Before she could react, Song Lang had already crouched down, picking up the pearls one by one. She crouched down as well. The elevator doors silently closed behind them and began descending again, but neither of them paid it any mind. They were entirely focused on retrieving the scattered pearls. Slowly, they managed to collect most of them, piecing the necklace back together—except for one elusive pearl that had rolled away, perhaps into the gap of the elevator shaft.
Ying Jun said, “Forget it. I’ll just go to the store later and get a replacement.”
He looked at her intently. In his eyes, she saw a tiny reflection of herself, a small and shadowy figure. It seemed as though he let out a faint sigh, barely audible. She wasn’t sure if she had misheard—Song Lang never sighed. In his world, life was always vibrant and full of brilliance, leaving no room for regret.
Holding the necklace with only its silver clasp remaining, she felt a wave of disappointment wash over her, as if she had been blindsided years ago when a once-loving relationship abruptly ended.
She couldn’t help but think back to her younger, more reckless self. A few years ago, fresh out of university, she had to learn everything from scratch. The pride of being a top student had long been worn away by the harsh realities of life. She found it exhausting. By the end of a project, she didn’t even need to diet—she’d already lost weight from overwork. Late at night, when she returned to her hotel room, she didn’t even have the energy to put on a face mask. She’d collapse onto the bed, her weary limbs and strained neck finally able to relax.
At that time, they rarely saw each other. She was working on a project in Chengdu, while Song Lang was interning in Hong Kong. Both were so busy that even finding time for a phone call was a luxury. On many nights, she would lie in bed, listening to his voice over the phone, and eventually fall asleep.
Both her body and mind had reached their limits. She could no longer tolerate any additional burdens, no matter how small. Even a minor argument was enough to make her sulk and say, “Let’s just break up.”
She clearly remembered the pause on the other end of the line. His voice, too, sounded utterly exhausted: “Then let’s break up.”
The elevator ascended once more, its ceiling casting a warm, pristine light that blended with the distant, shimmering sea of city lights. The glass-walled outdoor elevator resembled a massive, translucent crystal box, gliding upward into the night sky. His profile, illuminated in the soft glow, remained impossibly handsome.
Ying Jun thought back to when she and Song Lang had planned to honeymoon in Japan after getting married. As a child, she had watched countless Japanese dramas, imagining Japan as the epitome of romance. A year after their breakup, when she finally had time for a vacation, she went to Japan alone. Like many others, she stood atop the 333-meter Tokyo Tower, gazing at the deepening hues of the night.
Tokyo reminded her of Shanghai.
The same dazzling, flickering lights. The same bustling splendor.
But without him, even the most vibrant backdrop felt desolate.
* * *
The next day, in the office pantry, Vivian suddenly asked: “Senior Fang, is Song Lang one of our alumni?”
Ying Jun glanced at her junior colleague, who had only joined the company a year ago, and nodded with a faint smile. “Know your enemy as well as yourself.”
Vivian grinned knowingly: “And you’ll never lose a battle.”
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