That day, Murong Feng was invited by his student council friends to host the Christmas Gala for the School of Management. As he entered the arts auditorium where the event rehearsal was taking place, his eyes immediately fell upon a tall, striking young woman. She stood confidently at the center of the stage, enthusiastically explaining the program details to the student performers. Her radiant youth and beauty were captivating.
When she noticed Murong Feng and his companion enter, she flashed a brilliant smile. Her eyes lit up particularly when they met Murong Feng's gaze, her sparkling eyes instantly stirring his calm demeanor.
That was during their sophomore year of university.
That single glance was much like tonight's encounter.
The person remained the same, but feelings had been hurt, and love had faded.
Memories flashed through Murong Feng's mind like lightning. He paused for a moment, then nodded slightly in acknowledgment as if greeting a stranger before turning back to continue his conversation with Tang Qing and Bao Zixian. Although time had dulled the intense hatred he felt when he first saw her at Qiangui, he had no desire to interact with her further.
So much time had passed. That relationship, once filled with Murong Feng's deepest joys and sorrows, had slowly been eroded by time, scattered to the winds.
Zhao Nian's heart sank. It had taken great courage for her to attend this reception. Having been with Murong Feng for so many years, she knew his personality well. She harbored no illusions about rekindling their relationship but hoped they could at least remain friends. After all, they shared years of history together. For anyone who had struggled and made a name for themselves in society, their first love was always a cherished memory.
In recent years, as Zhao Nian's horizons broadened and her career began to flourish, she sometimes regretted her cruel decision in those quiet moments of reflection. At least Murong Feng seemed to be doing well since she left, which provided her some comfort.
When their eyes met, her inner turmoil matched Murong Feng's. The man before her was still as dashing and talented as he had been in their college days. The years of depression and listlessness that followed their breakup were no longer visible, yet she had left him at his lowest point. The realization filled her with a sudden, overwhelming sadness.
Especially when Murong Feng's gaze flickered with a mix of emotions, it felt as if they had relived all their memories in an instant. Then, his eyes regarded her as they would a stranger, that slight nod sending Zhao Nian's heart plummeting.
Being ignored was even more painful than being hated.
The reception began with lively jazz music. Two renowned Beijing hosts delivered witty welcome speeches, humorously introducing TOM Media and their newly launched fashion magazine, "Style."
"Style," TOM Media's new flagship weekly fashion magazine, aimed to revolutionize China's fashion media landscape. While providing in-depth coverage of international trends, it would use a distinctly Chinese perspective to bring global fashion to China's stylish metropolises, exploring urban spirit, consumer trends, and elite lifestyles to uncover the latest fashion in China's first-tier cities.
The hosts joked that from now on, everyone would need to consult "Style" before going out to ensure they were dressed according to the latest Beijing fashion, lest they be considered "out the loop." The guests responded with good-natured laughter.
During the speech segment, Bao Zixian naturally took the stage, while Murong Feng and Tang Qing stood side by side below, smiling and applauding, occasionally leaning in to share a quiet joke. From a distance, Zhao Nian maintained her polished appearance. As a rising star in the fashion world, she was quite well-known, and people frequently approached her for conversation. She handled the social interactions gracefully, but couldn't help glancing in Murong Feng's direction, her heart growing heavier at the sight of the couple's intimacy.
After Bao Zixian's speech, there was a small fashion show. The staff extended a 7-meter runway from the center of the stage, and guests moved to seats on either side of the courtyard. Bao Zixian joined some officials from the General Administration of Press and Publication and the Ministry of Culture to socialize, while Murong Feng and Tang Qing found seats in a corner.
It was only after sitting down that Murong Feng realized Zhao Nian was seated directly across from them, on the other side of the runway.
Tang Qing suddenly smiled and said softly, "Murong, did you see Zhao Nian?"
The question startled Murong Feng. He looked at Tang Qing in surprise and said, "Qing'er..." He had never mentioned Zhao Nian to her before. They spoke quietly to avoid being overheard, and he naturally used her nickname.
Tang Qing's smile was serene as she looked at him gently and said, "Ruo Ruo told me about her. She was worried you might be upset if you saw Zhao Nian." In truth, Tang Qing had noticed Murong Feng's brief exchange of glances with Zhao Nian earlier. When she saw his calm nod of acknowledgment, she felt secretly delighted.
She hadn't misjudged Murong Feng; he was a man who could let go of the past.
Murong Feng couldn't help but quietly take Tang Qing's hand under the table, smiling as he said, "That's all in the past now."
Tang Qing blushed slightly and gently pulled her hand away, whispering, "What if someone sees?"
Murong Feng chuckled and didn't pursue the topic further. They both turned their attention to the fashion show with interest.
After the show came the usual networking and socializing. Both Murong Feng and Tang Qing were well-known figures in their social circles, and people frequently approached them for conversation. They also had to entertain friends and clients. At the moment, Tang Qing was chatting in German with Klaus Berning, the Executive Vice President and Board Member of Porsche, who had just come over to greet her.
Murong Feng couldn't understand their conversation, but when Tang Qing cast an apologetic glance his way, he simply smiled, unbothered. He stood to the side, sipping his drink and observing the other guests. Looking around, he realized he knew quite a few people there, though he hadn't noticed earlier while engrossed in conversation with Tang Qing. In one corner, he spotted He Yajun, his future EMBA classmate whom he had shared drinks with just a few days ago.
Suddenly, a familiar voice came from behind him: "Murong."
Murong Feng sighed inwardly before turning around with a polite smile. "Miss Zhao, hello."
Although Zhao Nian knew his response was perfectly normal—and far more courteous than their last encounter—she still felt a pang of heartache. She almost wished he still harbored resentment towards her; this indifference was indescribably painful.
However, Zhao Nian was no ordinary person. She masked her emotions well and quickly composed herself. Mirroring Murong Feng's polite demeanor, she smiled lightly and said, "Congratulations on your recent achievements." She raised her cocktail glass.
Murong Feng smiled, lifting his own glass to touch hers lightly. "Thank you."
This was their first normal conversation in the nearly three years since their breakup. Even though Murong Feng's heart was as calm as still water, he couldn't help but feel a slight ripple of emotion. After all, the woman before him was his first love, his partner of six years, once the only color in his life.
Zhao Nian's inner turmoil was no less than his, but they were both different people now. Experience had tempered them, so their expressions were indistinguishable from any other guests engaged in polite conversation. To anyone unaware of their history, they would appear to be new acquaintances meeting at a reception—just an exceptionally attractive pair.
Zhao Nian had actually approached him to discuss something specific. Feeling that she had nothing else to say to Murong Feng, she asked, "There's something I wanted to tell you, Murong. Do you know someone named Huang Jue?"
Murong Feng was taken aback, unsure why Zhao Nian had brought this up. However, knowing her as he did, he was certain she wouldn't make small talk without reason. She always carried herself with grace and decorum, never engaging in idle chatter. Her question must have a purpose. After a moment's thought, he nodded and said, "I recall now. There's a committee member named Huang Jue in the Federation of Industry and Commerce's Political Participation Committee. He's... the chairman of a Chinese company, I believe. Why do you ask?"
Zhao Nian sighed and lowered her voice. "Well, a few days ago, I accidentally overheard... I overheard Wang Yonghui arguing with someone named Huang Jue. The gist of it was that Huang Jue accused Wang Yonghui of giving him false information, saying something about charitable donations having already been received. Wang Yonghui countered that Huang Jue had asked him to gather information to... to target you, to push you out of the running for the CPPCC committee membership. Wang Yonghui claimed he was just helping out, and so on."
She looked into Murong Feng's eyes, her gaze filled with remorse. "I had a big fight with Wang Yonghui over this afterward. I'm sorry, but it seems the rumors about you might have been Huang Jue's doing. I should have told you sooner, but I was afraid..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.
Murong Feng was stunned. So that was it!
The election for the new term of Beijing CPPCC members was next month, and the Federation of Industry and Commerce's Political Participation Committee would nominate several members for the municipal CPPCC. It was a position of high social status and honor, and Murong Feng had been a strong candidate. It seemed Huang Jue, fearing he might lose his position, had enlisted Wang Yonghui's help to find and exploit Murong Feng's weaknesses.
Understanding dawned on Murong Feng, and he nodded with a smile. "Thank you for letting me know, Miss Zhao." He turned to find Tang Qing and Guo Yong to discuss the matter, but after a couple of steps, he paused. Looking back, he saw Zhao Nian's gaze still fixed on him, filled with unspoken emotions.
He sighed inwardly and turned back to face Zhao Nian, speaking earnestly. "Nian Nian, this is the last time I'll address you this way. Let's leave the past in the past. From now on, let's both live our own lives well, without regrets. I wish you all the best."
With that, he nodded to Zhao Nian once more and walked away.
Zhao Nian could no longer hold back her tears. She quickly wiped them away, trying to appear casual, and watched Murong Feng's retreating figure. In her heart, she knew that any chance of reconciliation between them was now gone forever.