The Early Spring - Extra Chapter 13

Side Story 13 - Nian Tao

Shang Zhitao chose the site for her branch company within the same business park where Lin Chun'er was located.

That business park offered certain government subsidies as well as numerous incubators, making the rent relatively cheap. She rented a three-story office unit, with the rent and interior renovation eating up most of her savings. Someone had suggested she apply for a business loan, but after lengthy consideration, she decided against it.

The renovation of the company had begun earlier. Since it was inconvenient for Shang Zhitao while she was in Harbin, Sun Yu, Lumi, and Lin Chun'er took turns keeping an eye on things for her, and Luan Nian would also drop by to check on it whenever he returned to Beijing. Shang Zhitao felt guilty about troubling them, but Lumi simply laughed at her, saying she didn't know how to live: "Aren't friends meant to be troubled? What else? Wine and dine together normally, then hide behind everyone's back when trouble arises? That would be utterly shameless."

With rent swallowing up more than half her funds, Shang Zhitao felt that money was truly not built to last—it disappeared in the blink of an eye. Consequently, the interior design was kept extremely simple. In Lin Chun'er's words: This is called minimalist industrial style. However, she equipped the office with high-quality supplies. The cost of hiring in Beijing was relatively high, and she also needed to pay a business performance deposit, leaving her short on cash.

That evening, before the recruitment process began, she passed in front of Luan Nian several times while he was teaching Nian Tao to recognize colors.

She was hesitating, something weighing on her mind, yet she couldn't bring herself to speak up.

Shang Zhitao had never borrowed money from Luan Nian. Even though they were married, she still felt his money was his own.

That night, after Nian Tao went to sleep, the two lay in bed, and Luan Nian asked her how progress was going. She recounted everything to him in detail.

"Do you have something to tell me?" Luan Nian had seen her pacing back and forth so many times.

Shang Zhitao didn't know how to start. Her fingers traced circles on his chest, and only after a long silence did she say: "Could you lend me some money?"

"How much?"

"Around 1.2 million should do it." She had asked Sunny to help run the numbers: if she hired 25 people in the initial phase, a one-million-yuan employee cost could sustain operations for three months. As for how things would look after three months, that would depend on her luck and opportunities.

"No." Luan Nian thoroughly loathed the word "borrow." He always felt using that word between husband and wife made things seem overly distant. He had never intended to keep a tally of everything with Shang Zhitao; after going back and forth for so many years, it was impossible to calculate clearly anyway. Since it couldn't be calculated clearly, then staying entwined together—entwined for a lifetime—was actually quite wonderful.

"Oh. Then I'll think of another way."

"What way are you planning to think of?" Luan Nian asked her.

"Maybe I'll ask Sun Yu? Lumi? Chun'er? I have so many wealthy friends..."

"Are you out of your mind?"

Luan Nian sat up and glared at her, the two of them locking horns under the dim glow of the nightlight. After a moment, Luan Nian picked up his phone and sent her a file.

"What's this?" Shang Zhitao asked before opening the file.

"A will."

"? Are you out of your mind?" Shang Zhitao absolutely hated jokes like this. She felt the word "will" carried outright malice. Glaring at Luan Nian, she gasped and panted in pure anger.

Luan Nian took her phone, tapped to open it, and held it before her eyes—it really was a will. Scrolling down the screen with his finger, it displayed a full inventory of his current assets alongside distribution instructions. He said to Shang Zhitao: "It's been notarized. When the time comes, reach out to Song Qiuhan and Lin Chun'er; we share the same lawyer."

Tears spilled from Shang Zhitao's eyes: "What are you doing? Why are you writing a will? Why are you doing this?"

"I really can't help but laugh at you, Ms. Shang Zhitao," Luan Nian said, pinching her chin. "What are you crying for? I'm not dead! This is a lifestyle choice—it's already very common nowadays. I just saw Song Qiuhan looking into it earlier and followed suit. Chen Kuannian wrote one too, and so did Tan Mian."

Wiping her tears, Shang Zhitao didn't forget to tease Tan Mian: "He's all alone, a single man—who is he leaving all that money to?"

"Donating it to designated institutions." Luan Nian wiped her tears away roughly: "Have you cried enough? Once you're done crying, listen to me."

Luan Nian cupped Shang Zhitao's face: "I want to grow old with you, but life is unpredictable. There's never anything wrong with making preparations early—do you agree with that? What I also want to tell you is that I don't like keeping everything so strictly separate between us after marriage. Maybe you think that keeping things distinct makes for a clean break if needed. But I don't see it that way. I want us to have the look of a traditional family. I'm handing my entire life and fortune over to you; those are the retreat route for you and Nian Tao. Do you understand?"

"I don't want it. I can make money on my own." Shang Zhitao disliked such a tragic and solemn arrangement. Ever since giving birth to Nian Tao, she had become extraordinarily terrified of falling ill. Having never been someone who treasured her life so fiercely before, she no longer dared to stay up late. Once reckless, she had now begun to tread with caution.

She had become afraid of losing things, not daring to lose anything.

Luan Nian looked at her for a long time, then pulled her down to lie back, switching off the lamp.

In the darkness, both of them kept their eyes wide open.

"I won't lend you a million. Because you have the right to dispose of all my money. If you're not used to it, then treat it as our shared living fund. Once your capital turns over, you can deposit it back."

"Okay."

Shang Zhitao hugged Luan Nian tightly.

This night had delivered too great an impact to her. She knew Luan Nian loved her, and she knew Luan Nian loved Nian Tao, but what was the ultimate truth of marriage? Some said marriage was a company jointly run by two people: only with the right direction, feasible strategies, and a clear division of labor could it endure. Shang Zhitao used to agree with this view, but now she felt that her marriage with Luan Nian wasn't a company. It was more like a seed buried underground. The two of them diligently watered it, fertilized it, and weeded it, waiting for this seed to grow. Unlike starting a company, this didn't require grand ambitions; it was simply tending to a single seed.

"I'm quite glad Nian Tao's temper isn't like mine," Luan Nian suddenly said out of nowhere. He knew he had never been easy to get along with, carrying many awkward and hard edges in his character—he was precisely what others called "fussy." During Shang Zhitao's pregnancy, he had thought that if Nian Tao's temper and character resembled his, that would be fine too; at least she would grow up to be a girl who was "not to be mess'd with." But Luan Nian would also feel sad, fearing she would find it hard to make friends and worrying that she might feel lonely. Taking after Shang Zhitao was best—working hard in silence without fighting or snatching, free of jealousy and complaints, with a tenaciously resilient vitality. It would also make it easier for her to form genuine friendships.

"I'm also quite glad she doesn't take after you," Shang Zhitao let out a soft giggle in the dark. If her temper matched his, she would have to deal with two foul tempers, and she would be far too pitiful. Sometimes when she watched Luan Nian take care of Nian Tao, she felt that the greatest challenge Luan Nian faced in his life was probably how to avoid being assimilated by his daughter.

He might not even have noticed it himself, but when he was with Nian Tao, he was damnably gentle.

Luan Nian reached his hand under her nightgown and pinched her waist: "Say that again?"

"I won't say it anymore." Sensing a mild sting of pain, Shang Zhitao held her tongue. Noticing Luan Nian taking action, his palm pressed against her skin and moved slowly upward, his light calluses brushing against her skin with a faint tickling sensation.

The night was truly enchanting.

Neither of them dared to make a sound beneath the quilt, their foreheads and faces drenched in sweat from the heat. Shang Zhitao moved to lift the quilt, only to be covered back up by Luan Nian. Acting wild, he whispered: "Don't disturb my daughter's sleep."

"Your daughter wouldn't wake up even if thunder rolled."

"Still not allowed."

Luan Nian sealed her lips, making her feel as though she were about to suffocate. Torrid heat and pleasure tormented her in turns, making her a little irritable. Finally, she bit into Luan Nian's shoulder in one go: "I don't want the quilt."

"Alright."

Luan Nian got out of bed, scooped her up, and walked to the bathroom. Closing the door, he said to her: "You can make noise now."

Shang Zhitao felt Luan Nian was far too biased: "You only love Nian Tao."

"Is that so?" Luan Nian chuckled: "Nonsense."

The two of them carried on for a while before taking a shower. By the time they lay back in bed, they felt unable to keep their eyes open, sinking into a deep sleep.

Shang Zhitao's branch company finally set sail.

On the day of its official opening, Sun Yu organized a small ribbon-cutting ceremony for her, saying it was to bring good fortune.

Shang Zhitao felt a bit uncomfortable with such a high-profile display, but unable to turn down her group of friends, the ceremony ultimately went ahead.

She specifically put on light makeup that day and dressed exceptionally well. There weren't many people attending to observe the ceremony in the first place—aside from the dozen or so employees who had already joined, the rest were all friends. Feeling it looked too sparse, she invited her friends to cut the ribbon together.

"That won't do," Lin Chun'er refused. "This is your big moment; we're just observers and minor shareholders. But I suggest you invite your company's invisible major shareholder to cut the ribbon with you." She was referring to Luan Nian, as Shang Zhitao had used a sum of his money.

Luan Nian stood there putting on airs. Clearly wanting to join, he nevertheless waited for Shang Zhitao to invite him. Seeing his arrogant yet insufferable look, Shang Zhitao burst out laughing. She then asked him: "Would President Luan grant us the honor?"

"Barely."

Luan Nian let out a subtle smile and stood by her side.

Shang Zhitao pulled Lin Chun'er and Sun Yu to stand on the other sides, as they had also invested a little money.

Taking more than nine months, Shang Zhitao had finally approached her pre-pregnancy state. Lin Chun'er was warm, Sun Yu was efficient, and Luan Nian carried that distinct posture of his—a few people standing there, outshining countless others in the world.

As the scissors were picked up, the photographer said: "Count to three and all the bosses start cutting." He then lifted his wrist to check the auspicious time.

Luan Nian suddenly turned his head and said to Shang Zhitao: "Shang Zhitao, welcome back to Beijing."

Shang Zhitao's heart stirred immensely. This single sentence probably contained over ten years of her life—from the moment she dragged her luggage out of Beijing Railway Station on that rainy day, to her departure, and then to her return.

It was as if her prime years had passed, yet it also felt as though she were still in her prime.

A thousand emotions welled up in her heart.

During the grand dinner gathering that evening, Sun Yu and Zhang Lei drank a lot of alcohol. Midway through, they walked up to Shang Zhitao and pulled her off to the side. Zhang Lei raised his glass toward the sky: "A toast to our brothers."

"A toast to youth." Sun Yu's eyes reddened slightly.

"A toast to the years," Shang Zhitao said.

The passage of years was something both tangible and intangible.

Tangible, it rested at the corners of your eyes and around your temples, where fine lines began to appear and gray hairs started to grow. Intangible, it resided in your heart—the people you met, the events that transpired, and those memories could be recalled, yet never touched again.

Shang Zhitao had never had smooth sailing; one hurdle followed another, never quite smooth or effortless, yet she was content.

Contentment was her consistent mindset. And it was precisely this kind of contentment that prevented her from missing every tiny, even trivial bit of sweetness life had to offer.

That night, little Nian Tao went to sleep early. Shang Zhitao sat cross-legged on the bed, with Luan Nian sitting across from her. She said to him: "I want to talk to you."

"Talk about what?"

"Talk about my past ten-plus years."

Shang Zhitao wanted to talk starting from the very first year. She felt a bit embarrassed, because she was about to sound long-winded, turning into a chatterbox.

"Will you find me too wordy? Will you feel annoyed? Or are you tired right now? If you're tired, you can go to sleep first, and we can talk later."

"Shang Zhitao." Luan Nian called her name: "I can sit and talk with you until dawn."

Until the next, and the next after next, dawn.

Anything would do.

So long as we still have things to say.