In just a short while, the boarding stairs were already covered in snow. The flight attendant reminded everyone to be careful of slippery steps, but Shang Shao strode steadily.
Ying Yin turned her face toward his chest, without the slightest intention of looking up at him. Snowflakes landed on her face, then melted into glistening drops on her eyelashes.
Once they were in the back seat of the car, the warmth was abundant. Shang Shao still pulled Ying Yin to sit in his arms. Through her down jacket, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
Ying Yin shivered repeatedly. On her face, only her brows and eyes still held color -everything else was tinged with a morbid pallor. Shang Shao brushed aside her messy hair. “Cold?”
Both the car’s heating and the seat’s own heating were on – the car was actually so warm it was almost burning.
Her teeth chattering, Ying Yin nodded and burrowed deeper into his arms. Her bare toes were crossed and tensed, pressing hard enough to leave fine marks in the leather of the seat.
The next moment, her cold toes suddenly landed in warmth.
Shang Shao’s left hand held both of her feet, pressing them against his palm, and then wrapped her legs even more securely.
The driver in the front seat said something, and Shang Shao replied to him.
Ying Yin didn’t understand; she assumed it was German.
The private business jet terminal wasn’t far away. The summit organizer’s reception staff and accompanying interpreter had been waiting for quite some time. When they saw Shang Shao walking into the terminal carrying a woman in his arms, they all exchanged uncertain glances.
The interpreter spoke Mandarin, Cantonese, and German, but at that moment looked somewhat bewildered. He asked in Cantonese, “Shang sir?”
Shang Shao settled Ying Yin onto a sofa, then used both hands to gather the front of her down jacket and zip it up for her. Only after that did he turn and ask, “Have the people I arranged arrived?”
It turned out that in addition to the organizer’s staff, he had also arranged his own people to meet the plane – which seemed somewhat unnecessary. His people, delayed by the snow, came rushing in five minutes later, carrying a bundle of clothes, all covered with dust bags.
“Sorry, Chairman Shao. The snow was really heavy, and it was such short notice…”
They were employees of the Shangyu Group’s German office.
Shang Shao gave a nod, didn’t scold them for their poor performance, and simply took the dust bags and paper bags, which contained women’s clothing and a pair of tall leather boots. He bent down, rubbed her icy fingertips, and said, “We have to return this outfit to Cici. I’ve got these for you – want to go inside and change?”
The terminal was warm, and Ying Yin had already regained her composure. She nodded, and Shang Shao took her hand to help her up. “I’ll go with you.”
The coatroom was unisex, located not far away – a high-end suite connected to a powder room and a spacious changing area, warmed by fragrant scents.
Shang Shao waited outside, leaning halfway against the vanity, his hands braced on the edge of the counter, his face lowered so that no one could see his expression clearly
Ying Yin entered the changing room, closed the door, and very habitually turned the lock to secure it.
The lock clicked – a crisp sound in the quiet room, one that resonated deep inside.
Shang Shao froze for a moment, his hands pressing harder against the edge of the vanity, his knuckles faintly turning white. That little lock seemed to have embedded itself right into his heart, causing a sudden, indescribable ache in the soft flesh within.
But only a moment later, the lock turned back again. The door was no longer bolted.
Ying Yin stood with the clothes gathered in her arms, her back pressed against the cherry wood door. “Mr. Shang.”
Her voice came through the crack in the door – thin, weak, and hoarse.
“What is it?” Shang Shao straightened abruptly, took a step forward, then stopped. He asked, “Is there something you need my help with?”
“I wasn’t trying to guard against you,” Ying Yin said, hugging the clothes tighter. “It was just a habit…”
Shang Shao’s lips curved slightly, and he leaned back somewhat carelessly against the vanity counter.
“As you should.”
Ying Yin opened the dust bags and paper bags and took out the clothes one by one.
Thermal leggings, a cashmere sweater, a green cashmere coat, knee-high leather boots, a pair of black lambskin gloves, a wool lady’s hat, and a scarf.
She took off her slip dress and changed into the warm clothes. Just before leaving, she hesitated for a moment, then balled up the slip dress and tossed it into the trash bin.
When she came out, Shang Shao looked her over carefully, his gaze finally returning to her face. “Do they fit?”
Ying Yin nodded, not knowing what to say. Fortunately, Shang Shao didn’t put her on the spot and simply said, “Let’s go.”
He walked ahead, with Ying Yin following two steps behind. After a while, she asked, “Mr. Shang, aren’t you cold?”
Shang Shao’s pace faltered slightly. “No.”
The topic ended there. They walked the rest of the way in silence. When they met up with the reception staff and interpreter again, they went through the special channel for customs, then headed to the parking lot to transfer to a business van. Along the way, only Shang Shao spoke, conversing with the event organizers.
At the parking lot, the summit’s reception car was in front, and Shangyu Group’s reception car was behind. Shang Shao had Ying Yin ride in the company’s business van, while he got into the front Mercedes-Maybach with the organizers.
He didn’t introduce Ying Yin’s identity to anyone. The event organizers acted as if they hadn’t seen him carrying her in his arms, and Shangyu Group’s employees didn’t ask any questions either.
After seeing her into the car, Shang Shao pressed the power door button with one finger and said to her, “Go back to the hotel and rest first. Just follow their arrangements tonight.”
This meant he would be attending the host’s welcome dinner that evening and couldn’t bring her along.
Ying Yin nodded. The power door closed slowly, and Shang Shao remained standing by the door the whole time, but Ying Yin had already lowered her face and was looking at her phone.
She didn’t lift her head again until the door was fully closed and locked.
The organizers were waiting. They didn’t know why, after the door had closed, the man they were waiting for still stood by the car for many extra seconds.
There were two reception staff from Shangyu Group. One was the man who had come running with the clothes earlier. The other was a young woman, who sat in the back with Ying Yin.
“Miss Ying, I’ll be accompanying you for the rest of your itinerary. My name is Anna. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Ying Yin nodded. “I’ll be troubling you.”
“No trouble at all.” Anna smiled and briefed her on the schedule: “Your hotel room has already been prepared in advance. You can take a bath and have a short nap. I’ll come to pick you up for dinner in two hours. After that, it’ll be time for shopping. We’ve already requested the stores to clear the premises. I’ve placed a list of shops on your nightstand. If I’ve left out any brands you like, please be sure to let me know.”
She rattled off a series of polite and thoughtful remarks. Ying Yin simply replied, “Okay, thank you.”
Sensing that she wasn’t in high spirits, Anna wondered – could it be that she felt neglected because Chairman Shao wasn’t making time to keep her company? Wanting to be helpful, she kindly explained, “Tonight is the official dinner of the summit. This conference is very high-level. Chairman Shao’s initial response was that he didn’t have time, but he changed his mind and came on short notice. All things considered, it wouldn’t be right for him to miss it.”
Ying Yin gave another “mm.” She had already looked up the news on her phone and understood the importance of the event. Besides, she wasn’t upset that Shang Shao wasn’t accompanying her.
She was there to accompany him, not the other way around. She could clearly tell which role was primary and which was secondary.
Anna let out a small sigh of relief and raised an eyebrow at the male colleague driving, via the rearview mirror.
Ah, actresses really are hard to please. But since Chairman Shao had given his orders, she had to make sure Ying Yin felt at home.
Ying Yin didn’t respond, so Anna continued talking to fill the silence, shifting to a lighter tone. “The good news is that Chairman Shao is only attending the agenda for the first and third days. After you fly to France tomorrow night, you’ll have a whole day to shop.”
“We’re flying to France tomorrow?” Ying Yin finally asked something more.
“Didn’t you know?”
“What are we going to France for?”
“Well…” Anna smiled. “I’m not quite sure about that either. It’s Chairman Shao’s personal itinerary.”
Ying Yin did the math. That meant he would be going nonstop for five days straight. After all, at such an important conference, he surely wasn’t going there to sleep.
Listening to reports, giving interviews, attending banquets and social events – navigating social niceties was the most draining of all.
They were staying at the same hotel, but in separate rooms, not together. Shang Shao’s schedule was tight; he changed his clothes in a hurry and rushed off again.
Ying Yin took a comfortable hot bath and nearly fell asleep in the tub. Afterward, her nose felt stuffy, but she didn’t think much of it. Before taking a nap, she opened her phone. Junyi and Tiwen both texted to ask if she was having fun.
Fun. She’d had fun for the first forty minutes. Ying Yin thought to herself, sardonically.
She wondered if Shang Shao regretted his choice. He should have picked someone sweet, charming, and utterly compliant – someone who liked whatever she was given, asked for whatever she wanted, happily got into his bed under the terms of their contract, had the natural talent to please him in that way, and provided an abundance of emotional value.
She was like a bird trapped in a cage – no real ability, yet stubborn to the bone. But her stubbornness was hollow at its core; she was actually very brittle, breaking into pieces at the slightest pressure. It was rare for someone to want to keep her gently, yet all they got was a handful of sharp, fragile bone fragments.
Frowning in displeasure, he might think: this bird doesn’t know what’s good for it.
Ying Yin changed her WeChat name to “Yinyin Super Overtime Mode.” She tossed her phone aside, put on her eye mask, and slept straight through until dark.
Her dreams were filled with the calls of chickadees.
She woke up with a pounding headache and feverish heat, her leg bones aching terribly – but the young reception lady was already waiting for her in the living room outside the suite.
Ying Yin wasn’t really in the mood. Thinking about how she’d have to remove her makeup after putting it on, she decided to go bare-faced. At the restaurant, the German food didn’t suit her taste, so she ate listlessly – but she did down several glasses of iced beer.
“Can we skip the shopping?” she asked, holding her glass, her eyes feverish. The dim, warm light of the restaurant scattered into patches of glow.
“I’m afraid not,” Anna said. “Everything we’ve prepared for you so far is everyday wear. But Chairman Shao explicitly instructed me to take you to pick out several formal dresses – for afternoon tea, for dinner banquets, and a morning robe. All are indispensable.”
“But I want to sleep.” Ying Yin laid her head down on the table, clutching the thick beer mug. “If you don’t take me shopping, will he scold you?”
“That’s not really the issue… Please hold on a moment.”
Anna turned away, walked a short distance, and made a phone call.
The assistant brought the phone over and whispered a few words into Shang Shao’s ear.
The dinner was a high-formality affair, all politeness and decorum. After a brief hesitation, Shang Shao rose, buttoned his suit jacket, and said, “Excuse me.”
“Hello.”
Anna felt a wave of relief at the sound of his low voice. But before she could even speak, Shang Shao asked first, “What’s wrong with her?”
“Miss Ying says she wants to sleep, not go shopping.”
“Then take her back to the hotel.”
“What about the clothes…”
“Have the salespeople bring them to the hotel tomorrow morning for her to try on. Tonight, just give her the lookbook. If she’s in the mood to pick, fine. If not, just have everything brought over tomorrow.”
Since he had said so, Anna breathed a sigh of relief. Just before hanging up, Shang Shao added, “Let her do whatever she wants. No need to check with me. Just make sure she’s happy.”
That, then, was the guiding principle for the rest of her time. Anna took note. “Understood. Got it.”
Before re-entering the banquet hall, Shang Shao paused in his steps. Finally, he opened WeChat.
But Ying Yin hadn’t sent him anything.
He handed the phone back to his assistant, then suddenly felt something was off. He took it back and looked again – and noticed Ying Yin’s newly changed name.
The assistant waited silently, not daring to rush him even a little. He worked at the German office and rarely got to see Shang Shao. Meeting him in person this time, he felt nothing but a suffocating sense of pressure. But Shang Shao’s reticence and the faint dark circles under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion, making him seem not quite so omnipotent after all.
There are times when even he is not up to the task, the assistant thought.
Shang Shao returned to the banquet. At the center of the round table, flowers bloomed in lavish clusters. A crystal chandelier several meters wide hung overhead, casting down a magnificent glow – a scene of blazing, opulent elegance.
But before he raised his wine glass again and joined the others in a toast, a few seconds of silence would always pass in his mind – as he thought of the words “overtime.”
So that’s how she sees it, he thought.
Ying Yin returned to the hotel, kicked off her shoes, and turned over onto the bed. The wine had warmed her, making it easy to sleep.
She lay face down on the pillow, without her eye mask, without even turning off the lights. She slept in the bright glare.
At some unknown hour, she woke up burning all over. Her limbs were trapped in the blankets as if in a mire – weak and aching, without the strength to move.
The light stung her feverish eyes, making them tear up. She fumbled for her phone. It was a little past midnight.
Clearly, she had a fever. But maybe if she slept a bit more, it would pass.
She didn’t call out to Shang Shao for help. She got up, turned off the lights, and collapsed back into the blankets.
The next time she woke up from the pain, it felt so long that she thought an entire night had passed – but it had only been half an hour.
She couldn’t take it anymore. Every bone and tendon felt as if it had been hammered. She could barely breathe; the back of her head felt like it had been run over by a truck.
Dizzy and bleary-eyed, she could only think to contact Junyi. She typed three words with two errors, deleted and retyped – then her wits briefly returned, and she finally thought to use voice messaging.
“Junyi, I feel terrible.”
After sending the voice message, Ying Yin dropped her phone and sank into a hazy, feverish sleep.
Junyi called her, but no one answered. She went straight to Shang Shao and asked with astonishing boldness. “Mr. Shang, did you bully Yinyin?”
Ten minutes later, Shang Shao appeared at her bedside. He didn’t have her room key – he had called the front desk to open the door.
There was no moon in Germany that night.
The room was dark, filled with a feverish, wine-tinged malaise. Shang Shao gathered her into his arms, pressed a hand to her forehead, and made an immediate decision. “You have a fever. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No,” Ying Yin said weakly. Her silk camisole nightgown was tangled messily between her legs.
“Be good. It’ll be over soon.” Shang Shao moved to scoop her up in his arms.
But Ying Yin refused to leave the bed. Tears streamed down her face for no apparent reason. “I won’t be good. I don’t want to.”
She wouldn’t get up no matter what, struggling limply in his arms, her body heavy and uncooperative.
Shang Shao exhaled slowly. He reached past her, pressed the speakerphone button on the landline, and dialed the dedicated concierge hotline. “I need a doctor. Fever. Yes, it’s serious.”
“You speak German,” Ying Yin said, clutching his suit jacket.
“Only at a daily conversational level,” Shang Shao replied. He laid her back down on the bed and tucked the covers tightly around her.
“You’re still wearing your outside clothes.” She stretched her arm out from under the blanket and touched his sleeve.
His sleeve was ice-cold, damp with the night dew. His voice was so hoarse it was barely recognizable as his own.
“I just got back,” Shang Shao said concisely, tucking her arm back under the covers. “Stop fidgeting.”
Ying Yin sniffled. “Mr. Shang, have you been drinking?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t smell it.”
Shang Shao listened to her rambling, and for a moment worried that her fever had already cooked her brain. Remembering the phone call from the last time she was drunk, he asked, “Have you had too much?”
“Five big glasses.” Ying Yin stuck her hand out from under the covers again and spread her five fingers to show him.
“Proud of yourself?” Shang Shao asked in a low voice, with a hint of indulgence he didn’t even notice himself.
Ying Yin pressed her lips together and tasted the salt of her tears. Only then did she realize she had been crying all along. She wiped her eyes and changed the subject, saying abruptly, “I’m not crying. It’s just that my eyes really hurt.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Shang Shao was quiet for a moment. “Because you wouldn’t cry in front of me.”
“Why?” Ying Yin asked again.
“You’re proud in front of all men. Including me.” He had fully accepted her pride and her practicality back on the plane.
Ying Yin turned her face away and closed her eyes, as if she were falling asleep. But her nose was so sore and stuffy, and a hot stream slipped from the corner of her eye. Fortunately, she had been crying all along – Shang Shao wouldn’t be able to tell which tear was real.
Shang Shao waited quietly for a moment. Just as he was about to get up and pour her a glass of water, he heard Ying Yin ask, “Do you hate it? My pride.”
“Not really.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s hard to like.”
Ying Yin felt a piercing pain slice through her limbs and body like shards of glass. She shrank back with a tremble, curling her limbs inward, her posture under the covers as vulnerable as a baby’s. She clenched her jaw, and now her tears truly became uncontrollable, spilling from her tightly shut eyes.
It was a while before Shang Shao noticed something was truly wrong. Perhaps because when someone is weeping bitterly, it’s hard to stop their body from shaking.
His hand came to rest on Ying Yin’s shoulder, as cool and temperate as it had been when they got off the plane that day.
“Ying Yin?” He only said her name, in a questioning tone, nothing else.
Ying Yin didn’t turn around. Shang Shao applied a little more force, trying to turn her toward him. Ying Yin resisted, curling her body even tighter, a faint, thin whimper escaping her nose.
The doctor was taking far too long. Shang Shao grew restless, but that restlessness didn’t come from Ying Yin’s crying.
Finally, he knelt on the bed with one knee, lowered his shoulder, pushed his arm under her armpit, and pulled her firmly back into his arms.
She had cried herself into a sweat – the hollow of her neck was damp and feverish, her cheeks flushed with an unhealthy red, her black hair plastered to her face and neck.
At a moment like this, it would be beastly to kiss her breathless.
Besides, he had no standing to do so.
He had thought, after all, that he meant at least something different to her.
Time and again, he had stepped in to help her – high-end jewelry, a contract worth a fortune, bringing her back to his own home, showing up unannounced at her home, being invited to sit down for a warm, harmonious dinner.
He still remembered that evening in the courtyard, the warm glow of the lights.
He had thought that, in her heart, he was at least somewhat different from Song Shizhang – that she feared those powerful, high-and-mighty men, too afraid to ask for help, gritting her teeth and bearing it all with pride. But now that same pride had been given to him, intact and unchanged. And only now did he realize: he was no different from any of them.
Shang Shao touched her forehead, wiping away her hot tears. His way of coaxing her was truly not very skillful: “The fault is all mine. But you’ve held onto your pride for so long, and now you’re crying in front of me because you’re sick – wouldn’t it be a terrible waste to throw it all away?”
As if soothing a child, he negotiated with her. “How about you only cry until the doctor gets here?”
“Can you really not like my pride?” Ying Yin buried her face in the crook of his arm, wiping her tears on his sleeve – the sleeve that carried the scent of state banquet wine and the bitter frost of deep winter.
“Do you only like obedience…”
Her words came out fragmented, broken, interspersed with sobs.
But pride was the most precious thing Ying Fan had ever given her. She had taught her so many lessons about knowing what was good for her and reading the room – but pride was the one lesson that wasn’t in the textbook.
Ying Fan hadn’t wanted her to learn it. But Ying Yin had learned it all too well – surpassing the teacher, as hard and unyielding as bone.
If he didn’t like her pride, then he would never like her. Never.
“How can I like the same things you’ve given to Song Shizhang and other men?” Shang Shao curved his lips slightly, speaking casually. “Stop crying.”
“In front of them…” Ying Yin let out an uncontrollable sniffle, then a tiny sneeze through her nose.
A-choo – her body gave a little jolt, like a small dog shaking its head.
“In front of them,” she continued, punctuated by hiccupping sobs, “I wasn’t proud at all.”
Shang Shao’s sleeve was soaked through with her tears, but he didn’t blame her. Listening to her utterly unconvincing defense, he only asked with the same casual air, “Is that so?”
“I’ve accepted film offers from Song Shizhang, thrown away his rings, worn his haute couture. I’ve seduced Chen Youhan before…” Ying Yin racked her brains.
Shang Shao: “…”
“I left lipstick marks on his shirt and made him give me his number.”
Shang Shao: “…”
Ying Yin swallowed hard, her feverish mind struggling to keep up. “I know how to behave. Go ask around – I’ve never been ungrateful or difficult with anyone else. But! But… I never fooled around…”
Her rambling was incoherent and all over the place. Shang Shao truly couldn’t listen any longer. All that stuck in his head was one name: Chen Youhan.
After a long pause, he asked, his face expressionless, “Say that again. You seduced… Chen Youhan?”
“Mm,” Ying Yin said, her voice thick with a nasal tone, accompanied by a small nod.
“Why?”
“Because he was rich and very handsome.”
Chen Youhan was rich and very handsome – Shang Shao couldn’t argue with that. But that didn’t stop a thick, unfamiliar ache from churning in his chest, so intense it nearly took his breath away.
After a long moment, he slowly loosened his bow tie, his voice deepening as he asked, with extreme composure, “What you’re saying is, if he hadn’t rejected you, you would have gone for it.”
“No,” Ying Yin said, still pressing her face against his sleeve, shaking her head vigorously. “He’s too experienced. I was afraid of catching something…”
After all her rambling, this was the only sensible thing she’d said.
But Shang Shao wasn’t satisfied. His eyes narrowed. “So, if it were someone less experienced, with a good reputation, you would have gone for it instead.”
Ying Yin froze for a moment, thinking hard. Just as Shang Shao’s aura was approaching freezing point, she finally managed to deny it in time. “No. Song Shizhang has a very good reputation too. And of course, I’m proud in front of him as well – but that kind of pride… is different from what I feel with you, Mr. Shang.”
Shang Shao’s Adam’s apple moved. He exhaled four words, barely more than a breath. “How is it different?”
Ying Yin hadn’t even realized when she had stopped crying. Her feverish, alcohol-soaked brain was slowly beginning to work – though not much.
Acting on instinct, she slowly turned the tables and asked, “Mr. Shang, what did you mean today when you said ‘I want’?”
“What I said is exactly what I meant.”
“I’m asking… if you helped me, wouldn’t you expect me to spread my legs for you?”
“If you wanted to, I wouldn’t refuse.”
“I’m asking… is it true that you, Mr. Shang, have absolutely no desire to see me spread my legs for you?”
“I do have that desire.”
“I’m asking… don’t you want me, Mr. Shang? Surely you don’t want me. You’ll never want me.”
The cool, indifferent voice above her suddenly fell silent.
The wind and snow had stopped that night. The thick layer of snow absorbed every sound, and everything was hushed. Europe. Germany. The city. The night sky. The hotel. A heartbeat. A breath.
In that silence, Ying Yin lifted her face. On her cheeks, pale yet flushed, fresh tear tracks still glistened.
“That’s what I’m asking. Is that what you meant, Mr. Shang, when you said ‘I want’?”
Shang Shao did not speak.
“The thing you hate most about me is that I know when to be practical. You helped me today, gave me haute couture. But what if next year, for some reason, you do want me? How am I supposed to make you believe that I want you too – not out of gratitude or practicality?”
Tears clung to Ying Yin’s cheeks. “What if next year, you do want me?”
What if next year, you come to love me? For the sake of that ‘what if,’ I refuse to owe you anything.
Her eyes were drunk, yet impossibly clear.
“Shang Shao – the pride you hate in me – is this the kind you mean?”
Shang Shao looked into her eyes. And slowly, he began to realize just how enormous, how unforgivable a mistake he had made on that airplane.
