Blossom through the Cloud - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Back at home, Ruan Sixian stood in front of the mirror for a very long time.

How could he possibly not remember her?

Was her face really that generic and forgettable?

That simply wasn't possible.

After pondering for a long time without coming to any conclusion, Ruan Sixian could only attribute it to Fu Mingyu being a man of a thousand daily affairs with an overloaded brain, leading him into early-onset dementia. She decided she needed to be kind to him.

The benevolent Ruan Sixian decided to go sweat it out. There was no foul mood that could not be cured by exercise; if there was, it simply meant the workout volume wasn't high enough.

The new residential complex where Ruan Sixian had rented her apartment featured a beautifully landscaped gym. It was provided as a perk by the property management for homeowners and was not open to the outside public, so it wasn't crowded. Visiting for the very first time today, she noticed only a handful of people in the equipment area.

Seeing the clean towels and bottled mineral water, coupled with the complete absence of pushy personal trainers trying to hard-sell memberships, Ruan Sixian felt her rent was money well spent.

The gym was very quiet, save for the occasional upbeat rhythm of music drifting over from the adjacent dance studio. Moving to the beat of that music, Ruan Sixian stepped up the hydraulic fluid resistance of the machine.

Until a male voice interrupted her focus.

"Hey there, beauty. Mind adding me on WeChat?"

A pair of running shoes entered her field of vision first. Raising her gaze, she saw a man in his late twenties looking at her with a beaming smile, holding no phone in his hands.

The refusal in Ruan Sixian's eyes couldn't have been more obvious, yet the man merely chuckled and reached out to tap the arm-training machine.

"Not bad at all. As expected of a pilot—that arm strength really isn't something ordinary people can compare to."

Ruan Sixian raised an eyebrow.

Who on earth are you?

The man turned to face Ruan Sixian, extending a hand. "Yan Ang. 'Yan' as in banquet, 'Ang' as in safety."

Yan Ang?

Ruan Sixian gave him a sweeping glance.

Though this guy looked quite flippant and roguish, ordinary people wouldn't dare parade around bearing that name.

"President Yan, hello." As she shook hands with Yan Ang, she asked, "How did you recognize me?"

"Didn't I see your photo beforehand? I noticed you the moment you walked in, though I wondered how such a coincidence could happen."

Yan Ang leaned against the arm machine with a laid-back posture.

He glanced at Ruan Sixian's arms and added, "Still, seeing you work out on this pretty much confirmed it."

"I see..."

Some people, despite wearing expensive clothing, naturally exuded a friendly and approachable aura, and Yan Ang clearly belonged to that category. Although he seemed somewhat unserious, he carried absolutely zero airs. Before she knew it, Ruan Sixian found herself chatting with him extensively. She learned that he also lived in this complex, having just returned from Beijing Airlines headquarters. Taking advantage of a rare day off, he had come here to get some exercise.

What Yan Ang didn't mention, however, was that he only occasionally stayed here for a night.

Still, it didn't matter; from this moment onward, he would be living here permanently.

Mentioning Beijing Airlines prompted Yan Ang to start poking fun at Fu Mingyu again. "What a real shame you went to Hengshi and ended up working under Fu Mingyu. That guy is an absolute hypocrite through and through. He usually looks like an unapproachable iceberg who hates to talk, but once you tick him off, he'll make you wish you were never born. You better watch out."

Ruan Sixian smiled and said she would.

Seeing her expression remain entirely relaxed, Yan Ang grew even less restrained. He sat down on the nearby abdominal crunch machine and continued, "Look at me—I'm so easy to get along with. If you had come to Beijing Airlines, we'd be working happily every single day. How great would that be, right?"

Yan Ang was mostly just running his mouth, but as the two chatted away, the conversation naturally drifted back to Ruan Sixian herself.

"You used to work at Commercial Aircraft Corporation, right? What made you decide to become a pilot?"

Ruan Sixian nodded. "Mhm, I joined three years ago. It happened to coincide with the final deadline for self-sponsored pilot recruitment, so I figured I'd give it a shot."

"That's pretty neat. I know a lot of people within Commercial Aircraft Corporation apply internally, but the ones who actually pass the selection process are few and far between." Yan Ang rubbed his chin, suddenly recalling something. "Oh right! We have a dispatcher over at Beijing Airlines who used to be with Commercial Aircraft Corporation, too. Seems she was even in the same cohort as you at the flight academy."

"Ah, yes, that's Si Xiaozhen. We know each other. We went to Commercial Aircraft Corporation together back then, but later she didn't pass the evaluations at the flight academy and switched careers to become a dispatcher."

"Mhm, dispatchers are great too—basically ground-bound captains."

By this point, Yan Ang realized he had probably taken up quite a bit of Ruan Sixian's time, so he stood up to take his leave. "Well, you carry on. I've got some things to take care of, so I'll head out first."

Ruan Sixian nodded and rose to walk toward another piece of equipment.

Yan Ang turned back and added, "Oh right, seriously though, let's add each other on WeChat. Even if we can't be colleagues, we can still be friends, right?"

Given that the two of them had practically spent time chatting back and forth, Ruan Sixian certainly wouldn't refuse. She told him her phone number could be used to search for her WeChat account, and Yan Ang walked away with a grin.

However, the time Yan Ang spent chatting with Ruan Sixian directly resulted in him running late for his friends' gathering.

It wasn't a major issue, though; it was just a casual get-together among friends, nothing critical. It just so happened that quite a few of them were free today.

Inside a top-floor private VIP suite at the Warner Manor in the western suburbs of Jiangcheng, only a single pale-yellow ceiling lantern was lit, absorbing and dissolving most of the rising white cigarette smoke in the room. Specially crafted carved-wood screens served the same filtering purpose, meaning that although most of the men in the suite held cigarettes between their fingers, there was no choking or pungent odor to speak of.

Yan Ang pushed open the door, and the first sight that greeted him was a table of people playing cards. He called out, "I'm feeling lucky today. Make room and let me in."

Someone at the card table glanced up at him. "You have the nerve to show up late? Beat it."

Yan Ang chuckled flippantly and walked around the screen to find the restroom.

A few people were sitting on the sofa over there—both men and women—but Yan Ang's eyes immediately locked onto Fu Mingyu sitting dead in the center.

"Well, look at that. Did the sun rise from the west today? Even the ever-busy President Fu managed to show up?"

The lighting behind the screen was dim. Fu Mingyu had a cigarette clamped between his lips and was leaning forward to grab a lighter from the table. Hearing the voice, he paused for a moment, lifted his chin, and swept a completely expressionless glance over at Yan Ang.

At that moment, a woman sitting beside him cleverly clicked her lighter, leaning her upper body forward to present the flickering flame right in front of Fu Mingyu.

Fu Mingyu glanced at her with the exact same lack of emotion he had just given Yan Ang.

The woman looked at Fu Mingyu nervously, her hand trembling slightly as the flame flickered.

Ultimately, he turned his head slightly and took a gentle drag. The tip of the cigarette glowed with a red light, which gradually expanded and brightened with his inhalation, illuminating almost his entire face.

It also lit up the woman's eyes, bringing a radiant smile to her face.

Yet the very next second, while exhaling a plume of curling white smoke, Fu Mingyu placed the cigarette down beside the ashtray.

That cigarette sat there, slowly burning out on its own.

Yan Ang emerged from the restroom and claimed a seat right next to Fu Mingyu.

He glanced at the woman beside Fu Mingyu and teased, "Oho, is this President Fu's girlfriend?"

Fu Mingyu sat with his back to the woman, shooting a sideways look toward Yan Ang.

It took Yan Ang a moment to process the look. After sizing the woman up twice, he finally figured out what Fu Mingyu was silently conveying: What do you take me for? Do you think I have trash taste like you and go for plastic surgery faces?

That was downright insulting. Yan Ang felt his tastes had certainly leveled up recently.

Just then, Zhu Dong's girlfriend beside the card table pointed at Yan Ang. "Don't talk nonsense over there. That's my friend, just tagging along to hang out today. Oh, right, let me introduce you—this is Xia Yiyi. You know her, right?"

As soon as the sister-in-law said that, soft chuckles rippled around the room.

Who didn't know that Yan Ang was obsessed with internet celebrities? There wasn't a single person in their social circle who understood the intricate dramas between web influencers better than he did.

Yet ignoring everyone else's teasing, the moment the name "Xia Yiyi" hit his ears, Yan Ang stretched out his neck for a better look, staring unblushingly until Xia Yiyi grew visibly flustered. Only then did Yan Ang realize he was being rude and gave a couple of dry coughs to mask his awkwardness.

He knew the name, all right, but how come she looked nothing like her photos?

To make matters worse, Fu Mingyu, sitting right beside him, caught his expression of utter shock and actually let out a rare, faint smile before standing up to head over to the card table to watch the game.

This left Yan Ang seated right next to Xia Yiyi.

What the hell was the meaning of this...

Yan Ang and Xia Yiyi exchanged glances. The latter offered a polite smile, though her gaze quickly drifted back to Fu Mingyu's retreating back.

Yan Ang shot a cold sneer at Fu Mingyu's back, got up as well, and walked over to stand right next to him again, leaning against Zhu Dong's shoulder.

"Play the four of dots. Do you even know how to play cards? If not, get up and let me play. President Fu, you playing or what? How about the two of us go hit a couple of rounds of billiards?"

Fu Mingyu lit a cigarette, adopting his eternal tone of being too lazy to deal with him. "Not interested."

"I'd say that little sister over there looks plenty interested in you."

"Is that so?" Fu Mingyu replied indifferently, watching out of the corner of his eye as Xia Yiyi and Zhu Dong's girlfriend linked arms and headed toward the door, pausing to glance back at him one last time as they left.

Fu Mingyu acted as though he hadn't noticed the lingering gaze at all. Once they were out the door, he remarked, "I have zero desire to see my name plastered across entertainment news headlines alongside an internet celebrity, only to have my entire family background dug up and shredded to pieces by obsessed fans after a breakup, leading to my grandfather confiscating my car keys."

Another wave of uproarious laughter erupted around the card table.

Accustomed to being mocked by Fu Mingyu, Yan Ang offered another cold snort and ignored him. Hooking his arm around Zhu Dong's neck, he announced, "Oh right, I met a female pilot recently. Let me tell you, she is an absolute stunner—even prettier than those female celebrities. Would you guys believe she's actually a pilot?"

Fu Mingyu's gaze flickered slightly as his index finger curled inward, flicking a clump of ash off his cigarette.

Hearing about a female pilot who was "prettier than female celebrities," how could the minds of the men gathered at the card table possibly remain focused on those hard tiles of mahjong?

"Seriously? Let's see a picture."

Yan Ang fished out his phone, his eyes brimming with smug triumph. "Sure thing, let me flip through my Moments. I'm not exaggerating—if I can manage to bag a female pilot as my wife, my old man would wake up laughing even in his sleep, and probably head straight to the ancestral hall to kowtow in gratitude for the ancestors' blessings."

Zhu Dong sorted his tiles, casting a sideways glance at Yan Ang. "Not bad, moving fast, aren't you? Just yesterday you were almost dragged onto the trending search topics by your ex-girlfriend, and today you've already scored a female pilot's WeChat. But she's a woman who takes to the skies—would she ever give someone like you the time of day?"

Yan Ang arched a brow, his fingers swiping rapidly across the screen.

"You can't say that for sure. Oh, and by the way, President Fu here is truly formidable—he managed to snatch this person right out from under our noses at Beijing Airlines." Mid-sentence, he turned his head to glare at Fu Mingyu. "President Fu, you poached my person, but surely you won't block freedom of romance, right?"

Yan Ang simply had a toxic mouth; knowing full well he would only receive a signature Fu-style cold sneer in return, he said it anyway.

"That's hardly guaranteed."

Pretending not to hear Fu Mingyu's remark, Yan Ang kept thumbing through his phone. "Huh, no selfies in her Moments. Tsk, true beauties are like that—they don't bother taking pictures usually."

The rest of the group chuckled and jeered; they knew his routine well enough by now, considering how he always bragged about every single girlfriend the exact same way.

Only Fu Mingyu nonchalantly cast his gaze down toward Yan Ang's phone screen.

Yan Ang exited WeChat, dug through his email inbox for a long while until he finally tracked down the resume his assistant had forwarded to him, downloaded the first file, scrolled to the middle, opened the image, and thrust the phone right into the center of the card table.

"Take a look, take a look. Don't say I'm blowing smoke."

Several gazes froze on the phone screen simultaneously. The private suite plunged into a moment of absolute stillness, the men's collective hormones noticeably thickening amidst the tobacco haze.

Amidst this split-second wave of breathtaking admiration, Zhu Dong made the first move, snatching the phone away. Glancing at it twice wasn't enough; just as his two fingers were about to pinch the screen to zoom in on the photo, his girlfriend and Xia Yiyi walked back into the room.

Before anyone could make a sound, Zhu Dong executed a masterclass in self-preservation by tossing the phone aside and bellowing, "Play your cards, people! Are we playing or not?"

Yan Ang rolled his eyes, about to retrieve his own phone, when it was snatched away once more by someone across the table, who smirked at Fu Mingyu. "Aren't you gonna come take a look?"

With one hand shoved casually into his pocket, Fu Mingyu ignored him and turned toward the sofa instead.

The person chuckled, looking down to zoom in on the picture. After studying it for a long while, he clicked his tongue in wonder. "Tsk tsk, this aura is unreal. Once you put her in that uniform... Say, who among us here is a uniform fetishist? Zhu Dong, didn't you take a closer look? I remember you've always had a thing for uniforms."

With his girlfriend standing right there, Zhu Dong shot him a murderous glare. "Cut the crap. When have I ever been into uniforms?"

Turning his gaze back toward Fu Mingyu's direction, the rest of the group followed suit, accompanied by intentionally muffled laughter.

At the center of it all, Fu Mingyu wore a brooding, darkened expression as he leaned down to grind out his cigarette butt.

That very night, Ruan Sixian was lying in bed with a facial sheet mask applied when she received a friend request notification.

With no introductory note attached, Ruan Sixian could only guess who it might be based on the profile picture and display name.

Still, women possessed a natural sixth sense. After studying it for a brief moment, Ruan Sixian knew precisely who was on the other end.

Ruan Sixian sighed. Her long-dormant Moments feed finally received a brand-new post.

[Why doesn't the WeChat friend request system include a "Reject" option? What a crying shame—you can't let the other party see the word "Reject" shining right back at them in plain text. Adding a button that says "Permanently block all requests from this person" would make it even better.]

Bo Yang, who happened to be scrolling through his Moments at that exact moment, was the very first to reply.

Bo Yang: Probably to protect the other person's self-esteem. Just ignore people like that [grin]

Ruan Sixian nodded in agreement and replied: You make a fair point [thumbs up]. Looks like I didn't think it through as thoroughly as you did. WeChat is just too humane.

Catching sight of this comment, Bo Yang couldn't suppress a laugh. His gossipy instincts instantly flared up, and he wanted to type out a reply to keep the conversation going, completely failing to notice Fu Mingyu speaking to him right beside him.

It wasn't until a cool, piercing gaze locked onto him from the side that Bo Yang finally sensed something was amiss. He offered an awkward, sheepish smile. "President Fu, what did you just say?"

The car was speeding along the highway, neon lights blurring outside the window in a flash of shifting shadows. Fu Mingyu lifted his brow slightly, visibly impatient.

Suffice it to say, it was fortunate he hadn't actually brought up anything crucial, especially since Bo Yang zoning out like this was an extreme rarity.

"What are you smiling at?"

Bo Yang rubbed his nose and muttered, "Nothing much. Just reading that female pilot's Moments post. She has quite a bit of personality."

Assuming Fu Mingyu had only asked out of casual curiosity, Bo Yang gave a casual reply, never expecting the follow-up question.

"What is it?"

Bo Yang handed his phone over for Fu Mingyu to take a glance.

Just a single glance.

Fu Mingyu's complexion darkened at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"Is it funny?"