The office clock chimed, its melody—faintly resembling Für Elise—signaling the end of the work year. Cheers erupted; relief washed over Donghua's staff.
The New Year's Eve dinner was held at Hong Kong Hotel, booked a month prior. Donghua's headquarters was lean—fifty staff, plus board members, fitting comfortably at six tables.
They filed into the second-floor banquet hall, seating themselves by department. Luo Minghao, the board, and executives occupied the central table. Fang Tianzhuo and Rui Jie's group—chairman's office and admin—sat to their right, with other departments arrayed beyond.
Before dining, Luo delivered a rousing speech, announcing vacation until the eighth day of the first lunar month. Cheers followed, and the feast began.
Rui Jie picked at her food, sipping soda. Fang Tianzhuo piled her bowl with dishes, flustering her. Luckily, the table buzzed with toasts—no one noticed. Most were women, chattering about holiday plans, ignoring their quiet exchange.
Bored, Fang helped himself, savoring the best bites—no competition from the distracted women.
When he'd eaten his fill, Rui Jie nudged him, nodding at their colleagues. Time to toast, she mouthed. He wasn't the lowly marketing grunt anymore; he and Rui Jie were the table's de facto leaders. He poured red wine, and they toasted their coworkers. The usually demure women turned fierce, demanding reciprocal toasts. Rui Jie stuck to soda; Fang managed with wine.
As they sat, Luo's table rose to toast each group—starting with theirs.
Yu Chongwen frowned at Fang's wine. "Only two men here? Step up. No wine or soda—real drinks."
He ordered the waiter to refill Fang's and the other man's glasses with baijiu, the women's with red wine.
Luo and the board, in high spirits, downed their drinks. Everyone followed. Fang's glass brimmed with baijiu. He met Luo's gaze, then gulped it down like water.
"Good man. Another round!" Luo laughed, refilling his own glass and clinking it with Fang's. "Impressive work these months. I chose well. Stick with me—you'll go far." He drained his cup; Fang matched him.
Toasting the rest of the board and executives followed—smaller sips, but enough to burn.
Rui Jie, noticing his struggle, had the waiter bring green tea. The warmth in his hands mirrored the warmth in his chest.
Nausea hit. He dashed to the bathroom, retching into the toilet—vibrant chunks mingling with acrid alcohol. A splash of water revived him, though his stomach felt hollow.
Back at the hall, his old marketing colleagues hunted him down, raising their glasses in a row.
Alcohol numbed his senses; drinks went down like water. He outlasted them—they scattered, drunk.
Another trip to the bathroom, another purge—cleaner this time, less painful.
Exiting, he found Yu supporting a stumbling Luo. "Need a hand?" Fang offered.
They helped Luo vomit, but he remained incoherent—age catching up.
At Luo's villa—part of his first real estate project, a leafy, older complex—they helped him inside. A frumpy maid opened the door. "Master's drunk! Miss Chen, help! I'll make sobering soup!" she called up the stairs.
A tall woman in a bathrobe descended. Fang froze: Chen Yuqi.
She barely glanced at him, as if they were strangers. But he'd recognize her anywhere—her features, her aura, the memory of their nights together.
Leaving the villa, Fang brooded. The driver dropped him and Rui Jie at the hotel; she seemed equally distracted.
Most staff had left. They walked to the parking garage, their cars parked side by side. He opened his door, but she stopped him. "Follow me."
Her Volkswagen Bora led them to Yangtze River Bridge, then onto the riverbank. They parked, silent, staring at the water.
Winter had shrunk the river, lowering its level. Bridge lights gilded the waves; the breeze cooled Fang's hot cheeks, clearing his head.
"Did you see her?" Rui Jie asked softly.
"Chen Yuqi. She's beautiful."
"Her name? Where's she from?"
"Chen Yuqi. Sichuan or Chongqing, I think." Rui Jie's voice dimmed.
Fang's worst fears confirmed. "Why hold onto this? Why fear her after all these years?"
"I hate her… but I wronged her. I don't know how to fix it." Tears streamed.
He held her, conflicted.
After minutes, she pulled away, walking to her car. "Thanks for listening. I'm tired. Go home."
"Rui Jie—why cling to the past? Why erase last night? Let's start over!" He shouted, his voice echoing over the water.
"Fang Tianzhuo—if you ever want to see me again, never mention last night. Never!" She yelled, driving off.
He stood, wind biting through his clothes. Months of chaos swirled—Yanran's departure, Rui Jie's rejection, Chen Yuqi's mystery. Two women he'd loved, both tied to his boss, both nursing old hatreds.
"Fuck!" he roared. "Boss—your woman's mine!"