“Mai-jie, Mai-jie, my dearest, kindest, most perfect Mai-jie, oh, come on, don’t walk away,” Qian Dailan put down her plastic bowl of spicy potato noodles and ran after Mai-jie, coaxing her.
“I’m going to Beijing, but I’m not gone forever. If I don’t do well, I might have to come crawling back, begging you for a job and a meal.
But if—just saying—if I really hit it big, I’ll buy you that amazing eye cream you liked last time—no, something even better! The trendiest clothes! Mai-jie, Mai-jie—”
“Stop calling me. I’m not promising anything.”
…
That night, at home, with the fan spinning overhead, Mai-jie held her phone and laughed.
“Yes, yes, I know your place has requirements, but this girl is sharp. And she’s pretty, I guarantee you haven’t seen a girl more striking or outstanding—remember last year when you came over?
You even said she looked like a celebrity! Yes, that one! Do you remember now? Right, the girl who bought me that Dior eye cream—yeah, the one that cost 440 yuan!
She went to Beijing and got it for me. Such a good, thoughtful girl, right? Willing to spend that much on me.”
Mai-jie glanced at the small bottle on her table, still reluctant to use it.
She had been applying just a thin layer each time, and even after a year, there was still some left.
“She just turned eighteen. Yeah, her education doesn’t meet the requirements, that’s true. But she speaks fluent English. I’m not making this up,” she said, lowering the TV volume with the remote in her other hand.
“Last time we went to Guangzhou for stock, we ran into some foreigners speaking gibberish, and this girl just stepped up and gave them directions—self-taught, from books and MP3s! You tell me, where else will you find someone like her?”
The TV played at a whisper.
“A falling star… Take me with you…!”
“Alright, alright, deal, haha,” Mai-jie said.
“Come on, would I lie to you? Just take a look at her first. If she’s a good fit, keep her. If not, send her back. The kid’s got ambition.
I can’t let her stay stuck in this little wholesale market forever, can I? Good, alright, done.”
She hung up the phone.
Mai-jie shifted her feet and realized the foot soak water had turned cold.
She stood up from the basin, bent down to grab a cup from the table, and took a big gulp.
“I’ve done all I can,” she muttered.
“The rest is up to fate.”
Qian Dailan’s fate turned out pretty well.
It just so happened that Mai-jie’s cousin, Mai Yi, was a store manager at a chain fashion brand in a Beijing mall.
One of her sales assistants had quit unexpectedly, and she was looking for a replacement.
This brand was considered top-tier in China, and they required at least a college degree for sales assistants—so technically, Qian Dailan didn’t qualify at all.
But with Mai-jie’s recommendation and her striking looks, she left a strong impression.
For women’s fashion sales, especially in high-end stores, appearance and height mattered.
And since the previous employee had left so suddenly, Mai Yi had already interviewed several candidates without finding the right fit.
So, she agreed to let Qian Dailan start as an intern, partly as a favor to her cousin.
September 1st.
Qian Dailan packed her suitcase, ate dumplings with her parents, and bought train tickets: one from Tieling to Shenyang, and another from Shenyang to Beijing.
This time, her suitcase was packed full—
Two sets of underwear, two sets of sportswear, a light down jacket, a pair of sneakers, a few black hair ties, an old MP3 player, a ballpoint pen worn down to the plastic, a blank notebook, and four tattered volumes of New Concept English covered in notes.
And 2,300 yuan in her wallet.
With her suitcase in hand, Qian Dailan marched onto the train to Beijing, full of determination.
Unfortunately, things didn’t start off smoothly.
The person who was supposed to pick her up, Ye Xijing, flaked on her. Again.
“Sorry, Dailan Xiaomei,” Ye Xijing said over the phone.
“My friend has a fever, and I’m at the hospital with her. I can’t come pick you up today… But I called Yang Quan—remember him?
You met him at dinner last year. Tall, skinny, very fair-skinned, wears glasses—my brother’s secretary.”
“I remember,” Qian Dailan said.
Working in sales had sharpened her memory.
She never forgot a customer’s face.
“Yeah,” Ye Xijing said, tilting her head to hold the phone between her ear and shoulder as she carefully peeled an apple for the girl in the hospital bed.
Her voice was gentle as she told Qian Dailan, “He’ll come pick you up.”
“Alright,” Qian Dailan replied.
Ye Xijing had already arranged everything for her—right now, he was living with Ye Xiyan.
Ye Xiyan had recently moved into a new, spacious apartment, and there happened to be a guest bedroom just perfect for Qian Dailan.
For the next few days, she could stay there until she found a suitable place to move into.
This was something Qian Dailan had insisted on.
After getting off the train, she hadn’t walked far before Yang Quan called out to her.
He greeted her warmly, took her suitcase, and smiled as he explained that, per Ye Xiyan’s instructions, he would first take her out for dinner and then escort her to Ye Xiyan’s home.
“I’m really sorry,” Qian Dailan bowed slightly, “for troubling you to come pick me up—did I cause any inconvenience for Brother Xiyan?”
“No, no, not at all. No need to be so formal,” Yang Quan replied.
“Mr. Ye has a dinner meeting tonight and probably won’t be done until around nine or ten. He won’t be needing me for now. You can rest when you get back; there’s no need to wait for them.”
“Wouldn’t that be impolite?” Qian Dailan asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” Yang Quan reassured her.
“Mr. Ye actually thinks it’s already impolite that he couldn’t personally greet you tonight. He said he’ll make it up to you with a proper welcome dinner tomorrow.”
It was still hot in early September.
After having dinner at a restaurant, Yang Quan took Qian Dailan to Ye Xiyan’s home.
His apartment was near Yuyuantan Park.
Standing in the living room, she could see the Central TV Tower in the distance through the large floor-to-ceiling windows.
From the moment she changed into indoor slippers at the entrance, she felt an odd sense of restraint.
She curiously examined the smart lock on the door, then glanced at Yang Quan—who made no move to enter.
“Mr. Ye doesn’t like people coming into his home,” Yang Quan explained.
“I’ll leave you here. Inside, take a right—the first and third rooms are guest bedrooms. You can choose whichever one you like.”
Qian Dailan bowed again, repeatedly thanking him.
As soon as the door closed, the entire spacious apartment fell silent.
She cautiously looked around, finding everything new and unfamiliar, yet she was careful not to touch anything.
The house was vast and empty; the walls were adorned with a few calligraphy pieces but no paintings, no cross-stitch art, not even a clock.
She took a few steps, but something in her slipper poked at her foot.
Reaching down, she pulled out a small tag—a black circular piece with embossed lettering that read: “HERMES HERMES.”
It must be a brand name, but she didn’t recognize it.
She had never seen it at Thirteen Factories or Shenzhen, so it was probably some niche brand that specialized in slippers.
Sigh…
She realized that, in her nervousness, she had forgotten something important.
Which two rooms did Yang Quan say were the guest bedrooms?
No big deal.
She could figure it out.
She didn’t dare drag her suitcase inside, worried that its rough wheels might scratch the pristine wooden floor.
After some thought, she carefully lifted the suitcase by its handle and strained to carry it as she opened the first door—
Soft pink bedding, a bright room, and a beautiful vase on the desk holding a fragrant bouquet of pastel pink and lilac flowers.
She opened the second door.
Muted blue-gray bedding, an empty desk, nothing else.
Then the third.
The same muted blue-gray bedding, another empty desk.
Got it.
Qian Dailan understood now.
The second and third rooms were identical—clearly, those were the guest rooms!
I’m so smart.
She silently praised herself, then confidently carried her suitcase into the second bedroom.
She thought she had solved the easiest logic puzzle ever and saw no need to observe any further detail
She had been overly cautious, intimidated by Yang Quan’s words, and didn’t dare to touch things unnecessarily.
She didn’t open the walnut wardrobe in the room—
Otherwise, had she gripped that golden handle and pulled it open, she would have discovered a neat row of silk pajamas in shades of black, white, gray, pale blue, mint green, and soft pink.
All belonging to Ye Xiyan.
But unfortunately, she was just too careful.