Just as I reached the door of the office, Xiao Wei, already seated on the sofa chair, suddenly spoke up.
"Wait."
I paused mid-step, my hand still on the doorknob.
"Is there something else?" I asked calmly, without turning around.
"Is that really all you have to say to me?"
"Do you need me to do anything else?" I suppressed the confusion and unease bubbling inside me, forcing my tone to remain composed.
"This is how you're leaving after our first meeting? You really don't have anything more to say?"
Get out now. Don't overthink it. Don't mess this up, I told myself over and over. But the corner of my mouth twitched, betraying a strange, inexplicable ache in my chest.
"You're really just going to walk out?" Her tone was sharp, pressing.
"I... I still have work to do." My reply was mechanical, though I couldn't help but glance back at her.
She wore a half-smile, and the look in her eyes made my heart tighten.
"You said 'work,' huh?" Her voice suddenly turned bright and playful. "Hold on. Let me see if I can find some 'work' for you to do."
She stood and walked over to the general manager's desk, rummaging around on the surface.
"All right," I replied, doing my best to stay calm.
"Come over here."
I walked toward her, stopping behind her. Her back was slender yet upright, carrying an aura that was hard to ignore.
She picked something up from the desk and handed it to me. "Please take a look at this. I want you to look very closely."
I froze, then looked down—
It wasn't a document.
It was an elegant wooden photo frame.
Inside it was a wedding photo.
I was stunned.
The man in the picture was the general manager, no doubt. But the woman… she looked somewhat like Xiao Wei, though not exactly the same. I instinctively lifted my eyes and stole a glance at her.
Was it really her? They looked so alike...
Could it be...?
Could she really be...?
"What do you think? How do I compare to the woman in the photo?" she suddenly asked, her tone light but with an undertone of chill.
I was at a loss for words.
"You're prettier than the woman in the photo." I finally mustered the courage to reply, though confusion swirled even more violently inside me.
"But I still don't understand..."
"You still don't understand?" She looked at me with a half-smile, her tone tinged with challenge.
"What's your relationship with the general manager's wife?" I finally blurted out, my mind a tangled mess. "Aren't they calling you the general manager's wife?"
"I am the general manager's wife," she replied, calm and steady.
My heart sank.
"That photo doesn't look like me at all," she said, gently taking the frame from my hands and placing it back on the desk.
"Really? But the woman in that photo... is that also you?"
"What do you think? What do your eyes tell you?"
She stared coldly at me, her gaze like a bottomless abyss.
Was it resentment? Should I acknowledge her now?
Whatever the case, we needed to clear the air.
"Are you Xiao Wei?" I asked, my voice trembling.
She smiled faintly. "Xiao Wei? You mean that song by Huang Pin Yuan? I like that song."
I knew she was dodging on purpose.
"Are you Xiao Wei or not?" My frustration finally started to show.
"You recognized me from the beginning, didn't you?"
I stayed silent, then murmured, "I just didn't expect you to be the general manager's wife."
"So what?"
"So what? I still need to make a living. You might not have to worry about money, but I do!"
My voice, too, began to harden.
"Wow, that's very realistic of you! I can get you promoted, you know!" She suddenly burst out laughing.
"No need. I don't want to rely on connections," I replied, word by word.
"Such pride!"
"Of course. A man must have a line he won't cross."
"What a man!" She clapped her hands, amused.
I held back my emotions. "If there's nothing else, I should get back to work."
I wanted to leave this suffocating office as soon as possible. Any longer and I feared I wouldn't be able to control myself.
"So, are we going to keep chatting after this?"
"Well... we'll see."
I knew she wouldn't be satisfied with that answer.
"We'll see?" Her tone turned mocking. "You already knew I'm married, didn't you? You're disappointed now that you've seen me, aren't you?"
I didn't reply. I just quickened my pace toward the door.
"You're really like this? You want me to ask you to stay?" Her voice sharpened.
"You won't be honest with me. What do you want me to do?" I was almost breaking down.
"Leaving just like that..." she suddenly burst into tears.
I stopped in my tracks. My heart twisted painfully.
Don't cry... please don't cry...
Panicked and helpless, I rushed back to her, but didn't dare touch her.
Her delicate shoulders were trembling. The sight broke me.
"Don't cry here. People might think I did something to the general manager's wife. You want me fired tomorrow?" I stammered, desperate, nearly ready to slap myself.
"All you ever think about is work!" She looked up at me, eyes glistening, but with a smile.
"No, it's not that. I just don't want to treat you badly."
"Is that so?"
"Really. Please, don't cry."
"Which eye of yours saw me crying?" she suddenly asked.
I froze.
That's when I realized—
There were no tears on her face.
She had played me again.
Exhausted, I sighed deeply.
"I'm begging you... stop messing with me," I said, my voice nearly breaking.
"Fine. Go back to work then. I won't keep you."
"All right... see you online tomorrow." I turned away.
"You really only want to see me online?" she asked one last time.
"Well... fine!" I relented.
"If you want the truth... meet me tonight."
The truth?
Her words struck like lightning through the haze in my heart.
That entire afternoon, I was a complete mess.
Like countless tangled threads twisting around in my mind.
She said to meet tonight—but we hadn't said where.
After work, I stepped out of the company, full of anticipation.
But what greeted me—
Was disappointment.
I thought she might be waiting, but the front of the office was empty, save for hurried coworkers. She was nowhere in sight.
I chuckled bitterly.
How could I be so naive to think she'd wait in plain view?
She was the general manager's wife. Of course she wouldn't.
I walked to the scooter lot and bent down to unlock the rear wheel.
That's when I saw a pair of embroidered silk shoes.
I froze.
My gaze traveled slowly upward from her feet—
Shapely legs wrapped in a soft lavender silk skirt, graceful and elegant, with a subtle air of nobility.
Then I saw her face.
The face that haunted my dreams.
"Xiao Wei..." I murmured.
She had long, silky hair draped over her shoulders and a faint smile on her lips, like a goddess stepping out of a dream.
"Mind if I hitch a ride?" she asked in her sweet voice.
I tried to calm my racing heart, stood up, and replied casually, "What happened to your Rolls-Royce?"
"It's a Mercedes," she corrected with a laugh.
"Same difference. My scooter's junk. Doesn't match your status."
"I like scooters. They're the only thing that can take me where I want to go."
I couldn't help but smile. "All right then. I'll play chauffeur. Madam, where to?"
"I want dinner." Her smile was warm and soft.
"Which restaurant?"
"Somewhere with vermicelli and meatballs."
I blinked. That was my usual dinner spot.
"You're rich. Can you really stomach that kind of food?"
"Rich people are still human. If I want it, I go."
I laughed. "All right. Hop on."
She sat sideways on the back of my scooter, gently gripping the belt loop on my waist.
My heart skipped.
It was a new kind of nervousness—
And a familiar one, too.
That food stall was my usual hangout. No signboard, just a shabby canvas awning above it, with two metal tables and three mismatched chairs inside. The air was thick with the familiar scent of fried shallots.
I stopped my scooter at the corner. Xiao Wei got off quietly and looked at the stall, a flicker of complicated emotion in her eyes.
"This... is the place you were talking about?" she asked.
"If it's too shabby for you, it's not too late to leave," I said, trying to sound serious.
She suddenly smiled, like spring wind brushing across barren soil. "I've never eaten at a place like this. You're treating me, right?"
"You sure? These chairs might wrinkle your skirt."
She glanced at me, then sat down decisively, as if proving a point.
I chuckled and ordered two bowls of vermicelli, a plate of meatballs, and a cup of winter melon tea. "Boss, make it heavy on flavor, and don't be shy with the chili."
She watched me order with practiced ease, her gaze softening.
"Is this how you've always lived?" she asked gently.
"How's that?"
"Very... real," she said with a smile. "You're not like how you seem online—so distant."
"Online is online. Real life is real life."
"But I like how you are online," she said, sincerity lacing her words.
"That's because you don't really know me."
"Then let me," she said. "Starting today."
She said it so naturally, but it was like a pebble dropped into the lake of my heart, sending ripples everywhere.
After dinner, I took her along the levee, riding slowly. The night wind brushed against us, her hair grazing my ears, stirring the last bit of my self-control.
"You said you'd tell me the truth," I said.
She stayed quiet for a moment.
"Do you remember that summer? The last time we talked at the lecture hall in college?"
I paused, recalling the day she vanished without a trace. I couldn't reach her after that. It was like she evaporated.
"Did you ever wonder if I didn't disappear by choice, but because I couldn't come back?"
"Why didn't you explain back then?"
"My dad was hospitalized. It was serious. I was called back to Taichung. When you tried to reach me, I was sitting outside the ICU..." Her voice faltered. "My phone broke that day. By the time I found a way to contact you, you were already gone."
"I thought... you didn't want to see me anymore," I said quietly.
"I was so angry with you then—for giving up so quickly."
"I looked for you for a whole month."
She bit her lip, eyes rimmed red.
"Later... my father passed away. My mom forced me to marry into one of our partner companies. I didn't have a choice." Her voice was as soft as a feather, yet each word weighed heavily.
"So, you're the general manager…?"
"In name only," she said softly. "There's no love in that marriage. He lives his life, I live mine. All that binds us is a contract."
My chest tightened. "Then why did you come looking for me?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she gently leaned her head against my back.
"I just want to try again."
"Try what?"
"Us." Her voice was barely audible.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Her words echoed in my mind. I had loved her so much—and hated her just as much. Now she had come back, carrying stories and scars. Could I really handle this love again?
The next day, she invited me to lunch. We met at a café near the office. Unlike yesterday's softness, she wore a sharp blazer and spoke with clarity and confidence.
"I called you here to show you something."
She pulled a document from her handbag and slid it across the table.
"A resignation letter?"
I stared at her in disbelief.
"I've decided to leave the company—and that marriage. I can't live a double life anymore."
"Are you sure? It'll be hard."
"I've already lost once. I won't make the same mistake again."
I looked at her, emotions surging within me.
"So, what about you?" she asked, her gaze unwavering.
I took a deep breath and said slowly, "This time, I'm not going anywhere."
She smiled. That smile was stronger than any resignation letter or promise.
A few months later, we moved into a small studio apartment and started over.
She took up design. I kept coding. Our lives were no longer luxurious, but they felt so real it almost made me cry.
We often had dinner at that little food stall. It was no longer a symbol of struggle but a witness to our journey.
Sometimes she'd tease, "If I hadn't asked you to stay that night, you'd probably be a department head by now."
I'd always laugh and say, "I'd rather be a regular employee forever than miss you a second time."
And she would squeeze my hand and whisper, "This time, I'm not going anywhere."