Above the Fates - Chapter 1

Ming Yu looked up and saw several wine-red letters outside the club: FATES—matte finish, simple font, standing out with an arrogant understatement against the backdrop of desperately dazzling neon signs nearby.

FATES looked down on all beings.

Arrogant, Ming Yu thought, a faint smile touching her lips. She often wondered how arrogant those three women must have been forty years ago to come up with this company name. They saw themselves as the three goddesses of destiny.

In reality, you, me, she—we are all just ordinary ants, and the things that seem earth-shattering in our own eyes are merely specks of dust in the vastness of the world. This was the worldview Ming Yu had privately brewed over ten years rooted in the international dispatch industry. The world was changing, and her worldview was still fermenting.

C City, USA, was the global headquarters of FATES. The international dispatch industry was a young sector born in the seventies alongside economic globalization. Simply put, it helped multinational corporations relocate talent across regions and borders, encompassing a series of service modules including human resources, logistics, financial consulting, immigration law, and even real estate.

FATES was practically a monopolistic giant in this young industry, and Ming Yu was an indispensable braking mechanism on this colossal aircraft carrier.

Two hours earlier, at four in the afternoon Central Time, Ming Yu was at home in a simple robe, waiting for her gown.

Her phone rang. The caller ID showed Cassie, a sales associate from PR. Salespeople for niche, top-tier luxury brands cultivated an air of composure and polished, elite phrasing to deal with knowledgeable wealthy clients, unlike the often inexperienced sales staff at brands like G or L.

“Ming, dear, I hope everything is going smoothly apart from waiting for the dress. Patrick will be at your door any moment now, please rest assured.”

Ming Yu hadn’t taken an English name. In the US, her name was written as Ming Yu according to diplomatic naming conventions, not Yu Ming. Ming Yu was Ming Yu, why should she follow the American way and reverse it? Americans couldn’t pronounce Yu; they said Yiu or You, and assumed it was her last name. That was fine, actually. Ming Yu preferred being called Ming.

Cassie had been handling Ming Yu’s purchases for nine years; they were quite familiar.

“Cassie, I have one hour left to get changed.”

“That’s plenty of time, dear. The dress is tailored exactly to your measurements, no need to worry. However, I had Patrick bring a red one as well, slightly different style, size 2. Please forgive my presumption, I just wanted to offer another option. More choices are never a bad thing, I think.”

Red? Was she crazy? Ming Yu shook her head. “I’ll take a look, thank you.”

“Also, I had Patrick bring a pantsuit set. You know PR rarely makes pantsuits, this is a treasure. I fell in love with it at first sight. It’s your size. Try it on when you have time. If you don’t like it, just call me, and I’ll come pick it up.”

“I’ll look at it later,” she said, halfway through her sentence, the doorbell rang. “He’s here. Talk later.”

The red dress resembled some kind of tempting, semi-liquid dessert—eye-catching enough, but not Ming Yu’s style. The custom black evening gown was naturally kept, as was the pantsuit. Only very familiar clients could get their hands on such new items.

Now, she stood at the entrance of the club, looking up at the temporarily erected company logo. FATES was hosting a cocktail party here tonight, and she was the host.

As the Sales Director for North America and Asia, Ming Yu had organized this reception to thank clients and provide an excellent opportunity for networking. FATES’ first point of contact with clients was always the HR department, which outsourced personnel relocation tasks to FATES. Deeper engagement required reaching other C-level executives. The guests invited tonight were all from highly influential multinational groups.

Seven steps covered in red carpet led up to the club entrance. With each step she took, various parts of Ming Yu’s face instinctively adjusted. By the time she reached the top, her face bore a delicate, professional smile—a smile that required precise calibration. A fraction more would seem forced; a fraction less would lack sincerity.

Her executive assistant was inside, checking the floral arrangements. Seeing Ming Yu walk in, she exclaimed, “Ming, you look radiant tonight!”

“Thank you, Ashley. You look fantastic too! I love your…” Her appreciative gaze swept over Ashley’s outfit. “Shoes.” This was the customary flattery among American women, heard practically from the cradle, spoken as naturally as breathing—a slight movement of the lips, a flick of the tongue, a sparkle in the eyes, and it was done.

Ashley blushed, believing her words.

Ming Yu opened her clutch and took out a small box—chocolates bearing the PR logo, the ones Patrick had just brought. She handed the box to Ashley. “Have some energy. Food won’t be served for a little while.”

Ashley accepted the chocolates. “Oh my Gosh…” Before she could finish her thanks, Ming Yu had already drifted away.

Ming Yu had attended banquets at this club many times. Tonight’s captain was Roger, whom Ming Yu trusted completely. Receptions managed by Roger usually concluded perfectly; his bartenders were also top-notch. The two stood by the bar, chatting, each following the pattern of appropriate pleasantries, a pattern that worked unfailingly in formal settings.

Roger went off to continue his preparations. Ming Yu walked around the venue. It was almost six o’clock; the first guests would arrive soon. She circled around to the back kitchen and caught Roger’s bartender. “Hey, Nick, I was wondering, could I get a ‘Sanibel’s Sunset’ first?”

This was her favorite cocktail. Before every major event, she would have a small glass to dissipate the outermost layer of unnecessary restraint and formality.

Guests began to arrive, and Ming Yu circulated, holding a glass of red wine.

“Katie! Hi! You’re back from Colombia? How was the weather there?”

“Victor, you probably won’t believe this, but one of my new clients is also a member of the Lakeside Flying Club. He’s a fan of the Piper M500…”

“Laura, I’ll introduce you to a friend later. That plot of land west of the city, yes, Zone Z, they developed it. I think you should meet him. By the way, you must tell me your lipstick shade later, it’s simply gorgeous~”

…

The people from “White Whale” arrived at half-past six. Being half an hour late was nothing; their presence itself was a credit to Ming Yu.

Leading the group was Michelle, White Whale’s C City HR VP. Beside her was Brian, the VP of Legal Affairs. Behind them were two Asian women, one with hair like satin falling to her waist, walking over with a smile.

The woman looked to be only twenty-five or twenty-six. Her earrings, dress, clutch, shoes… all were highly recognizable classic pieces. Ming Yu noted this, her brow furrowing slightly. The other Asian woman was only glimpsed as she entered; her face was now obscured by the long-haired one. Ming Yu could only see that her hair was about the same length as her own, perhaps a bit shorter, between her shoulders and neck. That wasn’t the issue; the key point was her business suit. The invitation Ashley had sent out clearly specified the dress code: evening gown.

Just as Ming Yu was thinking how unprofessional White Whale was being this time, Michelle spotted her, her eyes crinkling with a smile. She came over and gave Ming Yu a warm hug, her fluffy blonde hair brushing against Ming Yu’s face. “Ming, my dear, you look wonderful! Let me introduce two colleagues,” Michelle said, turning sideways, then suddenly remembering Brian, she waved her hand humorously, “Uh! Brian here needs no introduction from me, you see, I almost forgot him!”

Ming Yu smiled back and shook Brian’s hand. “Thank you for coming, Brian. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

“Ming, please forgive Lynn,” Michelle said, bringing forward the last Asian woman. “Lynn just flew in from the San Francisco headquarters this afternoon for business. I brought her along on the spur of the moment, so she didn’t have time to prepare an evening gown. Lynn, this is the fate of FATES: Ming Yu!”

Everyone laughed at the introduction. Ming Yu gave Michelle an appreciative glance.

“Pleased to meet you,” Lynn extended her hand. “Miss Ming.” She spoke the last two words in standard Mandarin.

Ming Yu accepted her business card. It was a plain white card, lacking not only a title but even the company name. Her name, however, was bilingual: Lynn Chin, and below it: 陳西林. The Chinese characters were simplified. Further down was a phone number, finally giving the card some semblance of value.

“Miss Chen, it’s a pleasure to meet you too. Please don’t worry about the attire,” Ming Yu replied with a smile, handing over her own card.

Chen Xilin nodded with a slight smile. She didn’t say much.

“Ming, this is Jessica Chiang, just promoted to User Experience Manager in the design department,” Michelle introduced the long-haired woman.

“Hello, Jessica, congratulations,” Ming Yu said, also handing her a card. “You know, getting promoted at White Whale means you must be outstanding.” As she spoke, she glanced down at the card Jessica offered: Jessica Chiang. 江若景.

Since when did White Whale print bilingual cards for all its bilingual employees? Ming Yu wondered.

“Jessica truly deserves it. You can’t imagine how hard she works. By the way, Ming, Jessica might become your next client. She’s being dispatched back to China soon,” Michelle announced.

Ming Yu’s smile imperceptibly tightened. She turned to look at Jessica, casually raising one eyebrow. “This is White Whale C City’s loss.”

Jessica smiled slightly. “You flatter me.”

“I will ensure the FATES team takes good care of Miss Jessica’s relocation.”

By eight-thirty, some guests had begun to leave. Ming Yu seized a moment of leisure, grabbed her coat, and went to the rooftop terrace for some solitude.

In early September C City, the nights were starting to turn cool. Ming Yu gazed at the tiered skyline shrouded in mist, then at the nearby river reflecting the neon lights and the damp streets below. At this hour, the office workers had long since departed. Small groups occasionally emerged from high-end restaurants, mostly still in work attire, having just concluded a small-scale business dinner. People on dates rarely frequented this block; they preferred the bars and residential areas four or five blocks away.

Ming Yu lit a cigarette, leaning her arms on the terrace railing.

Suddenly, she was embraced from behind. Ming Yu’s body tensed for a moment, then relaxed. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t find you, figured I’d find you here.”

“I meant, why did you come to this party?”

“Does Director Ming feel that I’m not even qualified to attend your party?”

Ming Yu instinctively wanted to deny it, but then reconsidered. It seemed that was indeed her meaning; this party was for high-level executives from major corporations.

“Heh,” the woman chuckled behind her, holding her tighter. “Yu, I’m leaving.”