We Will Meet Again

The warm beach spanned below the bronze-tainted sky. A girl stood upon the side, a boy a head taller than her standing opposite. They were placed quite a distance apart, giving off an air of unfamiliarity between them. But they were far from unfamiliar.

The girl looked a little upset, furrowing her brows under the setting sun. The boy watched her carefully, letting himself take in all the details of her face as if it was the last time he would see her. The last of the sunlight cast shadows across her skin, reflecting into her dark eyes. She looked beautiful, he thought, yearning to reach forward to pull her in and kiss those soft lips.

She called his name, her voice steady. He responded with a small, sad smile.

She drank him in: the messy hair, broad shoulders, gentle gaze. What she would do to lie in his arms again. But this care-free, senseless boy was never meant to be hers. She had to let go.

The boy knew what was coming next and the result of today's meeting. He bit down on his tongue and remained unmoved.

The girl sighed, whispering finally, "Let's break up."

He had been waiting for those words for far too long.

"From today onwards, we have nothing to do with each other - nothing more than acquaintances." Not even a hint of remorse appeared in her tone.

His smile only grew, but so did the wound she had left in his chest. Trying to keep his voice calm, the boy replied, "Is this all because I'm moving to America? I've promised you before: I will return."

The girl shook her head. "No, it has nothing to do with your move to America. I just think it's best we live our own lives from now on; you don't owe me and I don't owe you." If an outsider witnessed this, they would claim the girl was heartless, not even a sliver of emotion in her eyes.

The boy dipped his head to the ground.

"I'm sorry," the girl murmured, though she knew the wound was already too deep to heal. "I don't think we shouldn't see each other anymore."

The boy grinned suddenly, one so heart-wrenching it caught the girl off guard for a moment. He took a short step forward. "Don't worry," he answered. "If that's what you want, when I do eventually return, I will not come and find you."

His gaze darted to the girl's lips, daring another step. "But you should know better than anyone..." he said so quietly that the girl had to strain her ears to hear.

"We will meet again."

- - - -

Six years later.

Fang Lingyi raised her eyes to the television screen hanging above her desk as an image of a news reporter flickered to life, noise of cars resounding in the background. She paused her work, setting down her pen before turning in her chair to look at her best friend, standing at the doorway remote control in hand.

"Liu Anqing," she called out, folding her arms over her chest. "Didn't I say not to watch these nonsense channels?"

Anqing frowned, sheepishly tucking away the remote control as if it could hide the fact that she was watching anything at all. "It's completely fine with me if you don't like watching TV, but controlling what others watch instead is slightly unreasonable, don't you think? And plus, this is the news!"

Lingyi pushed up from her chair, pointing at the TV with a raised eyebrow. "Miss Liu, you shouldn't always trust everything these reporters say. Last time they claimed YR had gone bankrupt, but look at them now; they've reached the top of the Board."

If Fang Lingyi carried on with her lecture, Liu Anqing may really have burst into tears, but with a quiet sigh, she said with a joking air, "As a gifted math teacher, I thought you would be smarter than this."

Anqing latched onto Lingyi's arm with a pout, what she did whenever she was currying for forgiveness. "Oh, my dear best friend, don't be angry. You've worked so hard all day, why don't you let me make you a cup of tea?" But before Lingyi could react, her best friend was already bounding into the kitchen, leaving her to sit by herself with the sound of the news reporter whirring behind her.

This woman - she would do anything to get out of trouble, Lingyi thought with a small laugh.

With Anqing gone for the moment, she was free to reach for the disregarded remote and turn to switch the TV off.

But the image on the screen made her stop in her tracks, her face suddenly going pale.

"After his success in America, twenty-six-year-old Qiao Zeyan has returned to continue his own company and brand here in China, said to be the biggest and most challenging competitor YR will face in 50 years," the reporter explained, gesturing at the photo pasted in the corner.

Lingyi's chest clenched.

He looked different - far too different - from six years ago: taller, hair less scruffy but still unruly, and the details of his face sharpened, revealing a straight nose, strong jawline, high cheekbones. And the look in his narrowed dark eyes - it had become more feral, more dangerous. If it wasn't for the name displayed on the screen, she would never have known it was him.

The photo vanished a minute later, replaced with a short video showing Qiao Zeyan striding across the airport, a black mask and sunglasses veiling his face from paparazzi. He was in a long overcoat, designer pants, and white shoes that padded noiselessly across the floor. He carried himself differently, too, gait powerful and distant. Assisstants and men in black suits were crowding around him, driving away eager fans who could be heard screaming in the background. The man only walked on, not even turning once to look at the flashing cameras around him.

This wasn't the Qiao Zeyan she knew.

"We will meet again"...

He couldn't really be back, could he?

He'd said he wouldn't come and find her again, but a single fragment of her heart wished that he would.

Lingyi hastily pushed that thought away.

She couldn't be with him. Not then, not now, not ever.

"Lingyi?" a voice snatched her back to reality. She spun and found Liu Anqing already holding a steaming cup of tea in one hand while the other was waving frantically in front of Lingyi's face, trying to capture her attention.

Smoothly, Lingyi's finger found the power button on the remote and the TV screen went black. She offered a tight smile and took the tea gratefully. "Thanks, Anqing," she said before taking a small sip. The hot liquid spilled into her stomach and left a warm feeling inside her, pacifying the chaos in her mind.

Anqing's eyes were still on Lingyi when she asked, "How is the company doing? Are you still getting too much work from your boss?"

"No, I've managed okay these past few days, though there is a few more papers I have to finish organizing in time for the conference the day after tomorrow. But other than that, my hands are empty," Lingyi answered, taking another gulp of tea. "How about you? How are your students?"

Anqing sat herself down on the sofa, leaning into the cushions. "I don't even want to mention them. They're doing terribly. If any of them fail this year, I can kiss my job goodbye."

"You can always come and work at the company."

Anqing scrunched her face up into a look of disgust. "I never liked your line of work, staying in a boring office all day reading emails."

Before either of them could exchange another word, the sound of Lingyi's phone ringing cut through their conversation. She grabbed it from the table, glancing at the caller ID with a concerned look on her face.

"Hello, Director Li?"

"Lingyi, do you have the papers I asked you to organize last week?" Lingyi's boss spoke from the other end.

"Yes, they are here with me," Lingyi responded, clutching the phone to her ear, eyes drifting to the folder sitting safely on her desk.

Director Li chuckled in relief. "That's good. Do you mind sending them to my office before three o'clock? The conference has reschduled to today."

Lingyi turned her head to look directly at the clock. She had less than half an hour to file the rest of the papers, reach the company headquarters and deliver the contents. Her heart lurched in panic.

"T-Three o'clock?" Fang Lingyi echoed, clearly alarmed.

"Yes, three o'clock, If you don't have any other queries, I'll end the call now. Just remember to bring the papers on time." Without another word, her phone clicked off and the only sound became that of speeding cars below the apartment building.

She was done for.