatting, she unwittingly fell a few steps behind Zhou Wenshu. Noticing he had stopped to wait, Lan Yan locked her phone and hurried to catch up.
There was no Yu Wancheng at the dinner table that night; it was an ordinary “employee meal.”
Work usually ended with dinner. Sometimes Lan Yan would habitually go to the One Corner Pavilion afterward, as if she’d grown accustomed to the slightly murky air there and liked sitting by the window, undisturbed, reading for an hour or two.
She knew full well how dull and monotonous her life was. Given time, she might fully turn into another Chu Lansun.
After Chen Boyu, she seemed to have stopped hoping anyone would understand her lifestyle, nor did she want to squeeze herself into someone else’s mold.
Her page-turning paused.
Lan Yan reached out and unconsciously touched her long hair draped over her shoulder.
She had washed it last night, and even after a full day, she could still smell the jasmine scent on the strands. This brand’s fragrance was sophisticated; even a somewhat assertive note like jasmine was blended into something fresh and inviting.
She didn’t dislike the scent.
The next afternoon at two-thirty, a servant from the One Corner Pavilion knocked, saying there was takeout delivered to the Mounting Room. Since it was drinks and they didn’t allow food inside, it had been left on the restaurant table.
Zhou Wenshu asked, “Senior Sister, did you order takeout?”
Lan Yan shook her head.
Both were a bit puzzled and went to the restaurant.
On the table was a navy-blue takeout bag with a logo ubiquitous on streets back home, which was amusing to see here.
Zhou Wenshu was surprised too. “Overlord Tea Lady?”
Both cups were the same tea, one with less sugar.
Lan Yan picked the low-sugar one, stuck in the straw, and took a sip. The taste was identical to back home, a testament to their standardized quality control.
She picked up the bag to check the order slip. Under name, it said “Miss L.”
The moment she saw the bag, she had already guessed who sent it.
She took out her phone, opened WeChat, and snapped a photo of the milk tea in her hand.
Liang Jingchuan replied quickly.
【ljc: Treating you to an afternoon tea more suited to Chinese tastes.】
【blueblue: Your nickname fits perfectly. So stingy.】
【ljc: Spent money and still get called stingy.】
【blueblue: Narrow-minded.】
Liang Jingchuan sent a screenshot of her photo, with the straw circled.
As if to say: Then don’t drink it?
Lan Yan laughed softly and took a big sip of the milk tea.
“Senior Sister…”
Lan Yan looked up.
“Your friend ordered this for you?”
“Liang Jingchuan.”
Zhou Wenshu nodded, frowning as if he suddenly couldn’t swallow anymore.
That evening at nine, after finishing her book, Lan Yan returned from the One Corner Pavilion to the Yu Residence.
After washing up, she turned on the electric mosquito repellent, lay in bed, and checked her phone. There was another message from Liang Jingchuan.
【ljc: …】
Out of nowhere.
【blueblue: Typos?】
【ljc: No.】
【ljc: Fish need a bit of oxygen.】
Lan Yan stared at the line, then at his profile picture, and couldn’t help rolling over, clutching the bedside pillow to her suddenly queasy stomach.
She realized for the first time that “blueblue” was a fish blowing bubbles.
【blueblue: Always wanted to ask—what kind of fish is your avatar? It’s so ugly.】
【ljc: You forgot?】
【ljc: It’ll be heartbroken if you say that.】
Lan Yan quoted “You forgot?” wanting to press further, but deleted it.
Slight insomnia.
Perhaps the Overlord Tea Lady, shipped across the ocean, still packed a punch.
/
The industry Lan Yan was in sometimes felt like “hiding away in a small building, heedless of the seasons.” Time passed measured by one painting after another, largely disconnected from the outside world.
That day, she saw a Nordmann fir brought into the Yu Residence and realized Christmas was approaching.
On Christmas Eve, Yu Wancheng had someone inform Lan Yan and Zhou Wenshu that it was a holiday, so they didn’t need to stay cooped up in the One Corner Pavilion. The Yu Residence’s driver was at their disposal to take them shopping.
The trendy clothes here differed greatly from back home; she didn’t find anything she wanted and only picked some small gifts to bring back for friends and family.
As dusk fell, the Yu Residence lit up. The over-two-meter-tall Nordmann fir stood in the grand living room, adorned with strings of lights, ornaments, and gifts.
The Yu Residence was hosting a party that night, with guests arriving one after another—young people in their twenties and thirties. Yu Wancheng’s younger brother Yu Jingzhi and his three friends were naturally in attendance.
Lan Yan had planned to return to her room, but Liang Manxi pulled her back.
Last time, Liang Manxi had said she wanted to visit the One Corner Pavilion when she had time, and it wasn’t just talk. She’d come twice recently, earnestly learning some painting restoration techniques and even trying to lift the facing paper herself. The seemingly pampered young lady could sit still and worked meticulously—perhaps inheriting her father’s genes as a surgeon.
There was an antique Bechstein grand piano in the corner. Liang Manxi asked if Lan Yan knew how to play and if she wanted to try a couple of pieces.
As a child, Lan Yan had attended some interest classes; dance was the one she’d stuck with longest, but she’d abandoned it after junior high, let alone piano.
She played the first two sections of Für Elise from muscle memory but couldn’t remember the rest. Liang Manxi sat beside her, took over the keys, and while playing, asked, “Sister, where are you from?”
“South City.”
“My dad’s ancestral home is in Zhejiang. I really want to visit someday.”
Lan Yan smiled and said, “South City is close by. Come play anytime; I’ll host you.”
“It’s a deal then.”
Lan Yan nodded.
Liang Manxi turned her head and pointed toward the window. “My home is right over there, just two buildings away. You can come find me to play. But my parents aren’t around lately—they went to London for Christmas. My mom said Penang is too hot, and there’s no Christmas atmosphere here.”
Lan Yan smiled and said, “I actually think so too.”
The melody between Liang Manxi’s fingers shifted from Für Elise to Barcarolle.
“Don’t your family come to see you for Christmas? That brother from last time?”
“He said he’d come tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you two have the same family name? Do one of you take the father’s surname and the other the mother’s?”
“No. He’s my… stepbrother.”
“Oh.”
“But he really does take his mom’s surname.”
“I take my mom’s surname too.” Liang Manxi paused. “I have the same surname as your stepbrother.”
Lan Yan chuckled. “Did you just realize that?”
“Then you can treat me like your little sister.”
As they chatted idly while playing the piano, more and more people filled the house.
Lan Yan asked Liang Manxi, “Why don’t you go play with your friends?”
Liang Manxi looked genuinely troubled. “I don’t know why, but wherever I am, conflicts tend to arise easily. I think on such a wonderful Christmas Eve, it’s better for me to stay far away from them.”
Lan Yan couldn’t help but burst out laughing. This was truly an adorable girl.
But Liang Manxi’s wish for world peace was soon shattered. Not long after, Yu Jingzhi came over and said the living room was full of guests and too noisy—why not go to the game room to play cards.
Liang Manxi looked at Lan Yan. “Do you know how to play, Sister?”
Lan Yan asked Yu Jingzhi, “Is your big brother here today?”
“He’s not. He went out for some social obligations.”
Lan Yan said, “Then I do.”
The game room had already been cleared out. At the card table were Lan Yan, Liang Manxi, and Yu Jingzhi, along with Liang Manxi’s twin brother Lou Jinxue. That young man surnamed Ding wasn’t there today.
Liang Manxi explained, “His dad is a big boss, and his family is hosting a party, so he had to stay to help out.”
Lan Yan was a newbie short on real experience. Without Liang Jingchuan to back her up, she figured she’d definitely lose money just to entertain everyone today. Who knew that aside from Yu Jingzhi, who was fairly skilled, she was evenly matched with the brother and sister.
And Yu Jingzhi was deliberately feeding cards to Liang Manxi, so the game wasn’t one-sided—it had its wins and losses.
When it came to playing cards, the worst was newbies and experts at the same table; newbies got zero enjoyment out of it.
All experts, and it was full of twists and turns.
All newbies, and it was noobs pecking at each other.
A few noobs pecked away for the whole evening and had a great time. Though Lan Yan was a few years older than them, that age gap wasn’t enough to create a divide. A card game was like a dinner party—a few rounds in, and new friends became old ones.
They played until nearly midnight, then paused the game. Yu Jingzhi had someone bring tea and snacks to refresh them.
Lan Yan pulled out her phone for a look and discovered a WeChat message from Liang Jingchuan from half an hour ago.
【ljc: At home?】
【blueblue: Yeah.】
No reply yet, so Lan Yan casually sent another one.
【blueblue: Where are you spending Christmas Eve?】
After a moment, Liang Jingchuan replied with a photo.
Black-and-white piano keys, a black lacquered fallboard, engraved metal inscription “C.BECHSTEIN.”
Lan Yan froze, then abruptly stood up. She said goodbye to Liang Manxi and quickly walked out of the game room.
Passing through the corridor, the music and laughter from the living room washed over her in layers. The young people’s party night hadn’t grown quiet with the late hour; instead, it seemed like the place was just now truly heating up.
The tall Christmas tree and the upright piano’s raised lid blocked her view. Lan Yan quickened her steps to go around and saw the side profile of a man in a white shirt and black pants.
She halted.
The person sitting on the piano bench, casually pressing the keys, seemed to sense something. He looked up, turned his head, and gazed toward her.
The twinkling string lights, the blaring music, and the clamor of voices all receded like the tide, blurring into the background.
Only his pair of eyes remained exceptionally clear.
Their gazes met, and Liang Jingchuan smiled.
Lan Yan walked over, feeling her steps a bit unsteady.
On the long piano bench, Liang Jingchuan shifted to the side, leaving a large space empty.
Lan Yan hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside him.
“Weren’t you coming tomorrow?” Lan Yan stared at the keys, not looking at Liang Jingchuan.
“I have to go on a business trip to North City tomorrow afternoon. Couldn’t coordinate it, so I came early to see you.”
“…So you’re leaving for the airport in the morning?”
“Yeah. Direct flight from Kuala Lumpur to North City.”
Liang Jingchuan rested only one hand on the keys and pressed a few, producing a very familiar rhythm. Lan Yan recognized it immediately as the opening line of Eternal Flame.
“You could’ve just told me. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
“But I wanted to see you. Couldn’t help it.”