Chapter 7
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Chapter 7: Collaboration
Jiang Liuyi sat beside Song Xian as everyone settled into their seats. Lin Qiushui gestured for the waiter to bring the red wine. Dressed in a crisp, tailored suit, she exuded competence—especially since she was Jiang Liuyi’s boss at the company. Naturally, Jiang Liuyi couldn’t afford to embarrass her in front of others.
“Red wine’s fine, right?” Lin Qiushui asked. “It’s the weekend tomorrow—no one’s working. Let’s really enjoy ourselves tonight, shall we?”
Zhao Yuebai glanced at Jiang Liuyi, then at Song Xian. “It’s her first time dining with us. Keep it chill. Don’t get too rowdy.”
“What do you mean, rowdy?” a friend shot back in protest. “We haven’t seen each other in months, and you’re still the same, Zhao Yuebai.”
Zhao Yuebai huffed. “What’s wrong with that?”
The friend smoothed her hair with exaggerated grace. “Still such a prude.”
Zhao Yuebai looked thoroughly annoyed, but before she could retort again, Lin Qiushui stepped in, pressing a hand down between them. “Enough, both of you! Tonight is Yu Bai’s welcome dinner—let’s keep it civil.”
Yu Bai’s welcome dinner?
Song Xian turned slightly at the words, casting a glance at Jiang Liuyi. For a moment, she couldn’t quite understand why she’d been brought here.
Was it that Jiang Liuyi worried she might lose control around Yu Bai, and needed her presence here to stay grounded?
Song Xian gave a small shake of her head, just as Lin Qiushui turned back and asked, “You drink red wine, right?”
Before Song Xian could respond, Jiang Liuyi spoke up. “She’s driving—no alcohol for her.”
Song Xian remained silent.
Yu Bai, watching how protective she was, murmured with a touch of resentment, “Qiushui, pour me a glass.”
Lin Qiushui nodded. “Alright.”
Since Song Xian wasn’t drinking, Jiang Liuyi had bought her a bottle of milk instead. A girl sitting beside Yu Bai chuckled. “Still drinking milk at your age? Don’t tell me you’re planning to make up for it tonight?”
They were all longtime friends—an off-color joke here and there wasn’t unusual. But Song Xian wasn’t exactly close with any of them.
Zhao Yuebai glanced over and shot back, “You’re the one being crude. What, jealous she actually has a sex life?”
The girl turned to Zhao Yuebai with a grin. “I totally am. Just look at Yiyi—she’s ahead of us in everything. First to fall in love, first to get married, and now first to enjoy the perks of married life.”
Then she turned to Song Xian and asked, “So how is it with Yiyi? Does it feel good?”
A few at the table visibly stiffened. This girl—Shen—was Yu Bai’s best friend. Ever since hearing about Jiang Liuyi’s marriage, she’d been bitter, calling her heartless and ungrateful for leaving Yu Bai after all those years. Now, every time she saw Song Xian, she couldn’t help but provoke her.
“Shen!”
“Cut it out—”
“It does,” Song Xian said calmly.
Those three simple words dropped into the conversation like a muffled thunderclap—cutting through the noise and catching everyone off guard. The entire table fell into stunned silence, faces stiffening in disbelief as they turned to look at Song Xian, blinking in shock.
Song Xian, unaware of the ripple she’d caused, offered a sincere explanation. “It’s quite good, actually. Our sex life is really healthy. Jiang Liuyi’s technique isn’t bad…”
Before she could finish, Jiang Liuyi hastily covered her mouth, leaning in close to whisper, “You don’t have to say that part.”
Song Xian nodded at the suggestion, then turned and gave the others a small, unbothered smile.
Yu Bai gripped her glass so tightly her nails dug into her palm, carving deep, angry crescents into her skin—like claws tearing at her from the inside.
Her expression darkened. Just as she drew in a sharp breath and began to rise from her seat, Shen reached over and yanked her back down.
With a smirk, she muttered under her breath, “Who would’ve thought our Yiyi was so good in bed. Back when she was with Yu Bai, she must’ve been just as… talented.”
She didn’t finish the sentence—but the meaning was clear. What Jiang Liuyi did for Song Xian now, she’d once done just as passionately for Yu Bai.
Just twisting the knife. Everyone had their ways.
But what Shen didn’t realize was that with those words, Yu Bai’s face turned even paler.
When she and Jiang Liuyi had been in love, they’d never crossed any lines—barely even kissed. She once read a line in a book that said love was restraint. Once, when Jiang Liuyi leaned in to kiss her, she asked if she could hold back. Jiang Liuyi had loved her—of that, there was no doubt—and from that moment on, they only held hands, exchanged light kisses on the cheek. They even made a pact: they would only let go completely after they were married.
She adored the way Jiang Liuyi restrained herself for her. To her, that was what love looked like.
Because what you can’t have always feels the most precious.
If she had known back then how it would all end—if she had known they would break up someday…
Yu Bai lowered her head, hiding the bitter storm brewing inside. Even Lin Qiushui, who’d been smoothing things over all night, was caught off guard by that last remark. Shen had gone too far—saying something like that right in front of Jiang Liuyi’s wife. They might not have married for love, but even a fool could see how much Song Xian cared about Jiang Liuyi.
Wasn’t that just deliberately trying to make things awkward?
Everyone glanced toward Song Xian, expecting to see a flicker of hurt or embarrassment. But her expression remained steady—her gaze calm, detached, as if Shen’s words hadn’t touched her in the slightest.
Zhao Yuebai couldn’t help but speak up. “Song Xian, don’t take it personally. It’s true that Yu Bai and Yiyi used to be involved, but that ended a long time ago!”
No one really knew what to make of the situation—it was so awkward, you could practically feel the urge to dig a hole and disappear into it.
Song Xian looked at Zhao Yuebai and gave a polite nod. “It’s fine.”
Zhao Yuebai tugged at Jiang Liuyi’s sleeve, leaning in to whisper, “So gracious! Look at your wife—such poise. She really made you look good tonight.”
Who else would dare sit their ex and their spouse at the same table?
Jiang Liuyi turned slightly, glancing at Song Xian. She was about to ask if she wanted to leave when Lin Qiushui cut in. “Alright, enough. You all know how rarely we get to meet up—maybe two, three times a year. And Yu Bai’s been abroad for years. Now she’s finally back, and this is how it goes?”
She turned to Shen. “Apologize to Song Xian.”
Shen pressed her lips together in defiance.
Before she could speak, Yu Bai picked up her glass and brought it over to Song Xian. “Shen’s young and tends to speak bluntly. I’ll apologize on her behalf.”
Song Xian raised her glass of milk, lightly clinking it against Yu Bai’s and taking a small sip out of courtesy.
Yu Bai downed her wine in one go.
A few seconds later, she poured herself another and said to both Jiang Liuyi and Song Xian, “A toast to the newlyweds—congratulations.”
As Song Xian stood, her hand bumped the edge of the table, causing her glass to wobble. Jiang Liuyi reacted instantly, steadying it for her. “Are you alright? Did that hurt?”
Song Xian shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Yu Bai sat back down after her toast, teeth clenched, a sour ache blooming deep in her chest.
Jiang Liuyi used to treat her that way too—with such gentle care, always so cautious, as if afraid she’d bruise. Even when Yu Bai claimed she was fine, Jiang Liuyi would quietly reach under the table to rub the spot she’d bumped.
Yu Bai didn’t dare lower her gaze now. She couldn’t bear the thought—couldn’t bring herself to look—if Jiang Liuyi was treating someone else the same way.
The confidence she’d had before returning to China was starting to crumble, piece by piece. Shen slipped her hand into hers and whispered, “Baibai, don’t overthink it. She’s doing it on purpose. She wants you to see. Wants to make you mad.”
Yu Bai lifted her head and looked toward Jiang Liuyi. For a fleeting moment, she felt like she was staring at a stranger.
Lin Qiushui raised her glass and turned to Yu Bai. “Baibai, your time abroad must’ve been rewarding, right? I heard Professor Bai gave you personal guidance?”
Yu Bai took a deep breath, steadying herself. Then she looked up with a composed smile. “It was just a few pointers—nothing too formal.”
“Don’t be modest,” Lin Qiushui said. “We all know. Oh, right—didn’t you invite Professor Bai to your exhibition?”
Shen cut in, eager to help. “She did. He said he’d come if his schedule allows.”
At that, Song Xian’s hand gave an involuntary twitch. Her glass struck the table’s edge with a crisp clink. Shen glanced over and raised her brows, voice brimming with smugness. “I heard Song Xian studied illustration too, right?”
“Then you must know of Professor Bai Ye?”
Was there anyone who didn’t know Bai Ye these days? A renowned disciple of the late Master Zhang He, Bai Ye was a towering figure in the art world. Anyone who studied painting had dreamed of being mentored by him. His last exhibition drew students from across the globe, and by the end, the ticket prices were astronomical—money alone couldn’t buy a seat.
Song Xian replied calmly, “I know him.”
Shen added, “Of course she does. Who doesn’t? But knowing doesn’t mean anything. Out of all of us here, Baibai’s probably the only one who’s actually met Professor Bai.”
Lin Qiushui chimed in, “I heard the top-selling piece at his last auction was a work by his student—Shaniya, wasn’t it? Went for over forty million?”
Another friend corrected her, “Technically, Mr. Chi had the highest bid—eighty million—but he didn’t sell the piece. Most of Professor Bai’s own works are for exhibition only. So yes, Shaniya’s went for the highest auction price.”
Shen turned to the group with a gleam in her eye. “Shaniya is Professor Bai’s final disciple—naturally, she’s in a league of her own. But our Baibai isn’t far behind. Have you all seen her latest work? Even Professor Bai said it bore a striking resemblance to Shaniya’s style.”
Though Shaniya was one of Bai Ye’s students, her style stood apart—bold in color and wildly versatile, unlike any of his other disciples. It was this distinctiveness that set her apart. Her debut piece alone had sold for over forty million.
Even Bai Ye’s breakout work back in the day had only fetched thirty million.
Yu Bai quickly added, “Shen’s exaggerating again. How could I compare to Shaniya? Her art has a natural brilliance—it’s in a league of its own.”
Zhao Yuebai nodded in agreement. “I’ve heard of Shaniya too. The industry speaks of her in glowing terms—exceptionally gifted. Even Professor Bai once said he couldn’t match her talent when he was her age.”
Beneath the table, Song Xian’s hands were clenched tightly in her lap. Every muscle in her body was tense, her arms aching from how stiffly she held herself. Her face remained expressionless, even as the others continued chatting animatedly about Shaniya’s work. She turned her head and quietly said to Jiang Liuyi, “I’m going to the restroom.”
Jiang Liuyi looked over. “Want me to come with you?”
Song Xian replied, “That’s not necessary.”
As she stepped out of the private room, Jiang Liuyi’s gaze followed her. The moment the door shut behind her, Zhao Yuebai asked, “Hey, Yiyi, where’d your wife go?”
Shen smirked. “Did she get embarrassed?”
Another friend chimed in, “Why would she be embarrassed?”
Shen shrugged. “It’s a matter of class. She couldn’t follow the conversation, couldn’t join in—so of course she felt out of place. That’s why, when it comes to marriage, it’s best to find someone who’s your equal. Sensitive types hear a few things and suddenly think we’re mocking them for being uneducated.”
Jiang Liuyi shot to her feet, her expression dark with anger. She’d finally reached her limit. “Qian Shen!”
Shen looked at her innocently. “What?”
Lin Qiushui quickly pulled Jiang Liuyi back and snapped at Shen, “That’s enough. Shut your mouth.”
She was older than everyone at the table, and the group instinctively respected her as the elder sister figure. Even if Shen was unhappy, she didn’t dare talk back. Zhao Yuebai stood as well and added, “Seriously, is this what these dinners are for now? Just to watch people argue? If that’s the case, don’t call me next time.”
Jiang Liuyi grabbed her bag. “I’m leaving. Don’t invite me to these things again.”
Without waiting for Lin Qiushui to stop her, she turned to go.
“Yiyi—” Yu Bai called out in a panic.
Whenever Yu Bai got flustered, her eyes would turn red and her voice would catch.
Jiang Liuyi paused for a second, fingers tightening around the edge of her purse. In the past, the moment Yu Bai called her name, her heart would soften—no matter what Yu Bai had done, she’d always forgive her without hesitation.
But that was a long, long time ago. The moment Yu Bai abandoned her, all those reflexes, all those memories—along with Yu Bai herself—had been cut clean from her life.
Jiang Liuyi said nothing. She simply slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out.
Yu Bai stood frozen, stunned that she’d actually left. Her hands gripped the edge of the table, lips pressed tight. At her side, Shen gave her a push. “Baibai, what are you waiting for? Go after her!”
Yu Bai bit down hard and, teetering on her heels, jogged out of the private room—only to find the hallway empty. No sign of Jiang Liuyi. What she did see was Song Xian, just stepping out of the restroom.
Song Xian had only taken a few steps when her phone rang. It was Jiang Liuyi, telling her to come straight downstairs and not bother returning to the room. She agreed and had just turned toward the elevators when a voice called from behind her.
“Song Xian?”
She turned.
“Yu Bai,” she greeted politely. “Did you need something?”
Yu Bai took a calming breath, composing herself as she reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, revealing the elegant line of her neck. Her earrings shimmered under the hallway light, highlighting her delicate, radiant features. With poised grace, she said, “It’s nothing really. I just wanted to apologize on Shen’s behalf. She was out of line earlier—please don’t take her words to heart.”
Song Xian didn’t seem particularly affected. Her tone remained calm. “It’s alright. I didn’t take it to heart.”
Yu Bai glanced at her. “And I hope you don’t mind my past with Liuyi. That was years ago.”
“I know,” Song Xian replied. “I don’t mind.”
Is she really that gracious?
The thought gnawed at Yu Bai. Her chest tightened. “I’m not sure if Liuyi’s mentioned it,” she continued, “but we’ll be working together on a project soon.”
Will she tolerate that? Accept them being alone together?
Song Xian could—and did. She responded with only a quiet, indifferent “Oh.”
Yu Bai stared at her, thinking she might catch some crack in the mask, some flicker of unease. Unable to help herself, she pressed on. “Don’t you have anything you want to say to me?”
Say? Say what?
Song Xian looked at her, pausing for a few seconds before offering a faint smile. Her voice was sincere. “I hope your collaboration goes well.”
Yu Bai choked on her own breath, face instantly flushing with humiliation.
