Chapter 42 Lost Weight

As the black Maybach drove into the underground parking garage of the Parrot Island Convention and Exhibition Center, Li Yaodong loosened his tie.

"Brother Dong, we've arrived." Driver Chen parked the car. "President Lin said he's waiting for you in the VIP room on the second floor."

"Brother Dong?" Old Chen turned around in confusion.

Li Yaodong took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and got out of the car.

As the elevator ascended, he straightened his tie against the metal wall, suddenly remembering Cheng Yin's always impeccably tailored shirt collar and her never-crooked name tag. She had been gone for a year, yet these details were branded into his mind, terrifyingly clear.

In the VIP room, Lin Shirong was reviewing documents, his gaze behind his gold-rimmed glasses as calm as ever. Seeing Li Yaodong enter, he adjusted his glasses: "The Vanke people have arrived."

"Mr. Wang?"

"Um, and..." Lin Shirong paused, "Cheng Yin."

The name struck Li Yaodong like a punch to the gut, making his chest tighten. He nodded expressionlessly, took the flowchart, and flipped through it, the pages trembling slightly in his hands.

"She didn't know that we were in charge of this project," Lin Shirong added. "President Wang kept it from her."

Li Yaodong sneered: "You arranged this?"

"A coincidence." Lin Shirong paused, pushing up his glasses. "But it's also an opportunity."

An opportunity? Li Yaodong scoffed inwardly. What opportunity? To see if she's doing well? To see if she's forgotten Macau? To see if...she might forgive him?

The venue was brightly lit. Li Yaodong stood in a corner, the ice in his whiskey glass mostly melted. He scanned the room, his gaze like radar, searching for that familiar figure.

"President Li!" President Wang's loud voice interrupted his gaze.

She stood behind President Wang, her gaze lowered, like a dutiful assistant. The moment Cheng Yin looked up and their eyes met, Li Yaodong felt a jolt of electricity run down his spine.

But he quickly moved away. A year, three hundred and sixty-five days... She changed, yet it seemed she hadn't.

Li Yaodong hid on the terrace smoking, the night breeze dispelling some of the heat.

My phone vibrated; it was a text message from He Jingwen: "Brother Dong, have you seen Sister Cheng? How is she?"

Li Yaodong didn't reply and locked the screen. Through the glass door, he saw Cheng Yin sitting alone in the corner, staring at her phone with a slight frown.

At the signing ceremony, Li Yaodong stood under the spotlight and delivered a speech. He knew his speech by heart, but his eyes couldn't help but scan the audience.

Cheng Yin stood in the shadows, looking up at him with a focused gaze, as if she were solving a math problem.

"...collaborating with Vanke Group to build a fintech park." Li Yaodong's gaze lingered on Cheng Yin for a second longer. "I believe this will open a new chapter in the cooperation between Yinghao."

The audience erupted in applause.

During the signing, Cheng Yin was pushed onto the stage and stood to his right. Li Yaodong smelled a faint jasmine scent on her; it wasn't perfume, but something more refreshing, more...unfamiliar.

The pen was handed to her, and Cheng Yin bent down to sign it, revealing a small patch of fair skin on the back of her neck where he had once left a kiss mark.

"It's a pleasure to cooperate." Li Yaodong extended his hand, his voice so steady that even he was surprised.

Cheng Yin's hands were colder than he remembered. The moment their palms touched, Li Yaodong almost lost control and wanted to tighten his grip and pull her into his arms. But he only shook her hand politely, then let go, turned around and exchanged pleasantries with President Wang, his smile as perfect as a mannequin.

After the banquet began, Li Yaodong took a glass of champagne and walked towards her. When Cheng Yin looked up, her eyelashes cast tiny shadows under the light, like the trembling wings of a butterfly.

"Director Cheng," he said in Cantonese, "long time no see."

Polite words acted like a wall, keeping them at a safe distance. Cheng Yin accepted the champagne, her fingertips accidentally brushing against his, and that small patch of skin immediately burned.

Li Yaodong forced himself to look away and focus on the decorative painting behind her.

"I heard you're doing well at Vanke."

"Just an ordinary job."

Are you used to Parrot Island?

"Good."

The question-and-answer session was as mechanical as two computers.

Lai Yiu-tung's gaze swept across her face; her cheekbones were more prominent than when she was in Macau, and there were faint dark circles under her eyes.

He wanted to ask, "Have you eaten properly?", to say, "Don't overwork yourself," and to order her, "Come back with me."

But in the end, all I said was, "You've lost weight."

Cheng Yin paused for a moment, then touched her face: "I've gained three pounds."

"My face," Li Yaodong pointed to his cheekbone, "this part is sunken."

Cheng Yin's fingers lingered on her cheek. Li Yaodong's Adam's apple bobbed; he wanted to grab that hand and kiss each fingertip. But he simply finished his champagne, said "Take care," and turned to leave, his back straight as a pine tree, without a moment's hesitation.

Stepping out of the convention center, the night breeze carried the smell of the sea.

Li Yaodong got into the Maybach and instructed Old Chen, "Drive slowly."

As he passed the convention center gate, he deliberately rolled down the car window halfway, pretending to look at his phone, but actually searching for that figure through the reflection of the screen. Cheng Yin stood by the roadside waiting for a car, the night breeze blowing through her hair, the streetlights casting a soft glow on her.

A year ago at Haojiang Airport, she stood like this, her small figure disappearing into the crowd, without turning around.

My phone suddenly vibrated. It was a text message from General Manager Wang: "General Manager Li, Director Cheng will be representing us at the conference tomorrow. Please take good care of him!"

Li Yaodong stared at the screen, feeling a tightness in his chest.

He should have refused, should have replaced Lin Shirong, and should have severed this damned connection completely. But his fingers had their own will and replied, "Welcome, it's a pleasure to cooperate."

After sending the message, Li Yaodong locked his phone and leaned back in his seat.

As the car drove along Heung Wan Avenue, the sea was as black as ink, and the lights of the cross-sea bridge in the distance looked like a string of pearls.

A year ago, he personally saw Cheng Yin off, thinking that time would heal all wounds. But now he knows that some things weren't forgotten, but rather that his mother had sunk to the bottom, and any touch would bring them all back to the surface.

Back in his hotel suite, Li Yaodong loosened his tie and poured himself a glass of whiskey. The alcohol burned his throat, but couldn't quell the burning sensation in his chest.

He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, where he could see the entire night view of Parrot Island, its lights shining like a galaxy.

In some corner, Cheng Yin might be sitting in her small apartment, working on her computer, or perhaps she's already asleep, dreaming of Macau, casinos, and...him.

The phone rang again. It was Lin Shirong: "Cheng Yin's information has been updated. I've sent it to your email."

Li Yaodong clicked on the attachment, and Cheng Yin's resume and recent photo popped up.

In the photo, she is wearing Vanke's uniform, her expression calm, her eyes clear. Her resume shows that she was promoted twice, in charge of three major projects, and was named an outstanding employee of the year.

She's doing very well, better than he imagined.

Will she still forget to eat when she's busy? Does she remember to eat breakfast on time? Does she still forget to reheat food when it gets cold, like she did in Macau?

These problems, like countless tiny insects, were gnawing at Li Yaodong's reason.

He closed the email and poured himself another glass of wine.

All the images intertwined, finally settling on the look in her eyes as she looked up at him tonight, a calm gaze carrying emotions he couldn't decipher.

He gently stroked the blurry figure, his throat tightening.

The project documents on the bedside table contained the agenda for tomorrow's meeting. Li Yaodong picked up a pen, circled "Vanke Representative," and then scribbled it out.

He should stay away from her, let her live a peaceful life, and bear the bitter consequences of his actions like a man.

But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was Cheng Yin's appearance tonight: a black and white business suit, a low ponytail, a pink pearl brooch, and those words, "You've gained three pounds..."

Lai Yiu-tung grabbed his car keys, then put them down. He couldn't go to see her, couldn't knock on her door late at night, couldn't tell her like a madman, "Come back to Macau with me."

Tomorrow... new meetings, new projects, new... torment.

He will meet Cheng Yin, have business-like conversations, restrain his urge to touch her, and continue to play the role of the cold and ruthless CEO Li.