The Vanishing Beauty - Chapter 5 - 5

Chapter 5 - 5

The personnel appointments came down. The boss had to leave, bound for Qinghai.

Lirin felt a growing sense of anxiety. He realized he had backed himself into an awkward corner. If he followed the boss, things here had only just begun; even if it were a temporary transfer, it was hard to tell when he could ever return. If he stayed behind, with a new official stepping into power, his chances of being marginalized were exceptionally high. Lirin lacked connections and powerful backers, standing entirely alone. Trying to cultivate a brand-new patron now would be even harder. Leaders preferred a blank slate to cultivate their own people—who would willingly take on the legacy left by the previous regime's old retainers? Besides, he wasn't even an old retainer. Having witnessed both the glamour and the cutthroat perils of the big city, Di Lirin finally understood why those old-timers had been so reluctant to accept transfers to the metropolis, choosing instead to leave the opportunity to him. It wasn't so much a lack of self-confidence as it was a clear-eyed recognition of how deep the waters ran here. Serving as a mid-level manager in one's home "base," where the web of connections was firmly established and the entire family could be looked after, meant living out a quiet, stable, and thoroughly comfortable life. Why put on heavy armor and brandish weapons to charge blindly into the fray? Yet they failed to understand that Lirin possessed true ambitions. He genuinely wanted to serve the public, but his ultimate goal was to achieve genuine accomplishments—not necessarily to carve his name into the history books, but at the very least to build a career and establish a legacy. Yet none of this could be realized without power. Only by wielding authority could he properly execute his grand designs. But the sheer difficulty of achieving that was not something easily captured in a few words. Ultimately, his foundations were far too shallow.

Now that he had arrived in the big city, he began to regret getting married so early, lacking any long-term strategic planning. He had traded himself away for a dash of romance and a bit of domestic warmth in his early twenties, fresh out of university. Looking back, it was a colossal mistake. Marriage was no different from a war; choosing the right comrade-in-arms was utterly crucial. This was especially true for someone like him who was determined to climb the official ladder. Could anyone hope to succeed without borrowing leverage and striking with borrowed force? Forget the political arena—even in commerce, one only had to look at the powerful fathers-in-law of successful businessmen to see that even a fool could understand the profound wisdom behind it. Lirin had simply been too young when he married, blinded by the supremacy of emotion. With family members who had no inkling of how to steer the ship, he had ultimately drifted completely off course.

What was worse, he and Yu Jia now had virtually nothing to say to each other. Did she care about him and look after him? Immensely so, to a fault—nine and a half people out of ten would say as much. That was the persona Yu Jia had spent years carefully cultivating: the virtuous, devoted wife.

Yet Lirin felt that wasn't care or affection at all; it was outright bootlicking. She only fawned over him because his career was on the rise. Her entire family was cut from the same cloth. He had single-handedly dragged her good-for-nothing younger brother all the way to a doctorate, surrounded by a mountain of troublesome in-laws and miscellaneous relatives. He hadn't even flown high yet, and they acted as though they were already itching to drag him back down to earth. He couldn't stand the sight of their petty, groveling behavior. He spent his days sucking up to superiors outside, only to come home and have these people suck up to him; it constantly felt as though he were watching his own shadow act out a play, mocking him with the reminder: Just look at how utterly ridiculous you are.

Lirin adored people who were delightfully uninhibited and lived entirely on their own terms, precisely because he could never be that way, nor could he ever hope to achieve it.

Lirin also felt that Yu Jia fundamentally misunderstood him. She had even floated the idea of moving back home together. Wasn't that equivalent to declaring that the first half of his life's struggles had been entirely in vain? Wasn't that sentencing him as a deserter, defeated on the battlefield of life, burying his ideals in the dust? People strive to move upward; coming to the big city to serve more people and exert a broader impact—this was his ideal! His ideal! His ideal! Did she even understand what an ideal was? It was something a person could willingly sacrifice their very life for! She had no business bringing that up; she shouldn't have even thought it! It was ignorant, foolish, and thoroughly blockheaded!

Perhaps, even now, Lirin had never truly grasped the boundary between his ideals and his raw ambitions. Either way, he and Yu Jia simply could not hold a conversation. Things were marginally better during their periods of long-distance separation, when she existed merely as a nominal wife. But once they were face-to-face under the same roof, he found it unbearable and profoundly awkward. Take this recent shake-up with the boss, for instance; discussing it with Yu Jia was entirely out of the question. She would undoubtedly make a mountain out of a molehill and instantly prioritize her own concerns. Then there was that recent incident where she walked in on "that scene." Yu Jia's display of magnanimous tolerance had annoyed him just as much. He would have preferred it if she had thrown a massive tantrum. She had no inkling of how dreadfully insipid she had become. When was the last time they had made love? He couldn't even remember. He only knew that she always lay completely flat like a wooden log—stiff as a board, entirely silent from start to finish, and excruciatingly boring! He felt as though he were locked in combat with a slab of dead pork. He probably spoke more words to his friends on any given day than he did to her. The thought of divorce had crossed his mind more than once—he had first considered it years ago. Yet whenever the notion reared its head, he invariably warned himself that the time wasn't right yet.

Luan Chengyun chose precisely the right moment to seek him out. In the past, Lirin might have brushed him off. People never visit temples without a purpose, and Luan undoubtedly wanted him to pull some strings. Yet right now, Lirin was suffocating with frustration, and having a buddy like Luan around to break the monotony was a welcome relief. Operating in entirely different spheres, they shared no direct competition. In front of Luan, Lirin could afford to let his guard down just a little.

At Qu Shui Lan Ting, in an elegant private parlor, Luan Chengyun stood beside a marble desk, holding an oversized wolf-hair calligraphy brush and practicing his characters. Lirin watched quietly from the side.

Just as Luan finished writing the blade atop the character for "endurance" (忍), his phone rang. Chengyun answered. It was a woman's voice. They chatted for a couple of minutes before he hung up.

It had been Weng Yue, calling to touch base about some business matters. Chengyun offered a brief explanation. Lirin chuckled and remarked, "Well, there you go—completely unfettered and flying high."

"Just a business partner." Having finished the character for endurance, Luan Chengyun laid down the brush and stepped back to admire his work. "You're the one who wishes you could fly high."

"Don't send me an invitation if you ever remarry; I won't even give you a cash gift if you do," Lirin joked.

"Never crossed my mind." Luan Chengyun swapped out the sheet of rice paper, stepped aside, and handed the brush to Lirin. "I'm not looking for that kind of trouble."

Lirin stepped up to the desk, planted his feet apart in a horse stance, and without the slightest hesitation, put brush to paper to write the character for "smooth/unimpeded" (畅).

Chengyun casually offered an annotation, "'A gentle breeze and smooth weather, green mountains never obstruct drifting white clouds.' Marvelous! Where there is great blockage, there must eventually be a grand breakthrough; without extraordinary twists of fate, one never encounters extraordinary destinies."

Lirin sighed. "It's still better to be alone. So free, able to do whatever you want."

Luan Chengyun stepped half a step closer to his side and lowered his voice. "Don't get a divorce." Lirin exhibited this exact moodiness every time they met, and Chengyun had long since guessed at his marital weariness. As for the rest, it hardly needed spelling out.

Lirin started in surprise. He was amazed at how easily Chengyun had pierced through his thoughts. Fortunately, he was always steady under pressure, letting nothing show on his face as he immediately chuckled, "Listen to how ridiculous that is—a divorced man telling someone else not to get a divorce."

"It's just too much trouble."

"From where I'm standing, you seem to be enjoying it quite a bit," Lirin teased mildly.

Luan Chengyun replied, "For a man, the moment you're divorced—provided you still have a bit of money and aren't too old—there are bound to be people plotting after you."

"That just means your willpower is weak."

"I'm human too; I have needs."

"Oh, I see. Did you go and knock someone up?" Lirin handed the brush back to Chengyun. "You'd better watch yourself. When an entrepreneur starts playing around with women, it's the beginning of his corruption and downfall."

"Come on, I don't have those kinds of vices," Chengyun protested. "If you do, just tell your buddy here. I'll take you out—Twin Swallows, you can have your fun while I just sit back and rest."

"You belong behind bars."

"Totally framed."

"Moral decay and corruption—they coined those terms specifically for guys like you."

"Me? I'm keeping myself pure as jade, holding out for a reconciliation with my ex," Luan Chengyun said with a cheeky grin. That statement caught Lirin slightly off guard. He knew Chengyun always spoke in half-truths, wrapping reality in illusion; anyone unfamiliar with him easily got tangled up in his riddles. Yet Di Lirin could always distinguish between what was real and what was fake. Holding out for a reconciliation—that part had to be true. However, Lirin happened to know Zu Liangcai—though they weren't intimately close, Liangcai outranked him. Through a roundabout grapevine, rumors had it that Liangcai had recently taken on a girlfriend, someone who even accompanied him to mahjong games. That woman was none other than Yu Meng. Of course, Lirin had no intention of mentioning this to Luan Chengyun. He simply found Chengyun's infatuation rather pathetic, lamentable, and somewhat laughable. Chengyun picked up the brush, penned the character for "harmony" (和), and muttered to himself, "A refined room brings harmony; harmony and tranquility come naturally." Growing tired of writing, the two men went off to drink tea. Though Chengyun had made a bit of quick cash doing business, his villa was mortgaged, and the funds were perpetually caught up and unable to return, leaving his wealth entirely on paper. Until it was safely in his pocket, it couldn't truly be counted as his. He was desperately eager to clear his channels and pave his way through relationships. Coming to see Lirin was precisely to probe whether any other avenues remained open. Previously, he had always tried to blast his way through with brute cash, hacking through brambles with twice the effort for half the result. Lirin didn't elaborate, merely mentioning that his boss was leaving. Chengyun dropped the subject immediately. If the skin is gone, what hair can attach to it? Asking further was pointless; he knew Lirin was flying solo and unsupported as well. Lirin remarked, "You could try reaching out to the Xin family." Chengyun fell silent. He felt that was a risky move; that connection had been cultivated over quite a while and couldn't be spent lightly. Moreover, the current political climate was delicate, and the Xin family wouldn't easily stick their necks out. To put it bluntly, what kind of bond did he share with them? Too thin, lacking even a shred of mutual interest. Settling in with their tea, the two men fell silent, each lost in his own thoughts and burdened by his own worries. Being able to sit opposite each other and share a quiet pot of tea like this was already a rare luxury.

After polishing off a pot, Chengyun felt a sense of obligation to dredge up some small talk and casually asked, "How is Sister Jia doing these days?"

Lirin swept past the question with a swift dismissal. "Same as always." Judging by his tone, Luan Chengyun realized there was no need to probe any further.

"What's the point of it all?" Luan Chengyun suddenly blurted out.

"What are you getting at?"

"Reaching this age, none of it means a thing," Chengyun lamented. "Everything feels fake."

Lirin let out a long sigh. "Your good days are only just beginning, kid. Spare me the cynical whining."

"Is that so?" Luan asked. His phone rang again; it was Weng Yue once more. Catching snippets of the audio, Lirin tactfully stepped away.

After prolonged consideration, Di Lirin ultimately sought out the "boss" to tactfully signal his stance: he was willing to follow him to Qinghai. The boss neither gave a direct yes nor a flat no, merely observing that serving the people could be done anywhere. It was hardly the time for a definitive answer. Lirin knew that even if he did move, it wouldn't be as a direct entourage accompanying the boss; he would likely have to rely on a temporary transfer arrangement. Still, leaving offered a pathway forward, whereas staying put here meant certain doom. He had no choice now but to emulate the revolutionaries climbing Jinggang Mountain and carve out a brand-new revolutionary base. Sisi's overseas studies were essentially finalized, with Yu Yi running back and forth to handle all the tutoring and guidance—ironically, a guy who had never even set foot abroad was serving as the guide for someone else heading abroad.

Lirin had recently set Yu Yi up on a blind date with the daughter of a certain influential senior sister-in-office—an out-of-towner holding local household registration, a university graduate working in a hospital's laboratory department. Getting into that particular hospital was no small feat open to just anyone.

The young lady... or rather, the aging bachelorette... was quite fond of Yu Yi. Yu Jia, naturally, thought it was a wonderful match, but Yu Yi had his reservations. Though he didn't dare show it too openly out of respect for his brother-in-law's standing, his ideal scenario would have been for the girl to reject him so everyone could offload the awkwardness easily. Yu Jia tried to talk some sense into her younger brother, urging him that finding a local partner with family backing who could pull strings would make life vastly easier, sparing him twenty years of hard labor.

Looking at his sister's preaching expression, Yu Yi felt a mix of conflicting emotions. On one hand, he recognized that she genuinely cared for him as his biological sister; on the other hand, she was utterly clueless about how a real man thought. He had studied all the way to a doctoral degree just to end up marrying into a family as an dependent? Why couldn't he pursue someone he actually loved? The chase was where a man found his joy. He loathed that girl's oversized mouth—whenever she laughed, her entire gumline was exposed, and he half-feared she might try to swallow him alive! He still yearned for Yu Rui, even if she were poor enough to live in a shack and wild enough for him to never tame; she would forever remain the most breathtaking moonlight glowing in his heart. If he couldn't have her, indulging in fantasies was at least harmless. By comparison, the lab technician girl was utterly pedestrian and banal. Yu Rui was out there fighting tooth and nail for her life, whereas this girl had merely won the genetic lottery, relying entirely on her parents. There was nothing epic or moving about her. By contrast, Yu Rui carried an almost epic sense of tragedy and desolate beauty.