Love in the Fast Lane

“Shall we toast to a pleasant collaboration?”

After a silence that lasted more than ten minutes, Tang Ning discarded the extinguished cigarette butt between his fingers and looked up with a smile.

The suffocating silence was broken by Tang Ning’s words.

Murong Feng was suddenly exhilarated, though he restrained himself with dignity. Anyone could see that a huge weight seemed to have been lifted from his heart. If he had been somewhat nervous and apprehensive before Tang Ning spoke, now Murong Feng, if alone, would certainly clench his fists tightly in celebration.

Holding up his glass, Murong Feng stood up: “Then here’s to a pleasant cooperation, Manager Mo, and thank you for your significant contributions to the company. It’s not just about your performance at work.”

Mo Zihan thought to herself, if you had said this at the beginning when you were giving me the cold shoulder, maybe I would have been sheepishly apologetic. But now, well, I’ll take it all in stride!

Murong Feng continued, “Your salary is quite decent within the company, but your performance at work is evident to all. Now, you’ve also been a great help to the company. So, although we can’t promote you just yet, I will suggest at tomorrow’s morning meeting that we increase your base salary. The company has done well this year, and the year-end bonus will be calculated based on the new base salary.”

Mo Zihan smiled, “It looks like I’ll be making a small fortune then, thank you, Mr. Mu.”

After sitting back down, Murong Feng said to Tang Ning, “Those three design drawings of yours, if we talk purely in terms of economic benefits, the compensation we’ve offered you isn’t low, especially considering that you won’t find another design firm in this city that splits profits like that. But compared to the long-term benefits on a larger scale, that compensation really does shortchange you, especially since it’s a buyout. So, could you please visit the office tomorrow? Let Manager Mo accompany you to my office, and I’ll have the Human Resources Department and Finance Department sort out the paperwork for you. What do you say… are you free?”

In making this offer, Murong Feng was compensating for the previous unfair treatment in the contract. Seeing this, it seemed Murong Feng truly was a far-sighted businessman who knew how to acknowledge and amend his mistakes.

When the contract was last signed, he hadn’t realized where the company truly needed Tang Ning. However, as time passed and the wide-ranging impact of Tang Ning’s three design drawings became apparent, Murong Feng began to recognize the importance of this designer who, until today, had no prior interactions with him. This realization came especially when compared to Murong Feng’s own plans for the company’s future.

Thus, it can be said that he is a businessman with great vision.

“Then I’ll have to trouble Mr. Mu,” Tang Ning knew. Tonight’s meeting was likely unknown to most within the company, and without Murong Feng’s personal arrangement, someone like him-earning a salary equivalent to that of a department manager but not working in the office-would neither be received nor dared to be received by either Human Resources or the Finance Department. Therefore, meeting Murong Feng, the general manager, was essential.

In doing so, Murong Feng was also making it clear to himself that once inside the company, even if he did not adhere to a nine-to-five schedule, and even if he was there just to earn some extra money, he must admit that he was now one of Murong Feng’s workers.

Tang Ning did not mind this fact. It was simply the reality, and what was there not to admit? For him, having a job that supported his lifestyle and supplemented his family’s income, requiring nothing more than his own creativity, was already more than satisfactory. Why demand more?

As for Murong Feng’s attitude and the implications beneath it, Tang Ning really didn’t care-not in the slightest.

In this society, social classes have already formed and are evident everywhere. If he couldn’t change that, then it was better not to care. Having decided not to care about these things, why would he bother thinking about them anymore?

Moreover, the meeting tomorrow would only serve to indulge Murong Feng in a sense of clear class distinction, psychologically speaking. It wouldn’t actually change or affect anything in reality, so what was there to worry about?

Tang Ning considered himself to have at least a little courage in acknowledging reality.

Mo Zihan secretly observed Tang Ning, who seemed easy-going, as if nothing really mattered, but actually possessed an unyielding temperament that made the so-called upper class quite uncomfortable-a mysterious quality. To someone like Murong Feng, hosting this meal today would, in his own eyes, definitely be considered a condescending gesture. However, Tang Ning’s behavior was sure to make him uncomfortable.

Regarding this somewhat capable pretty boy, Mo Zihan had her own opinion. He had his own pride, a kind of pride that seemed vague and belonged to their grassroots level.

Though he seemed to invite, Murong Feng wasn’t sincerely asking Tang Ning to join the company immediately. Frankly, the substantial salary Tang Ning could draw from the company was insignificant to Murong Feng; he wouldn’t even think about it. His intention was merely to flaunt his status tomorrow, nothing more.

Would Tang Ning accept that?

But in the end, Tang Ning did accept-not out of submission, but acceptance. In this job matter, his attitude was not of necessity but of letting things take their natural course. He had no requests from Murong Feng; without desires, one stands firm, and in ultimate firmness, there is also gentleness.

This lukewarm expression of gratitude clarified the status of both individuals-Murong Feng as the capitalist, and Tang Ning as the proletariat. Tang Ning didn’t need Murong Feng to survive, so while he was thankful for the opportunity provided, he was not grateful. At the same time, this thank-you also gave Murong Feng a way out, as well as one for Tang Ning himself.

This step was one that Murong Feng could step down from, and Tang Ning could step up to.

This meant that their interaction was based on mutual needs, rather than one owing the other anything.

Just like that, a time was set for tomorrow’s visit to the company. Murong Feng took a call and left first, leaving the bill to be settled by someone else. Tang Ning and Mo Zihan exited the restaurant. Tang Ning was about to hail a cab for Mo Zihan when she, noticing it was still early, suggested, “Why don’t we walk a bit to help digest the meal?”

Tang Ning hesitated, a pause that Mo Zihan, particularly sensitive when they were together, picked up on instantly.

What was he thinking?

Mo Zihan didn’t ask; she knew that Tang Ning’s hesitation was not about work, but rather about those moments in the Tea House when he seemed on the verge of speaking but struggled to begin.

Such matters, she reasoned, were his to disclose when he chose. She would listen when he was ready to talk, not out of indifference, but because Mo Zihan had come to an understanding.

Some things shouldn’t be rushed.

And some secrets, or matters hard to address directly, could be left for time to reveal.

The snow had stopped, but it was still bitterly cold, and the wind seemed to grow stronger, shrinking vehicles and forcing pedestrians to wrap themselves tightly in their clothes and dart past quickly. Almost no one walked as leisurely as they did, which made passersby give them a curious look.

However, to them, those looks felt almost insane.

Tang Ning removed his gloves and handed them to her: “Wear these, it’s not good for a woman to cross her arms for warmth.”

Mo Zihan had not brought gloves, and her hands were tucked tightly inside her sleeves, the cold air funneling in through the openings no matter how tightly she squeezed.

The gloves brought a dry warmth that was unfamiliar to Mo Zihan; no one had treated her this way before, as she had always shown she didn’t need it.

But this time, Mo Zihan didn’t refuse.

The streetlights were dim, and the reflective shine of the road, flattened by car wheels, seemed brighter in comparison. They walked on in silence, Tang Ning’s mind heavy with thoughts that Mo Zihan could feel.

She sensed that his concerns were not about the upcoming side job, but couldn’t think what else it could be. Should she ask? Could she ask?

It wasn’t that Mo Zihan hadn’t used excuses like “even friends must keep some big secrets from each other” before, often finding them quite reasonable. But now, these excuses felt weightless, as if a single breath could blow them away.

“Let time reveal the truth. What needs to be known, will eventually be known.”