Tomorrow as Bright as Day – Chapter 30
Chapter 30
The next day, Ming Xi didn’t rush to take Cai Ni to meet Manager Li. Instead, she told Cai Ni to explore the surrounding area—to get a feel for Haigang City, and to learn about local job positions, salary ranges, and required skills.
It was only after Ming Xi herself had found a job that she discovered Haigang had several talent markets where many outsiders came to seek employment. Although Cai Ni’s educational background wasn’t much of an advantage, there was no harm in trying her luck there.
Opportunities were meant to be tested; if one fixated on a single thing from the start, one might miss others along the way. That was why Ming Xi didn’t tell Cai Ni beforehand that Manager Li had already promised her a position.
Telling her right away wouldn’t necessarily be a good idea.
She wanted Cai Ni to experience the job-hunting process first. If Cai Ni couldn’t find something satisfying, only then would she take her to see Manager Li.
Some matters only required a timely helping hand.
Ming Xi wasn’t in a hurry, but Manager Li was. That day, while Ming Xi was working at the counter, Manager Li even came to ask when her friend would arrive. With a calm face and steady tone, Ming Xi replied, “She was delayed by some family matters. It’ll be a few more days.”
Ding Xiao, standing nearby, couldn’t help but admire her composure—especially since Cai Ni was actually hiding out in the dorm.
Fortunately, Manager Li didn’t live in the Longmao dormitory…
Every day Ming Xi left early and returned late; Cai Ni, on the other hand, had no sense of urgency about job hunting—she went out late and came back early.
Like a little wife, she would see Ming Xi off to work early in the morning and wait for her to return at night, cooking delicious food in a small rice cooker in the dormitory.
But even the best of friendships required clear financial boundaries.
Cai Ni refused to take Ming Xi’s money for meals, but Ming Xi still insisted on forcing two hundred yuan into her hands. Later, feeling that wasn’t quite right either, she proposed that they each contribute five hundred yuan to a “friendship fund” for their shared expenses.
Cai Ni readily agreed and even took on the role of “housekeeper.”
That night, when Ming Xi returned from her night shift, Cai Ni had already prepared a delicious stew of pork ribs for her.
At that moment, Ming Xi began to understand why men wanted to get married! Even marrying a “spendthrift” like Cai Ni, she’d already considered herself lucky, not to mention the frugal, hardworking “”…
She called Cai Ni a “spendthrift” because she made Cai Ni go out looking for a job every day, but Cai Ni spent half her time job hunting and the other half shopping.
Cai Ni had only been there a week, but the once-empty dorm was already crammed with all sorts of stuff.
Since Ming Xi had been busy entertaining Cai Ni that week, she hadn’t had time to visit the Anteng Internet Café. Today she worked the early shift, finished sooner than usual, and since Cai Ni was still out “job hunting,” Ming Xi went straight to the café after work.
Almost impatiently, Ming Xi opened a computer and began browsing the latest industry news posted by Jiangliu Dadao on Tianya Forum.
Out of admiration for Jiangliu Dadao, she logged into her OICQ account, ” A Smile Worth a Thousand Golds.”
Coincidentally, the account showed that “Smiling Without Talking” was online.
Normally, Ming Xi would never message him for fear of bothering him. But since he happened to be online today, she couldn’t resist sending a greeting.
From A Smile Worth a Thousand Golds: [Hello, Brother Jiangliu.]
The next second, “Smile Without Talking”, the OICQ account of “Jiangliu Dadao”, replied to her: [Hello, Brother Ximen.]
Ming Xi was delighted and typed another sentence.
A Smile Worth a Thousand Golds: [Brother Jiangliu, excuse me, are you from Haigang?]
Jiangliu Dadao didn’t mention his city in the forum, but from his comments and the information he revealed, Ming Xi had a feeling that he lived not far from where she lived.
Sure enough, “Smiling Without Talking” replied to her: [Yes.]
Ming Xi wanted to tell the other person that she was also in Haigang, but then she thought better of it. His profile clearly stated that he didn’t add female users. She had deliberately posed as a man—“Brother Ximen.” If they ever met in person, wouldn’t that make her look deceitful?
Ming Xi stopped chatting, but ” Smiling Without Talking ” took the initiative to ask her: [Are you also in Haigang?]
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, moving lightly as the soft tapping filled the air.
She typed a line—then deleted it.
After a long hesitation, Ming Xi typed again: [No, I’m not in Haigang.]
She thought a small lie would smooth things over.
But to her surprise—
Jiangliu Dadao, who had never shown much interest in his online supporters, was actually curious about the city she lived in.
[Then where do you live now?] The latest message from “Smiling Without Talking.”Ming Xi was momentarily stumped.
She had mentioned her interest in foreign trade and her good English before, and as “Brother Ximen,” she’d bombarded him with questions.
Naturally, “Brother Ximen” had to live in some coastal metropolis.
Ming Xi pondered for a moment, then typed two characters: [Shenzhen.]
After she sent her answer, “Smiling Without Talking” didn’t respond for a long time.
Maybe he’d gone offline…
Just when Ming Xi thought he was truly offline, he replied.
A polite remark: [Shenzhen is a great place. If you can seize the opportunity, everything will be beneficial.]
She certainly wanted to seize the opportunity.
As she idly clicked around, she discovered that the newly released OICQ 1.5 version had added a voice-chat feature. Curious, she began to explore it and accidentally pressed the call button.
“Beep… beep… beep…”
The chat box on her computer started ringing like a cell phone call.
She thought “Brother Jiangliu” wouldn’t answer, but to her shock, he did.
Suddenly, the two of them entered a voice call, but both remained silent.
Ming Xi was so nervous that she couldn’t breathe, feeling like she was facing a formidable enemy. Her head was buzzing, and it felt like all the blood in her body rushing to her head.
But why didn’t “Brother Jiangliu” say anything? Had he also pressed the answer button by mistake?
For a moment, the atmosphere was eerily quiet.
Someone in the internet cafe was playing China’s first online game. Perhaps because the game was not going well, he cursed twice at the screen, and the sound was picked up by the mic.
Ming Xi’s heart raced. That strange mix of panic and excitement made everything feel startlingly real. It was like walking a tightrope—terrified, yet unable to stop.
Could it be that she really wanted to hear the voice of “Young Master Jiangliu”?
After an unknown amount of time, tick-tick-tick…
It felt as though she could hear the ticking of a clock.
Finally, Ming Xi gripped the mouse and decisively pressed the hang-up button, ending this tormenting voice call.
She pressed the hang-up button, and the other person didn’t say anything.
[Sorry, I didn’t know this button was for a voice call.]In the chat window, “A Smile is Worth a Thousand Golds” explained to “Smiling Without Talking”.
[It’s fine. Sometimes typing is troublesome, and talking is indeed more convenient.] “Smiling Without Talking” replied.Ming Xi was puzzled. If that were the case, why hadn’t he said anything earlier? She wanted to ask, but didn’t dare to—after all, she hadn’t spoken either.
[My voice is terrible, and I’ve caught a bit of a cold. I was too embarrassed to talk.]Ming Xi pondered for a moment, then finally made up a reasonable excuse to “Brother Jiangliu” that wouldn’t make things awkward.
She explained her silence, but “Brother Jiangliu” didn’t, and instead took a step further.
[Compared to chatting online, it’s always more pleasant for kindred spirits to meet and talk in person.]“Smiling Without Talking” sent a message in the chat window.
What did “Brother Jiangliu” mean? Was he asking to meet her?
Ming Xi gritted her teeth and typed: [Yes.]
Once she responded, another message from “Smiling Without Talking” popped up:
[Next Thursday, I’m flying to Shenzhen to visit a factory. I wonder if Brother Ximen is free? We could have morning tea together. I’d also like to meet you in person.]She had really shot herself in the foot.
[I can’t next Thursday! I… just happen to be on a business trip and won’t be in Shenzhen.]It was difficult to make up the first lie, but following the logic, the second one was much easier.
She was not in Shenzhen, so how could she go for morning tea?
To make it sound less like she was avoiding him, Ming Xi added another line:
[Maybe next time. When I get the chance to visit Haigang, I’ll treat you to a meal instead, Brother Jiangliu.] [Alright.]A single, brief “alright,” but it carried a faint note of reluctance.
“Smiling Without Talking” finally stopped pressing “A Smile Worth a Thousand Golds” to meet offline.
Or rather, Liang Jiancheng finally stopped pressing Ming Xi.
Afterwards, “Smiling Without Talking” left these words: [Fate will bring us together again.]
“A Smile Worth a Thousand Golds” was completely relieved and quickly replied: [Fate will bring us together again! I’ll always be waiting on the forum for Brother Jiangliu’s posts—I’m your most devoted fan!]
Ming Xi also took the opportunity to jokingly confess, using the internet buzzword “fans”. The term, derived from the English fans, used to mean “star chaser,” but had now replaced that phrase entirely.
To her, following “Jiangliu Dadao’s” posts on the forum did make her a little fan, didn’t it?
Being an online fan was nice—no differences in status, no awkwardness between man and woman, just a pure meeting of minds. He was “Brother Jiangliu,” and she was “Brother Ximen.”
Now that they wouldn’t be meeting, she felt completely at ease!
Since meeting each other was impossible, of course she had to say something nice. After all, what were the chances that Young Master Jiangliu could trace her through the internet?
Thinking so, Ming Xi finally relaxed, her lips curving into a bright, genuine smile.
…
Indeed, he couldn’t reach the person through the internet, but he could confirm a person’s identity.
Liang Jiancheng himself hadn’t expected that the online stranger whose identity he’d been quietly trying to verify would turn out to be the most intriguing person to appear in his life, work, and even his thoughts over the past twenty-something years of his life—
Ming Xi.
In the vast sea of people, the other person added him on OICQ with a pseudonym. Liang Jiancheng couldn’t have guessed that “A Smile Worth a Thousand Gold” was Ming Xi. It was just that the more they communicated, the more the image he formed of this person began to resemble her.
At first, he truly believed “Brother Ximen” was a young man.
His doubts began when he noticed small inconsistencies: every time he posted on the forum, “Brother Ximen” would appear—warm, curious, and full of energy. But in speaking about gender, “he” slipped up again and again.
A man would never go out of his way to emphasize that he was a man—unless, of course, he wasn’t. Even someone as smart as her made such a mistake with this basic logic, she still made such a mistake—it must be a case of too smart for your own good.
Later, from “Brother Ximen’s” responses to economic discussions, Liang Jiancheng deduced that she was in Haigang.
Economics was an interesting field: people from different cities perceived it differently. Haigang’s business culture was unique in China; just a few turns of phrase in a conversation could betray where someone was from.
From those exchanges, he concluded that this person was quick-witted, bright, but still a little green—probably around twenty years old. Perhaps she hadn’t attended a proper university, judging from her imprecise terminology, yet her insights were always vivid and on point.
Such people were rare, and he only knew one.
Of course, he couldn’t rely solely on suspicion. The reason why he could determine the other person’s address was because there was information under each message in the forum, and “Brother Ximen” certainly didn’t know that the IP address could reveal a user’s city.
Just now, she had even gone out of her way to lie—saying she lived in Shenzhen.
And finally—how had he confirmed that “Brother Ximen” on the forum and the “A Smile Worth a Thousand Gold” who added him on OICQ was Ming Xi?
He had uploaded a data pack on the forum, inviting anyone interested to leave an email address.
Curious and eager as always, she hadn’t resisted the temptation.
Even the smartest people slipped up sometimes.
The email she left was the very same one she’d once used to send him her résumé.
Had she forgotten?
Liang Jiancheng was slightly nearsighted and wore glasses when he surfs the internet. At this moment, the study was so quiet that only the slight hum of the CPU fan could be heard. Leaning back in his leather chair, he tilted his head against the rest, eyes half-closed. His long lashes cast soft shadows over his lids, and the corner of his mouth curved upward unconsciously.
Interesting. Truly, delightfully interesting.
How could there be such a coincidental fate and encounter in this world.
Liang Jiancheng raised his hand and took off the gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, absently wiped the faint moisture from the corner of his eye.
His emotions rarely swayed. Not even the thrill of scaling a mountain peak compared to this—this sudden, impossible exhilaration. An indescribable feeling surged in his heart, as if his heart had never beaten so vividly and powerfully as tonight.
[Fate will bring us together again! I’ll always be waiting on the forum for Brother Jiangliu’s posts—I’m your most devoted fan!]That line in the chat window—he read it three times.
Calmness was, after all, the foundation of Liang Jiancheng’s nature.
When he looked at the computer screen again, his expression was serene, almost impassive. Only his eyes, clear and narrow, carried a faint glint—sharp as a hawk’s.
Of all his features, his eyes resembled his mother’s most. The shape and the gaze were very similar to Gu Shuangyang.
After a long pause, the man’s long, well-defined fingers once again fell on the neat keyboard. He typed a simple reply: [Thank you for your support, it’s my honor.]
Liang Jiancheng’s hand joints were slightly raised, but not abrupt, with a somewhat just-right bony elegance. At this moment, he gently retracted his hand. Regardless of his movements or demeanor, the whole person regained his usual air of restraint and composure.
The curtains of the study were half open; fragments of sunset spilled into a corner of the spacious and simple study.
A warm yellow glow from the desk lamp softened the edges of everything.
…
On the other side of the city, in Anteng Internet Cafe, Ming Xi faced a smaller computer screen, her hands resting on the computer desk, gently supporting her chin.
Looking at the eight words left by “Brother Jiangliu” in the chat window, she nearly squealed aloud.
Tilting her head, she couldn’t help but grin.
Her mood suddenly felt light, bright, and buoyant—she almost wanted to whistle. But since she was in a public space, she settled for blowing a soft puff of air, which made the fine fringe at her forehead dance slightly.
Anteng Internet Cafe had a quiet environment. The lady boss had just replaced the curtains. The thick patterned linen curtains were drawn half open, revealing a layer of soft and fine white gauze underneath.
At this moment, the evening breeze from the street outside slipped gently through the open window, lifting the gauze in a soft, fluttering wave.
Beyond the window, the wind murmured—shhh, shhh—like a quiet sigh.