Da Guang and Lu Yue were professional cameramen. Cheng Liao sighed with relief, “I thought I’d have to take on the world with just a DV camera.”
Yan Xiao’s smile stiffened as she lowered her voice to explain, “The team leader assigned Linda to interview Sheng Jingchu instead of you. You’re now assigned to interview Cao Xihe.”
Wonderful. The peaches weren’t even ripe yet, and someone was already standing under the tree with a stick, waiting. Cheng Liao took a deep breath and tried to comfort herself. After all, Linda was a seasoned professional, and it was only right to have someone qualified handle such an important interview.
Even from a distance, Sheng Jingchu could clearly sense Cheng Liao’s disappointment. He waved her over, “Come here.”
Oh, right. Besides being a reporter, she also had assistant duties.
She quickly walked over to him.
Sheng Jingchu patted his pocket but found no candy. Not wanting to let her down, he reassured her, “I’ll buy some for you later.”
Was he trying to comfort a child? Cheng Liao widened her eyes in surprise.
To an outsider, this conversation might have sounded quite different, and Linda’s smile became a bit strained.
Ding Lan urged her two senior brothers, “Let’s go. I’ve already set the time, and it wouldn’t be good to be late.”
Sheng Jingchu was staying on the ninth floor, and Xiao Qi had already booked a room for Cheng Liao next door to his. The news media, however, had been placed on the eighth floor by the organizers.
The hotel staff had already delivered their luggage to the room. When Cheng Liao opened hers, she understood why it had been so heavy—besides clothes, it contained a coffee machine.
Sheng Jingchu’s wardrobe consisted of only three colors: white, gray, and black.
On the first floor, there was a laundry room. Cheng Liao ironed his clothes, hung them up, and then, following Xiao Qi’s phone instructions, changed all the bed linens, pillowcases, and covers.
After completing everything, Xiao Qi continued to remind her over the phone.
“Did you check the bathroom faucet? Last time in Japan, the hotel faucet dripped all night. What about the bedside lamp? The light shouldn’t be too bright; if necessary, ask the front desk to change it. Did you disinfect the switches and door handles with alcohol? And after nine at night, don’t make coffee for Mr. Sheng—it’ll affect his sleep. Breakfast should include millet porridge with a skin on top. Oh, I should have brought some millet from home; it’s organically grown.”
Cheng Liao felt her head spinning as she took notes on everything, repeatedly assuring Xiao Qi that she would take good care of Mr. Sheng before he finally hung up.
She grabbed a quick bite to eat downstairs and then returned to her room, where she quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Her phone buzzed, waking her from her slumber. Half-asleep, she glanced at it—it was a WeChat friend request.
She opened it and saw no profile picture, just a name: Sheng Jingchu.
She accepted the request.
Staring at the system message saying, “You are now friends and can chat,” she hesitated for a moment before sending a sticker of a cat licking its paw.
He replied almost instantly with just two words:
“Come over.”
Cheng Liao got up and knocked on Sheng Jingchu’s door.
He had already changed clothes and let her in, pointing to a pile of bags on the sofa. “These are for you.”
Cheng Liao opened them one by one—clothes, clothes, and more clothes.
She suddenly remembered that she had left in such a rush that she hadn’t packed any extra clothes.
But all the clothes were quite girly: overalls, puffed skirts, T-shirts with little ducks embroidered on them, and cropped pants with floral hems.
She packed the clothes back up and turned to him, “Did you have Junior Sister help you pick these out?”
He nodded.
He couldn’t be sure what she liked, so he had consulted Ding Lan and Cao Xihe, but mostly he made his own decisions.
Cheng Liao rubbed her forehead and, after putting away the clothes, plopped down on the sofa, cross-legged, sighing.
“This is bad. I was really hoping to see who would come out on top between Linda and Ding Lan, but you’ve put all the pressure on me now.”
Sheng Jingchu looked at her, not quite understanding what she meant.
Cheng Liao let one leg dangle off the sofa, swinging it back and forth as she smiled mischievously, like a fox plotting to steal a chicken leg.
“Want to make a bet?” She hadn’t thought of a wager yet but quickly shared the content of the bet, “I bet our department’s star, Linda, will knock on your door tonight to confirm the interview time.”
Sheng Jingchu didn’t respond directly but followed her lead to discuss the interview, “I don’t understand your company’s arrangements, but I need to clarify something—I’m not accepting your company’s interview. I’m accepting yours.”
Cheng Liao sighed and laughed simultaneously, her left cheek dimple deepening.
Sheng Jingchu had never seen anyone blend two opposite emotions so seamlessly. Watching her, he found it a little amusing.
“Before you, the most important person I ever interviewed was our school’s logistics director. In the May issue of the school paper, I had an article titled Ten Questions for the Logistics Director—When Will the Odor Issue in the Girls’ Dormitory Bathrooms Be Solved?”
She paused, then continued, “What I mean is, I’m really grateful you trust me—I mean it. Look into my sincere eyes. But I’m also self-aware. Our company has a great platform, and our news coverage is top-notch. It’s just as good as what you see on TV. Our flagship program has racked up billions of views, and our online media platform is more in tune with young people’s lives. The interviews are flexible, and the style is relaxed. If my work gets snatched by someone else, and you cancel the company’s interview because of it, it wouldn’t be very smart of me, would it?”
She stood up, grabbing the bags of clothes and waving them at him. “Thanks for the clothes. I’ll wear them well.”
Sheng Jingchu called her back and handed her a bag of marshmallows. “For you.”
Cheng Liao accepted the marshmallows, feeling grateful that Sheng Jingchu had kept his promise, but still a bit irked by the implicit suggestion that she was being treated like a child. She couldn’t help but mutter, loud enough for Sheng Jingchu to hear, “I’m not a little kid.”
Just as she was speaking, Sheng Jingchu’s phone rang, and the screen briefly flashed. Cheng Liao caught a glimpse of the character for "Dad."
Wasn’t Sheng Jingchu supposed to be an orphan? Suddenly curious, she lingered and strained her ears to catch any details.
However, all she could hear from Sheng Jingchu were short responses like “Hmm,” “Okay,” and at most, “I’ve arrived.”
When the call ended, Sheng Jingchu noticed that Cheng Liao hadn’t left yet and was hanging onto the door frame like a koala.
Amused, he said, “So curious, yet you say you’re not a child.”
“I’m not that curious,” Cheng Liao retorted, pulling her head back. She walked a few steps before poking her head out again. “Who was that?”
He had intended to tell her but seeing her so eager, he decided to tease her instead.
“Take a guess.”
After putting away the clothes, Cheng Liao went to find Cao Xihe.
He was staying at the end of the ninth floor, and she could hear a ruckus inside even from the hallway.
It took a while of knocking before Cao Xihe finally opened the door.
The room was filled with smoke, and the sounds of people calling out “Two Bamboo” and “Three Characters” could be heard from inside.
Yawning and rubbing his eyes, Cao Xihe asked, “What’s up?”
Cheng Liao formally introduced her company, “Show Style, known as ‘Show Era’ in Chinese, with a registered capital of fifty million yuan. We recently secured overseas financing and are committed to becoming China’s leading online media platform.”
Cao Xihe waved his hand dismissively, “I don’t have money to invest. You should talk to my senior brother if you’re looking for investors.”
Cheng Liao quickly clarified, “What I mean is, our company is strong and produces excellent programs. Would you be willing to do an interview with me? While I may not have much experience, our school’s journalism program is ranked in the top five nationally, so you can trust my professional skills.”
It took a moment for Cao Xihe to catch on, and he scrutinized Cheng Liao up and down, thinking it over.
Among the many online media outlets, Cao Xihe particularly disliked Show Style. They were the ones who exposed his smoking, gambling, and drinking habits. The worst part was their occasional smear campaigns, even digging up stories from his childhood, like when he bought popsicles on credit.
After some thought, he eventually agreed.
“Fine, but you have to promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?” Cheng Liao asked.
“You know my junior sister, right?” He paused, leaving the rest unsaid, but his intentions were clear. “You have to promise not to clarify your relationship with my senior brother, at least during the competition.”
Ah, so he wanted her to maintain the misunderstanding with Ding Lan, giving him a chance with her. Cheng Liao gave him a reassuring look.
“Deal.”
Someone inside the room, growing impatient, called out, “Cao, hurry up! It’s your turn!”
Cao Xihe gave a quick shout back and then turned to Cheng Liao, “Let’s do the interview tomorrow. The press conference isn’t until the day after, so I have some free time to explore West Lake. Let’s meet at Su Causeway at 10 a.m. I have some errands to run in the morning, so I’ll head straight there.”
Cheng Liao wanted to do a casual, lifestyle-oriented interview, so the setting didn’t need to be too formal. Cao Xihe’s suggestion was perfect, and she immediately agreed.
Back in her room, Cheng Liao worked on her thesis, making several revisions based on her advisor’s feedback, before Yan Xiao invited her out for dinner.
Before leaving, Cheng Liao sent a WeChat message to Sheng Jingchu:
“Have you had dinner?”
He didn’t reply.
He was probably studying game records, she thought. Remembering Xiao Qi’s strict instructions not to disturb Sheng Jingchu while he was working, Cheng Liao decided not to knock on his door and went out with Yan Xiao to eat some steamed buns.
The restaurant was small, and the owner spoke rapid-fire Hangzhou dialect, which Cheng Liao couldn’t understand at all. Despite the proximity between Hangzhou and Xiaoshan, even their dialects were different.
Yan Xiao, with a conspiratorial tone, asked Cheng Liao, “Have you been to your boyfriend’s house yet?”
Cheng Liao was taken aback, “Who?”
Yan Xiao nudged her, “Sheng Jingchu, of course.”
Cheng Liao nearly choked on her soup, barely managing to suppress a cough as she clarified, “It’s not what you think.”
Yan Xiao gave her a knowing look but suddenly remembered something else.
“Have you heard? There’s going to be a shake-up in our company’s upper management. They’re bringing someone in from the top. I heard he’s a young, talented graduate from a prestigious school who likes classical music and red wine. Ever since Linda heard the news, she’s been studying up on wine.”
Cheng Liao was impressed. “Linda sure knows how to cover all her bases.”
Yan Xiao grinned, “It’s like playing the lottery—the more tickets you buy, the better your chances of winning.”
Meanwhile, Cheng Liao was carefully dissecting the flavors in the buns. To her taste, they were slightly too salty, seasoned with salt, sugar, oyster sauce, and soy sauce. She took another bite and detected a hint of peanut oil.
Her mind immediately started reconstructing the entire recipe. Once she was sure the proportions were right, she felt an itch to try making them herself.
That daydream was quickly interrupted by reality when Yan Xiao asked, “Who do you think will win this time?”
Cheng Liao pondered seriously, “It depends on a comprehensive analysis.”
“What’s there to analyze?” Yan Xiao scoffed. “It’ll either be Xie Hanzhou or Sheng Jingchu—who else? If you ask me, Xie Hanzhou is Sheng Jingchu’s teacher, and his Go skills are legendary. There was a time when Chinese Go players were crushed by the Japanese in international competitions. Then Old Xie came along and turned the tables on Japan’s dominance.”
She sighed with regret, “But Old Xie hasn’t had much luck. He missed the first Chess Sage competition due to illness, had to skip the second one because his wife was sick, and unfortunately lost to Jiang Chunlai in the third.”
“Timing and fate,” Yan Xiao sighed deeply. “That’s why all these Go players are so superstitious.”
"You probably don’t know this, but Jiang Chunlai always loses whenever his match falls on his birthday. Kato Kiyomasa can’t stand unfamiliar faces; whenever he plays against someone he doesn’t know, his performance plummets. Cao Xihe absolutely hates Mondays—if a match is on a Monday, he’s always off his game. Zhao Yanhun always has to wear a talisman when he plays. What about your guy? Any quirks?”
“My guy” is just fond of reading the Tao Te Ching. It makes sense, though—at the top levels of Go, where the players’ skills are almost evenly matched, maintaining the right mindset is crucial. Just like how Ximen Chuixue would bathe and wear white before a duel—what ordinary people call quirks, masters call rituals.
Cheng Liao ate until she was about 80% full and packed a portion to go before leaving.
When she got back, she lingered for a while outside Sheng Jingchu’s door. Seeing the “Do Not Disturb” sign, she figured he was probably busy and went back to her room.
To prepare for the next day’s interview, Cheng Liao drafted a few plans and was mulling over how to improve them when Xiao Qi called.
“Did Mr. Sheng eat dinner? His stomach isn’t very strong, so it’s best not to give him anything too hard at night.”
Cheng Liao stuck out her tongue—Sheng Jingchu hadn’t replied to her WeChat message and didn’t want to be disturbed, so he must have sorted out dinner on his own.
Xiao Qi kept rattling off instructions.
“Don’t forget to set the air conditioner to sleep mode. Last time in Korea, the AC was too cold, and Mr. Sheng caught a cold.”
After the call, Cheng Liao still felt uneasy, so she sent Sheng Jingchu a WeChat message:
“Have you gone to bed?”
Thinking it was impolite not to address him formally, she added “Mr. Sheng” in front.
This time, he replied:
“Not yet.”
Cheng Liao checked the time—it was 11 PM. According to the schedule Xiao Qi had provided, he should be asleep by now.
Unable to resist, she asked:
“Why aren’t you asleep yet?”
After a while, he replied:
“Waiting for your colleague.”
Curious, Cheng Liao sat up in bed and asked:
“Did she arrange to meet you?”
Sheng Jingchu replied:
“No.”
A moment later, he sent another message:
“You said she’d come tonight.”
“Pfft—”
Cheng Liao couldn’t help but laugh out loud. After thinking for a moment, she sent a voice message:
“According to Yan Xiao, Linda is busy trying to win over the heart of the new diamond-status executive.”
Two minutes later, he sent a voice message back, his breath audible as if he was too close to the microphone:
“She’s already here.”
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