Chapter 85: Five-Star Hotel

Staring at the bustling avenue, Lin Xia was momentarily dazed, as if her entire life had finally parted ways with her previous existence. Was this truly the life she desired?

Seeing her fall silent, Chen Qing chuckled. “Are you alright?”

“I’m just worried whether I can really adapt to the life in such a vibrant city,” Lin Xia replied with a gentle smile. “It’s just...”

She was afraid, and at a loss.

In her previous life, she had loved a song called “Invisible Wings.” Every time she listened to it, a faint sadness would wash over her heart. Life was full of experiences, yet a single phrase could never encapsulate it all. During lonely times, when tears threatened and there was no one to lean on, she always longed for a strong shoulder to support her.

But back then, she had to swallow her loneliness and bitterness, forcing herself to be strong.

Her parents were aging. They were no longer the towering figures she admired as a child. Only then did she understand both the love and the pain of parents.

It was in that moment that she truly grew up.

Her high school years in Rong City were marked by small cliques among the girls, which left Lin Xia with invisible but enormous wounds. Even after university and entering the workforce, she never regained the confidence and resilience she had lost.

Being reborn, she could see many things with new clarity.

For example, the articles she poured her heart into—if not for the encouragement from friends like Ren Jie, she might never have found the courage or confidence to send them out.

Even with her experience, far greater than others her age, she never dared slack off academically and studied with fierce determination. Despite having more achievements at work than her colleagues, she never allowed herself laziness; her manuscripts always arrived ahead of schedule, needing no reminders from the editors.

Facing Chen Zi Mo, she dared not say or think too much, burying her feelings deep within.

She worked tirelessly to accumulate assets, fearing everything might turn out to be nothing but an illusion.

Even with a special space at her disposal, she used it sparingly. Rather than relying on miraculous external things, she preferred to depend on herself. Only personal strength was truly reliable.

In front of Xie Xitong and the others, she was seldom talkative or lively like the trio; she always sat quietly, smiling in a corner, watching them laugh and banter.

The psychological barrier was not easily overcome, and she could not fully connect with them. They could be friends, but never true confidants.

She wished to confide her heart to a jade zither, but few would understand; if the strings broke, who would listen?

Seeing her lost in thought, Chen Qing smiled, “No wonder you’re the mainstay of the magazine. Most people, seeing such a dazzling city, would be thrilled. Only someone who writes such gently melancholic prose would have such a delicate heart.”

“But,” she continued, puzzled, “you’re only fifteen. How do you carry so many thoughts? When I was your age, I barely knew what love was. Kids these days sure are different.”

“Fifteen isn’t so young. In ancient times, people married and had children at that age,” Lin Xia replied.

“Is that true? I didn’t know.” Chen Qing looked at her curiously. “Wait, are you saying, little girl, that you’re thinking about romance?”

Lin Xia rolled her eyes, “I’ve been working on a historical novel lately, so I’ve been researching a lot about those times.”

“So you’re suddenly writing about the past,” Chen Qing frowned slightly. “Your readers are used to your youthful style; maybe they won’t be as enthusiastic about historical fiction.”

Lin Xia laughed. “If I always cater to readers and the market, I’ll end up a third-rate writer. Well, truthfully, I am a third-rate writer now. But if I can set the trend and become a king in my field, like Jay Chou in music, that’s my real dream.”

“Besides, what’s popular is what sells. It’s hard to please every reader. I don’t want to be writing school romance at thirty—that would dull my mind. Like those stars who break out with melodramatic dramas, but eventually move to movies. I want to change too; I’m trying various genres now, and I’ve written historical short stories before, so the shift isn’t that dramatic.”

Chen Qing was moved, looking thoughtfully at Lin Xia. “Reading makes one wise. To think you have such insight at your age—I’m ten years older and you put me to shame.”

Lin Xia smiled, “It’s nothing compared to the prodigy Jiang Fangzhou.”

Jiang Fangzhou started writing at seven, published an essay collection at nine, later attended Tsinghua University, and after graduation became deputy editor at New Weekly magazine—someone Lin Xia greatly admired in her previous life.

Chen Qing nodded, “I see, she’s truly remarkable. But you’re not so bad yourself.”

Lin Xia smiled without answering; if not for this second chance, she would never have achieved so much. Jiang Fangzhou was a genuine talent.

Joking and chatting, their car stopped in the parking lot of the Boya International Hotel. Lin Xia shouldered her backpack and got out, surveying the surroundings. The entrance was framed by green trees and fountains; the building, set against foliage, appeared exceptionally tranquil. She was quite pleased.

Chen Qing locked the car and laughed, “So, you like this place?”

Lin Xia nodded, “The exterior design is unique. Unlike other hotels that focus too much on modernity, this one feels like it’s missing nothing.”

They entered the hotel.

Inside the lobby, Lin Xia was dazzled by the splendid atmosphere. It wasn’t that the decorations were overly luxurious, but the lobby was spacious, the floor spotless enough to reflect people, and the simple yet elegant design gave off a refined air—enough to impress someone from the countryside like her.

Though amazed inside, she kept a calm face and followed Chen Qing into the elevator.

Once in their room, Lin Xia stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the green shade and red lotus in the pond outside. The open view brought a sense of peace and clarity.

Seeing her lost in the scenery, Chen Qing handed her a key and smiled, “Here’s your room key. It’s summer, so rooms are in high demand, and we’ll be sharing one. The numbers worked out that way, and since you’re young, the magazine wanted me to stay with you—to look after you.”

Lin Xia replied, “I feel bad about it, Sister Cat. You have your own things to do—I hope I’m not holding you up.”

Chen Qing winked playfully, “No need to feel bad. Besides, I’ve never stayed in such a fancy hotel before; I owe it to you.”

She threw herself onto the soft bed, rubbing it lazily. “Ah, this is comfort!”

Lin Xia laughed, “You’re joking, Sister Cat. Editor Kai Shui is your uncle, and you have a home in B City. Your life is much easier than us outsiders.”

Chen Qing lifted her head from the pillow, propping it with her right hand and shaking her left index finger. “You don’t understand. Beijing’s housing prices have skyrocketed these years; we still pay a mortgage every month. Even after graduating, I haven’t saved much. I have a younger brother, so money’s tight. I couldn’t afford a room costing thousands a night.”

“And my uncle has a big family to support. With Beijing’s prices, everything’s expensive. Social obligations cost money too. Outsiders see the glamour, but only we know the reality. Before I graduated, things weren’t as good as you imagined. Only after working did life get a little better.”

Lin Xia tossed her bag onto the sofa and sat on the edge of the bed, smiling, “Even so, your opportunities are far greater than those from the provinces. Your knowledge and conversation are different, too. Newspapers always say Beijing and Shanghai residents discriminate against outsiders—this is the superiority that comes from education.”

Chen Qing was surprised, “Wow, you’re so young and already care about social issues. Planning a political career?”

Lin Xia scratched her nose and laughed, “Politics? We’re ordinary folks, so we need to care about people’s lives.”

They chatted for a while, until Lin Xia found a break to yawn widely.

Seeing this, Chen Qing smiled, “You’ve been on a plane for hours. You must be tired. Go shower and rest awhile; tonight I’ll take you out for dinner.”

Lin Xia nodded—she was indeed exhausted. She usually napped at noon, but couldn’t sleep on the plane due to the ear pressure.

Now, after the flight and a long car ride, she was tired from all the conversation.

She unpacked, preparing to shower and nap for a bit.

Just then, Chen Qing’s phone rang.

After she finished the call, Lin Xia smiled, “Go handle your business, Sister Cat. After my shower, I’ll need a couple hours to recharge.”

“But you’ll be alone in the hotel…” Chen Qing hesitated—she did have some personal matters to take care of.

Lin Xia laughed, “You underestimate me, Sister Cat. Besides, this is a five-star hotel—how many bad people could there be? If you’re really worried, I won’t wander around. I even travelled alone to W City. Look, I flew here myself—my parents aren’t worried, so why should you be? Rural kids like us are tough; we used to run wild all over the hills as children. It’s nothing.”

Hearing this, and recalling some stories Lin Xia had told her before, Chen Qing finally relented. She reminded Lin Xia to lock the door and ask the staff if she needed anything, then hurried off with her bag.

(To be continued. If you enjoy this work, please subscribe, tip, and support—it’s my greatest motivation.)