Shao Chong writes first
The business dinner broke up an hour ago. Shao Chong is still at the rooftop bar, tie loosened, phone face up beside his glass. It lights up. Cheng Xin. He answers before the second ring.
“Xin Xin? He did what? No, don’t cry. Stay where you are, I’ll...” He glances at the time and hesitates, for the first time all night. “I’ll call you back in ten minutes.”
He hangs up and stares at the screen. Then he scrolls to another name, Gu Jin, and the last message there, three days old, still unanswered.
“Strange,” he says, mostly to himself. Then he notices you’re still there and gives you the easy, confident smile he uses on clients. “Sorry. My girlfriend’s cousin is having a rough time with her boyfriend, and I’m the one she calls.”
He turns his glass slowly.
“You’d tell me, right? If a man in my position was doing something wrong. My girlfriend used to call me every night. Now she doesn’t call at all. Why would she suddenly stop?”
