Volume One, Chapter 87: Is This... Rekindling Old Feelings?

Ding dong!

Ding dong, ding dong!

“Coming…”

Half an hour ago, Lou Ye had already messaged to say he was on his way.

But now the noodles were about to get soggy, and he still hadn’t arrived.

Sang Wan called out, moving to open the door. “You’ve got the—”

Her words caught in her throat.

It wasn’t Lou Ye standing outside.

It was Lu Jinnian.

The button of his lead-grey suit was undone.

His tie hung loosely over his chest.

Lu Jinnian looked weary and travel-worn, and the disappointment in his eyes only deepened the sense of having suffered some great injustice.

“You—”

“Wanwan!”

As soon as the door opened, the familiar fragrance of noodle soup wafted out.

The gloom that had clouded Lu Jinnian’s face all day seemed to lift. “Wanwan, I knew you’d remember today is my birthday. I just knew it…”

Sang Wan was momentarily stunned.

Lu Jinnian had already strode inside.

Lou Ye, just stepping out of the elevator, paused as he saw Lu Jinnian’s back disappearing through the door, which closed behind him.

At the dining table, Lu Jinnian gazed at the longevity noodles laid out before him, his expression delighted. “Wanwan, you’ve been waiting a long time, haven’t you?”

The delicate chicken noodle soup was topped with slivers of chicken and crescent-shaped slices of greens at the rim of the bowl.

It looked as though it had been waiting so long, the noodles had clumped together a bit.

Chilled cucumber salad.

Spicy beef slices.

Vinegared wood ear mushrooms.

Tangy chicken gizzards.

Four small, brightly colored side dishes, each visually appetizing, their sweet and sour aromas whetting the appetite.

A day’s worth of neglect seemed to melt away in this moment.

Lu Jinnian reached for the chopsticks—

But Sang Wan stopped him.

“Lu Jinnian, I don’t know where you get the confidence to think that just because we’re divorced, your ex-wife would still remember your birthday and make you longevity noodles.”

“But let me make it clear for you: these weren’t made for you.”

She took the chopsticks from his hand and set them back on the table, then pointed toward the door. “Could you leave now?”

“If they’re not for me, then who are they for?” Lu Jinnian countered.

Sang Wan stayed silent.

Lu Jinnian took a step closer.

He was so near that if he lowered his head, his chin would brush her nose.

Sang Wan instinctively stepped back.

Lu Jinnian lowered his voice. “Wanwan, I know you’re still angry with me. I know I was wrong. We’re even now, aren’t we?”

“Wanwan, today’s my birthday. You used to say, ‘On your birthday, you’re the most important person in the world. No matter what, this day has to be happy.’”

“I’m not asking you to comfort me, but… please, don’t be mad at me anymore, all right?”

His voice was full of pleading humility.

Lu Jinnian looked at her with a pitiful gaze. “I’ll eat the noodles and then go, all right?”

Her phone chimed.

Sang Wan glanced down.

A message from Lou Ye.

[It’s over, isn’t it!]

Earlier, she’d sent him a picture of the dinner table.

She had no idea what had gotten into Lou Ye now.

She was lost in thought for a moment, and Lu Jinnian had already pulled out a chair and begun to eat.

The chicken noodle soup was still warm, richly fragrant.

The once springy noodles, now a little soft, slid down his throat, soothing all his restlessness.

All the fatigue and frustration of recent days seemed to dissolve in that bowl of noodles.

Lu Jinnian hadn’t finished his bowl before his phone started to ring.

A few friends on the other end were asking if he’d returned from his business trip and telling him they’d opened some wine to celebrate his birthday, asking when he’d join them.

It was as if everything was falling back into its usual rhythm.

“Okay, you all start without me… I’ll be there soon!”

He hung up and looked up at Sang Wan. “Wanwan, Lao Zhou and the others are asking me to go out for drinks.”

Sang Wan looked exasperated. “That’s none of my business… Can you go now?”

Lu Jinnian hurriedly finished the last of his noodles, then stood and walked over to her, reaching out to take her hand. “I brought you a gift. It’s in the trunk of my car. Come downstairs with me and get it, all right?”

It was a crocodile leather handbag he’d bought from a boutique in Toronto.

Lin Zhaozhao had sent him black and white photos, asking which color would suit her better.

He’d said white.

But when he saw the black one in person, Sang Wan immediately came to mind.

He’d gone to great trouble to get both colors.

Lu Jinnian had decided to let Sang Wan choose whichever color she liked.

The other one, he’d say, was for Lu Zhiyi.

If Sang Wan wanted both, then…

“No, thank you!”

Sang Wan’s refusal cut off his fantasy. “Lu Jinnian, we were once husband and wife, and we should part on good terms. Let’s call this meal the farewell dinner we never had. From now on, please don’t come to my home and pester me again!”

She picked up 2S, opened the door, and gestured, “Please leave…”

Lu Jinnian wasn’t the least bit angry.

He understood Sang Wan.

She was proud and strong-willed, with a particularly high sense of self-respect.

They’d grown up together, from childhood friends all the way to husband and wife, sharing countless tender moments.

But in the past six months, he’d hurt her deeply.

That she still remembered his birthday and went to the trouble of making him longevity noodles was already the biggest olive branch she could offer.

Expecting her to call him “husband” again, to fuss over him driving carefully and drinking less, as she once did?

Impossible.

At least, not now.

“Alright,” Lu Jinnian said to himself. “I’ll have the driver bring your gift up, then.”

“Lu Jinnian, don’t you understand plain language?” Sang Wan snapped.

His phone rang relentlessly.

Passing by the door, he even reached out to touch her face, wanting to kiss her goodbye as he used to.

Sang Wan recoiled in disgust.

The cat in her arms, 2S, bristled and hissed.

Lu Jinnian awkwardly withdrew his hand, answered his phone, and strode away.

Bang!

The door shut, leaving the apartment in silence.

She stroked 2S’s fur and set him down, then approached the table with a stony expression.

Each of the dishes had been tasted, except for the other bowl of noodles, which was untouched.

But Sang Wan no longer felt like eating. She took the food to the kitchen and dumped it in the trash.

On the twentieth floor, Lou Ye stood by the window, his face shadowed in darkness.

Nineteen minutes had passed, and the chat window remained empty.

Had Lu Jinnian not left yet?

Or was Sang Wan too busy to reply?

His mind was full of images of Sang Wan and Lu Jinnian sitting at the table, Lu Jinnian eating noodles with 2S at his feet, Sang Wan right beside them, smiling and laughing.

Lou Ye regretted it.

He should have followed Lu Jinnian in the moment he entered.

Used facial recognition to open the door.

Sat down at the table in front of Lu Jinnian and started eating.

Used his actions to tell Lu Jinnian:

That table of food was his.

That cat was his.

The woman who prepared it all—hers, too.

But a moment’s hesitation had cost him the perfect opportunity.

He could only watch as Lu Jinnian ate noodles that should have been his, played with his cat, and joked with his woman.

Minute after minute passed, and Lou Ye couldn’t sit still any longer.

He couldn’t even wait for the elevator—he took the stairs straight down to the nineteenth floor.

Ding dong!

Ding dong, ding dong!

The doorbell rang for a long time, but no one answered.

His mind was a chaotic mess.

The keypad was only twenty centimeters away.

He knew the code.

His fingerprint was registered.

His face had been scanned.

If he wished, he could open that door at any moment.

But—

Ring ring!

His phone suddenly blared, and Lou Ye felt as if he’d been caught red-handed.

He stepped aside.

As he reached the elevator, the doors opened. A man in a black suit and white gloves was holding two Hermès gift boxes, heading straight for Sang Wan’s door.

The doorbell rang again. After a brief pause, the door opened.

Face clouded as dark as the night outside, Lou Ye walked into the elevator.

A few minutes later, he watched the driver come out empty-handed.

He watched as the black Mercedes drove out of view.

Lou Ye looked up at the soft amber glow in the nineteenth-floor bedroom window, his face so dark it seemed to drip with anger.

What was this supposed to mean?

Were they… rekindling old flames?