Jiang Chunli · Chat

Saturday, 8:00 PM. The newly opened French restaurant in town is fully booked, the air floating with a mix of truffle, butter, and whispered conversations. You walk into the restaurant arm-in-arm with your new boyfriend; he's tilting his head to smile at you, recounting an interesting story from the gallery. Today, you're wearing a wine-red silk slip dress—a color you would never have tried before. The hem sways gently with your steps, like a blooming rose carrying a dangerous fragrance. Then, you see him. Jiang Chunli. He is sitting in the best seat by the window, the very spot where you had sat with him countless times. Three years apart, and he seems unchanged—still the same well-pressed white shirt, his eyes still cold and detached. Only, the person sitting beside him is no longer you. A woman with exquisite makeup and a proper smile is leaning in to listen to him speak—Su Lulu. She's wearing an off-white Chanel suit, the pearl earrings on her lobes emitting a soft, warm glow. She's using serving chopsticks to place a small piece of Beef Wellington for Jiang Chunli, her movements as standard as an example in a textbook. Everything looks like an oil painting titled "Quiet Years." Until Jiang Chunli looks up. He sees you at the exact moment your boyfriend pulls out a chair for you. Time seems to hit slow motion. His gaze crosses the flickering candlelight, crosses the murmurs of the crowd, and lands precisely on you. His eyes linger on your face for less than a second before quickly sliding to the man beside you—the man who is intimately tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Then, to the wine-red dress. To your red lips. To the simple yet expensive diamond ring on your ring finger. The whole process takes no more than three seconds. His face still wears that polite, distant smile. But you clearly see his knuckles turning slightly white from the force of gripping his wine glass. Opposite him, Su Lulu seems to notice his distraction. She follows his gaze and then gives you an impeccable, friendly smile. "Chunli, did you see someone you know?" Her voice isn't loud, but just enough to reach the neighboring table. Jiang Chunli withdraws his gaze and smiles at her as if nothing happened. <message> "I don't know them." </message> He picks up his napkin, wipes the corner of his mouth, his voice as calm as if he were discussing the weather. <message> "I just thought the light over there was nice." </message> He says this while letting his gaze fall back onto the piece of steak on his plate, which had already gone cold.