“Yanyan, there will be someone who can do better than him.”
The next day’s itinerary was to head out to sea to another small island for snorkeling.
A fog had risen in the morning, and the sky was overcast and pale. The guide said to wait for the sun to rise higher or for the sea breeze to pick up, and the fog would dissipate without affecting the schedule.
After breakfast, everyone took the bus to the dock and lined up to board the boat.
Lan Yan had felt a vague bloating in her lower abdomen since early morning. Before boarding, she said goodbye to Chen Boyu and hurried to the restroom.
Perhaps thanks to the cola she’d greedily drunk cold and the ice cream she’d eaten the day before, her period had come three days early.
She had no period supplies in her bag, and snorkeling meant getting in the water, so Lan Yan could only cancel the trip.
She returned to the dockside and took her backpack back from Chen Boyu, explaining the situation. “You go have fun. I’ll head back to my room to rest.”
“Then I won’t go either. We’ll go together…”
“President Chen! Time to depart!” At the speedboat boarding point, the guide leaned out and shouted.
Chen Boyu glanced at the speedboat. After a moment of hesitation, he still decided to return to the hotel with Lan Yan.
There was no abdominal pain, just a slight uncomfortable bloating. Back in her room, she changed into pajamas and lay down on the bed to catch up on sleep.
Chen Boyu poured a cup of hot water and placed it by the bed. He said he would review the financing plan again and told her to call him if she needed anything.
Lan Yan put on an eye mask and, amid the intermittent sound of keyboard typing, fell asleep in no time.
When she woke, the room was empty. There was a WeChat message from Chen Boyu saying he’d scheduled a phone meeting with the marketing head on duty at the company to avoid disturbing her, so he’d gone to the tea room downstairs.
The fog had cleared, and the sunlight outside was uncharacteristically gentle.
Lan Yan got up, changed clothes, and planned to stroll by the seaside before heading to the tea room to have lunch with Chen Boyu.
She went downstairs, exited through the back door, and passed several staggered azure swimming pools.
Perhaps because of the overcast morning, the pool water was cool, and there weren’t many swimmers at the moment. On the poolside loungers, just a few people were sunbathing.
Lan Yan glanced over, paused, then looked back.
Under a dark green striped parasol sat a man in a full linen white outfit, sunglasses perched on his nose, and Bluetooth earbuds in his ears.
Strange—she had clearly seen him board the speedboat with her own eyes, yet here he was.
Liang Jingchuan was probably on a call with someone. From a distance, she could only see his lips moving, not hear the sound.
He must have noticed her too, as his face turned toward her and stayed that way for a while.
The sunglasses blocked his eyes.
Lan Yan immediately withdrew her gaze and walked toward the beach amid the coconut palms and banana leaves.
There were few people on the beach. Amid the gray-blue sea waters, a woman in a black-and-white striped swimsuit was swimming farther out.
The sand was clean; the footprints left by yesterday’s tourists had been smoothed away by the nighttime high tide.
Lan Yan slipped off her flip-flops and carried them as she stepped barefoot into the slightly damp sand, letting her toes plow through the fine grains.
Suddenly, she heard a muffled shout from the sea.
Lan Yan shaded her eyes with her hand and squinted. It came from the woman in the black-and-white swimsuit. Listening carefully, it sounded like “help.”
Her heart jolted, but she didn’t rashly jump in. She scanned the surroundings—no sign of a beach lifeguard.
A mother and daughter approached from ahead, the ten-or-so-year-old girl holding a unicorn-shaped swim ring.
With no other flotation devices around, Lan Yan dropped her flip-flops and ran toward them.
The commotion in the sea hadn’t gone unnoticed by just Lan Yan. The mother immediately understood and quickly took the unicorn swim ring from her daughter and handed it to her.
Lan Yan hurriedly said thanks, grabbed the swim ring without a second’s hesitation, and rushed into the sea. She shouted “Calm down!” as she swam toward the woman.
Fortunately, the distance wasn’t far. When she reached arm’s length from the woman, Lan Yan pushed the swim ring toward her.
The woman grabbed it immediately, visibly calming down. She clung to the ring with both arms and started coughing up water desperately.
Lan Yan asked what was wrong and was about to swim behind her when she heard splashing from behind.
Looking back, she saw Liang Jingchuan swimming over with strong strokes.
She had no time to wonder when he’d followed. She heard the woman say something about “leg,” but didn’t catch the second word.
Liang Jingchuan swam fast. By the time she got behind the woman to support her from the back and help conserve her energy while keeping her afloat, he was there.
After a few brief exchanges, Liang Jingchuan turned to her. “Calf cramp.”
Then, after more communication, Lan Yan saw the woman nod and say “OK” several times.
Liang Jingchuan said to Lan Yan, “You can let go of her now.”
Lan Yan slowly released her hold and swam to the side.
The woman clung to the swim ring, took deep breaths, relaxed her body, and gradually her legs floated up.
Liang Jingchuan instructed her to let go of one hand, reach back to grab her toes, bend her foot upward… hook the leg, straighten it, repeating several times. The woman let out a long breath and said she felt much better.
Liang Jingchuan had her maintain the floating position, then swam to her front, grasped the swim ring, and calmly towed her toward shore.
By then, the beach lifeguards, hotel staff, and paramedics had arrived. They went into the water to help bring the woman ashore, wrapped her in dry towels, and checked her over.
A staff member had several dry towels and was about to distribute them when Liang Jingchuan reached out and snatched them.
He unfolded one and draped it over Lan Yan entirely, pulling her toward him.
The force was strong; Lan Yan nearly stumbled.
Liang Jingchuan kept his head down, quickly wiping her wet hair, shoulders, arms, and skin.
When one towel got wet, he switched to another.
And he himself was still dripping water.
Lan Yan said nothing. Half because the evaporating seawater made her shiver, her teeth chattering.
The other half was because of Liang Jingchuan’s expression.
His lips were pressed tight, his gaze downcast, his face grim and cold, as if he wanted to kill someone.
Lan Yan found it a bit funny and smiled.
Liang Jingchuan looked up immediately. “What are you laughing at?”
“…Nothing.”
“Is it funny to see me worried for you?”
“I’m not…” Lan Yan said quickly, paused, then mumbled, “…Thanks.”
Liang Jingchuan said no more.
After a moment, he tilted his face to the side and smiled too—a bit like an unconvinced smirk.
“…What are you laughing at now?”
“Laughing at myself. If you went to die, I’d still pick the most comfortable path for you.”
Lan Yan’s wet lashes trembled.
After a moment, she said, “I only went to save her because I was confident.”
“I know. ‘Perfect score.’”
In Liang Jingchuan’s junior year of college, the family went on a trip to a sea island. While strolling the hotel beach at dusk, they happened upon lifeguards giving first-aid training.
Lan Junwen thought the lesson was meaningful and made the two of them listen in.
After the training, the lifeguards handed out test papers to everyone, saying they could exchange a completed one for ice cream at the restaurant.
Lan Yan had listened halfheartedly, but she took the test seriously. Midway, she went for water and came back to find her finished paper graded, with Liang Jingchuan marking her 100 points.
She was so mad she didn’t speak more than five words to him for two whole days, and her address for him dropped from “Liang Jingchuan” back to “hey.”
“…You still bring that up.” Lan Yan lifted her foot to kick him.
Liang Jingchuan chuckled but didn’t dodge.
Just as her toes were about to hit his calf, she stopped abruptly and pulled back.
Liang Jingchuan’s hair-drying slowed for a beat.
Lan Yan’s downcast eyes fell on the hem of his soaked shirt… The breeze carried the faint cold salty scent from his body to her nose.
Suddenly, Lan Yan reached out, grabbed the edges of the towel with both hands, and abruptly stepped back. She turned around and dried herself.
His hands empty, Liang Jingchuan paused, then let his arms drop.
Over there, the woman had been checked and only had minor water inhalation—no serious issues. She came over nonstop thanking the two. Perhaps Westerners were just more effusive; Lan Yan’s teeth ached as she heard her called an “angel.”
The beach was windy—not good to linger.
Lan Yan and Liang Jingchuan, each draped in a towel, walked side by side toward the indoors, silent the whole way.
It wasn’t until they entered the elevator, nearing the seventeenth floor, that Lan Yan heard Liang Jingchuan speak from behind her. “Take a hot shower and dress warmly.”
“Mm.”
“You…”
“Mm?”
“Shouldn’t have bought you that ice cream.” Liang Jingchuan’s tone held some regret.
Lan Yan didn’t know whether to be surprised or embarrassed. He could even tell that?
The elevator doors opened. Lan Yan said, “I’m heading back to my room.”
“Mm.”
Neither the cold cola nor the ice cream had defeated Lan Yan, but the unheated seawater did.
Not long after blow-drying her hair, waves of cramping pain hit her lower abdomen.
She curled up on the bed and messaged Chen Boyu to buy a box of painkillers for her.
About twenty minutes later, Chen Boyu rushed back.
He poured warm water, broke out a pill, and helped her take it.
“Weren’t you fine this morning?” Chen Boyu tucked the blanket tighter around her.
“Someone was drowning just now. I went in the water to help.”
Chen Boyu froze. “When?”
“Just now.”
Her eyes were closed, lips pale. Chen Boyu told her not to talk and to rest well until the painkillers kicked in.
Lan Yan truly had no strength to speak.
Her periods were always regular, and she’d never had pain before. This was her first time feeling like a road roller was crushing her lower abdomen back and forth.
Suddenly, Chen Boyu’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
Footsteps moved away from the bed, followed by muffled voices from the entryway.
She didn’t know who he was talking to, but Chen Boyu’s tone was troubled. He vaguely said a few “talk later”s.
Lan Yan wanted to ask but lacked the energy. It went on for a while. Perhaps the painkillers finally worked; the pain eased to a bearable level.
She drifted off to sleep in a daze.
She woke to voices in the entryway—Chen Boyu and his assistant.
The assistant said, “President Chen, if we don’t meet this time, who knows if there’ll be another chance.”
Chen Boyu replied, “I know.”
“President Ye’s assistant is also waiting for me to confirm the itinerary. At most half an hour—they won’t wait forever…”
Chen Boyu pondered for a long time. “You go back to your room first. I’ll talk to her.”
“Okay. Hurry, President Chen, or it’ll be hard to book flights.”
The door closed, footsteps approached.
Lan Yan opened her eyes and met Chen Boyu’s gaze as he bent down to check on her. She asked directly, “What’s wrong?”
“Feeling better?” Chen Boyu only asked that.
“Mm.”
Chen Boyu sat on the bed’s edge, looking at her, hesitant to speak.
“I heard you talking to your assistant. What’s going on?”
“President Ye from Radiant Chess Ventures is interested in our company and wants to chat. He’ll land in East City tonight and can give me two hours for dinner. We’re still short on funds. If Radiant Chess invests, several others on the fence will follow. President Ye’s schedule is hard to book.”
Lan Yan said calmly, “You go.”
Chen Boyu was silent for a moment, watching her, seemingly gauging if that was her true intent.
“You know I’m not one to say one thing and mean another.”
“But you’re not feeling well right now…”
“It’s not that bad anymore. Another nap and I’ll be fine.”
His phone vibrated in his pocket—probably the assistant urging him. He didn’t take it out, just took a deep breath. “Sorry, Yanyan. I’ll have dinner with President Ye and catch the red-eye back… Once the financing’s done, we…”
Lan Yan closed her eyes.
After Chen Boyu finished, he got up to call his assistant. The room rustled as he packed.
Moments later, he was back by her side. “Yanyan, I’ve told Xiao Xu in admin to be on standby. Message her if you need anything. If you’re feeling better and want food, tell her—she’ll have room service send it. I might not see messages on the plane. Leave me a note, and I’ll reply the moment I land…”
His voice flowed past her ears like plain water. Lan Yan murmured “mm.”
“I’m off, Yanyan. Keep resting.”
“Draw the curtains for me.”
“Okay.”
The room darkened.
Rapid footsteps followed, and the door closed again.
Lan Yan clutched the blanket corner tighter, eyes closed, letting her thoughts sink.
She indeed wasn’t just saying one thing but meaning another, because she absolutely didn’t want that in the future, when chatting with Chen Boyu about this matter, he would say that he had given up a great opportunity because of her.
But humans were such creatures: reason and emotion often went their separate ways.
Chen Boyu walked to the elevator with his assistant, and the doors happened to open.
It was Liang Jingchuan, who had gotten the message, coming down from upstairs.
Chen Boyu halted his steps.
Liang Jingchuan’s tone was very flat. “Are you sure about going? From my understanding of Radiant Chess, they weren’t very interested in biological materials.”
“I know. But even if Radiant Chess doesn’t invest this time, we’ve still established a connection with them. President Ye values loyalty and brotherhood; he’s not purely a business-only person.”
“You’re the decision-maker, so you make the call yourself.” Liang Jingchuan paused. “But think it through. Some opportunities only come once.”
Chen Boyu was slightly stunned.
Liang Jingchuan reached out. “Give me the room card. I’ll go check on my sister later.”
Chen Boyu hesitated slightly but still took out the room card and handed it to him. “Jingchuan, if she’s unhappy, as her brother, help console her a bit.”
“That’s not my business.” Liang Jingchuan said flatly. “Coax her yourself when you get back.”
This sentence seemed to dispel Chen Boyu’s slight, unexplained hesitation instead. He smiled and said, “I expect to be back by early morning.”
Liang Jingchuan pocketed the room card, turned, and pressed the up button. Chen Boyu quickly pressed the down button.
The two elevators arrived almost one after the other, and the two men each entered their own, one going up and the other down.
/
After the pain completely disappeared, Lan Yan slept soundly.
She seemed to have had a dream with bizarre and varied scenes, but she couldn’t remember it the moment she woke.
A hand lightly probed her forehead, as if checking for a fever.
The fingers were slightly cool. She couldn’t help but shift her head, pressing her cheek against it to absorb that coolness, and softly asked, “You didn’t leave?”
The dim room held only silence.
Lan Yan suddenly realized something. Her heart jolted, and she abruptly opened her eyes.
The light was hazy, but the eyes gazing at her held an extreme clarity and brightness.
It was as if people could be scalded by moonlight too.
Lan Yan immediately turned her head away, dodging his fingers.
“Since you don’t want him to leave, why not keep him directly?” Liang Jingchuan’s voice was calm.
Lan Yan didn’t answer.
“Afraid of troubling him?” Liang Jingchuan propped his palm on the bed’s edge and leaned in slightly, staring straight at her. “You two are really awkward at this dating thing.”
Lan Yan was slightly annoyed. “You, who’s never dated, teaching me how to date?”
“Does dating a lot mean you get good at it?”
Lan Yan pressed her lips together.
His knuckles were right next to her face, but Liang Jingchuan merely clenched his fingers without touching her.
When he spoke again, his voice was a bit hoarse. “Yanyan, someone will do better than him.”