Starlight Descends - 6
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Some people have no idea they've already been marked as "suspicious" by a certain married man with a sharp eye.
Yu Jiashu grabbed his car keys, headed downstairs, and drove to the tech park.
At Zhou Qi’s new place, he’d been roped into playing video games late into the night. “Unwinding”, they said. Sure, they could sleep in the next day, he still had to work.
Outside the car window, the high-tech zone looked crisp and bright. Glass towers rose from the ground, gleaming under the clear sky.
His hand rested loosely on the steering wheel, knuckles distinct, fingers long and lean. Thin skin stretched over the joints. A faint mole between his fingers appeared and vanished with each movement.
Yu Jiashu’s gaze swept over the rearview mirror, catching the dark circles shadowing his eyes. Arching an eyebrow slightly, he stopped by the convenience store downstairs for a coffee.
The clerk was still Xiao Tao, though perhaps because it was daytime, the twenty-year-old girl wasn't sneaking peeks at dramas or openly ogling the handsome customer, her head lowered properly as she rang him up.
Yu Jiashu waited at the counter to pay. His eyes flicked to the beverage cooler.
Glass bottles of orange soda, with simple English lettering on the label. On hot days, pulled fresh from the cooler, the chill turned to mist on the glass.
That clear liquid sloshing against the glass walls had always made a crisp sound, the sound of summer.
It was the drink he’d bought most often back in his student days.
For some reason, Yu Jiashu suddenly thought of slender fingers wrapped around that bottle.
In a daze, he seemed to see that thin, slight figure again, reflected on the glossy surface behind the register.
A baseball cap covered most of her face, leaving only a pretty, soft jawline. Light chestnut hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, soft as clouds.
Her voice that called his name was very light, yet it seemed to hold a thousand words.
Yu Jiashu lowered his lashes, his mind drifting slightly.
"CEO Yu."
"Boss."
The girl at the front desk and a passing admin assistant, both in sharp professional attire, their high heels clicking sharply, smiled and greeted him softly.
He gave a slight nod, passed through the long corridor, and pushed open the meeting room door. A few people inside were slumped in their seats, a deck of cards still not put away.
"I gotta say, the only presentable faces in this entire company are our admin girls and you," the head of R&D quipped.
Yu Jiashu swept his gaze around the room, pulled out the chair at the head of the table, and sat. "If you didn't lose to two different people at poker, you'd be pretty presentable yourself."
The room erupted in laughter.
Someone laughed, then sighed with a touch of nostalgia. "How time flies, Jingfan has come all this way. We really thought Shu was just starting a company for fun back then. Who knew it would get to where it is today."
"No kidding. What other company has an atmosphere like ours? We’ve all been in the trenches together since college."
"And there's Da Bai and that kid Zhou Qi. We were all roped in by him. Think about it, Shu was only a junior when he started the company. We followed him to the lab day and night, designing and building nonstop, and damn if we didn't have patents by senior year."
"Then the guy finishes his master's and the company goes public. What can I say? Pick the right boss, and you're halfway to a successful life."
"Alright, cut the flattery." Yu Jiashu let out a faint, dry laugh, rapping his knuckles on the table. "Down to business, first."
The meeting room wasn't large. It wasn't like the flashy, gigantic tables in TV dramas, with people in suits sitting on opposing sides, locked in confrontation, undercurrents swirling.
Jingfan didn't have that many rules.
The room was tidy and orderly. On both sides sat a rather unrestrained bunch, fewer than ten in total. Some had bothered to wear button-downs; the rest showed up in T-shirts and jeans. But that didn't stop them from being serious and professional once they dropped their rowdy act.
Yu Jiashu leaned back in his chair and laid out the topic in a low, steady voice.
From initial proposal to final application, chip development broadly splits into two phases: design and manufacturing.
Jingfan wasn't a massive company. Accordingly, its core structure had been cleanly divided into design and manufacturing departments since its founding, a structure that persisted to this day.
Chip design generally involves front-end and back-end. The former focuses on software and logic, the domain of Zhou Qi and Da Bai. The latter leaned towards process engineering, requiring adaptations based on the chip manufacturer's capabilities.
In this era of rapid technological advancement, chip design was no longer China's biggest bottleneck. The downstream, manufacturing-centric side of the chip industry was the weakest link in the domestic integrated circuit sector.
Add in international tensions, the power games between nations, endless economic sanctions and restrictions, and the situation were even grimmer.
Jingfan zeroed in on this point, placing extraordinary emphasis on chip manufacturing processes. The manufacturing department’s headcount was several times that of the design department, encompassing talents from academia and industry in materials, engineering, physics, chemistry, and optics.
The meeting wasn't the theatrical sword-crossing depicted in TV shows, but it was far from relaxed.
From project goals and feasibility to implementation plans, the young group in that room didn't stop for a moment. They exchanged ideas at a near-shouting pitch. Behind their hoarse voices and countless discarded drafts lay grand ambition and heartfelt loyalty.
The autumn sun moved from east to its zenith, then slowly sank westward. The office tower's vast shadow shifted with the daylight, growing long and then short, stretched across the street by the setting sun.
The glass windows of the building reflected a thousand sunsets. Crowds at the subway station gathered and dispersed, finally thinning to silence. The meeting's discussions finally drew to a close.
Two cups of black Americano sat empty beside him. Yu Jiashu rubbed the back of his stiff neck with his right hand, leaned back in his chair, and delivered his final verdict, voice slightly hoarse and subdued.
With that, Jingfan's operating system and software processor plan for the next quarter was officially set in stone.
Everyone's voices were raw. They slouched wearily in their chairs, cupping their water glasses, a huge weight silently lifting from their chests. In the quiet aftermath, they exchanged involuntary glances and suddenly broke into grins.
"Shu, not being here to keep an eye on things next quarter, you at ease? Not afraid we'll run your company into the ground?"
Hearing this, Yu Jiashu let a lazy smirk tug at his lips. "Wreck it if you want. I'll take responsibility."
"Can't wreck it. It's our blood and sweat." The man who'd spoken smiled, but it faded quickly into a low sigh. "Gonna miss you, man. Do good work over at your dad's place."
"It's not like I'm leaving for good." Yu Jiashu raised an eyebrow. "Just going to lead a project at the old man's request. I'm still the boss. Still sign your paychecks."
"Are you crying? God, you're such a wimp." The person next to him suddenly smacked his shoulder.
The man wiped his eyes furiously. "Piss off. My eyes are just itchy."
In truth, it wasn't just him. Everyone there was feeling some kind of way.
Jingfan had come so far, and Yu Jiashu's contribution was there for everyone to see. Yet some people were blind, thinking that just because they held a whole business empire in their hands, they could look down on this small company.
"Alright." Yu Jiashu lifted his chin slightly, his tone still lazy. "You're all getting a raise next month."
Amidst the cheers, he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door, his expression as calm and steady as ever. Only when he passed Jingfan's giant logo did he pause for two seconds.
In that instant, it felt like he was back in the university lab, a few of them crammed together, endlessly coding and debugging programs, running circuit analysis day and night.
Yu Jiashu didn't turn his head. He just paused, almost imperceptibly, then strode out on his long legs.
·
Early autumn in C City was still stifling. The day's lingering heat was hard to bear, and only when night fell did a hint of autumn's flavor emerge.
Qi Yao worked at home for a while. Around seven in the evening, she changed into a fresh outfit, applied a light makeup, and led the German Shepherd on its leash to knock on the door across the hall.
"The floor's not mopped, the food's not cooked. What exactly was the point of your day off? Might as well go back and work overtime. At least there you get good food and good sleep and it helps you lose weight."
The person who opened the door was a woman, about thirty, with big waves in her hair and a white blazer, exuding a bold, confident charm.
One second she was reeling off a rapid-fire scolding over her shoulder but the second she turned and saw Qi Yao, she visibly froze, eyes widening, her expression shifting rapidly into delighted surprise.
"Oh my, Yao-mei's here!"
Fang Qian’s reason only allowed her a two-second hesitation before reaching out to pull Qi Yao inside, gushing in an excited whisper, "Yesterday when Da Bai said he saw you, I didn't believe him. So it's really you! You're even more gorgeous in person!"
"Come on in, Yao-mei, make yourself at home! It's all home cooking. Hope you'll like it," Da Bai called out in welcome. "This is my wife."
After exchanging a few words with Fang Qian, Qi Yao quickly got a sense of his standing in the household. Seeing Da Bai's droopy, henpecked expression, she stifled a laugh. "Sure."
The dining table was a simple white one. They took their seats on either side. Zhou Qi took the head, and Fang Qian and Da Bai sat opposite Qi Yao.
The table was laden with carefully arranged dishes, the colors and aromas promising a good meal, immediately whetting the appetite.
"You made all this?" Qi Yao asked quietly.
"How could that be possible?" Zhou Qi was startled and leaned in to whisper, "The couple did it all. I tried to help in the kitchen, but they shooed me out."
"That's because your help was more like sabotage," Fang Qian said. "Things like throwing the chopped scallions in the trash and keeping the roots, or grabbing vinegar instead of soy sauce." She huffed, which made Zhou Qi pout and set the whole table laughing.
“Alright. Let's toast little Zhou Qi first, young as he is, already a homeowner!”
Da Bai raised his glass, arm outstretched. Everyone politely raised their glasses to clink.
Fang Qian: "Congratulations on the new place. Big future ahead.”
"We're neighbors now, kid," Qi Yao added.
The glasses clinked together with a crisp sound.
Zhou Qi didn't speak, just took a huge gulp. He choked a little, maybe the liquor was too strong, or maybe something else; his face flushed bright red, even the rims of his eyes a little pink.
Qi Yao had been worried the clear liquid in her glass was also alcohol. She took a cautious sip and was relieved to find it was Sprite.
"And, we need to thank our Yao-mei for gracing us ordinary neighbors with her presence at our little get-together!"
Da Bai cheerfully poured more drinks for himself and Zhou Qi. A single, understated glance from Fang Qian made his hand tremble, and he only filled the glasses halfway before raising it again.
"Don't worry, we know the lines and won't leak your privacy. May you have a smooth road to stardom!"
Zhou Qi was much more professional, saying seriously, "May you receive all the endorsements, an unending stream of scripts, land the projects that you love, and a happy rise to the A-list."
Fang Qian: "May your range as an actress broaden, and that all the male leads you work with are super, super handsome."
Qi Yao held her glass with her fingers together, her feelings momentarily complex.
Since her debut, she'd been to plenty of gatherings: drama wrap parties, variety show launches, company events. Never once had it been a completely private dinner at home with people outside the industry.
They had no ulterior motives, no hidden agendas. They could only offer her their most sincere blessings based on their own understanding of the entertainment world. The feeling was strange, and also deeply… comforting.
Pressing her lips together, she raised her glass to clink with everyone and said with sincerity, "Thank you."
"Okay, okay, don't be so stiff or Yao-mei won't dare to come back." Fang Qian raised her chopsticks with a smile, signaling everyone to start eating.
Qi Yao served herself a small half-bowl of rice and listened to them talk as she ate.
Fang Qian had a good sense of boundaries. She didn’t pry for gossip or ask bizarre questions about entertainment industry secrets, just chatted with her lightly.
"So, can you guys really eat anything and not get fat?"
"Of course not." Qi Yao waved a hand. "It's just what the camera demands. We eat less and exercise more, that's all."
After a thought, she added, "Maybe some people are naturally thin. I'm definitely not one of them."
"Kid, look, it's not that your bro is nagging, but you're at the age to start dating. In a few more years, it'll be time to settle down," Da Bai sipped his wine slowly, his tone tinged with elder-brotherly concern. "Don't blame me for sticking my nose in. You need someone in your life. You and Shu, both of you.”
Zhou Qi, for once, didn't snap back at him. He just shot him a hesitant glance, his lips twitching slightly.
"Hey," Da Bai suddenly remembered something. "Didn't you say you had a crush on a girl back in high school? Which school was it, Community Middle?”
"It wasn't a crush!" Zhou Qi choked, coughing until his face was red, frantically trying to shut Da Bai down.
"Hm?" Qi Yao, who had been talking about her new drama with Fang Qian, turned her head at the sound. "You went to Community Middle School?"
Zhou Qi nodded.
Qi Yao's peach blossom eyes seemed to sparkle. She looked at him with a touch of pleased surprise. "So you're my junior."
Zhou Qi hesitated for two seconds. His fingers tightened around his glass. "Actually," he said softly, "I've known you since middle school…"
Maybe he really was a little drunk. His words came out haltingly, his gaze drifting, even his ears reddening.
"Hm? What did you say?" Qi Yao leaned a bit closer.
With a beautiful face so near, Zhou Qi stammered even worse, unable to force out a single word. Luckily, the doorbell rang, coming to his rescue.
He shot up from his seat so fast he knocked a pair of chopsticks to the floor. "I'll get it."
Qi Yao and Fang Qian looked at each other.
"That kid," Fang Qian muttered, heading into the kitchen to get him a fresh chopsticks.
The sound of the door opening drifted, followed by Zhou Qi's surprised and excited call, "Bro! Meeting's over?"
Qi Yao's heart lurched violently. Her grip on her chopsticks tightened instantly.
A man's faint response came, then the rustling sound of fabric, and the soft thud of a gift bag being set down on a cabinet.
"A gift for you."
Yu Jiashu stepped slowly from the foyer into the living room, nodding a greeting to Fang Qian. When his gaze landed on the dinner table, he paused for two seconds.
Qi Yao had applied a light layer of makeup tonight. Her long hair was smooth and she was dressed simply, not overly formal, not too casual. The fitted grey top made her skin look even fairer, almost glowing under the dining room's overhead lights.
She lifted her peach blossom eyes and looked over quietly.
Her eyes was clear and bright.
For no reason at all, Yu Jiashu suddenly regretted not buying that bottle of orange soda.
He paused for a single beat, then walked straight toward her.
A long, lean hand grasped the back of the chair and gently pulled it back. The pale mole on the side of his finger appeared and vanished with the movement.
The subtle, crisp scent of mint lingered in the air. He sat down beside her, like a cool breeze settling next to her, pulling her from early autumn straight back into the high of summer.
Qi Yao's heart hammered like a drum. Unable to resist, she lowered her eyes and stole a look at him from the edges of her vision.
A cool, striking profile. A high nose bridge.
They were so close. The ten-something centimeters between them felt like a separate dimension, where time moved on its own, lending the scene the glow of déjà vu, a Filter of memory.
Just like that seat years ago, brought together by a strange twist of fate.
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