Chapter 26 They

Chapter 26: Them

The snow outside was falling heavily, pedestrians hurrying by.

Mou Wen gazed out the window, the noise of the shop behind her. She'd had some wine and caught the wind on the overpass, and now her face was as red as a ripe apple. She sat there with her chin in her hand, a cup of steaming tea before her. She was drowsy, her head nodding off, almost hitting the table, then snapping back up.

When she looked up, she got a shock—a man in a black coat was standing outside the window holding an umbrella, staring at her like something out of a horror movie.

Mou Wen flinched, leaning back so fast she almost fell off her chair.

Shrew!

Xie Chong tapped on the window to call her out. She couldn't stand to waste the tea she'd barely touched, so she asked the staff to pour it into a paper cup and took it out with her.

As she stepped out, she heard the doorbell jingle and looked up, not paying attention to the ice at the entrance. Her feet slipped out from under her, and she landed on her butt, not spilling a drop of the hot tea.

Xie Chong stepped forward and pulled her up.

"I said you were a cheapskate, and you really are." Xie Chong took the cup and raised it to his lips.

"I already drank out of that!" Mou Wen said.

"We've already kissed before." Xie Chong said, then took a big gulp and handed the cup back to her.

"Why are you holding an umbrella?" Mou Wen asked. "Why carry an umbrella in the snow?"

"I'll use it if I want to." Xie Chong thought the snow was too heavy; walking down the street, he'd be covered in it in no time. It melted on his face, leaving him all wet and annoyed. That was just how he was—full of weird little quirks that were annoying, and he knew it.

But what he didn't know was: on a snowy day like this, him holding an umbrella as he walked up the overpass was like a picture. Mou Wen watched for a few seconds before following him.

As they went up the steps, he turned back and grabbed her arm. The warmth of his hand seeped through her clothes and reached her skin.

"What's wrong?" Mou Wen asked, looking at his hand.

"The ground is slippery."

"Oh."

She let him pull her up the steps. His hand could easily slide down to hold hers, but he still held her arm through her sleeve.

The snow got heavier. She couldn't stand being so far from him in this weather, so she hurried to walk beside him and slipped under his umbrella.

The world suddenly went quiet—no more endless snow landing on her hair and eyelashes, and even the traffic noise seemed to fade. Xie Chong let go of her arm and shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

At the top of the overpass, Xie Chong stopped. He stood there with his umbrella, looking out at the snow-covered Third Ring Road. Mou Wen stood quietly beside him.

She was unusually quiet today, which was rare for her.

Xie Chong glanced at her from the side, and her eyes met his.

"You were drinking?" Xie Chong asked.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Today was the company's year-end party, and I won an award. My mentor made me drink." Mou Wen said. "My mentor's worked hard to guide me, so drinking a toast for him is the least I can do."

"Why don't you drink a toast for me?"

"If you want me to, I can." Mou Wen said, stepping closer to him, but he took a step back. She stepped closer again, and suddenly he took a big step toward her, almost bumping into her. Mou Wen yelped in surprise.

Xie Chong burst out laughing, saying, "Scared you half to death."

Mou Wen raised her fist to hit him, but he easily blocked it.

"Let's talk for a bit," he said. "New Year's is coming up. Have you finished your work?" He already knew about Mou Wen's situation from Wang Xianhe, but he didn't say a word about it.

"I'll work one more week at the company, and then we'll start our vacation." Mou Wen said. "I'm going home for New Year's. When I get back... I'm going to quit."

Xie Chong asked, "Why quit?"

"I'm not happy at work." Mou Wen said. She didn't mention Lin Weisen stealing her client at all, just said she wasn't happy. She didn't bring it up, and Xie Chong didn't ask. He knew but played dumb.

She leaned against the overpass railing, holding her cup tightly with both hands. She was thirsty and took a big gulp. Xie Chong stood beside her, holding the umbrella over both their heads.

"Come on, let's go find somewhere to sit." Xie Chong said. "Who stands on an overpass in the snow, freezing their ass off?"

"Can we go to your place?" Mou Wen said. "Let's just hang out there for a bit."

Xie Chong looked at her when he heard this. "Do you know what could happen if a woman suggests going to a man's place late at night? Are you doing this on purpose? Is it because you like me, or do you have some other agenda?"

Like him, or have another agenda.

That was a hard question to answer. Mou Wen did like him, but there was definitely something else mixed in. She knew that in people's eyes, her feelings were fake and impure—she shouldn't say them out loud.

"If you want to stay at my place, just say so. I told you before, the house is empty anyway. Is it that hard to say? Just say: Xie Chong, I'm about to lose my job, I have no next one lined up, I want to stay at your place. Is that so hard?" Xie Chong's gaze fell on her face through the snow between them. "I said we're friends, and it's normal for me to help you! Why can't you just say it directly? Why do you have to beat around the bush?"

His tone was calm, as if discussing something trivial. But his words stung Mou Wen.

"Because I don't just want to stay in your house! I want you! I want you! I want to live in your home! I want to be with you!" Mou Wen suddenly shouted, having held it in for too long. "Is that okay? That's what I think, and I've said it now, is that okay? I told you I like you, but what are you doing? You don't like me, yet you still respond to me. You bring me gifts from business trips, wait outside my door—you clearly don't like me, but you still want me to be friends with you. How am I supposed to say it? Say what?"

"What do you like about me? My house? My money? Don't tell me you like me as a person—I don't believe someone likes another person the way you do." Xie Chong said. "I don't believe it!"

How could Mou Wen explain?

She couldn't.

She turned and walked away. Xie Chong asked, "Where are you going?"

"Home!" Mou Wen said. "I'm going home. I don't want to talk to you. I'm afraid if I say one more word, I'll throw you off this overpass. Don't doubt it—I have the strength."

"I'll walk you."

"No need!"

Mou Wen didn't say a word the whole way, walking ahead on her own. Why wouldn't the alcohol wear off? She walked dizzy and dazed. She didn't look back until she got inside her door, naturally unaware that Xie Chong stood outside for a long time, only leaving when the light in her room came on and her silhouette appeared behind the curtain.

Xie Chong finally closed his damn umbrella, walking through the heavy snow. The air was biting, and he looked soaked through, the handsome man adorned by the snowfall.

Mou Wen dreamed of Xie Chong like that.

She dreamed she stood under a tree, and he stood across from her. In the dream, snow fell endlessly from the sky.

Mou Wen's gaze avoided him, but his followed her, chasing until she had nowhere to flee and had to look at him.

He stepped closer, lowered his head, and his lips landed on the corner of hers. His reaction caught her off guard, and she instinctively shrank back, but he grabbed her chin, forcing her head up, and kissed her.

Xie Chong's lips were cold, but his tongue was warm.

He tangled his tongue with hers, warm and soft, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight.

He kissed her with growing intensity. She instinctively tried to pull away, but he held her fast.

Mou Wen's dream felt so real that she heard herself cry out in it, then woke in the middle of the night.

The room was empty, and she felt just as empty. Her breathing was still ragged, and she thought: What's wrong with me? What's going on?

Then she realized her feelings for Xie Chong had slowly worked their way into the most intimate, hidden parts of her.

She was being greedy.

She wanted everything about Xie Chong—she wanted far too much. So much so that when Xie Chong said she could live in the house if she wanted, she felt like a complete jerk.

She sat up, lifted a corner of the curtain, and looked out—the snow was still falling, and the whole world had turned white. She just watched the snow, lost in thoughts of Xie Chong.

The next day was her day off.

It was strange—Mou Wen wondered if she was the only one, or if every working person felt this way: after the annual meeting, it felt like the year's work was over, and everyone just went idle.

But her idleness was only on the surface; she had a lot weighing on her mind. She needed to sketch out Mr. Chu's house in her mind. The company was charging Mr. Chu 1,350 yuan per square meter for design, which meant she'd be giving him nearly a million yuan worth of free work.

She was just thinking of contacting Mr. Chu when, coincidentally, he called.

He cut right to the chase: "Attorney Wang said you're offering to design my house for free?"

"Yes," Mou Wen said. "Free. I'll also oversee the renovation and handle the materials for free. I know the construction crews and materials on the market really well, so you don't have to worry about whether I'll do a good job."

"Why? Why would you do this?" Mr. Chu asked.

"Because I want to see if I can pull it off," Mou Wen said sincerely. "Mr. Chu's house is a showcase project—it could be my signature piece. If I keep backing down, I might not get another shot like this for years."

The only way to grab the opportunity fast was to push back.

Mr. Chu admired Mou Wen.

When Wang Xianhe had told him about this, she'd also said she admired Mou Wen. A girl like this, new to the working world, facing something like this and daring to push back—that was rare in itself.

Mr. Chu was a smart man. He understood how these companies worked: they were just platforms for designers. In the end, the quality of the renovation came down to the designer.

When he signed the contract, he noticed the change in the lead designer, but he said nothing. He hadn't expected the girl from Yakeshi to push back; he'd figured that since a Lin Weisen had jumped in, someone else might swoop in halfway through, and he'd end up saving money.

So he had Wang Xianhe kill those two proposals—though, honestly, they weren't up to his standards anyway. They were just template designs, recycled from other high-end clients, cobbled together from a stock library. He didn't want to drop nearly a million yuan on something used.

"Then I'll see you after the New Year. Thanks for all your effort," Mr. Chu said. "Since Ms. Mou has offered to design for free, I'll take you up on that. But I can't let Ms. Mou foot all the bills—I'll cover the travel and food costs during the renovation."

"Thank you, Mr. Chu," Mou Wen said. "There's one more thing I wanted to ask you: could you keep this between us until after the New Year? I want to enjoy my vacation fully and get one last perk out of the company."

"No problem," Mr. Chu said. "I'll have Attorney Wang take care of it."

After hanging up, Mou Wen let out a relieved sigh.

The hurt that had been sitting on her chest for days slowly crawled out and floated away. It felt so good she almost wanted to cry.

But she didn't.

She got dressed and headed over to Xie Chong's place.

She missed Xie Chong.

This was the first time she'd shown up uninvited at his place, and she'd already planned what to say by the time she rang the doorbell.

Xie Chong opened the door, saw Mou Wen bundled up like a stuffed animal, and the shopping bags in her hands, and immediately knew what she was up to. She was lining up her backup plan, just as she had said yesterday: she didn't just want to stay in his house for free—she wanted way more than that.

Now she was openly gunning for Xie Chong to get what she wanted.

Xie Chong secretly looked down on her for it, but he also kind of liked it.

"Anyone home? Is this a good time? I'll make you dinner," Mou Wen said, lifting the shopping bags.

Xie Chong shrugged, stepped aside, and let her in.

Mou Wen smiled at him, put the bags down, and sat on the couch.

The couch in Xie Chong's place was one she'd picked out.

No—she'd picked out everything in his house. She'd picked them thinking, "If I lived here, this is what I'd want it to look like." Back then, she was completely naive and knew nothing about the world. Everything she saw seemed good—people, things, the future—all of it.

But none of that compared to Xie Chong—he was the best man she'd ever met.

Xie Chong poured Mou Wen some water and turned around to see her lying on the couch, staring outside. Snow drifted lazily past the floor-to-ceiling window, matching her chunky turtleneck sweater.

It was like a painting.

He handed her the steaming cup and asked out of nowhere, "Aren't you hot?"

"What?"

"You're wearing a big sweater in my place—aren't you roasting?"

That reminded her.

His place was really warm, and it'd only get hotter once he started cooking. She said, "It's fine, I've got a thermal on. If I get too hot, I'll just take it off."

Xie Chong couldn't picture a woman in thermal underwear puttering around his kitchen—it was too ridiculous. He told her to follow him to the walk-in closet and grab something of his to wear around the house.

Mou Wen didn't hold back.

She picked a gray T-shirt.

Looking at Xie Chong's walk-in closet, Mou Wen could picture how he got ready to go out—he must have spent ages in there, picking and choosing, putting together the perfect outfit before heading out.

She came out wearing his clothes, and the feeling was hard to describe.

Xie Chong looked away and asked, "Where'd you leave your thermal?" He didn't get why anyone still wore thermals—what did they have to do with fashion?

Mou Wen ignored him and headed straight to the kitchen. Xie Chong took a work call, and by the time he hung up, four dishes and a soup were already on the table.

Neither of them brought up yesterday's fight. They ate and chatted pleasantly, and then Mou Wen left.

Two days later, Xie Chong came home drunk from a work dinner and called Mou Wen. She showed up fast. She made him some hangover soup. Xie Chong wasn't actually drunk. He lay on the couch, listening to her in the kitchen, and thought: How far will someone go to get what they want?

On January 26th, Mou Wen came over and made a ton of dumplings. Xie Chong asked why she'd made so many. Mou Wen said a lot of restaurants in Beijing close during New Year, so if he wanted dumplings, he could just cook them himself. What Chinese person doesn't have dumplings for New Year?

Xie Chong just said thanks and nothing else.

On January 27th, Mou Wen flew out of Beijing.

It was her first time ever flying. During takeoff, her heart felt off, and she clutched her chest, squeezing her eyes shut. Once the plane leveled out, she saw clouds upon clouds outside the window.

Wow. That's gorgeous.

Mou Wen got home and went with her dad to make deliveries out in the pastureland.

The changes that young official talked about still hadn't happened, and her dad hadn't lost his job. She stood out in the freezing open fields and called Xie Chong, wanting to share the winter of the pastureland with him. But the reception was spotty, fading in and out. She yelled "hello? hello?" over and over, but Xie Chong couldn't make out a single word. He was pissed and snapped, "If that piece-of-crap phone of yours won't work, just toss it!"

Mou Wen made a sixty-thousand-yuan down payment to buy her dad a new car.

On the day they picked it up, they deliberately drove into the pastureland. The fierce winter wind in Hulunbuir was deadly, but this time the car kept the wind out, and Mou Wen didn't have to shove tissues up her nose anymore.

She sent Xie Chong a package filled with practical things: a rolled lamb leg from Hulunbuir, a bag of milk tea powder, the little milk candies Xie Chong was crazy about, a scarf she'd knitted herself, and a postcard that read:

I miss you.

God, I miss you.

Even if you never think about me, I won't regret it.

Could we be together?