When Spring Awakens - Chapter 6

Though only a week had passed since they last met, Wen Wanbing didn’t feel it had been long perhaps because time always flies when one is busy.

“What a coincidence,” she murmured softly.

“Quite the coincidence,” Fu Junxue replied with a smile. “I was just next door getting my car serviced when you texted me.”

When Wen Wanbing mentioned it would take about twenty minutes to walk to Solo, Fu Junxue suddenly realized this area was also a twenty-minute walk from Solo. At that moment, she wondered if they might run into each other, which led her to impulsively visit the Starbucks she rarely frequented.

And sure enough, they did.

Wen Wanbing nodded slightly, skipping the small talk. She lifted the paper bags in her hand and said, “I still have work to do.”

“Then I won’t keep you,” Fu Junxue stepped aside to let her pass, glancing at her slender frame and the multiple bags weighing down her arms. “Need any help?”

“No, thank you.”

As they brushed past each other, Fu Junxue’s voice drifted lightly into Wen Wanbing’s ears.

“Let me know when you’re off work.”

The reminder, spoken face-to-face, almost felt like she was waiting for her to finish.

Tiny beads of condensation formed on the cold brew in the paper bags, seeping into the texture. Her colleagues in the studio were waiting for their coffee. Wen Wanbing’s lips parted slightly, but she said nothing and walked away.

Once outside, she circled to the main entrance of the office building, where a glass wall ran along the side. Unable to resist, she glanced inside.

Fu Junxue stood by the window, right where she had been earlier, shaking the coaster where the glitter had settled at the bottom. The swirling particles shimmered, refracting intricate patterns of light.

Moving through the dappled sunlight and shadows, Wen Wanbing’s emotions mirrored the silver-blue glitter in the coaster floating lightly, densely interwoven and entangled.

The ding of the elevator snapped her scattered thoughts back into place.

She composed herself and quickened her pace toward the studio.

Inside, Hailing was surrounded by the photography team, discussing the final set of shooting requirements. Wen Wanbing set the coffee on the table and moved closer to listen.

Five minutes later, the discussion wrapped up. “I had Icey get coffee for everyone,” Hailing announced. “Take a quick break before we start shooting.”

“Hell yeah!”

“Thanks, Ocean! Thanks, Icey!”

Wen Wanbing stepped aside to make room for her colleagues grabbing their drinks.

“Wait, don’t take them yet let me snap a pic first!”

“Arrange them in a heart shape! Let’s flex on the 3C group in our WeChat Moments!”

“Nah, just a casual shot. The more effortless it looks, the more pretentious it feels.”

Wen Wanbing’s brow twitched, suddenly recalling how often Fu Junxue’s updates had been popping up in her WeChat Moments lately. Maybe that was why she hadn’t felt the absence so keenly.

Fu Junxue was someone who loved sharing beautiful fragments of her life.

In one post, she was at the most famous diving center in Shencheng, plunging into a twelve-meter-deep pool, her movements powerful and fluid, her hair and body stretching gracefully utterly captivating. In the next, she was camping under open skies, nestled between mountains and water, leisurely grilling prawns beneath a starry night.

Her carefree, unrestrained life was the polar opposite of Wen Wanbing’s and undeniably alluring.

Plenty of people flaunted their vibrant lives on social media, their photos often coming off as staged.

But every snapshot of Fu Junxue’s life felt effortless, almost entirely candid.

When Wen Wanbing thought of Fu Junxue spinning around the pole with the light, graceful, and seductive movements of a magpie, she suddenly realized she had been paying too much attention to Fu Junxue and overthinking things.

Hai Ling walked over with two cups of coffee and handed one to Wen Wanbing, casually asking, “Why did it take you so long?”

“Long line,” Wen Wanbing lied without batting an eye, pulling the receipt from her pocket and handing it over.

“Transferred to your WeChat,” Hai Ling reminded her. “Check it.”

“Got it.” Wen Wanbing opened WeChat and confirmed the payment.

Hai Ling asked offhandedly, “Got plans after work?”

Wen Wanbing answered honestly, “Going to Solo to learn diving.”

“Solo? That’s pretty famous. I’ve been seeing influencers post about it lately.” Hai Ling tilted her head. “Why the sudden interest in diving?”

“Just felt like it.” Her reply was vague because her attention had already shifted to the message Fu Junxue had sent.

It was a photo of a coffee drink the same one Wen Wanbing had bought. The cup was beaded with condensation only at the top, the lower half wiped clean. On the dark brown table, someone had traced a cube with water droplets.

[Snowflake]: Do you drink this often? It’s so sweet.

Icey: No, usually just hot water.

Remembering how Fu Junxue even worried about lemon black tea making her gain weight, she added: Sugar bomb. Drink less.

Fu Junxue didn’t reply.

A red notification popped up on her Moments feed. Wen Wanbing tapped it, a female colleague from the photography team had tagged her in a post.

Posts like this, if liked or commented on too early, would keep notifying her of new interactions. She strategically decided to wait until evening before engaging.

Just as she was about to exit, a new post appeared.

Fu Junxue had shared the same photo with a caption: Occasionally.

Like a response.

Wen Wanbing stared at it for a long time.

Halfway through her coffee, the photography team quickly resumed shooting to wrap up early.

Wen Wanbing forced herself to focus, but a restless, floaty sensation clung to her like being trapped in a bubble, indistinct yet palpable.

At 4:20 PM, the shoot ended. Wen Wanbing messaged Fu Junxue: Off work.

[Snowflake]: OK

She typed out “Are you still at Starbucks?” then immediately deleted it.

Asking something like that would make it seem like she was hoping Fu Junxue would wait for her. And that felt presumptuous, why would Fu Junxue wait?

She shoved her phone back into her pocket.

After helping clean up, Wen Wanbing said goodbye to Hai Ling and left. In the elevator, Hai Ling suddenly asked, “Is that Solo place on South Yan Road?”

Wen Wanbing hummed in confirmation.

The elevator doors opened. They walked out together, tossing their empty coffee cups into the trash.

Hai Ling offered, “I can drop you off.”

If Hai Ling wasn’t heading back to the office, Solo wasn’t on her way home. Wen Wanbing shook her head. “No need.”

She stopped at the steps, pulling up a map to walk there.

“I’m heading to Century Plaza anyway it’s on the way.” Hai Ling reached for her arm. “Come on.”

Wen Wanbing lightly furrowed her brows and deftly avoided the gesture: “Really, there’s no need.”

“Shui Shui.” Hai Ling lowered her hand, somewhat helpless. “You don’t need to be so distant with me. We were almost family.”

Wen Wanbing’s eyelashes trembled slightly, half-lowered, veiling the emotions in her eyes. She remained silent.

A red Jeep Wrangler pulled up in front of them.

The car window rolled down, and Fu Junxue rested her forearm on the window ledge, tilting her body slightly as she turned her head. Her gaze, laden with meaning, swept lightly between Wen Wanbing and Hai Ling.

A gentle breeze seemed to carry the scent of the car’s diffuser outward, a fragrance reminiscent of Fu Junxue herself, only richer.

It was like the sea breeze dispersing the aroma of roses, a crisp and transparent coolness wrapped around a trace of tenderness.

“I’ve been waiting for you for a while. Get in?” Fu Junxue asked, unlocking the doors.

Wen Wanbing was momentarily stunned, not expecting Fu Junxue to actually wait for her after work.

“Who is this?” Hai Ling inquired.

Compared to Hai Ling, Wen Wanbing subconsciously preferred troubling Fu Junxue. She explained to Hai Ling, “My coach. She happened to be nearby and offered me a ride. No need to trouble you.”

She opened the car door and settled into the back seat, exhaling softly. “Why did you wait for me?”

“I didn’t have anything else to do, and the Starbucks environment was decent enough,” Fu Junxue replied, rolling up the window. She glanced at Hai Ling fading into the distance in the left rearview mirror before shifting her gaze to Wen Wanbing, who was fastening her seatbelt. “The session is nearly four hours long. Do you want to grab something to eat before heading to Solo?”

Having just had a coffee earlier, Wen Wanbing shook her head. Realizing Fu Junxue couldn’t see while driving, she added, “No, I’m not hungry.”

Fu Junxue then said, “I’ll ask you something hope you don’t mind.”

The last time Fu Junxue prefaced a question with “hope you don’t mind,” she had been quite direct. Wen Wanbing lifted her gaze to the rearview mirror, waiting for the question.

Sure enough, the next second, Fu Junxue asked bluntly, “Was that your ex-boyfriend just now?”

She had overheard the part about “almost becoming family.”

They locked eyes quietly through the rearview mirror.

“You don’t have to answer,” Fu Junxue added with a chuckle as she started the car. “Sorry, couldn’t resist my nosy curiosity. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Wen Wanbing answered truthfully, “No, he’s my boss.”

Fu Junxue let out an “Oh,” then remarked, “Forgot you’ve never been in a relationship.”

Wen Wanbing: “…”

This joke was never going to die.

Fu Junxue caught Wen Wanbing’s exasperated expression in the rearview mirror and let out a soft, breathy laugh.

“Is your boss pursuing you?” she asked lazily, her tone casual.

This time, Wen Wanbing didn’t answer.

The car glided smoothly along the road.

Fu Junxue changed the subject. “Did you watch all the videos?”

Wen Wanbing gave a faint “Mhm.”

“Including that new career interview video?” Fu Junxue pressed.

Wen Wanbing lifted her eyelids slightly. “Yes. It was a bit different from what I expected.”

“How so?” Fu Junxue asked.

Wen Wanbing replied, “I thought it was just a way to placate parents, a performative job.”

After returning home that day, she had watched the interview.

Some people, unskilled in navigating romantic relationships, used the service to learn how to interact with a partner.

Others, burdened by the pressures of a fast-paced society, sought companionship through it.

Without exception, none of the interviewees cared about the inevitable end of these arranged relationships or the resources spent on them.

Because throughout this process, a considerate and perfectly ideal partner stays by their side, giving them time and positive feedback, accompanying them to fulfill dreams they wouldn’t dare pursue alone.

It helps them regain confidence and fall in love with life again.

“More like an emotional healing process,” Wen Wanbing murmured in a low voice, unaware of the longing hidden beneath her tone.

“Mhm.” Fu Junxue agreed wholeheartedly. “That’s why watching it makes you want to fall in love again.”

Again? Wen Wanbing glanced sideways at Fu Junxue.

“Miss Perpetually Single,” Fu Junxue said, her right hand on the steering wheel while her left rested atop it, her thumb idly rubbing her index finger. Her tone was lazy, stretching the question into something casual. “Not considering giving love a try?”

Wen Wanbing shot back, “With you?”

Fu Junxue stopped fidgeting with her fingers, her eyes curving into a friendly arc. “Yeah. If you don’t know how to date, I can teach you.”

Wen Wanbing asked, “You have a lot of experience?”

“Compared to you,” Fu Junxue replied.

“Oh.” Wen Wanbing lowered her gaze, refusing without hesitation. “Not considering.”

The atmosphere instantly cooled.

Fu Junxue let out a soft “tsk” and amended for her, “Understood for now.”

Wen Wanbing could have countered with “forever,” but the word stuck in her throat, unspoken. She didn’t respond, turning instead to look out the window.

Outside, the sky was a vivid blue, clusters of white clouds like strokes from an oil painter’s brush against a canvas. The sun hid behind the layers of clouds, its light faintly seeping through, casting a hazy glow that made the clouds appear slightly heavier.

Wen Wanbing closed her eyes, feeling as though the answer buried deep in her heart was like the sun behind those clouds, she didn’t know how much longer it could stay hidden.

Support When Spring Awakens