Pei Wen froze where she stood. Sister Yuqing always seemed to know exactly what lingered in her heart—yet should they really keep this from Tang Yan?
Ji Yuqing returned to her office, leaving the door half‑open. In the corner of her eye she caught her team whispering in their cubicles, but she acted as though she heard and saw nothing. She did a quick tidy‑up, just to be sure her desk would not collect dust while she was away.
(Knock, knock)
At the sound, Ji Yuqing looked up. Pei Wen stood at the door.
“Come in,” she said.
Pei Wen glanced back at the curious faces outside, then closed the door.
“Here’s the suspension form HR just processed,” she said bitterly. “They cut five percent off your annual salary—far too harsh.”
Ji Yuqing took the form and slipped it into a stack of files without a glance. “A little money is nothing,” she answered calmly.
Pei Wen’s protest died in her throat. Maybe five percent meant little to Sister Yuqing, but to a monthly wage earner like her, that was several months’ work gone for free.
While Pei Wen still fumed, Ji Yuqing finished packing. She stretched lazily and smiled. “Think of it as an extended holiday. I’ve not taken a real break in ages.”
Pei Wen forced a crooked grin—she could not manage a genuine one.
“Do you truly feel that way? I suspect Li Wenping egged the boss on. He values you; a suspension seems over the top. I’m worried…”
“Worried about what?�� Ji Yuqing folded her arms, still smiling. “That someone will steal my position while I’m gone?”
Pei Wen lowered her eyes and nodded.
“Relax.” Ji Yuqing patted her shoulder, her voice firm with confidence. “Li is impulsive and short‑sighted—hardly leadership material. I’m not concerned.”
“I hope you’re right,” Pei Wen murmured. Then, brightening, she asked, “Are you leaving now? Let me buy you lunch and drive you home.”
“Lunch sounds good, but no need to drive me. You still have work this afternoon. I’m the one on leave, not you. Hold the fort while I’m away.”
“Of course. I’ll keep you updated on anything that happens.”
They chose a nearby spot on the second floor of the building—an Italian restaurant that was always packed. Seated in a quiet corner, Pei Wen ordered Ji Yuqing’s usual dishes without even checking the menu.
“You remembered,” Ji Yuqing said, pleased.
“Of course. A good assistant memorizes the basics,” Pei Wen replied, her smile almost squinting away her pupils.
“Tell me, you’ve worked with me a long time—have you ever thought about striking out on your own?” Ji Yuqing asked casually.
Panic flashed across Pei Wen’s face. “Never! I’m not ambitious like that. I’m happy learning from you.”
“I’ve been in this field long enough to know money is never enough. You’re smart. If the day comes, I’m sure you’ll do well.”
Pei Wen blushed. “I’ve never even considered it. It feels distant.”
“Not so distant. I was about your age when I became director. If I ever leave, I’ll hand my network over to you.”
“Thank you, Sister… you’re too good to me. I don’t know how to—”
Ji Yuqing cut her off. “And you’ve been good to me. In this world kindness is mutual. You’ve helped me plenty.”
“Please don’t say that—it sounds too formal. Working with you is my honor.”
“Enough, or we’ll drown in compliments. Eat.”
Pei Wen twirled a forkful of pasta and stuffed her cheeks full. Mid‑bite she remembered another question and swallowed hastily. “What will you do with all this time off?”
“Do?” Ji Yuqing lowered her lashes, stirring her soup spoon with a serene smile. “Do nothing—sleep until I wake naturally and live at my own pace.”
“That… actually sounds nice,” Pei Wen admitted.
Although Pei Wen had offered to pay, Ji Yuqing snatched the bill. Pei Wen stared helplessly at her phone. “You wouldn’t even give me the chance.”
“I know your salary. These dishes cost a fortune—I can’t let you shoulder it.” A bill of several thousand was pocket change to Ji Yuqing, but half a month’s pay to Pei Wen.
“Alright, I’ll head back. Call if you run into problems,” Ji Yuqing said, waving goodbye at the restaurant door.
Pei Wen watched her ride the escalator to the first floor. Admiration welled up again—Sister Yuqing always shielded others, never letting subordinates pay during team meals, always thinking of everyone else. Such considerate warmth was impossible not to love.
But… it would never be her turn. She knew Yuqing treated her only as a subordinate, a younger sister—not a lover. She was envious of Tang Yan, yet the child truly suited Sister Yuqing. That thought eased her lonely heart a little.
Only when Yuqing’s figure vanished did Pei Wen turn toward the office.
Ji Yuqing fastened her seat belt, released the handbrake, and eased onto the road. Less than twenty minutes later she was home. She parked, entered the passcode, slipped inside, swapped heels for slippers, and poured a glass of water at the bar before heading to the bedroom.
After finishing the water she set the glass on the nightstand, drew the curtains tight, dimming the room. She hung up her coat, unwrapped her silk scarf, loosened the tie in her hair so soft curls cascaded down her back, then sat on the bed, kicked off her slippers, and crawled beneath the quilt. All the clutter of the world fell away.
Tick‑tock. The clock was the only sound. She hadn’t slept this well in ages.
When she awoke, the room was pitch‑black. She stretched, flicked on the bedside lamp, and saw the clock pointing to seven. She had slept for hours without dreaming. After a moment she rose, drained another glass of water, and glanced around the silent flat. She missed the warmth Tang Yan brought.
Out of habit she switched on the old phonograph in the living room; gentle music filled the space and chased away the solitude. With nothing else to do she cleaned the apartment top to bottom, washed all the linens, and left the rooms spotless. Time had never felt so generous—perhaps she had always lived too fast and too full to slow down.
For dinner she assembled a light salad of red cabbage, cherry tomatoes, other vegetables, and her favorite yogurt dressing—tasty and waist‑friendly.
Just then her phone vibrated on the counter. Seeing Tang Yan’s name, she dried her hands and answered.
“Yanyan?”
In the dorm, Tang Yan sat at her desk under a study lamp, practice papers spread out, half‑finished yogurt beside her—the same brand Aunt Ji loved.
“Aunt Ji, are you off work?”
“I am,” Ji Yuqing replied. “What made you call?”
Tang Yan bit her lip. “Did your boss blame you for what happened last night?”
“No, no. Everything’s fine here. Focus on your revision and stop worrying.”
“Oh…” She bit harder, then blurted, “I’ll get a good score, I promise.”
Ji Yuqing’s soft laugh rippled down the line. “I look forward to it. When exams are over, I’ll grant you one wish.”
“Really?” Tang Yan’s voice leaped. “Any wish?”
“Anything within my power,” Ji Yuqing said after a pause.