Tomorrow Will Still Love You - Chapter 13:

Helplessly, Pei Ning rested her bag on her knees and opened the small velvet pouch.

She slipped the silver cufflinks onto Ye Xicheng’s sleeves, one by one.

When she finished one cuff, he casually shifted his other arm onto her bag.

Pei Ning glanced up he wasn’t looking at her, eyes fixed on his phone,

as if her fingers weren’t brushing against his wrist at all.

On the plane, she stifled a yawn. He handed her a fresh eye mask and earplugs.

Sleep for a bit, he said.

You don’t need them?

I have work to do.

He opened his laptop, and Pei Ning stopped talking.

She lay back and pretended to sleep, but her thoughts wouldn’t settle.

No matter how tightly she closed her eyes, her mind wandered to him, always to him.

By the time they landed in Hong Kong, she hadn’t slept a minute.

A car took them straight to the hotel. Pei Ning was supposed to check them in herself,

but Ye Xicheng followed her out of the car.

You don’t need to come down, she murmured.

He just looked at her without replying.

The secretary had booked two suites. When the front desk handed over the keys,

Pei Ning whispered, Why did they get me a suite too?

The secretary booked it, he said simply.

He took both ID cards and room keys, then handed one key and both IDs back to her.

Keep these safe. We’ll need them to check in later.

Her wallet now carried his ID and bank card. Her bag held his cufflinks and his phone.

He noticed her exhaustion. Don’t go out tonight. I’ll order food here. What do you want to eat?

Something with soup, she said. Maybe noodles.

That was all she wanted on her birthday something warm and simple.

The cake from last night counted as her celebration already.

He nodded, curious. She’d never liked noodles as a kid, but he didn’t ask more.

Their rooms were on the same floor. She returned his phone and went her way.

It wasn’t until she reached her room that she realized

she was supposed to be the one ordering food for him. Some assistant she was.

She texted him: What would you like for dinner, Mr. Ye? I’ll order.

He replied quickly: Already done.

He set the phone aside and went to shower.

Ten minutes later, someone knocked.

He didn’t hear it at first until the water stopped. That was fast,

he thought, grabbing a towel as he went to open the door.

And froze.

Standing outside was Xiang Yilin, holding a box of flowers in one hand and a cake in the other.

Xiang Yilin froze too. His eyes darted to Ye Xicheng, who stood there in a bathrobe,

hair dripping, skin damp with steam.

Sorry, wrong room, he said coolly.

You didn’t, Ye Xicheng replied evenly. This was Pei Ning’s room.

But I’m staying here. She’s in mine.

The air turned razor-sharp.

Understanding dawned on Xiang Yilin’s face. The room cards must’ve been swapped.

He’d managed to find her hotel only because he remembered

her ID number and pulled some strings under the guise of sending a birthday surprise.

Now, staring at Ye Xicheng in her doorway,

he realized he wouldn’t get her room number out of anyone.

Ye Xicheng’s tone stayed polite.

You can leave it. I’ll give it to her.

Xiang Yilin smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

Then I’ll trouble you with it, Mr. Ye.

Likewise.

Their civility was made of glass thin, dangerous, and ready to shatter.

After Xiang Yilin left, Ye Xicheng placed the flowers and cake by the door,

called the restaurant, and ordered another dessert fruit cake this time.

Then he lit a cigarette, stood by the bathroom mirror for a while, and called Pei Ning.

Are you free now? Come to my room.

Okay, she said.

She’d already changed into pajamas, thinking the night was over.

Now she had to start over hair tied, clothes neat again.

When she knocked, he was already dressed in shirt and slacks.

He shut the door behind her and stared at her too long for comfort.

She turned away then saw it.

Flowers. Cake.

Her pulse skipped.

He finally spoke. From now on, stop calling me Mr. Ye—at least outside the office.

She turned back, meeting his eyes for a few seconds before looking away again.

He let it drop and pointed at the gifts. That’s from Xiang Yilin.

She froze.

He just left, Ye Xicheng added.

How… how did it end up in your room? Her voice trembled slightly.

This suite was booked under your ID. He handed her a glass of warm water. Sit.

She sat, though her mind spun wildly.

He changed the subject. Today’s your lunar birthday?

She nodded. When they were together, he’d only ever remembered her solar one.

Silence filled the room again thick and awkward.

A knock came just then; room service arrived.

Dinner was simple. He had a light meal; hers was soup noodles,

two small sides, and a slice of cake.

She finished the noodles, barely touched the cake.

Not eating the rest? he asked.

I’m full.

He picked up her fork and took a bite himself.

Hey that’s mine, she protested weakly, reaching for the plate. But he was faster.

He ate quietly for a moment, then paused, voice low. Sorry.

I shouldn’t have brought you here.

He hadn’t expected Xiang Yilin to show up or that he still hadn’t let go.

It’s fine, she said softly. You couldn’t have known.

He finished the cake and leaned back. Tomorrow night’s banquet I’ll go alone.

You can take the day off, maybe do some shopping.

She hesitated. Wouldn’t that affect your work?

No.

For the first time, she let her emotions override professionalism.

Fine then, I’ll stay here and handle the project updates.

He nodded. Do as you wish.

When she stood to leave, he didn’t stop her. Take your things, he reminded her,

glancing at the flowers and cake.

She picked them up and went straight to the front desk, handing both to the staff to throw away.

For a long time, she stood outside the hotel, staring at the glittering streets.

She typed I’m sorry into a message then deleted it.

If she apologized, would it sound like she was apologizing for Xiang Yilin too?

She almost called him. Almost. Then stopped.

He was here with his wife, after all.

There was nothing left to say.

The next afternoon, Ye Xicheng attended the banquet alone.

Unexpectedly, Xiang Yilin showed up as well.

They met by the bar.

Xiang Yilin raised his glass. Thanks for last night.

Ye Xicheng’s reply was mild. No trouble at all.

They both drank.

Someone nearby laughed. You two seem close.

Ye Xicheng smiled. Mr. Xiang got lost. I just gave him directions.

The others laughed, not catching the edge in his voice.

Later, in the smoking area, the two men found themselves side by side, only a meter apart.

Neither spoke.

The air between them smelled of smoke and rivalry.

When Ye Xicheng finally stubbed out his cigarette and left, Xiang Yilin lit another.

By the third day in Hong Kong, business was done. Their flight landed in Beijing after dark.

In the car, Pei Ning was typing emails, completely absorbed. Ye Xicheng kept glancing at her.

What do you want for dinner? he asked.

I’ll cook some porridge at home. Too much rich food these days.

He hummed softly, letting it go.

The driver dropped them off at her apartment complex.

Inside another car parked nearby, Xiang Yilin sat surrounded by smoke.

Half a pack gone. He’d come here on impulse, telling himself he just wanted to see her once.

When Ye Xicheng’s car pulled up, he straightened immediately.

Pei Ning got out. Ye Xicheng wanted to carry her luggage, but she refused. I’ve got it.

Tomorrow’s the weekend, he said. Don’t go to the office.

Got it. I’ll send the report tonight.

He nodded, then left.

But halfway down the street, he told the driver to stop. Reverse.

At the same moment, Xiang Yilin rolled down his window.

Pei Ning was just about to swipe her keycard when both voices called out at once.

Ning Ning.

The same name, two men, one heartbeat apart,

and the night went utterly still.