In a high end resturant,Liang Yueru sat by the window, staring at the swirling pattern in her water glass, waiting.
She checked her watch again. Song Lanying was late.
Not that it surprised her. Lanying was always juggling a dozen things.
Since she had taken over her family's business and turning it one of the most profitable company of the Country, finding a free afternoon had become rare.
Liang Yueru herself hadn't been in China for weeks, constantly flying in and out with the Ministry's work.
They Liang Yueru and Song Lanying had known each other since they were born.
Their mothers had been best friends long before marriage, and the bond then passed on to the next generation without effort.
For Liamg Yueru, Song Lanying was not just a friend. She was a constant. Another kind of family.
Finally, the door opened. Liang Yueru looked up and spotted her instantly.
Song Lanying waved and walked over, brushing her hair off her shoulder. "Don't look at me like that. The traffic was a nightmare."
Giving her a side eye, Liang Yueru said "Our neighbourhood is right down the street."
Song Lanying shot back with a grin "I still have the right to blame the traffic."
They ordered their food while chatting and not soon the food arrived.
"You look tired," Song Lanying said, glancing at her.
"I just got back from a week of nonstop briefings," Liang Yueru replied, pulling her hair into a loose tie. "My brain still feels stuck in translation mode."
"You should take some time off," Song Lanying said, swirling the straw in her iced drink.
Liang Yueru let out a soft snort. "You sound like my director."
"That grandpa of yours is hilarious. Maybe you should actually listen to him for once," Song Lanying teased.
Luang Yueru snorted and rolled her eyes at her words.
Suddenly, there was a beat of silence. Then song Lanying's tone softened, her teasing edge replaced by something more serious.
"Actually… there's something I need to tell you."
Liang Yueru looked up, cautious now. "What is it?"
Song Lanying hesitated, chewing her bottom lip for a second. Then she said, "Zeyang saw Lin Zhihao. Two days ago.He is back in the city"
Luang Yueru didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Her expression remained unreadable.
Song Lanying watched her carefully, then went on, "I've been holding onto this since Zeyang told me. I didn't know how to bring it up. It's been so long; no one's seen Lin Zhihao since… you know. Since everything between you two."
She paused, her voice quieter now. "Honestly, I'd even forgotten what he looked like."
Luang Yueru didn't flinch."I know, I've already met him."
Song Lanying's head snapped up. "What?"
"Yesterday. And again today."
"Sorry, what?" Her voice jumped half an octave.
Liang Yueru leaned back in her seat, arms folded. "And… we kissed."
Song Lanying looked like she'd just been smacked with a dessert plate. "You kissed him?"
"No. He kissed me. And I did respond back," Liang Yueru said, shooting her a dry look. "And no, it's not funny."
"I'm not laughing." Song Lanying's lips twitched dangerously. "I swear I'm not."
Liang Yueru rolled her eyes. "It just… happened. I'm still trying to figure out what kind of emotional ambush that was."
Song Lanying leaned in across the table. "Are you okay?"
"I think I am. Weirdly. Here I am talking, breathing, still hungry. Only mildly traumatised," said Liang Yueru, half-dramatically.
A small giggle broke through Song Lanying's attempt at sympathy. "Honestly, I always imagined we'd need emergency wine and a mop when this day came."
Liang Yueru gave her a faint smile. "Same."
"And now you're telling me you've seen him twice?" Song Lanying repeated, as if needing to hear it again to believe it.
Liang Yueru nodded and added. "He's also coming with me. On the Middle East assignment."
Song Lanying dropped her chopsticks. "You're kidding."
"I wish I was. Two months. Same team," said Liang Yueru flatly.
Song Lanying buried her face in her hands. "This is a plot twist. Why does your life read like one of those dramas I binge at 2 a.m. in secret?"
Liang Yueru sighed. "Trust me, I keep waiting for the screenwriter to take a coffee break."
Lunch carried on; some teasing, a few quiet moments, and the rest left for later emotional processing.
As they stood to leave, Song Lanying looked at her more seriously. "Don't forget Zeyang's birthday. Day after tomorrow. I'll throw a shoe at you if you're late."
"I wouldn't dream of missing it," Liang Yueru said with a faint smirk.
The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur. Liang Yueru returned to the Ministry and drowned herself in work.
Reports. Briefs. More meetings.
It helped. It gave her something to do, something to focus on other than that morning or the night before.
She didn't look at the clock until it was past ten.
Everyone else had already gone. She stretched, packed her things, and walked out of the building.
She had only taken a few steps when she saw him.
Lin Zhihao.
He stood just few steps away from her, hands in his pockets, like he had been waiting.
She halted. Her arms were still slightly raised from her stretch, and for a second, she looked like someone caught in the middle of an interpretive dance.
He took a step forward. "You can put your arms down. Every time we meet, you invent a new greeting style."
Her hands dropped immediately, and flush of anger crept up through her body. She turned, walked ahead, fast. Not wanting to talk to him.
But within seconds, he caught up and gently grabbed her wrist.
"Yueru."
She didn't turn.
"How have you been?" he asked.
She turned now, her face tight.
"You're really asking me that?"
He looked calm. Still. Too calm.
"After seven years," she said. "And now you want to play let's catch up?"
He didn't say anything.
She pulled her hand back sharply. "What are you doing here?"
"I never plan for things to happen this way ." He said calmly.
"Well, I didn't either. And I don't want things to proceed this as well, so let go of my wrist."
Still, he didn't move. His presence was maddening. Calm. Unapologetic.
"I'm seeing someone," she said looking at him. "I'm thinking about marrying him. I don't need any of this."
She turned briefly, expecting a reaction. Maybe shock. Maybe anger.
There was something in his eyes, but it disappeared before she could figure it out.
He stepped aside.
"You can leave," he said.
She didn't wait. Her car was already waiting. The valet stood by the door, silent.
She got in, shut the door, and drove off.
Fast. It would be humiliating as people say getting caught lying by your ex; specially the one you hadn't seen in years. Maintaining her aura was more important.
By the time she reached home, she threw her keys on the table and sat down, pressing her palm against her face.
She wasn't hurt in the way she expected.
She was angry. Confused. Frustrated.
But not heart broken.Maybe all the tears had been used up years ago and whatever left was used yesterday.
Whatever it was, it wasn't heartbreak.
And maybe that was what unsettled her the most.