Chapter 12 Drawing Near

Chapter 12 Drawing Near

In early August, Mou Wen received her first official paycheck. It was a whole 13,000 yuan, which felt like a fortune to her.

That 13,000 yuan wasn't easy to come by.

She had just started working full-time, mainly as an assistant to Lin Weisen. During that period, two clients that no one else wanted were assigned to her. She was burning the midnight oil, working harder than she ever had in school. Her base salary plus bonuses came to 13,000 yuan. After the housing fund and social insurance were deducted, she took home about 10,000.

One day she overheard the finance folks talking, saying how impressive Engineer Lin was, pulling in over 100,000 that month. Engineer Lin, of course, meant Lin Weisen—he worked with big-ticket, high-end clients and got huge bonuses. Mou Wen thought to herself: When will I be as good as my mentor?

She wanted to celebrate her first paycheck with someone, but Chu Ling had been sent by the company to cover the US Open pre-tournament and wouldn't be back till the end of the month. A classmate at a design institute was posted at a project site and couldn't join her either.

Wanting to make this day special, she got small cakes and coffee for her mentor and Xiao Gu in the afternoon, and also picked up an adorable bib for Xiao Gu's baby. Xiao Gu was thrilled and said, "Engineer Mou, you really didn't have to spend so much."

At the company, designers were all called "Engineer" regardless of gender. Even though she'd just started, she was now Engineer Mou. Mou Wen said to Xiao Gu, "Next month, I'll get your little one some baby chopsticks."

Xiao Gu was good to Mou Wen.

When Mou Wen first started, she often couldn't keep up. Twice, when she couldn't get away for re-measurements, Xiao Gu went during her lunch break to do it for her. Mou Wen really appreciated Xiao Gu.

Late one night after work, she walked past the famous KTV near Baishi Bridge. Outside the entrance, small groups of people stood around, looking a little tipsy. Back in school, she rarely did stuff like this—it wasn't cheap, and she could never bring herself to spend the money.

Little "Pixiu" Mou Wen decided to splurge for once and hit the karaoke! She pushed open the door, bulky backpack and all. The lights inside were wild; pretty dresses and flashy shoes flashed past her. She felt like she'd accidentally wandered into a fancy garden party. The few times she'd gone with classmates, they'd huddled together for comfort. Now she was on her own, feeling a little out of her depth.

She stuck out like a sore thumb.

She got the smallest private room. Once inside, she had no idea what to sing. Xie Chong called, saying the round knob on the custom furniture had come off, asking her to send someone to fix it.

Since that rainy night, they'd talked on the phone twice more, both times about furniture problems.

Since Mou Wen was now officially on staff and Lin Weisen was too busy, he'd handed off after-sales service for some old clients to her. Xie Chong was thrilled when he heard this—he'd shamelessly ask her about every little thing in that house.

Mou Wen thought Xie Chong was totally useless when it came to everyday stuff.

Every time a repair guy was sent out, he'd come back and tell Mou Wen: "Rich folks, huh—can't even tighten a screw themselves."

Now he was saying the door handle came off. Mou Wen blew him off casually: "Okay, okay, it's too late now. I'll file a work order for you tomorrow."

"Where are you? Why can't you do it now?" Xie Chong said. "Do it now."

"I'm at a KTV. My laptop doesn't have internet, so I can't."

"Singing by yourself? Then I'm coming too." He badgered her for the address, and half an hour later, he pushed open the door to her room.

The room was so small that when he plopped down on the other end of the couch, it felt even more cramped. Mou Wen stopped her "off-key singing" and said to him, "Hurry up and pick a song. I booked the room for an hour, and there's only five minutes left!"

Xie Chong had never seen anyone book a KTV room for just an hour—this little "Scrooge" was something else. He went out and added two more hours to the room. When he came back, Mou Wen was sitting there quietly.

He told her to keep singing, but she waved him off and said, "I'm done singing. My room time's up. Now it's your turn."

Mou Wen was messing with Xie Chong on purpose.

Xie Chong was fun, and she really liked messing with him. With coworkers, she'd stop after a joke or two, afraid of ticking them off. But with Xie Chong, she could say whatever she wanted without worrying he'd get mad—because his own mouth wasn't exactly polite either.

Xie Chong grabbed the mic and pretended to throw it at her, looking mean. Mou Wen giggled: "Come on, sing! I've never heard you sing before."

"Dream on." Xie Chong glanced at the thermos on the table and asked, "You came to sing karaoke and brought your own thermos?"

"Water's expensive," Mou Wen said seriously.

"You're not ordering any food, either?"

"I just got a jianbing downstairs from the office. Even added two eggs. I'm full."

"So you're just singing with no drinks or snacks?"

"Is that not allowed at a KTV?" Mou Wen said, all indignant. "Isn't a KTV supposed to be for singing?"

"You're right." Xie Chong laughed despite himself. He got up and went out again. When he came back, three people followed him in, carrying trays loaded with beer, snacks, cold dishes, noodles, and fruit.

He had a feeling today might be special for Mou Wen—otherwise, she wouldn't have "splurged" on karaoke. That was the kind of "wasteful" spending she never did. Since it was a special day, Xie Chong wasn't about to let it pass quietly.

"What's this?" Mou Wen asked. "You haven't eaten yet?"

"Nope," Xie Chong said.

"Then what if you can't finish all of this?"

"Throw it away if I can't." Xie Chong tossed a pair of chopsticks in front of her, plopped down in the middle of the couch, and cracked open a beer, taking a sip.

"Is it good?" Mou Wen asked.

"You're from Inner Mongolia and you're asking me if beer's good?"

"Heh heh, I don't drink much. My dad used to drive big rigs, so he couldn't drink..."

"What about now?"

"Now he delivers goods in the banners, sums, and gachas of Yakeshi. So he still can't drink."

"What do all those words mean?" Xie Chong asked. She kept saying stuff he didn't understand.

Seeing she wasn't touching her chopsticks, he added, "Come eat with me. Let's talk." He opened another beer and set it in front of Mou Wen, then clinked his bottle against hers with a crisp sound: "Cheers."

He tipped his head back and took a swig.

Foam bubbled up from the bottle and trickled down the corner of his mouth. He grabbed a napkin and casually wiped it off.

"What are we toasting to?" Mou Wen asked.

"For whatever reason. Let's just say today's a good day," Xie Chong said.

Mou Wen was thrilled—today really was a good day! She scooted over next to Xie Chong and clinked her bottle against his: "Cheers."

The door opened, and a server brought in two hot dishes. Mou Wen was surprised: "There's still more?"

"No more," Xie Chong said. "That's really it."

Only then did Mou Wen nod, relieved.

She was glad Xie Chong had shown up uninvited—it made her feel less alone. They didn't sing at the KTV; they just ate.

Mou Wen took a sip of beer, then another. When she went for a third, Xie Chong snatched the bottle away.

"Just this one. Take it easy." He could tell Mou Wen wasn't much of a drinker and worried she'd get drunk and, with all that stubborn strength of hers, trash the place.

Mou Wen did as she was told and picked up her chopsticks to dig in. On weekends, she and Chu Ling cooked proper meals at home, but on workdays they ate fast food—noodles, rice, and rice bowls. Xie Chong had ordered so much food that it had worked up her appetite. She ate with her head down, chatting with Xie Chong.

She asked about Xie Chong's business: "Honestly, I've known you for so long, but I still have no idea what you actually do. Does your family's money just rain down from the sky?"

"Why do you want to know about me? Are you planning to marry me?" Xie Chong glanced at her sideways and chuckled: "My work—how should I put it? It's not that hard. On one hand, I do art collection work—finding artworks and reselling them to people who appreciate them. It's a niche in the art market."

"I also do import-export business with a close friend—selling everyday goods overseas in bulk."

"My parents run a bearing business, and I pitch in occasionally these days."

Mou Wen tried to digest Xie Chong's work: "So everyone you deal with is loaded! Now I finally get why you're always at that place with the palace maids and eunuchs..."

"That restaurant... my business partner got scammed into buying a membership card..."

Mou Wen thought of Xie Chong standing among the palace maids and eunuchs and couldn't help but laugh. She hadn't expected his work to be so all over the place. She could barely handle one job, yet Xie Chong juggled several and still looked so chill—like he didn't even need to work.

It was only then that Mou Wen realized: grinding at a nine-to-five isn't the only way to make a living. There are a million paths, and it's all about the choices you make. And where you start matters too.

She knew Xie Chong was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

Even though he always said he was nothing in Beijing—that the city was crawling with entrepreneurs, artists, and rich people—Mou Wen knew that was just him being modest. He'd always been at the top. That's why he had more options in his career.

She was a little jealous.

But then she thought: sure, plenty of people start on top, but plenty of people climb fast too!

That thought opened up her mind again.

The day Mou Wen got her first paycheck, she realized she couldn't just work a regular job forever. She needed other options.

Seeing her lost in thought, her eyes gleaming with some weird light, Xie Chong nudged her with his elbow: "Why are you suddenly so curious about my work?"

Mou Wen snapped out of her daze and said to him, "I want to know more about you."

"Why?"

Because I can't stop myself from wanting to know you. That's what Mou Wen said in her heart.

She kept strict boundaries with Xie Chong, but in her heart, she always thought of him. She couldn't treat him as just an ordinary client, and she was afraid those feelings might throw things off balance between them, so she forced herself to act like she had nothing to hide.

Yet every time she answered his call, she hoped they'd talk a little longer.

Just like that day—they were in a karaoke room but didn't sing a single song. They just chatted, taking their time.

Mou Wen told Xie Chong about her hometown, her parents, and somehow, she ended up talking about her father's car accident. As she talked, she grabbed a tissue to wipe her tears. She was young then, only knowing her father was badly hurt, not realizing how long it would take a family to get back on their feet after something like that.

She said she knew she could be cheap sometimes, and that it was annoying, but luckily she had a few real friends who hadn't bailed on her because of it.

Xie Chong listened quietly.

He'd guessed her family wasn't well-off, but he hadn't expected it to have been that rough. He thought of her hair clip missing a flower and those shoes with the split soles, realizing she'd been doing her best.

He didn't comfort her.

He didn't know how. He'd never been through what she had. But it hurt him.

This optimistic Mou Wen, after a few sips of beer, was crying in front of him. Luckily, she quickly cheered herself up, waved a hand at Xie Chong, and said, "My dad's getting a new car this Chinese New Year!"

"Congratulations," Xie Chong said.

"Thanks." Mou Wen was back to her cheerful, goofy self again. Xie Chong deliberately leaned in to look at her—she'd just been crying, her eyes and nose all red.

"Done crying?" he asked.

"Done."

"So when are you gonna fix my door handle?" Xie Chong said. "Honestly, that handle is so ugly I don't even want to go home."

He had already moved to Wanliu.

After he unexpectedly discovered he could actually sleep well in Wanliu, he moved without hesitation.

"If I place the order tomorrow, the earliest I can come by is the day after," Mou Wen said. "Unless I fix it for you."

"You actually know how?" Xie Chong was a bit surprised. He'd always thought Mou Wen could only draw, not do hands-on work.

"I'll come take a look tomorrow," Mou Wen promised. Before they parted, she said to Xie Chong, "Thanks for coming today. You were right—today's a good day, because I got my first paycheck from my real job!"

"Then how about you cover the room fee and the food bill from earlier!" Xie Chong held out his hand to her.

Mou Wen slapped his palm with a smack, said "I'm broke," grabbed the takeout from his hands, and ran off.

The next day, Mou Wen arrived at Xie Chong's home with her toolbox.

It was her first time there since the place had been decorated. The feeling was weird—she couldn't put it into words. She stood at the door, took a couple of deep breaths, and rang the bell.

When Xie Chong opened the door and saw her toolbox, he asked, "You actually know what you're doing?"

"Of course. Nothing can stump me!" She spoke while pulling out shoe covers, just like she did at every client's home. But Xie Chong stopped her. He pulled out a pair of brand-new women's slippers and said, "Put these on."

"Really? Won't you complain about my service not being up to standard tomorrow?"

Xie Chong couldn't be bothered to respond. He took her toolbox and headed toward the living room. Mou Wen thought for a moment, then left the door wide open and walked in. Xie Chong glanced at the open door, then at Mou Wen, and let out a cold laugh: "You're wary of me?"

"Service protocol, service protocol."

"Protocol my ass!" He grabbed a bottle of water for Mou Wen and twisted off the cap. As he looked down, he noticed the cute animal-print socks on her feet.

Who would wear socks like that? he thought. Too cute for words, isn't it?

Mou Wen immediately noticed the decor in his living room. He hadn't been bragging—he did know interior styling. His styling involved beautifully arranged paintings scattered around the living room and various crafts displayed in cabinets. His aesthetic was eclectic, blending different styles together seamlessly.

It was classy. It was beautiful.

"These are all artworks I've handled," Xie Chong introduced.

"They must be expensive, right?"

"Not too bad. If you bet on an artist before they're fully famous, it's like buying futures—your odds of winning are higher."

"You're really impressive." Mou Wen stood before those pieces, marveling at how some people in this world possessed such talent.

"So do you really enjoy going to exhibitions?" she asked.

"Exhibitions?" Xie Chong nearly rolled his eyes. "Ninety percent of exhibitions on the market these days are just gimmicks. Garbage. I don't like them."

He was arrogant.

It was the first time Mou Wen saw this truly arrogant side of him. She realized that beneath his politeness toward others, there was likely judgment. He wasn't as entirely courteous as she had perceived.

Mou Wen felt he wasn't so out of reach anymore—he was becoming real and tangible.

"Should I fix the handle?"

"Come on, it's in my bedroom."

"Oh."

Mou Wen hesitated at the doorway of his bedroom for a moment.

Xie Chong gave her a gentle push on the back: "What are you doing? Meditating?"

His push carried her a step forward, and she stepped inside. Xie Chong's bedroom was almost devoid of any excess—the dark bedding was clean and neat, and the whole room had a cool, cold color scheme. The small potted flower on the wide windowsill was the only splash of color.

Xie Chong sat on the windowsill, his long legs propped on the floor. He was blocking out the sun.

He noticed how uneasy Mou Wen was—something that rarely happened with her. She didn't speak to him, nor did she look around; she walked straight to the cabinet door to inspect the handle. The repair guy who came by earlier wasn't kidding—he really couldn't be bothered to tighten a single screw himself.

She crouched down to pull tools from her toolbox, and when she stood up, she found Xie Chong suddenly standing right behind her. She yelped in shock and stumbled backward, plopping down onto the bed: "What are you doing!"

Xie Chong's hand was behind his back, tightly clutching the underwear he'd forgotten to put away, feeling awkward.