Chapter 07

On the days leading up to a business trip, Ye Ji’an always found himself in a chaotic state. Although he usually felt uncomfortable, the days before a trip were particularly miserable. To improve the efficiency of time and budget, the team had to draft a rough plan for the work after their departure, and all necessary proposals and agreements had to be prepared and submitted on time. They also had to keep an eye on the competitors, while internally, Ye Ji’an had to wrap up his own work to avoid any mishaps during this critical period before the Spring Festival when he wouldn’t be around.

This led to late-night overtime becoming a daily occurrence rather than an occasional necessity. Every time he found himself in the smoking room, hurriedly smoking a Mevius Blueberry that was sweet yet bitter, Ye Ji’an felt like he was living like a dog.

Liang Xiao would sometimes sit next to him, lighting his cigarette with the butt of his own. The conversations were certainly enjoyable, even if they were just about the haze outside or the games they had no time to watch live; it made one feel alive. However, with their schedules so packed, neither of them had the time to ponder where to have lunch, often settling for boxed meals or sandwiches, fifteen minutes to eat, and then back to the computer, resigned to their fate.

When Ye Ji’an looked at Liang Xiao, he often thought that this guy seemed full of energy. Many nights, just like him, he missed the last subway and simply slept at his desk until dawn. Ye Ji’an didn’t understand how he managed to stay so energetic. But on one particular day, he looked at himself in the mirror; aside from the dark circles he couldn’t hide, he looked just as fresh and composed, ready to face the big boss if called for a talk.

Well, Ye Ji’an understood now—the universal skill of modern people: looking good on the outside while crumbling on the inside.

However, that young man who despised suicide probably didn’t share the same dog-leash fantasies as he did. What dog leash? The funds weren’t sorted, and the year-end bonus hadn’t been received; I can’t die yet, he thought.

Less than two weeks later, all the documents were approved, and the investor meetings had been held. The days of excessive coffee consumption finally came to an end as Ye Ji’an boarded the flight to Moscow. The seats around him were empty and quiet, and he felt he must sleep peacefully all the way.

According to company policy, Xiao Li from the General Affairs Department had booked him a first-class seat, while the other five were in business class at the back, boarding through a different aisle. Three of them were female colleagues, and the only two males were Deputy Director Chen from the Legal Department and Liang Xiao. Lao Chen was quite experienced but also a patient with three high conditions, so he couldn’t do any heavy lifting, leaving all the physical work to Liang Xiao. Fortunately, when it came time to check in luggage, Ye Ji’an squeezed in to help, preventing this severely sleep-deprived young master from being surrounded by four or five suitcases, struggling to stuff them one by one, looking quite pitiful.

Xiao Li gasped, “Director Ye, you should go sit down! We’re about to take off!”

Ye Ji’an smiled, “There’s still time. It’s over ten degrees below zero in Moscow; did you bring enough clothes?”

“I did! I have a suitcase that’s just filled with a down jacket, super thick,” the freshly graduated translator exclaimed, raising her hand. Clearly, Ye Ji’an’s friendly older brother persona had made a lasting impression.

“Just forgot to check it in, and I need you all to help me carry it… Thank you,” she said, tilting her head slightly, cautiously glancing at the side.

Next to her was Liang Xiao, who was the same age and had joined the company at the same time but seemed much more composed. “I didn’t bother bringing anything thick,” he said, looking at Ye Ji’an’s striped tie, “I plan to buy one at Bykov Airport.”

And what about when you come back? You don’t even have a suitcase; are you just going to leave it at the hotel? If the clothes could foresee their fate, they would surely weep in Moscow. Ye Ji’an suddenly felt he understood Liang Xiao too well. “Alright, make sure to rest well,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets and leisurely returning to his seat.

Just as planned, Ye Ji’an enjoyed a worry-free, high-quality sleep in the air, waking up feeling like the world was beautiful. This beauty lasted until landing, where the clear, open sky met a snow-white city. The snow was so white it appeared blue, covering all the bustling or silent chaos of the city, the good and the bad, the newly built skyscrapers and the old squares, all buried under a vast expanse of purity.

Ye Ji’an loved watching the snow, and the Slavic snow, much like the Slavic people and novels, refreshed him. After settling into the hotel, the six of them bundled up and went out for dinner. The snow began to fall again, hitting the car windows without melting, accumulating into neat particles under the streetlights, each flake seemingly with a different pattern, so beautiful that Ye Ji’an couldn’t help but take out his phone to snap pictures, looking like a tourist marveling at everything.

The company sent a Toyota Alphard to pick them up, speeding down the spacious streets between the castles. Liang Xiao sat in the passenger seat, turning back to silently watch him. The down jacket he bought at the airport was pure black, with a simple design, resembling a sack meant solely for warmth. On Liang Xiao, it exuded a kind of simplicity he had never seen before.

“Have you adjusted to the time difference?” In front of many colleagues, Ye Ji’an couldn’t say anything else.

“Listening to Senior, I was sleeping on the plane,” Liang Xiao replied, his eyes curving into a smile.

“Ha ha, me too,” before putting his phone away, Ye Ji’an secretly sent him a few pictures of the snowflakes he had taken. “We have to start working tomorrow.” That’s what he said.

Liang Xiao nodded, lowering his gaze but remaining silent. A couple of minutes later, his message came back, surprisingly in a few lines of Russian:

And the heart beats in ecstasy,

And for it, once more revived

Both divinity and inspiration,

And life, and tears, and love.

Ye Ji’an had no idea what Liang Xiao was up to, and he didn’t recall him having a second language listed on his resume.

【What does this mean?】 he replied.

【A poem by Pushkin.】 Liang Xiao’s explanation was very concise.

【Seeing the snow made me think of these lines.】 Another message followed.

【OK, I’ll Google it.】

【! I didn’t expect that,】 Liang Xiao turned back, glaring at him, seemingly anxious.

【Didn’t expect what?】 Ye Ji’an met his gaze with amusement.

Liang Xiao quickly lowered his head to type, 【I wanted to translate it for you myself; I could even read it with emotion. Can we do that after work goes smoothly?】

Ye Ji’an thought to himself, what kind of magical code is this that requires such a long ambush? But he decided to indulge the young man’s peculiar and sensitive feelings; after all, at twenty-seven, it was still an age for reading poetry.

【Then I’ll wait for it. Let’s work hard these days.】 He sent it off, and to prove his innocence, he put his phone away under Liang Xiao’s watchful gaze, not touching Google at all.

The expected business trip duration was twelve days. By the sixth day, everything had indeed gone smoothly without any errors, whether in work discussions or private exchanges, making Ye Ji’an hopeful about returning home on time for the New Year. However, he still had two bothersome issues:

First, the food he couldn’t get used to.

Second, the sleepy Liang Xiao.

It wasn’t that Liang Xiao had any morning grumpiness, nor was he sluggish and inefficient; on the contrary, he was still as dedicated as ever, pouring his heart into everything, even occasionally taking on translation work with his fluent yet perplexing Russian. But Ye Ji’an could see that he wasn’t as composed as before; the increasingly dark circles under his eyes and his growing silence indicated that Liang Xiao was suffering from severe sleep deprivation.

“Not sleeping well at night?” Ye Ji’an had asked him.

“Ah? Not really,” Liang Xiao just smiled, “Sometimes when you don’t call me, I can’t get up.”

Why don’t I believe you? You’re just a smooth talker, Ye Ji’an thought.

On the seventh night, Ye Ji’an decided to put his sudden attack into practice. He believed that when meeting someone face-to-face, he could still tell if they had been asleep just a minute ago. He genuinely worried that his talented subordinate might suddenly collapse due to a lack of sleep and care. They were both in single rooms, with Liang Xiao in 402 and he in 404, separated only by Deputy Director Chen from the Legal Department. At two-thirty in the morning, he set an alarm and, amidst the loud snoring from Lao Chen next door, knocked on 402’s door.

As he knocked, Ye Ji’an felt a bit on edge.

“Who is it?” Liang Xiao’s voice came quickly, soft and close, followed by a question in English, then in Russian.

“It’s me,” Ye Ji’an crossed his arms, “Hurry up and open the door for your Ge.” He said it without courtesy.

Footsteps hurriedly approached, and the door lock clicked open. The room was brightly lit, and Liang Xiao was in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt, looking quite soft and clearly suitable for sleeping. He peeked his head out, looking down at Ye Ji’an.

“Didn’t sleep well?” Ye Ji’an raised an eyebrow.

“Did Senior have insomnia?” Liang Xiao looked innocent.

Ye Ji’an was instantly furious, thinking to himself, you little brat are quite good at turning the tables. “Hey, I’m asking if you have insomnia! How many hours have you slept these past few days?”

Liang Xiao was taken aback, and surprisingly, he closed his mouth obediently. Although he didn’t admit it, he also didn’t plan to argue.

“What’s wrong? Is there a problem with the room?” Ye Ji’an felt like a concerned teacher looking out for a student’s health.

“It’s my problem,” Liang Xiao said softly, rubbing his face and stepping back, tightly gripping the doorknob. “Senior, I need to be alone; don’t worry about me.”

Ye Ji’an quickly wedged his elbow in the doorframe before Liang Xiao could close it. Seeing him wince in pain, Liang Xiao immediately gave up resisting and even tried to hold his arm. “I really want to call you a little ancestor,” Ye Ji’an glared at him, tugging at the hem of his shirt, “I’m freezing; let me in quickly.”