On My Way - Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - The Spring Breeze Bursts Open a Thousand Trees of Flowers

After the New Year, I was busy wrapping up my previous project while frantically reviewing new project proposals. The real estate development market was increasingly sluggish, and suitable projects were pitifully scarce.

My heart burned with anxiety.

Cheng Xia asked, "Isn't it nice to leave and arrive at work on time?"

I replied, "I'm not like other people."

You're only a project manager if you have projects to manage; without one, you're absolutely nothing. If I don't take advantage of my youth to build up some solid achievements, how can I ever establish a foothold in the company?

Cheng Xia laughed. "You, you’re anxious when there’s trouble, and if there’s no trouble, you’ll invent some just so you can be anxious."

I retorted, "Easy for you to say while you're standing there!"

He obediently raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry, my mistake! My girlfriend is the absolute best!"

...My face turned bright red in an instant.

Just a moment ago, I was like a chestnut sitting on a fire, always worried that I might crack open with a loud pop.

Now, I had suddenly turned into a chestnut cake—soft and sweet.

He said, "The company is going skiing for a team-building event this weekend. We can bring partners. Want to go?"

I replied rather affectedly, "I’ll have to think about it."

In reality, how could I not go? With all those young girls at his company eyeing him, I’d crawl there if I had to.

We had to go to headquarters for a meeting on Friday. It finished at five, and he was supposed to pick me up right then so we could head straight to the ski resort.

Meetings at headquarters were notoriously long and tedious.

One speaker insisted on starting from world shifts and macroeconomic policies... If I could understand that nonsense, I’d already be sitting in your seat, shaking my leg in authority.

Another speaker loved to complain about how hard they had it.

Headquarters was satisfied with my project—after all, it was a low-bid project, so it was a miracle it had any profit at all—and the big boss even gave me a special mention.

But most projects had failed to meet expectations, and there weren’t many new projects coming in.

The Chairman complained, then the General Manager, then the Vice Presidents, then the Department Managers...

Translating all that into plain speech: The company is in a tough spot, and if any of you bastards don't work hard, I'm firing you!

Most of us sitting in the back were either drowsy or furiously eating oranges. I didn't dare sleep or eat, because Old Feng was sitting in the leadership row; a casual glance from him and he’d spot me.

Old Feng hated people who were sloppy or lacked proper posture.

Even though my cervical spondylosis was acting up, I kept my spine straight as a rod the entire time.

Holding out until five o'clock, it was finally over.

Everyone was taking photos or leaving. Just as I was about to call Cheng Xia, I received a WeChat message from Old Feng asking me to wait for him in his office.

I had no choice but to tell Cheng Xia, "Director Feng wants to discuss something with me; I might be a little late."

Cheng Xia replied, "No problem. I’ll wait across from your office building."

This was the first time I had been to Old Feng's office since that incident.

He was still drinking tea. He said, "The last project was finished well, especially the schedule—it was very precise."

I said, "Thank you for the recognition, Director. It’s only because of the support from you and the company that everyone worked so diligently to meet every milestone. It doesn't have much to do with me personally."

Old Feng hummed in acknowledgment, asked me a few questions about the branch office, and then gave me some work: I needed to summarize the minutes of the meeting just now, specifically the data analysis for each project, and have it to him by next week.

We both knew full well that his secretary could have done this.

The reason he assigned it to me was to maintain the subtle connection of me being "his own person."

Back and forth we went, talking for an hour and a half.

I kept a smile on my face, but inside, I was burning with impatience.

Cheng Xia was still waiting for me, and his colleagues might even be waiting for him to leave. I didn't even have a way to send him a message to let him know.

Finally, Old Feng finished talking. He picked up his coat and said, "Let's go."

I glanced at my phone. Thirty minutes ago, Cheng Xia had called me, and then sent a text saying, "Let me know when you're done."

I hurriedly replied: "It's finished. I'm coming out now."

Old Feng turned back and signaled me, "What are you waiting for? Keep up."

My heart sank. I wanted to refuse, but in the next moment, I saw the other executives in the hallway.

...I absolutely could not lose face for the leader at this moment.

We walked out. I opened the car door for Old Feng and sat in the passenger seat. Before getting in, I looked toward the entrance.

Cheng Xia’s car was parked there.

He probably hadn't eaten yet—he never ate anything from street vendors or inside a car.

"I'm so sorry. The boss said we're going out to eat, and I have to accompany him."

Cheng Xia replied with a question mark.

"Didn't you tell them you already had plans?"

How could I say that? The boss was giving me an opportunity; I couldn't be ungrateful, could I?

But I didn't know how to explain this to Cheng Xia; he wouldn't understand.

I had no choice but to say: "I'm so sorry. You should go ahead; don't wait for me."

Cheng Xia: "But I've been waiting for you for nearly two hours."

Me: "I'm so sorry!!"

Cheng Xia: "...How much longer will it take?"

I said: "...I don't know."

He replied with a "Got it" sticker and didn't speak again.

We arrived at a rustic-style restaurant. It looked plain on the outside, and the menu was completely indecipherable once you looked at it.

As the youngest with the least seniority, I ran back and forth pouring tea and wine for the leaders.

"Xiao Ren is good, she's got a sharp eye..." one leader said. "There aren't many young girls like her these days."

Old Feng laughed, "She still needs more practice!"

Someone said something in Minnan dialect, and everyone burst into loud laughter. I couldn't understand it, so I just had to force a laugh along with them, which only made them laugh even more exaggeratedly.

Later, I realized this was essentially a circle of acquaintances; the leaders were all from the same faction. As the wine flowed, they stopped sitting upright discussing industrial development and started spouting off various vulgarities and dirty jokes.

A subordinate, especially a woman in this kind of setting, is obviously uncomfortable. But what could I do? When the leader said he’d never heard of Northeast Errenzhuan, I had to spin a handkerchief and belt out "The Little New Year Greeting."

They laughed until they were crying.

My tears were falling too.

Old Feng was also drunk. Even though I had blocked eighty percent of the alcohol for him, he placed his hand on the back of my chair and said, "You... you... you're disobedient."

I immediately stood up to grab the freshly served scallion oil noodles, fawning over him, "Director, do you want to eat some carbs? It might make your stomach feel better."

He shook his head, leaned in close to me, and lowered his voice, "If you complete a few more projects this year, there will be a spot at headquarters next year..."

My heart began to race wildly. My hand was shaking as I ladled the noodles for him.

Impatient, he took the bowl, tossed it aside, and continued, "During this time, first, do your work well. Second, raise your academic credentials. Don't make things difficult for me, understand?"

"I understand."

He reached out as if he wanted to pat my head, but as he drew closer, he lowered his hand instead and said, "Go."

It was past ten o'clock when the meal finished. I hugged the toilet and vomited violently. After seeing all the leaders off one by one, I couldn't hold it in anymore and sat down against the wall, utterly exhausted.

It was freezing, and my stomach hurt.

I took out my phone. On the screen was a photo I’d secretly taken of Cheng Xia. He was reading a book called "Unfinished: History of Anti-Architecture." The afternoon sunlight fell on his face, gentle and clean, like a hot-dried white shirt.

He was just too suited to be someone else's "white moonlight." I thought to myself: he’d been that beautiful for so many years, and every time I saw him, I felt a crescent moon rise in my heart.

I sent him a WeChat: "I'm so sorry. It's my fault today. Did you manage to get any skiing in?"

He replied after a long while: "Yeah. Have you finished eating?"

Me: "Just finished. This group of people must have been reincarnated wine barrels. They almost drank me to death."

He: "Then come out. I’m waiting for you outside."

I stood up in disbelief and saw a car not far away flash its lights.

Cheng Xia stepped out of the car. A smear of streetlamp light acted like flowing moonlight, illuminating his slightly helpless smile.

I ran toward him. It was a true "spring breeze bursting open a thousand trees of flowers"—despite the lingering chill of early spring, the white magnolias along the street had all bloomed. The flowers were plump, like a thousand soft, white doves.

I buried my head in his chest. He was warm, smelling of crisp, clean soap with a hint of citrus.

"Why did you come?" I heard my own voice, slightly hoarse from having drunk too much.

"I still wanted to take you skiing, so I just followed your cars," he said. "Who knew you guys would eat for so long?"

"You haven't eaten anything yet, have you?"

"Of course not." His voice actually sounded a bit angry. "But..."

He pushed me away, pointed to a bag in the passenger seat, and smiled, "I bought a KFC bucket to eat with you."

Yes! That’s perfect! I didn't even get enough to eat earlier! I love KFC buckets the most!

I didn't even know how to nod to express my happiness; I wanted to do backflips.

Just then, a car horn sounded in the distance. We both turned back and looked; it was actually Old Feng's car, which had turned around and returned.

Old Feng stepped out of the car. He didn't have a trace of drunkenness. He looked at me and said, "Dongxue, who is this? Introduce us.”