Chapter 20 An Unexpected Intersection
Half an hour later, the assistant knocked on the door again and came in, this time with an even more complicated expression.
"Mr. Huo, we've made contact with Madam," the assistant reported. "It was through the Ministry of Foreign Affairs' internal communication system. Madam is... uh, in Geneva, attending an emergency closed-door meeting."
Huo Yanli raised his eyes: "What did she say?"
"After hearing that it was a commission from the Huo Group, the lady was silent for a few seconds." The assistant tried hard to recall the details of the call. "Then she said that she was grateful for the Huo Group's trust, but she was currently at the United Nations European Headquarters participating in the final round of consultations on the Middle East ceasefire agreement and would not be able to leave Geneva for the next week."
The assistant paused, then added, "Madam also said she could recommend several other excellent Arabic translators from the translation department; they are all her colleagues, and their professional abilities are trustworthy. If needed, she can help coordinate."
Huo Yanli didn't speak. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest.
She is in Geneva, participating in ceasefire agreement negotiations. She cannot leave.
This answer was both unexpected and reasonable.
“What else did she say?” he asked.
"They didn't say anything more. They just politely apologized and said they could contact us again if there was anything else they could help with." The assistant hesitated for a moment, then said, "Mr. Huo, should we accept Madam's recommendation and contact other translators?"
Huo Yanli remained silent for a moment.
“No need.” He stood up. “I will explain to Sheikh myself and see if we can continue the negotiations in English. Or… postpone it for a few days until we find a more suitable translator.”
The assistant was somewhat surprised. Postponing the negotiations? This wasn't like Huo Yanli. He was always decisive and efficient, resolving problems immediately without delay.
"Okay, I'll arrange it right away." Although the assistant was puzzled, his execution was impeccable.
Huo Yanli was left alone in the office again. He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked at the sky gradually darkening outside.
The rain finally started. Fine raindrops pattered against the glass, meandering down and blurring the city lights outside the window into a hazy patchwork of light.
Two years have passed, and she is still in Geneva.
Busy working for peace.
And here he is, negotiating for billions of dollars in investments.
Two worlds. Parallel, occasionally intersecting, but always diverging.
My phone vibrated. It was a WeChat message from Ji Yun: "I heard your negotiations are stalled? Do you need any help? I know a good Arabic translator."
Huo Yanli replied, "No need, it's resolved."
"So fast? Who did you contact?"
Huo Yanli looked at the chat box, his finger hovering above the screen for a few seconds before typing: "Recommended by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, but the person is not in the country."
Ji Yun quickly replied: "Ministry of Foreign Affairs? It's not your husband, is it?"
Huo Yanli did not reply. He locked the screen and put the phone back in his pocket.
The rain outside the window was getting heavier. The whole city was shrouded in a curtain of rain, and distant buildings were reduced to hazy outlines.
He suddenly realized that this was the first time in two years that they had almost had a real working relationship.
If she hadn't been in Geneva, if she hadn't been involved in the ceasefire negotiations, perhaps she would have walked into this meeting room, sat next to him, and built a linguistic bridge between him and his negotiating counterpart.
How will they meet? What will she call him? Mr. Huo? Or... Yanli?
How will he introduce her? Translator Song? Or… my wife?
These hypothetical questions, seemingly impractical amidst the sound of rain, inexplicably occupied his thoughts.
The assistant knocked on the door again, this time bringing good news: "Mr. Huo, Mr. Sheikh has agreed. He said that negotiations can continue in English, but he requires that all final documents must have an Arabic version and be checked by an authoritative translator jointly designated by both parties."
“Okay.” Huo Yanli regained his composure and snapped out of his reverie. “Arrange for the legal team to prepare a bilingual text. As for the translator… accept Song’s recommendation and contact her colleagues.”
"yes."
Negotiations resumed in the evening. Without the language barrier, progress was much smoother. Two hours later, both sides reached a preliminary consensus on the core terms and agreed to sign a letter of intent a week later.
After seeing Xie He and his entourage off, Huo Yanli returned to his office. Outside the window, the city lights were already on. The rain had stopped, and the night sky of Beijing, washed clean by the rain, made the neon lights appear exceptionally bright in the damp air.
He turned on his computer and searched for news about the "Geneva Middle East Ceasefire Agreement".
The latest news was released an hour ago: the United Nations announced that, thanks to the efforts of all parties, a 72-hour temporary ceasefire agreement has been reached in a conflict zone in the Middle East, and a humanitarian corridor will open tomorrow morning.
The accompanying photo showed a conference room with a dozen people sitting around a long table. The photo was blurry, but Huo Yanli immediately recognized the profile of the person sitting in the corner—a white shirt, a ponytail, and a slightly bowed head looking at the documents in front of him.
Even with low resolution and just a side profile, he could still recognize it.
That's Song Zhiyi.
She is doing what she considers important.
He almost called her back from that important matter because of a business negotiation.
Huo Yanli closed the webpage, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.
My grandfather's words echoed in my mind: "You'll regret this."
He doesn't know if he'll regret it in the future.
But he knew one thing clearly at that moment: Song Zhiyi, his legal wife, was doing something in a field he knew nothing about, something he might never truly understand, yet he had to acknowledge as important.
Yet, they are still separated by thousands of miles.
It's not in a geographical sense.
It's something deeper.
The city lights outside the window still shine brightly.
Meanwhile, in Geneva, thousands of miles away, the woman who had just worked hard for the ceasefire agreement was probably packing up her documents, preparing to return to her temporary accommodation, rest for a few hours, and then continue her work the next day.
Huo Yanli opened his eyes, picked up his phone, and sent a message to his assistant:
When I contact the colleague recommended by Song tomorrow, please convey my thanks to her for the recommendation and wish her all the best in her work in Geneva.
send.
Then he put down his phone and looked out the window.
The night was deep.
But some things, on this ordinary winter night, quietly changed their course.
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