The Person I Love Who Has Been Missing For Three Years - Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Please don’t abandon me, okay?

At the M Club, neon lights flashed in sync with the music’s rhythm, and men and women danced vigorously on the floor.

Cao Xin navigated through the crowd, apologizing and saying “excuse me” along the way.

She was all smiles, chatting with the handsome men and beautiful women around her, casually holding a glass of wine. Her elbow rested on her knee, her long dress was elegant, and her posture composed.

A platinum, diamond-encrusted ring adorned her index finger, and a bracelet slid down her wrist, highlighting her fair skin.

Her eyes, full of speaking light, smiled happily but without being boisterously loud—maintaining grace and elegance.

“You’re here.” Jiang Lin nodded, gesturing towards a corner spot. “She’s asleep over there. I told you it was fine, you didn’t need to come. I was going to take her home later.”

Jiang Lin, a heavyweight in the variety show host world with a “Big Sister” persona, was considered a senior in the industry.

“No need to trouble Sister Lin, I’ll take her back,” Cao Xin replied.

“Sit down first,” Jiang Lin said, pointing to the seat beside her with a smile. “These are all people in the circle. You don’t get many chances to meet them.”

Cao Xin glanced at Song Xiangwan. She was completely drunk, her face flushed red, slumped on the sofa, covered with a knit jacket that likely belonged to Jiang Lin, as it matched her outfit best.

Song Xiangwan was sleeping soundly, so waiting a little wouldn’t hurt. Since she had been invited, refusing now would be awkward.

Cao Xin sat down at Jiang Lin’s invitation.

Jiang Lin began introducing the people around them.

“I probably don’t need to introduce Director Cheng and Director Yang, they are big seniors in the circle.”

“This is Screenwriter Jun Qing, Producer Lu Li, and Host Cai Cai…”

“Pei Qing and Lü Yicheng are both nineteen, newcomers who just debuted.”

Finally, she turned to Cao Xin: “This is Xiangwan’s manager, Cao Xin. A gold-medal manager at Rongxing. Her future is limitless.”

“Sister Lin flatters me. Hello, everyone.” Cao Xin took the wine glass offered by Jiang Lin and raised it. “I’d like to toast everyone.”

Everyone present was well-known in the industry; maintaining connections was an essential part of a manager’s professional skill set.

“Xiao Lü, go accompany Sister Cao for a couple of drinks,” Jiang Lin nudged the young man beside her.

The young man had light brown, curly hair, wore a clean sea-blue shirt, and smiled with dimples and pronounced canine teeth, radiating sunshine. He was the “puppy boy” type in the entertainment circle.

“Sister Cao,” the young man responded, walking over and sitting close to Cao Xin. He picked up the wine bottle and poured a glass for her.

He was sitting too close. Cao Xin could smell his meticulously chosen citrus-scented cologne, which made him seem even more cheerful.

He was so close that his hand was nearly resting on Cao Xin’s waist.

Cao Xin smiled as she accepted the drink, subtly shifting away.

“To toast a senior, custom dictates drinking three glasses first,” the young man said, grabbing the wine bottle and pouring three full glasses for himself.

“Xiao Lü knows the rules,” Jiang Lin said, smiling.

“Three glasses, you have to drink them down in one go.”

“Right, right, fill them up! See, the cup is still empty. Xiao Lü, your sincerity isn’t enough.”

Amidst the playful goading, Lü Yicheng quickly filled all three glasses: “Alright, alright, I’ll show you my sincerity.”

With a clean-cut face and rolled-up sleeves revealing well-defined arm muscles, he clearly had a good physique—likely with abs.

He was tactful and knew how to play the game—a personality designed to thrive in the entertainment world.

“Sister Cao, what do you think of this young man?” Jiang Lin asked, smiling and sounding casual, as she swirled the wine glass in her hand, the liquid catching the light.

“He’s very good,” Cao Xin replied with a smile.

“Hear that? Sister Cao is praising you,” Jiang Lin teased.

“Thank you, Sister Cao,” he laughed heartily, revealing his dimples and canine teeth, full of youthful energy.

“Then you accompany Sister Cao to drink tonight. Make sure she’s comfortable,” Jiang Lin said, her tone a bit languid, looking at him with a half-smile. “Your ‘Jie-jie’ (Sister) is giving you a chance. Take it.”

“Thank you, Sister Lin.” He raised his glass and downed another one.

Cao Xin couldn’t help but slightly frown and softly said, “Don’t drink like that, it’s bad for your stomach.”

“It’s fine. It’s my honor that the sisters are willing to drink with me,” he said with a look of indifference.

Cao Xin sighed lightly in resignation. Kids in the spotlight grew up fast and knew exactly what to say.

Jiang Lin, however… Cao Xin’s gaze fell on the person in the center seat. Outside, she played the role of a ‘Big Sister’ confidante, claiming a strict upbringing, a respectable family background, and a curfew, never acting out… She certainly didn’t seem like that tonight.

“Sister Cao, do you really think I’m quite good?” the young man asked, looking at her expectantly.

“Very good,” Cao Xin acknowledged.

The question seemed to be a repetition, but after the first one, it took on a different meaning. He seemed a little embarrassed and added, “Sister Cao, I’m new to this circle and there’s a lot I don’t understand. I hope you can help me out. I heard that Rongxing… only has Sister Wan as an artist right now?”

“That’s right,” Cao Xin nodded.

“What do you think of me, Sister Cao?” This question, though seemingly repetitive, was clearly different from the first.

“Rongxing is not considering signing new artists for the time being,” Cao Xin shook her head.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. Just remember me in the future, Sister,” he said, not discouraged.

The sudden burst of activity from the long-dormant Rongxing, immediately landing several major projects for Song Xiangwan, instantly made the circle realize that Rongxing was a powerhouse.

Cao Xin, too, successfully became a person to court.

But Cao Xin felt a bit uncomfortable. Those young men were so obviously eager, practically wearing their intentions on their faces. After a few drinks, she found an excuse and took Song Xiangwan out.

She had the company car, so there was no need for the hassle of calling a cab.

Cao Xin half-carried, half-supported Song Xiangwan into the car and fastened her seatbelt.

But Song Xiangwan stopped the seatbelt with her hand: “No, I’m not leaving. I want to keep drinking.”

With that, Song Xiangwan tried to step out. Luckily, Cao Xin was quick and held her down: “No more drinking. The party’s over.”

“No…” Song Xiangwan was stubborn, her tone hinting at slight displeasure.

She was clearly drunk, judging by the change in her voice.

“You can’t do this…” she muttered, still trying to undo the seatbelt. Fortunately, she was too drunk to unbuckle it, only managing to squirm a few times.

“Of course, I have to manage you. I’m your manager. If I don’t, who will?” Cao Xin was helpless.

In the two years she had been with Song Xiangwan, this wasn’t the first time she’d picked her up from a bar, but it was the first time Song Xiangwan was absolutely wasted.

“Don’t manage me. I don’t like people managing me…”

She stopped struggling, merely whispering.

“Why are you managing me?”

“She doesn’t even manage me anymore…”

Cao Xin paused, startled: “She? Who is she?”

“Ah Jin…” Song Xiangwan’s voice was a mere whisper. “Ah Jin doesn’t even manage me anymore… Why are you managing me…”

Cao Xin roughly gathered from her words that this ‘Ah Jin’ was Ming Jin?

How could she not be managing her? Rongxing, such a big operation, was all for Song Xiangwan. Wasn’t that managing her?

However, she did feel that Song Xiangwan and Ming Jin had a history, and they might have broken up a few days ago.

Since Song Xiangwan returned from Shancheng, she had been out of sorts. When asked what was wrong, she wouldn’t say.

Today, Cao Xin had received an impromptu call from Jiang Lin, asking for Song Xiangwan’s address, saying she was too drunk to speak clearly and needed an address to take her home.

Cao Xin didn’t dare delay and rushed over as quickly as she could.

The car drove on. The ‘ancestor’ in the back seat finally fell asleep, stopping her mumbling and her attempts to undo the seatbelt.

Cao Xin thought for a moment but decided not to text Ming Jin.

She drove Song Xiangwan back to Clear Water Bay, settled her in bed, and, not wanting to leave her alone, decided to sleep in the guest room.

Song Xiangwan was in a drunken haze, hugging a pillow and rubbing against it, softly murmuring, “Ah Jin…”

After calling out twice, she suddenly opened her eyes, reached for the phone on the bedside table, unlocked it by muscle memory, opened the contacts, found the pinned contact, and dialed the number.

It went straight to a busy tone, “The number you have dialed is not answering, please try again later.”

She dialed again, and still no answer.

On the third attempt, someone answered, a faint voice saying, “Hello.”

“Ah Jin…” a soft, murmuring, drunk voice.

Ming Jin was woken up by the phone call in the middle of the night. She turned on the bedside lamp, her head spinning with a headache.

At first, she didn’t intend to answer, but after several persistent rings, she grew worried, fearing it might be an emergency call like the last time.

But it didn’t sound like it; it sounded like a drunk call.

She felt a little relieved.

“If there’s nothing, I’m hanging up,” Ming Jin said flatly.

“You don’t care about me anymore…” Song Xiangwan’s voice was full of grievance, pitiful and sad.

“Before, when I went out drinking, you always came to the bar to catch me…”

“I’m all drunk, and you don’t care about me.”

“You said you didn’t like me…”

“How can you not like me?”

“You said I was your first love.”

“Ah Jin, I miss you…”

The drunk woman’s murmurs, sentence after sentence, were all about herself.

Ming Jin’s finger hovered over the hang-up button. She kept it there for a long time, not pressing it.

“Ah Jin…” a soft, lingering whisper, the end of the sentence slightly rising, carrying a hint of a spoiled request.

“Mm,” Ming Jin responded softly.

Ming Jin watched the phone screen go dark, placed the phone aside, lay down, and closed her eyes.

A moment later, she opened her eyes, reached for her phone, and called Cao Xin.

“You said that I was the one you liked the most. You liked my dancing, you liked me kissing and hugging you, you liked me the most.”

“I was wrong. I won’t be disobedient ever again.”

“I will eat properly, take my medicine properly, film properly, and accompany you properly.”

“I don’t want that freedom anymore. I don’t want anything.”

“I don’t want money. If you don’t want to keep a ‘canary,’ I won’t let you treat me like one. I can support myself, and I can even make money for you.”

“Please come back, okay?”

“I want you to manage me, I miss you…”

“Please don’t abandon me, okay…”

Song Xiangwan couldn’t understand. She had clearly laid everything bare, she told her she knew Xu Zhiyan was her biological sister.

But why… did Ming Jin still push her away?

Ah Yan is my sister, so what does that prove? That I haven’t loved anyone else, that I still only love you?

Three years, Song Xiangwan, haven’t you calmed down yet?

I’m tired of games like keeping a ‘canary.’

Such hurtful words, so cold, they pierced her heart.

Cao Xin received a call from her boss late at night and quickly rushed into Song Xiangwan’s room to take her phone away.

When she took it, the ‘ancestor’ was still rambling into the phone, but the other side had already hung up.

If before there was a lingering connection, now Ming Jin had cleanly severed all ties.

However, Cao Xin also felt that Ming Jin wasn’t entirely heartless.

She insisted that Cao Xin wait until Song Xiangwan was sober before leaving, ensuring her safety.

She noted that Song Xiangwan had a sensitive stomach and drinking like that might cause her stomach pain, so Cao Xin should be mindful.

If there was work the next day, it could be postponed, and the company would cover the penalty fee.

Both of them seemed to have deep feelings for each other. What on earth was the conflict?

Cao Xin couldn’t figure it out.

Song Xiangwan did have work the next day, but it was too late to discuss it last night, so Cao Xin planned to address it early in the morning.

At 8 a.m., her biological clock woke her up, and she smelled the aroma of frying eggs.

She pushed open the guest room door and saw Song Xiangwan in the kitchen, busy and focused, wearing an apron.

She had fried two eggs and carefully used kitchen scissors to snip off the burnt edges.

“Eat,” she said, placing the fried eggs and toast in front of Cao Xin and pouring herself a glass of milk.

“Eat up,” Song Xiangwan urged, taking a bite of toast and seeing Cao Xin hadn’t moved. “I won’t poison you.”

“It’s a little burnt on the edges, but the rest is good. Hurry up and eat. We still have to go to work after.”

“No need to go. Stay home and rest,” Cao Xin said, taking a bite of toast. “Your condition isn’t good. Don’t force yourself…”

“I’m fine, truly fine.” Song Xiangwan gulped down her milk, picked up her plate and cup, and stood up. “Wash your cup yourself later.”

Cao Xin was stunned. What was going on? Had she suddenly become a workaholic?

The Song Xiangwan she had known for the past two years felt like a fake.

“What’s wrong?” Song Xiangwan felt the burning gaze on her back, turned around, and looked at her.

“No, nothing…” Cao Xin wasn’t quite sure who she was looking at but didn’t dare say anything.

The show they were filming today was a talent competition, and Song Xiangwan was a guest mentor, teaching a dance class to the young girls.

A hundred girls gathered, all good-looking and sweet-voiced; the entire filming studio was a garden of beautiful faces.

Song Xiangwan changed into her dance shoes and entered the room. This class had eight girls, who all stood up in unison and respectfully called out, “Hello, Teacher Song.”

“I heard you’ve been practicing your dance for several days. Let me see how it looks,” Song Xiangwan said, nodding to the staff nearby.

The eight girls quickly arranged themselves, and the staff played the music.

This group had chosen a piece leaning towards traditional Chinese style, with a significant part dedicated to dance performance, even including water sleeve choreography.

As soon as they started dancing, the problems became apparent.

Half of them weren’t professionally trained, forgetting steps or appearing clumsy, their water sleeves nearly getting tangled.

“What do you think is your biggest problem?” Song Xiangwan asked.

The eight girls seemed to realize the mentor wasn’t satisfied with their performance and looked a little timid.

“Not proficient enough.”

“Not enough practice time.”

“Unfamiliar with the music.”

“The dance is too difficult.”

“…”

After a flurry of comments, one girl, bolder than the rest, asked, “Teacher Song, could you give us a demonstration?”

“Come on.” Song Xiangwan stood up and walked to the mirror.

The sound of the Pipa (Chinese lute) began the piece. Her hands lifted with the music, and her water sleeves unfurled.

The music was soft and graceful, like flowing water. The water sleeves were like ink-dyed clouds, flowing, scattering, spinning, and soaring with her dance steps.

Then, the music abruptly intensified. She spun, and the water sleeves blossomed like a Peony.

In her hands, the water sleeves seemed alive, fluttering up and down, slowly descending as she spun and bent backward.

It was truly beautiful.

Beautiful to the extreme.

It was as if a fairy had stepped out of a painting to dance.

And this was just the effect of the water sleeves, without the flowing costume.

Song Xiangwan was slightly breathless, with a thin sheen of sweat on her nose. She had practiced this dance countless times in private and was extremely proficient.

She slightly steadied her breathing: “Alright, get ready. We’ll start teaching from the first movement.”

The program recording went smoothly. Cao Xin recorded Song Xiangwan’s entire dance from behind the camera.

Due to the non-disclosure agreement, the video couldn’t be released yet, but it could be used as promotional material when the show aired.

Cao Xin watched it several times on her phone—graceful, full of vital energy, like a fairy… Song Xiangwan dancing was beautiful to the utmost degree.

After thinking about it, Cao Xin bundled the video and sent it to Ming Jin’s email.

She then sent Ming Jin a text message: CEO Ming, I’ve sent a video of Xiangwan dancing to your email.

She didn’t know if Ming Jin would watch it, but that was all she could do.

As an employee, it was inappropriate to get too involved in the boss’s love life.

The filming lasted a long time, taking more than ten hours. As a guest mentor, Song Xiangwan was only involved in this one episode.

As she left, the young girls happily gave Song Xiangwan flowers.

Song Xiangwan placed the flowers aside, tapped on her phone, and then told the driver, “I sent you a location. Go there.”

“Where are we going?” Cao Xin was surprised.

Song Xiangwan didn’t reply. The driver followed the navigation, and the car stopped in front of a bar.

“No,” Cao Xin felt a surge of anxiety. “Another event?”

“Sister Lin invited me,” Song Xiangwan stepped out, turned, and waved to Cao Xin. “You all go ahead. Don’t worry about me, Sister Lin will take me home.”

In this situation… Cao Xin froze. Should she report this to the boss?

Drinking in the evening after such intense work all day was a recipe for disaster.

Song Xiangwan arrived late. Most of the people were already there. Jiang Lin raised her hand and beckoned her over: “Come, come, over here.”

Song Xiangwan sat down and took the wine glass offered by Jiang Lin: “Sorry, I’m late because of work.”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Lin slightly curved her lips, saying casually, “What work?”

“A talent show,” Song Xiangwan replied. “A guest mentor. Just one episode, to get some exposure.”

It was more than just exposure; it was a job carefully selected for her by Rongxing.

She had excellent dance skills and could easily gain fans and solidify her status as a senior artist through the show.

All the jobs Rongxing selected for her were top-tier.

She had assumed these were all Ming Jin’s careful choices, but given Ming Jin’s reaction, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Either way, if the job was accepted, she would go. If she refused, Ming Jin would surely have to pay the penalty fee again.

Ming Jin had already worked tirelessly for Rongxing’s sake. She couldn’t let her investment go to waste.

This was the only thing Song Xiangwan could do.

She didn’t want to be a burden to Ming Jin; she wanted to tell Ming Jin that she could be good, not cause trouble, and not make a fuss.

Could she please be given one more chance?

She could be a well-behaved ‘canary,’ suppressing all her little tempers.

For the first time, Song Xiangwan placed herself in the position of a ‘canary,’ waiting for her patron’s favor, humbling herself to the dust.

Cao Xin was uneasy leaving Song Xiangwan alone, so she didn’t dare leave. She even went inside the bar herself, drank a few rounds, and met a new group of friends.

Jiang Lin’s show was very popular, and many young men and women were desperate to squeeze into Jiang Lin’s parties, with a constant stream of new faces.

Seeing that Song Xiangwan was drunk, Cao Xin quickly found an excuse and took her away.

She had a nagging feeling that there was something off about Jiang Lin’s gatherings…

The young men and women were just too unrestrained.

It was as if they saw the party as a ladder to success, willing to cast aside everything to climb up.

Jiang Lin didn’t stop them; she even encouraged them, actively bringing in senior figures to connect with the young men and women.

One couldn’t really call it good intentions.

They had to drink hard and try hard to please to gain the slightest opportunity.

After dropping Song Xiangwan back at Clear Water Bay again, Cao Xin called Cheng Cheng and asked her to come over and stay the night.

Ming Jin’s text message: Watched the video. Thank you for your effort. You can add my WeChat; you can send things to me through WeChat from now on.

Upon receiving Ming Jin’s WeChat ID, she searched for it and added her.

The request was instantly accepted.

Ming Jin’s profile picture was a wall of vigorous, blooming red roses. Golden sunlight scattered over the lush green leaves and dewy petals, creating a waterfall of flowers, full of vibrant life.

Cao Xin cautiously sent a message: Hello, CEO Ming.

Ming Jin: Is she settled?

Cao Xin: Yes, I asked Cheng Cheng to come and watch her. I’ll leave after Cheng Cheng arrives, don’t worry.

Ming Jin: Thank you for your hard work.

Cao Xin: Thank you for the compliment, CEO Ming. It’s my job.

Cao Xin thought it over and decided she still needed to update Ming Jin, giving a brief summary of the past two days’ events.

Cheng Cheng arrived, Cao Xin gave a few instructions, and then headed home.

As she walked to the street, she felt a familiar car parked by the roadside looked strikingly conspicuous.

Cao Xin thought about it, quickly walked over, and tapped on the car window. The window rolled down, revealing Ming Jin’s face.

“CEO Ming, aren’t you going up?” Cao Xin asked.

Ming Jin’s eyes seemed to be focused for a moment, then her tone was flat: “No. You go home and rest.”

Cao Xin left. It was late at night, and the street was only lit by pools of streetlamp light. The lights on the 23rd floor went dark.

Ming Jin’s gaze lingered on the dark window for a moment. She slightly raised her finger, closed the car window: “Let’s go.”