Chapter 3: Beijing(2)

Jiang Wanju didn’t think she had drunk that much. She tilted her head slightly, carefully studying Chen Zhouren’s face.

She said, “What a coincidence.”

Chen Zhouren raised an eyebrow at her voice, letting out a brief syllable. “Pardon?”

From his reaction, Jiang Wanju got her answer.

He didn’t remember her at all.

In history, if the Forbidden City could be considered the imperial workspace, then Houhai to the north was more like their private garden.

Once regarded as the most beautiful body of water within the city, Houhai was lined with fresh green willows, stone bridges over clear waters, and softly glowing streetlights. Jiang Wanju casually tucked her hair behind her ear, turned to look at the shimmering lake, then back at his face, and said, “Sorry, I mistook you for someone else.”

Chen Zhouren laughed.

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Chen Zhouren replied, “Can I take that as a compliment?”

Jiang Wanju nodded. “Of course.”

She liked this pace of conversation—unhurried, easy. Even though she didn’t know his name, even though they were still just strangers.

A fleeting encounter. Jiang Wanju had always been indifferent to relationships. She only focused on achieving her goals. A long time ago, her goal was getting into a prestigious university. Now, it was graduating smoothly and landing a high-paying job.

Chen Zhouren asked, “Where are you from?”

Jiang Wanju answered.

He didn’t seem particularly interested in her city, but he was clearly a little interested in her.

The night breeze grew colder. Jiang Wanju pulled her coat tighter and sneezed.

Chen Zhouren asked, “Have you eaten yet?”

Jiang Wanju shook her head.

Chen Zhouren extended an invitation. “I know a place nearby that serves authentic Beijing cuisine. The chef is excellent. Want to go try it?”

Jiang Wanju hesitated.

Chen Zhouren waited patiently for a few seconds, but when Jiang Wanju didn’t answer, he understood her hesitation. Before he could say anything, his phone rang.

It was probably a friend calling him. He took a few steps away, smiled apologetically, and made a small wave as a farewell gesture before disappearing from her sight.

Jiang Wanju lowered her head and looked at the beer bottle in her hand. Everything that had just happened felt like an ordinary, fleeting dream. A brief conversation with the man she had once caught a glimpse of in her teenage years, only to part ways again and dissolve into the vast sea of people.

Such a dreamlike story.

She took out her phone and sent a short message to Dou Qie: let’s break up.

As expected, his calls came flooding in the next second, demanding to know why, saying he didn’t agree…

Jiang Wanju simply sent him the photo of him and the senior walking together. That finally shut him up.

And just like that, a relationship that had begun in haste ended just as quickly.

After the breakup, Jiang Wanju’s college life became much simpler. Though many guys still expressed admiration for her, she had already realized that love wasn’t as sweet as it seemed, so she turned them all down.

Her roommates had gotten used to her independent nature—never causing trouble for others and not wanting others to trouble her. But they still made sure to ask for her opinion when planning group outings or shopping trips.

Jiang Wanju was an English major, and most graduates in her field either went into translation or teaching, but she was different. She had a clear goal: to work at LV#H.

The luxury goods industry seemed glamorous, like an ivory tower, drawing countless people in. Even for a single internship position, hundreds of résumés would pour in.

Jiang Wanju opened LinkedIn and searched for job postings related to luxury brands. Just in the past seven days alone, the number of views had surpassed 3,206.

That was a staggering number.

3,206 equally outstanding candidates, all competing on the same stage, yet only a handful would succeed.

Once she had set her new goal, Jiang Wanju devoted even more time to studying—not just her major coursework, but also browsing internal referral opportunities and job requirements, tailoring her learning accordingly.

She started spending more and more time in the library, immersing herself in books and study materials, only leaving when it closed.

Spring, summer, autumn, and winter flew by in the blink of an eye.

One winter night, as she stepped outside after closing time, the air felt frozen like shards of ice. Jiang Wanju let out a slow breath, watching as the warm mist of her exhale dissipated under the dim glow of the streetlights.

The dissipating white mist grew hazy, like a sheer veil wrapping around the night. Suddenly, the veil was lifted by a slender hand.

Two years later, Jiang Wanju unwrapped a small gift from her colleagues, having just returned to her dorm.

Through a senior’s recommendation, she had secured an internal referral and landed an internship in the PR department. The workload wasn’t heavy, but the tasks were often tedious, and frustrations were inevitable.

Like the upcoming brand event—Jiang Wanju had spent an entire week carefully preparing everything according to the requirements, only for the higher-ups to suddenly change their minds. All the sample materials and promotional brochures she had finalized became useless. She had no choice but to contact the manufacturers to cancel the contracts. Deposits were about to be paid, the printing process was set to begin, and now, with this abrupt reversal, the person on the other end of the call sounded understandably displeased. Jiang Wanju could only endure it.

That night, on her way home, she accidentally fell asleep on the subway and missed her stop. She was only woken up at the terminal station by a security officer. Groggy and exhausted, she felt an overwhelming urge to cry but forced herself to hold back. She got off the train slowly, realizing she was now far beyond the Fifth Ring Road in a newly developed area, desolate and empty. She had to take the subway back.

When she finally exited the station and passed by a closed cake shop, the sadness that had been piling up inside her became unbearable. She sat down on a bench, lowered her head, and took a deep breath.

It was the most crushing day since she had started working.

And, just then, she ran into the last person she wanted to see.

“Hello, do you need help?”

A familiar voice startled her into looking up. She was sure she must appear miserable—like a rookie fresh out of school who had just been beaten down by life. Meanwhile, the man in front of her was impeccably dressed in a black cashmere coat and a gray scarf, leaning slightly toward her in a concerned manner.

“Do you need a tissue?”

Chen Zhouren.

He looked exactly the same, only now with a quiet maturity that time had added.

Jiang Wanju said, “What a coincidence.”

Chen Zhouren raised an eyebrow slightly in confusion. “Sorry?”

It was obvious.

He didn’t remember her. Not even a little.