Let Me Meet You chapter 35
Are You Afraid I’ll Lose?
The neighboring law firm seemed to have some kind of commotion going on, with a noisy crowd blocking the hallway from the elevator to the corridor.
“Excuse me,” Li Xuan said, facing several of the firm’s staff, who were red-faced and arguing, completely ignoring him.
“I said…” Li Xuan clicked his tongue, pressed down on someone’s shoulder, and pushed them aside. “Move.”
“What the…” The person barely had time to react before Li Xuan had already forced his way through the crowd.
For a brief moment, silence fell behind him, but the noise quickly resumed. Li Xuan pressed his temple, pulled out his keys, and headed to his office. When he reached the door, he stopped abruptly, stunned.
“Is someone still inside? Or did you forget to lock the door?” Sheng Min asked.
“It was locked.”
Li Xuan stared at the open glass door, glanced at his phone, and saw no messages or missed calls. He pursed his lips and cursed under his breath before saying to Sheng Min, “Let’s leave.”
“What’s wrong?”
Sheng Min, unaware of what had happened, obediently followed. They hadn’t gone far when a male voice called out from behind, “Li Xuan!”
Immediately after, hurried footsteps approached, and someone grabbed Sheng Min by the shoulder from behind. “Why are you walking away? Are you deliberately avoiding me?”
A young man around their age, with a cheerful, baby-faced appearance framed by black-rimmed glasses, approached them. His words sounded accusatory, like he was chasing someone down, but his face carried a warm, familiar smile.
“You said you’d drop by when you had time, but how long have you been living here? What a joke. If I didn’t recognize your computer, I’d have thought a burglar broke in when I first arrived.”
Sheng Min, almost pulled off balance, figured out from the context that this must be one of Li Xuan’s friends. He subtly stepped aside, removing the hand from his shoulder. “Why would I avoid you? I was just about to buy some water. What brings you here?”
“There’s water in the office! I even bought a case of that soda water you like and just picked it up from the parcel station.” Qi Boyuan explained. “But don’t get me wrong. I didn’t come here just to confront you. Remember our plan to interview that art candidate next Monday? Yesterday, a senior from the student council introduced me to one of his alumni. Apparently, he’s talented but a bit difficult to work with. No big deal—we’re not fans of flattery anyway.”
He continued, “But since we’ve already interviewed a few others, it felt unfair to let him skip ahead. So I suggested an initial interview today, and if he’s good, we’ll do the final round with everyone next week. He agreed. He’s supposed to arrive at four. I think he’ll pass the technical tests—he just left Yuanxin and even handled major projects there…”
“Yuanxin?”
Sheng Min, unfamiliar with domestic tech companies, had at least heard of Yuanxin, which dominated 40% of the domestic mobile game market.
“Yeah. Weird, right? Someone leaving Yuanxin should have no trouble finding work. We’re still just a startup. But he said he came specifically because of you.”
Qi Boyuan rested his hand on Sheng Min’s shoulder again, this time steering him back inside. He grinned smugly. “Remember that e-commerce app project you took on during sophomore year? He worked with you on that. The senior told me this guy, though an art major, is pretty good at coding too. Usually, he’d push everyone else’s deadlines and criticize programmers, but you pushed him so hard back then that he couldn’t keep up. After the project was done, he even asked the client about you. When he learned you were just a sophomore, he was so frustrated he skipped his graduation ceremony. Looks like he’s still holding a grudge and wants a rematch. Oh, right—his name is Chu Tianheng. Does that ring a bell?”
“Not really,” Sheng Min replied dismissively, glancing at Li Xuan, who followed a step behind, looking slightly exasperated.
“I thought as much. Just pretend you remember him during the interview, though.”
“I’m the one interviewing him?”
“Of course!” Qi Boyuan widened his eyes in mock surprise. “I finally caught you, and now you’re leaving? That’s too much. I’m starting to suspect you’ve done something to sabotage me!”
“I’m not up to anything,” Sheng Min deflected, changing the subject quickly. “Didn’t you just say running into me was a coincidence?”
“Fine, fine—half coincidence, half intention. I wasn’t planning to come to the office, but after you called, I decided to schedule the meeting here. And look, I found you. Can’t blame me for that… Here, your water.”
They had reached the office by now, where several boxes were stacked near the door. Qi Boyuan pulled out a bottle from one and tossed it to Sheng Min.
“Thanks,” Sheng Min caught it, eyeing the other unopened parcels.
Qi Boyuan grabbed a small knife and began opening them. Bamboo plants, a money tree, and an elephant figurine emerged. Finally, he pulled out a statue of a pixiu (a mythical creature symbolizing wealth), half the height of a person. Sheng Min noticed Li Xuan sigh faintly behind him.
“Don’t start. I’m not charging you for this,” Qi Boyuan said without looking back, enthusiastically arranging the items. “I didn’t get a God of Wealth or a golden toad—this pixiu already matches our company’s vibe. Traditional culture, right? Better safe than sorry. You’re too much of a workaholic, always dreaming in binary code. But hey, you’re improving. You even watch dramas now.”
Sheng Min, surprised, asked without thinking, “What drama?”
“Wangyang Willow! I saw it playing on your office computer. You’ve almost caught up to the latest episode.”
Nearly choking on water, Sheng Min felt a mix of embarrassment and surprise. He avoided looking at Li Xuan and stammered, “Probably just clicked it by accident…”
“Accident? You accidentally opened the drama and bought a VIP subscription?” Qi Boyuan shot him a look of disbelief. “I didn’t know you were into this. Jia Jia’s coming later too. You two can bond over your shared interests.”
Li Xuan, seemingly at his limit, coughed loudly.
Since switching bodies, Li Xuan had avoided meeting familiar people. Qi Boyuan, caught up in his excitement, hadn’t noticed the masked man behind Sheng Min until now. Startled, he turned sharply. “Uh, who’s this? How did you…?”
“He’s my friend,” Sheng Min quickly replied, raising a hand to cool his face.
“Sorry, I didn’t notice earlier. Hi,” Qi Boyuan greeted awkwardly but hesitated when neither Sheng Min nor the masked man said more.
“This… He’s got a severe cold,” Sheng Min explained hastily. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for the interview at four?”
“Not much to prepare—the meeting room is all set,” Qi Boyuan said, glancing at his phone. “He said he’ll be at the park in about half an hour.” He pressed the talk button and spoke into his phone, “Senior, when you get here, just head straight along the left road to Building C.”
The other party responded with a quick acknowledgment. Qi Boyuan raised an eyebrow and asked, “So, are you joining the interview or not? If you really have something urgent, go ahead and take care of it. You’re always acting so mysterious… But it’s just a matter of an hour or so. If you can manage it, why not sit in?”
Sheng Min hesitated. This wasn’t exactly his call to make, but after a few thoughts flashed through his mind, he agreed. “Alright,” he said, then casually added, “My friend will join too.”
“Sure, that’s fine,” Qi Boyuan replied, a bit curious but not pressing further. He glanced at the “severely ill” friend, who spoke up without hesitation.
“Get the property management to handle the argument in the hallway,” Li Xuan said. “It wouldn’t look good for the interviewee to see that.”
Apparently, a law firm next door had lost a lawsuit, and their client had come to make a scene. After more than an hour of back-and-forth, both sides were nearing their limits but were too proud to back down. Though Qi Boyuan had enthusiastically pointed out that the narrow hallway might affect performance and even called the police as a bluff, the property management still hadn’t arrived. Eventually, the dispute quieted down on its own.
With the crowd dispersed, the hallway suddenly felt much more spacious, leaving behind a few half-burnt cigarette butts and floating dust in the air. Qi Boyuan was busy talking to someone from the law firm and hadn’t immediately returned.
“Did he really call the police?” The earlier awkward atmosphere hadn’t entirely dissipated as Sheng Min tried to make small talk while they sat at opposite ends of the lounge area sofa.
“He’s not stupid…” Li Xuan scratched his neck, then hesitated. “Uh, not saying you’re not smart. What I mean is, he wouldn’t actually call the police. The law firm sees these clients every day; getting them into trouble wouldn’t help. He just scared them a bit. Once the police get involved, it could leave a record, which the firm would want to avoid. And among the troublemakers, at least two of them have definitely been in jail before. They wouldn’t want to go back either.”
Li Xuan seemed a little embarrassed, possibly still uneasy about Qi Boyuan mentioning his private drama-watching habits earlier. He started talking more than usual, while Sheng Min pretended not to notice.
“How do you know some of them have been in jail?”
“Just a hunch,” Li Xuan said simply. “Those who’ve been inside—they have a different look in their eyes, a different demeanor.”
Something about that made Sheng Min tense up. He glanced at Li Xuan, who, as if realizing what he had just implied, quickly looked away.
An inexplicable silence fell between them, as if something unseen had come between them. Neither spoke for a while. Sheng Min opened his mouth to say something but stopped. Instead, he quietly stood up and walked to the front desk, fiddling with a wooden elephant sculpture.
“What are you doing?” Li Xuan joined him after about thirty seconds or a minute, not a long time, standing behind him.
“An elephant with its trunk down is supposed to draw water, which symbolizes attracting wealth,” Sheng Min explained gently, as if the earlier silence had never happened. “Actually, it’s not misplaced; both windows here have a view of water. But I think the north side is upstream, where the flow is stronger.”
“You believe in this kind of thing?”
“I used to play a Taoist priest in a film. On set, there were prop feng shui books, and I’d flip through them while waiting for scenes.” Carefully, Sheng Min adjusted the elephant’s direction. “Your friend is quite interesting. Have you known each other long?”
“College classmates, about three years,” Li Xuan said, leaning against the wall. “You didn’t have to stay for the interview. He wouldn’t take it personally if you left. He just likes to talk.”
“That’s not why I stayed,” Sheng Min replied without turning around. “I don’t know much, but I feel like a game’s ability to attract players starts with its visuals. The lead artist is probably important to you, right? So, wouldn’t it be better for you to stay and evaluate him? Don’t be mad at me for making the decision on my own.”
“I’m not. But you…”
“I can handle it,” Sheng Min said softly, his expression unreadable, but his voice calm and gentle. “Don’t worry.”
The harshest part of the sun had passed, but the summer light pouring through the windows was still bright and searing. The dense green shadows of trees cast fragmented patterns on the wooden floor, which came together naturally in certain spots.
Caught by the play of light and shadow, Sheng Min adjusted the wooden sculpture and lifted a hand to shield his eyes, squinting slightly as he moved closer. The light painted a soft golden sheen on him.
“I’ve never been to prison. But I do know a lot of people with criminal records,” Li Xuan said, picking up the conversation again. His tone was calm. “I have been to the police station a few times for group fights. I was too young then, so there’s no record.”
“I know,” Sheng Min said, sighing slightly. At some point, he had turned to face Li Xuan. “And you know I’m not really…”
“I know,” Li Xuan interrupted, shrugging lightly with a familiar, casual smile.
It seemed like they were speaking in riddles, but they both clearly understood each other.
“Those people must’ve been jealous of how smart and good-looking you were to pick on you,” Sheng Min said after a moment of silence.
Li Xuan chuckled at the unexpected remark. “No one picked on me—it was a group fight, mutual brawling.”
Sheng Min looked down at the scar on his hand, unable to stop wondering if the younger Li Xuan had been scared during those police station visits. Without an identity then, had he worried about being sent back to a shelter or orphanage?
But he didn’t say any of that. Instead, he stubbornly repeated, “They must’ve been jealous.”
“Maybe,” Li Xuan replied with a smile. “If I meet them again, I’ll ask. They’re probably still hanging out on the same street.”
Even though he knew Li Xuan was joking, the thought made Sheng Min uneasy. He didn’t feel he had the right to say, “Don’t see them again.” So instead, he said, “If you do meet them, make sure to let me know.”
“Afraid I’ll lose?”
“You won’t lose,” Sheng Min shook his head with a joking tone. “I just want you to win more easily.”