Guide to Rising to Power as a Wife in Beijing's Elite Circle

After the winter vacation officially started, Chen Nuo's schedule became more regular.

Every morning at nine o'clock, she would arrive at Liu Qingsong's editing studio on time.

The documentary has entered the post-production stage, and she mainly organizes the materials and checks the script.

It's tedious, but you can learn something from it.

Liu Qingsong became increasingly satisfied with her.

"Xiao Chen, do you think this shot is appropriate to be placed here?" One afternoon, Liu Qingsong asked her, pointing to the editing screen.

Chen Nuo looked at it carefully for a few seconds: "If we follow the timeline, this laboratory scene should be placed in the third segment. But if we follow the emotional progression, placing it at the end of the second segment might be more impactful. Jumping directly from theoretical breakthrough to practical application will stir up the audience's emotions."

Liu Qingsong stared at the screen for a while, then nodded: "That makes sense. Let's change it as you said."

This was the first time since she joined the crew that Liu Qingsong had fully adopted her suggestions.

During work breaks, Chen Nuo would take out his phone to check it.

The time spent in the pinned chat window on WeChat is getting longer and longer.

"Brother Xiu, Director Liu adopted my suggestion today, I'm so happy~" followed by a cat spinning emoji.

Sending time: 11:00 AM.

No reply.

"The pork rib soup in the cafeteria is delicious. Please remember to eat on time." 1 p.m.

No reply.

"It's so cold in Jingjing today, wear more clothes if you're working overtime." 7 PM.

No reply.

Chen Nuo held his phone, his heart sinking deeper and deeper.

She knew Fang Jingxiu was busy. It was the end of the year, and the National Development and Reform Commission must be very busy.

But even when he was busy before, he would at least reply with an "um" or a simple emoji.

But now...

Nowadays, everyone is glued to their phone. Even if someone is busy, they still need to reply to work messages. It's impossible for them to never check their phone. There's only one possibility: they don't want to reply.

Chen Nuo took a deep breath and exited the WeChat interface.

Maybe he really is very busy.

That's all she could tell herself.

The editing studio was well-heated, but Chen Nuo felt a bit cold. She tightened her sweater and continued checking the script.

"Xiao Chen," Liu Qingsong suddenly called to her, "there's an industry exchange meeting tomorrow afternoon, you'll come with me."

Chen Nuo was taken aback: "Me?"

"Hmm." Liu Qingsong didn't even look up. "It doesn't hurt to know more people."

"...Okay, thank you, Director Liu."

She knew this was an opportunity.

Liu Qingsong introduced her to the industry.

But why can't she be happy?

At nine o'clock in the evening, Chen Nuo returned to his rented room.

She boiled a kettle of water, sat on the sofa with a cup in her arms, and couldn't resist taking out her phone.

The dialog box remains the same.

She hesitated for a long time before typing: "Brother Xiu, are you still busy?"

send.

Then she stared at the screen and waited.

One minute, two minutes, ten minutes...

No reply.

Chen Nuo put down her phone and buried her face in her knees.

She knew something had changed.

From the day she moved out of the ministry compound, no, from even earlier. From the day after dinner when he drove her home and reminded her to lock the door.

Some things are quietly cooling down.

---

At the same time, in the ministry compound.

Fang Jingxiu stood in the bedroom, holding the freshly changed bed sheets and duvet cover in his hand.

The light gray four-piece bedding set was the one Chen Nuo had slept in. Her scent still lingered on it—sweet orange and cedar, mixed with a hint of a girl's clean body fragrance.

He took a deep breath, then expressionlessly stuffed the sheets into the laundry bag.

He carried the laundry bag to the balcony, stuffed all the sheets and duvet covers into the washing machine, poured in double the amount of detergent, and pressed the start button.

The drum started to turn, and the water made a gurgling sound.

Fang Jingxiu stood on the balcony and lit a cigarette.

On a winter night in Jingjing, the balcony was as cold as an icebox. But he didn't go inside; he just leaned against the railing, slowly smoking.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

He took it out and saw it was Chen Nuo.

"Brother Xiu, are you still busy?"

A simple sentence, followed by no expression or coquettishness.

Fang Jingxiu stared at that sentence for a long time.

My fingertip hovered over the screen, wanting to go back, but I held back.

Finally, he locked his phone and put it back in his pocket.

I was halfway through smoking when my phone vibrated again.

This time it was Secretary Qin: "Director Fang, the project materials for the Lin family have arrived and are already in your office."

He replied, "Understood."

It's concise and to the point, with no superfluous words.

Just like his attitude towards Chen Nuo these past few days.

Fang Jingxiu stubbed out his cigarette and went back inside.

The washing machine was still running, and inside the drum, the sheets and blankets that Chen Nuo had slept on were being rinsed repeatedly with water and laundry detergent.

Just like those inappropriate thoughts he was trying to wash away.

He went into the study, turned on the computer, and forced himself to look at the documents.

But I can never concentrate.

The image of Chen Nuo would flash through my mind.

The way she looked at him while cooking, her bright eyes when she looked at him, her soft and sweet voice when she called him Brother Xiu.

And that night, downstairs, when she looked up at him, her eyes were filled with complete trust and reliance.

Fang Jingxiu closed his eyes.

This can't go on.

She was only twenty-two years old; her life had just begun.

She should have a pure romance, hold hands with boys her own age, go shopping, watch movies, and do everything that a girl her age should do.

Instead of getting entangled with someone like him who is full of scheming and whose future is uncertain.

He can't give her a future.

His marriage will most likely be a political alliance arranged by his family. His wife will be the daughter of a political commissar, and she will need to be both capable and have a strong background to be a good daughter-in-law in the Fang family.

And Chen Nuo...

She was too clean, too pure, and her background was also undesirable.

I shouldn't have gotten involved in this mess.

Fang Jingxiu took a deep breath and looked back at the computer screen.

But those densely packed words seemed to have lost their meaning at this moment.

My phone vibrated again.

He picked it up almost immediately...

It's a message from the work group.

Fang Jingxiu stared at the screen and suddenly found it ridiculous.

At 29 years old, he's acting like a young boy, getting flustered over a single WeChat message.

He put down his phone and continued reading the documents.

But I can't concentrate on reading a single word.

The washing machine stopped at 11 o'clock.

Fang Jingxiu went to the balcony and took out the washed sheets and duvet cover. The scent of the laundry detergent was very strong, overpowering the original scent that belonged to Chen Nuo.

He unfolded each item and hung them on the clothes rack.

The light gray bed sheet fluttered in the night wind, like a white flag of surrender.

After hanging up the last item, Fang Jingxiu returned to his bedroom.

The newly changed bed sheets and duvet cover are dark blue, a cold and hard color, without any extraneous feel.

He lay down and turned off the light.

In the darkness, only his own breathing could be heard.

It lacks the aroma of sweet orange and cedar.

It doesn't taste like her.

Fang Jingxiu closed his eyes and forced himself to fall asleep.

But then that thought flashed through my mind again.

Is she asleep? Is the rented room cold? Are the doors and windows locked?

He wanted to ask on his phone.

But I held back.

You can't ask.

Once I asked, all my restraint over the past few days was wasted.

He turned over and buried his face in the pillow.

The pillow is new and smells of sunshine, but it feels unfamiliar.

Unlike the one she had slept in, which had her scent, was soft and warm.

Fang Jingxiu opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling in the darkness.

He knew what he was doing.

I also know that doing so is the right thing to do.

But why...?

Why do I feel so empty inside?

It looks like a piece is missing.

Outside the window, the winter night in Jingjing is long and quiet.

Two people, separated by half a city, were in their respective rooms, eyes wide open, waiting for dawn.

One is waiting for a reply.

One is waiting for themselves to calm down.

They had no idea how long this cooling-off period would last.

I wonder if, when spring comes, some things will be able to go back to what they were before.