Chapter 105 Five-Year Countdown

In late spring in Beijing, a restless yet gentle warmth floats in the air.

In the president's office of the Huo Group, the documents on the large desk were neatly arranged. Only the thick calendar was turned to a certain page, on which a small asterisk was marked next to a certain date with an extremely fine black ink pen. Apart from that, there were no other annotations.

Huo Yanli had just finished a video conference regarding follow-up plans for the East Africa project. Thanks to key information facilitated by Song Zhiyi, the Huo team adjusted its strategy, shifting towards more pragmatic high-level communication and coordination of local interests, and the deadlock is slowly breaking down.

However, when the screen went dark and the office returned to silence, the weight on Huo Yanli's heart did not lessen in the slightest. He loosened the top button of his collar, leaned back in his chair, and his gaze inevitably fell on the calendar.

That date marked with an asterisk is like a countdown timer buried in the quicksand of time—silent, yet impossible to ignore.

There are still four months and seven days until that day.

Precise, cold, with an almost cruel objectivity.

A faint, sharp pain shot through his stomach, something that always happened when he was stressed lately. He remembered the jar of loquat syrup she had asked someone to bring him a while back, saying it was for moisturizing dryness in the spring. The sweet, slightly bitter taste seemed to still linger in his memory, but the person who had shown him that concern… seemed to have been absent from his life for quite some time now.

He knew her style. Problems were solved, boundaries were automatically overridden, and there was never any dragging on.

He also vaguely sensed that in her world, a world he could never fully enter, some more significant gears were turning. The news his uncle had told him remained like an ice spike, stuck in his heart: "United Nations...Middle East...two years..." Each word carried weight and distance. She didn't speak of it, and he didn't dare to ask. An almost cowardly tacit understanding maintained the thin layer of icy calm on the surface.

There was a symbolic knock on the office door twice, then it was pushed open. Ji Yun casually tossed his car keys onto the table and loosened his shirt collar.

"Still not gone?" Ji Yun walked to the reception area, threw himself onto the sofa, and sighed comfortably. "The weather outside is hot during the day, but comfortable at night. It's just that the poplar catkins are a bit annoying."

Huo Yanli raised his eyes: "Did you need something?"

"Can't you come if there's nothing wrong?" Ji Yun raised an eyebrow, then pulled out two exquisite invitations from his suit pocket and placed them on the coffee table. "Here, it's important. My father-in-law's 90th birthday, next week, same place. Please bring your family." He deliberately dragged out the last four words, his eyes glancing meaningfully at Huo Yanli.

Huo Yanli walked over and picked up the invitation. The lettering was in gold, and the wording was impeccable. Old Master Ji's birthday banquet was an occasion that no one in the industry could avoid.

"Understood." He placed the invitation on the table.

Ji Yun observed his expression, dropped his nonchalant demeanor, and sat up slightly: "Is the situation in Africa stable?"

"Yes, things are basically clear now. Thanks to..." Huo Yanli paused, "we found the right person, and communication has become much smoother."

"That's good." Ji Yun nodded, his fingertips tapping unconsciously on the sofa armrest, as if he was organizing his thoughts. After a few seconds of silence, he suddenly asked a seemingly abrupt question: "Yanli, we've known each other... for about twenty years, haven't we?"

Huo Yanli looked at him: "Why are you suddenly asking this?"

"Twenty years. I've watched you grow from a naive young man into who you are today." Ji Yun's gaze became somewhat distant. "I've also watched you go through a lot." He paused, lowered his voice, and said with a rare seriousness, "Some things may cross the line, but as a brother, I feel uncomfortable keeping them to myself."

Huo Yanli did not respond, but simply waited quietly for what would happen next.

Ji Yun took a breath and looked directly at Huo Yanli: "Is your five-year agreement with Song Zhiyi coming to an end soon?"

Despite being prepared, when his friend so bluntly exposed his feelings, Huo Yanli's heart still felt like it was being squeezed tightly by an invisible hand, a dull ache quickly spreading throughout his body. His knuckles turned slightly white as he placed his hands on his knees.

"There are still more than four months left." He heard his own voice, a calm surface masking a powerful undercurrent.

“Four months have passed in the blink of an eye.” Ji Yun’s tone was unusually serious, tinged with a hint of barely perceptible worry. “Yanli, I’m not here to pry into your privacy, nor am I here to give you advice. I just want to remind you—you should think about this carefully. Think about these past five years, think about this person, think about… what you want five years from now, and what you can do.”

He leaned forward, his gaze sharp: "Yes, everyone felt stifled by this marriage back then. You think it was the old man who forced it on us, and we all thought it was absurd. But in these five years, everyone has witnessed it. You know better than anyone what kind of person Song Zhiyi is and what place she holds in your heart. Not to mention you, my mother, Zhou Mubai's father, and the old man of the Shen Yu family—who doesn't genuinely praise her when they talk about her? You know perfectly well the changes she has brought."

Ji Yun's words were like a precise scalpel, cutting through the facade of calm that Huo Yanli was trying to maintain.

“So, Yanli,” Ji Yun said, enunciating each word clearly and slowly, “stop putting on airs and stop deceiving yourself. Time waits for no one. You should think about how to keep people here.”

"How to retain people?"

Huo Yanli repeated in a low voice, a slow smile curving his lips. There was no warmth in that smile, only a heavy self-mockery and a deep-seated weariness.

He looked up at Ji Yun, his eyes swirling with complex and unreadable emotions—a clarity after struggle, a powerlessness in the face of reality, and an almost sorrowful honesty.

"Ji Yun," Huo Yanli's voice was soft, yet it was like a heavy stone thrown into stagnant water, creating a deep echo in the quiet office, "Do you think Song Zhiyi is someone I can keep?"

Ji Yun was speechless for a moment.

"Her journey was one of peace and prosperity for the nation. These are her own words." Huo Yanli's gaze shifted to the deepening twilight outside the window, his voice ethereal. "The United Nations, battlefields, negotiating tables, wherever she was needed... these were her directions. And me, Huo Yanli, what is my world? It's the endless financial report meetings in this building, the clinking of glasses at social gatherings, and the so-called 'Beijing circle prince' aura you all speak of."

He gave a wry smile, a smile that made Ji Yun's heart tighten.

“In the past few months, I’ve done some different things—establishing a foundation, focusing on public welfare, and trying to understand the world she cares about. But what is this like?” He shook his head. “It’s like a child who has just learned to read suddenly trying to understand a doctoral dissertation. The gap is too big. In her eyes, what I’ve done might just be… a lucky businessman, after accumulating enough wealth, a belated, insignificant compensation, or perhaps just another, more sophisticated calculation of interests.”

“She doesn’t need to be ‘held back’ by anyone.” Huo Yanli’s voice lowered, carrying a heartbreaking clarity. “Her life has a predetermined track, a distant destination she must reach. Marriage, or rather, this relationship with me, is likely just an unexpected, temporary stop on her long journey. When the time comes, the platform announcement will sound, and she will board the next train without hesitation to continue her journey. And me…”

He paused for a long time, so long that Ji Yun thought he wouldn't continue.

Then, he heard Huo Yanli finish the sentence in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible, like a feather falling onto the frozen lake:

"...I might not even be considered a platform. At best, I'm just a tree beside the tracks, a tree that was occasionally glanced at by her gaze from the train window. The wind came, she left, and the tree remained in the same place, nothing more."

A long, almost suffocating silence fell over the office.

Ji Yun opened her mouth, wanting to say something to refute or encourage, but found that any words seemed pale and powerless in the face of such a clear and cruel understanding.

It turned out that Huo Yanli wasn't unaware; rather, he understood all too well. So well that even he, as an observer, felt a pang of sadness.

In the end, Ji Yun said nothing, but stood up, walked to Huo Yanli's side, and pressed hard on his shoulder. The muscles there were as taut as stone.

“Whether it’s a tree or a platform,” Ji Yun said softly, with a rare hint of seriousness, “at least, don’t let yourself become a wall blocking her view of the scenery. The rest… let time do its work.”

After saying that, he picked up his coat and car keys, turned around and left the office, gently closing the door behind him.

Huo Yanli sat alone in the completely dark office, without turning on the lights.

Outside the window, the city lights shimmered and shone, like an inverted galaxy, dazzling yet distant.

His gaze returned to the calendar on his desk.

Four months and seven days.

The countdown is flowing silently.

He, on the other hand, is still learning how to become a tree that won't be easily broken by the fierce winds and snowstorms she stirs up as she moves forward.

Perhaps, this is all he can do.