Chapter 116: Kindred Spirits

When I left Qiu Jieqin’s house, my mind was in turmoil, tangled with a thousand emotions and countless thoughts. It was truly a knot that could neither be cut nor untied. When I arrived, I had already resolved to part ways with her. Yet, instead of breaking apart, my encounter only strengthened Qiu Jieqin’s unyielding determination to remain by my side until death.

Before I left, Qiu Jieqin spoke to me clearly: “Qian, I know you don’t have any feelings for me now, but that’s alright. I am no longer the person I was eight years ago. Back then, your lack of love caused me immense pain, anger, and shame, and I wasted eight years of my life. But now I realize that life without you, the days spent longing for you, are even more painful. I will never give up on you. I will always be by your side. I believe that true sincerity can break through even stone and metal. One day, you will accept me. For that day, I’m willing to persist for eight years more, or two eights, or ten eights, as long as I live that long.”

To be honest, her words moved me. Qiu Jieqin had not been an easy person. In the past, I only knew she loved me, nothing more. Now I understood that her love had become her entire life. Without me, she would lose all motivation, and her existence would become meaningless. But the headache was mine—I knew clearly in my heart that I could never love her back. I felt sympathy and was touched by her devotion, but it was not love. I didn’t know how to express this truth to her, and after hearing her so resolutely declare she wouldn’t leave me, it seemed pointless to say anything at all.

My already troubled mood grew heavier. I lit a cigarette and slowly walked home. My thoughts drifted to Xu Shu, whom I loved so deeply yet received no response from. The pain was like a vacuum inside me. It would be better if Xu Shu had outright rejected me than to pretend not to hear or care. As I passed by a music bar, a beautiful piano melody floated out. The piece was an adaptation of one of Xu Shu’s popular songs, which I had always liked. Hearing it unexpectedly, I stopped and listened intently. I wasn’t sure if it was the pianist’s exquisite skill or the song’s mood that resonated with my current feelings. After a while, I couldn’t resist and pushed open the door to go inside. The pianist was a young man—handsome, with long fingers, dressed simply and neatly. I found a quiet corner and sat down, ordering a beer when the waiter came.

When troubled, finding a quiet place with just oneself, a bottle of beer, a cigarette, and beautiful music is truly a good way to relax. This was nothing like the reckless drinking and drunkenness of Gu Ruoyan. I sipped the beer slowly, inhaled the cigarette deeply, and let the music fill my mind with myriad thoughts. Time passed unknowingly until a woman’s voice broke through: “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

I looked up and saw a tall, strikingly beautiful woman. I immediately recognized her and stood to greet her warmly. “Manager Fan!” The woman was Fan Yunting, the deputy head of the Planning Department at Green Lady Company.

Fan Yunting held a glass of vibrant green cocktail, garnished with an orange slice and a straw. Her beautiful face bore a pleased expression, clearly happy to see me here. Smiling at my greeting, she said, “What a coincidence! Alone?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Oh, Manager Fan, please have a seat.” She didn’t hesitate and sat down opposite me, casually setting down her drink. “Just call me Fan Yunting,” she said. “You’re no longer with the company, so no need for formal titles.” I sat back down and said, “That’s fine, I’m used to it. Are you alone?”

“No, I’m here with some friends,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “They’re over there. I happened to see you and came to say hello.” I nodded, not paying much attention, thinking this was a polite but brief greeting between acquaintances. To my surprise, she showed no intention of leaving. She stirred her drink slowly, smiling at me.

Feeling a bit uneasy under her gaze, I was about to ask what she wanted when she spoke first: “Tang Qian, what have you been doing since you resigned from the company?”

My face flushed. Though there was nothing shameful about my current work, it could not compare to before. Remembering my grand speeches at resignation and my present decline, I was at a loss for words. Fan Yunting, sharp and perceptive, could tell from my discomfort what was going on. She dropped the subject and shifted gears. “This music bar has a great atmosphere; I like it a lot and come here often. But I don’t recall seeing you here before. I didn’t expect you to have an interest in places like this. Where did you hang out in the past?”

I gave a bitter laugh. “Hang out? Manager Fan, don’t joke. I just happened to pass by and was drawn in by the pianist’s piece. I rarely come to bars like this.”

By now, the pianist had left, replaced by a guitarist performing a solo of “Für Elise,” which was also quite good. Fan Yunting spoke knowledgeably about the musicians here. “Oh, that pianist is Xiao Jiang, from the northeast. I heard his family isn’t wealthy, so he studies here while working part-time. He’s very talented. He can transform original songs into beautiful piano pieces—that’s his specialty and why the bar owner hired him.” She seemed intimately familiar with the place, far beyond a regular customer. I took a sip and said, “You really know this place well.”

She smiled faintly. “Yes, because the owner is a good friend of mine.” I wasn’t particularly interested in this, but it was clear she had a reason for striking up this conversation. I wondered what she wanted from me—Fan Yunting and I barely knew each other. After a few more casual remarks, she finally got to the point.

“What a coincidence today. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a few days but couldn’t find the time. Since we met, I’ll treat your tab tonight. But I hope you can answer a few questions, alright?”

I was curious what questions she could possibly have. I didn’t know her well enough to guess her intentions, so I replied calmly, “Feel free to ask. I’ll answer as best I can. But I can afford this beer, so no need for you to pay.”

Fan Yunting chuckled. “I’ve heard people at the company talking about you. Seems their words were true.” I lit another cigarette and took a drag. I didn’t care much what was said behind my back; I was just annoyed. Here sat a senior executive of the company, head of the Planning Department, a legendary woman in the industry—what could she want to ask me?

Now close enough under the bar’s lighting, I studied Fan Yunting carefully for the first time. She was the epitome of a white-collar beauty: light makeup perfectly applied, clothes fitting impeccably, always wearing a professional, knowing smile. Judging by her appearance, she was about twenty-five—neither young nor old. For a woman that age to have risen to such a high position through her own abilities, commanding respect and achievements, was truly rare. I had no doubt about her talent. If it weren’t for Hua Jingjing’s father being the group chairman, Fan Yunting would be the undisputed head of the Planning Department.

I looked at her frankly, and she seemed comfortable with it. She took a sip of her drink and finally said, “A few days ago, I was working on a planning proposal and got permission from General Manager Qi to review some research documents in the company’s R&D department. I came across the files on the beverage product you handled four years ago. Although I don’t understand product development, I recognize value when I see it. I immediately thought that if you had continued your research, the drink you developed could have caused a sensation in the market—a flagship product for Green Lady Company, perhaps even setting a new trend in beverage flavors. How could the company just stop such a valuable project because you left? It’s such a shame. Four years have passed—how much money has the company lost?”

Hearing this, I couldn’t help but recall the enthusiasm and vitality I had when I first joined the company, the countless days and nights I worked tirelessly on that project. I truly missed those times. A pang of nostalgia swept through me, realizing how different I was then compared to now.

I took a drag of my cigarette, exhaled slowly, and said, “The Leaf Tip Fragrant Tea drink was very difficult to develop. First, the raw materials are rare, only grown deep in the Yunwu Mountains of Province F, and only locals know how to find them. Large-scale production isn’t easy. Second, this tea, once processed and dried, brews into a fragrant, lasting aroma—truly a gem among teas. But maintaining that original fresh scent in a beverage form was a major technical challenge. I spent a lot of time on this without solving it before I was transferred. The company probably saw no future for this drink and shelved the project.”

Fan Yunting was silent for a moment, then asked, “If you had sufficient funds and equipment, would you have confidence in successfully developing this tea beverage?”

I smiled faintly. “Confidence, of course. But that’s just talk, isn’t it? I don’t have those resources.”

Her expression grew resolute. “You will have them. I’m very optimistic about this project. Its value is immeasurable. And I’m optimistic about you. I’ve studied your research notes in detail. Calling you a genius might be too much praise, but your approach is refreshing. I’ve seen many tea beverages—most are just the same formula with different ingredients, lacking creativity. Yours is different. Though I don’t understand the technicalities, my intuition tells me this could be a bold breakthrough, a great innovation. Tang Qian, I won’t miss this opportunity. Let’s work together—I believe we can shake up the beverage industry.”

Her words stirred something deep inside me, the faint feeling of meeting a kindred spirit. I sighed again. “It’s no use. You know I’ve already resigned and can’t go back.”

Fan Yunting smiled. “No, you’re wrong. I didn’t mention the company. I said ‘we’—you and me.”