Secrets
Bastard“Do you have something important to do tonight?” Gale asks.
“No, but judging by your tone, I probably should.”
The two make small talk while they focus their eyes and move small robotic arms to assemble the latest necessary component. “Developmental Department along with most of Resource and almost every secretary on staff are all planning to go to a restaurant tonight,” Gale says.
“Am I expected to attend?” Mei Lin has never really been one for parties but she’ll go out of courtesy if invited.
“You’re one of the reasons why this ‘team-building’ event is happening.” In other words, they’re looking for an excuse to get drunk, have good food. and gossip.
“Oh?” Mei Lin says this so that Gale would keep talking; there’s not a pinch of interest in her tone.
“Seven weeks, Mei,” Gale says. “A new record.” She knows Mei Lin doesn’t really care about this sort of thing, but with the way that things have been recently, it’s a big deal.
“So what are the other reasons?” Mei Lin asks, not interested at all. If anything, she now dreads the thought of required attendance. It’s not that she’s not on good terms with those that Gale listed on the guest list (if you exclude Bai Fu), it’s that Mei Lin was hoping to actually get some rest tonight.
“Scarlet and Xian are leaving,” Gale says. “Remember?”
“Is that why they’re not here today?” Mei Lin asks sarcastically.
“Xian has summer term at a university and Scarlet found a job closer to home,” Gale says, pushing herself to another lab desk to get another wire.
The rolling sound of Gale’s chair is Mei Lin’s cue to look up from the scope. “So what are you going to do?” Mei Lin asks.
“Stay here and work with you?” Gale thought that was obvious.
“A temp’s salary isn’t exactly what you were aiming for,” Mei Lin says.
“Well, if the rumors are true, you’re going to get promoted, and I just might take your job.”
Mei Lin blinks at the casually said false news. “What?”
“You’ll be head of the Developmental Department, overseeing all the teams, not just this one,” Gale explains. “Though, I still get the feeling that I’m still going to be the only one who can really understand what your notes are going for. The paycheck is a lot bigger, but you won’t be doing grunt work.”
“Gale, that’s Yi Fan’s job.”
“Which you’ve practically been doing for him since day one. Let the bastard focus on Public Relations.”
Mei Lin doesn’t go back to her work when Gale returns to the table. “Gale, I’m not taking his job,” she says firmly.
“You’re not, it’s being given to you. Besides, it’s only a rumor, Mei.”
Gale is surprisingly calm about this while Mei Lin can’t help but give her a look of “That so?”
Mei Lin’s phone vibrates and Gale doesn’t need to look up to know who’s calling. “Speak of the devil.” Mei Lin ignores the insult to her boss and reads the text. “If you don’t want the job, don’t come,” Gale says, as Mei Lin gets ready to leave the lab. “Say you have something important to do tonight,” she says, bringing the conversation full circle, knowing full well that Mei Lin isn’t one for alcohol at social events.
“Sir?”
Yi Fan doesn’t look up from his table of files. “My father wants to see you in his office, now.”
Mei Lin bows and decides to take the stairs. Mr. Wu’s two secretaries greet her with a generic expression. Mei Lin bows in greeting and bows again in the presence of the chairman. She waits for him to speak but he seems to be preoccupied like his son. “Zhù hè,” ("Congratulations,") Mr. Wu says, holding up a file, which Ms. Wang gladly takes before running off to deliver it. Mei Lin has to wonder if this is a glimpse into the future.
Mei Lin bows but keeps silent. Mr. Wu holds another file up and Mr. Hoang takes it and leaves the room. There are clearly more files of various marbled colored. but Mr. Wu stops and puts his hands on top of one another before looking up and giving Mei Lin all of his attention. His eyes are cold, empty, and yet still piercing, making Mei Lin want to take a step back. Whatever color or life use to be in them is clearly dead and they’re nothing but black pearls now. His receding hairline and tanned skin tells Mei Lin that he’s clearly in his sixties, at least. With hair as pitch black as his eyes, Mei Lin notes Mr. Wu’s attempt at keeping a younger image with such an unrealistically light- color. The faint scars make you wonder which war, or wars, he served in and something about the way the lines carve into his face makes you respect the man.
“How is he?” Mr. Wu finally asks.
It’s a simple question with a very complicated answer. Mei Lin is unsure of how to respond and is left there standing like a moron, blinking into the distance. Meanwhile, Mr. Wu pulls a drawer open and takes out a fancy crystal bottle and a glass. He’s about to pull out a second glass when he decides that he doesn’t want to test the woman before him. He pours himself about a centimeter of the caramel liquid before taking a sip.
“Well?” Mr. Wu asks, not being the patient type.
“I’m not sure, to be honest, sir,” Mei Lin finally says. “We don’t ever discuss our personal lives.” He certainly doesn’t give any hints of what goes on outside this company. If I’m lucky, I’ll notice that an earring is missing or that his tie is more to one side than the other.
“He’s been coming home late,” Mr. Wu says. “Sometimes he doesn’t come home at all.” Mei Lin stays silent, hoping for more. “He doesn’t take his car, and sometimes, not even his phone.”
Meaning, he has no idea where his son his half the time; great.
“I need you to find out where he’s been going,” Mr. Wu says.
Now Mei Lin takes a step back. “Sir, with all due respect, I’m not going to spy on your son. Clearly you have the resources to hire someone who is more skilled than myself for such a delicate matter.”
“He trusts you,” Mr. Wu says.
“If I do this and he finds out, I’ll be fired.” That, and whatever trust he has in me will die faster than a short fuse.
“If you don’t do this, you will be fired.”
Mei Lin thinks about this for a moment. “I’m sorry, sir, but his personal life is none of my business. And I will not be a rat.”
Mei Lin turns to leave, knowing full well that Lu Han has backup plans for her. “Wait.” Mei Lin stops. “I’m just concerned about my son—”
“Then talk to him.”
Mr. Wu doesn’t appreciate being interrupted, but he keeps his composure. “What’s it going to take?”
“A lot more than it would cost you to get a Private Investigator.”
Mei Lin walks out and debates whether or not to start packing her things. This is stupid. She knows it is. Five years of university, as well as countless hours of internships, all to get fired within two months. She runs the scenario back and back again in her mind as she walks down the stairs, wondering what it is she could’ve done to make it better. Nothing works. She could’ve pretended to take the job and then just lie to Mr. Wu about Yi Fan’s personal life, but that would’ve given Mr. Wu reason to fire her anyways once he found out. That would also allow whatever issues that’s going on with Yi Fan to continue longer. She could’ve told Yi Fan what his father is planning, but again, Mr. Wu would have her fired. If she took on the task, Yi Fan would fire her and might actually make the situation worse. Everything pretty much points to Mei Lin getting fired, the only difference between some is by whom and whether or not it would help Yi Fan’s situation.
“Are you going to fire her?” Ms. Wang asks after passing Mei Lin in the hall.
“No, let her be and have Hoang get someone to keep an eye on Yi Fan,” Mr. Wu says.
“He won’t like that,” Ms. Wang says, this not being the first time a P.I. was assigned to the boss’ son.
Back on the thirty-seventh floor, Mei Lin reaches her desk and the secretaries wonder which was more likely to have just happened: her getting fired or her getting promoted. From the looks on their faces, Mei Lin must look like she just came back from Hell. There’s an exchange of a few hundred Yuan notes and Mei Lin snickers a bit at the silent bet. She turns her attention back to her desktop when she notices a small paper bag on her desk. The color is a dark blue and looked to be made of textured cardstock. It doesn’t take a genius to note that the small bag is handmade and likely from a small stationary store. The glitter-embedded tissue paper is generic and store-bought though. There’s no note but when Mei Lin opens it, there’s no question as to whom this is from.
The box is a royal blue decorated with curling, slender blades of jade green and little white-belled flowers dangling from a single branch. The letters are that of the English alphabet, but the combination suggests that it’s anything but English. Mei Lin may not have a taste for the expensive things, but she’s not ignorant to the classics. Fragonard, Mei Lin smirks. Must have picked it up while he was in France; no wonder he told me to forget the perfume three weeks ago.
She opens the box and a clear bottle showcases a similar design to that of the box. Mei Lin sprays a bit of the “MUGUET EAU DE TOILETTE” on her wrist and dabs her wrists together before bringing it to her nose. The scent is floral, crisp but soft and sweet and somehow light all at the same time. It reminds her of lilies and the back of the box confirms her analysis. It’s subtle, but the ladies note the different scent in the air even though Mei Lin had hardly squeezed the pump down half way. She puts away her gift and wonders why Henry chose such a time. He hasn’t left the country since Mei Lin started working here, and so, unless he got it shipped to him recently, why would he choose today of all days to give her something like this?
Mei Lin gets up to make a quick trip to Henry’s office seeing how this might be the last time she’ll get to see him. However, Yi Fan calls her into his office. He’s standing, flipping through some files near his bookshelf. He’s about to ask something when he wrinkles his nose a bit and takes two steps closer to Mei Lin. “You smell nice,” Yi Fan comments. “It suits you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Mei Lin says, taken a bit aback by the sudden compliment.
Yi Fan quickly returns to his files. “What did my father want?”
Mei Lin looks down at the ground and decides that it’s best to answer honestly. “He wanted me to follow you, sir. He said you had been coming home late recently or not at all; he wants to know where you go.”
Yi Fan is unfazed by this and doesn’t even bothering to lift his eyes from the paragraph. “And? What did you say?”
“I told him that it would be cheaper to hire a private investigator.”
Yi Fan looks up in surprise by Mei Lin’s choice of words, knowing how much his father is willing to pay. “Did he fire you?” Yi fan is now amused.
“Not yet,” Mei Lin sighs, wanting to flop down on the couch.
“He’s not going to fire you,” Yi Fan says, making a comment rather than trying to reassure Mei Lin. “He values loyalty.” Which is the only reason why I’m still here. “So the question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“Your personal life is none of my business, sir,” Mei Lin says. “But if I may speak freely, sir,” Mei Lin waits for protest but continues as Yi Fan pours himself a cup of water. “He’s worried about you—”
“He’s not worried about me,” Yi Fan corrects her. “He’s worried about what I could be doing or where I could be seen, meaning he’s worried about how my actions could reflect on this company. He couldn’t give two s about me.” Mei Lin flinches at the cold yet honest tone. He looks up at Mei Lin who looks to be of discomfort. “What? Don’t tell me you’re worried.”
“Then I won’t tell you,” Mei Lin says smoothly. “You are my business—literally, sir.”
Yi Fan narrows his eyes as if physically focusing would help him get a better reading of Mei Lin. “Tell you what,” he says, sitting in his chair and putting his glass down, now empty. “You can come along tonight and see for yourself; thought I can’t promise you’ll like what you see—or maybe you will; how am I suppose to know what you like?”
Mei Lin blinks three times as if that would change the scene before her or what she had just heard. “Uh, alright.”
“And if you want, you can report back to father-dearest and maybe he’ll give you a raise.” Now it’s unclear whether or not Yi Fan was serious as he tosses the icosahedron up and down again. Or maybe he’ll think he has a new spy.
“Sir?” Mei Lin asks, confusion clearly painted on her face.
“I’ll see you at five,” Yi Fan says, dismissing her for the day. “Wear something…less formal.”
Mei Lin bows and leaves for lunch. She eats alone until the should-be couple shows up with a box. “What’s with all the gifts today?” Mei Lin asks.
“Oh? Someone else gave you something?” Gale asks.
“Yeah, Yi Fan gave me a slice of life,” Mei Lin says, opening the plain white box. From the make and size, these things usually hold clothes, but it’s much too heavy and heavily taped for that. Lu Han bounces a bit until Mei Lin pulls back the thin tissue paper, revealing a small nine-inch custom laptop. “Holy—My word.”
“Do you like it?” Lu Han asks with a big grin.
“So this is what you two were doing in the labs together,” Mei Lin says, examining the flawless metallic charcoal shell. “That explains why I can’t find my hard drives or memory cards from my old laptop.” Mei Lin looks at Gale, who clearly had stolen those from Mei Lin’s desk. “Specs?” Mei Lin asks with bright eyes as she examines the exterior.
The rectangular prism is matte with a thin but seamless line indicating where it opens. A small dent is in the case for a better grip. On both sides are holes of various shapes: a slit for any type of flat disk, ports for USB heads, and others for Ethernet and other cables; there’s even one for the headphones or earbuds of Mei Lin’s choice. The unique hexagon divot with metallic ridges matches the charger in the box.
“Three point two gigahertz Intel Core i9—I modified the OS system a bit. It has ten gigabytes of RAM memory and 1600 megahertz DDR3,” Lu Han says.
“Are you sure you didn’t just dissect a MacBook Pro and give it steroids?” Mei Lin asks, turning on the laptop and forgetting about her lunch.
“Then it would be bigger, not smaller,” Gale says. “The screen has an LED-backlit display and a satin finish; it’s also touchscreen. We cranked the resolution as high as we could without completely overworking the battery. Assuming that you’re going to have at least five programs running at once, at full charge, it’ll give you about six hours.”
“There’s a built-in hotspot and automatically wires your signal through various servers and proxies,” Lu Han says.
“Did you two build me a military laptop?” Mei Lin asks, checking the previous files and programs.
“No; it’s better than anything the military could make,” Gale huffs. “Anyway, we transferred everything from those hard drives. There’s a total of about seven hundred and fifty gigabytes of storage, with an rpm of about seventy-two hundred. There’s a back up SSD just in case Yi Fan wants to smash it again. That’s assuming he can even scratch the special titanium alloy.”
“I can’t tell if this is a gift for me or something to rub his face in,” Mei Lin says playfully, although she’s very grateful. “Is this compatible with my iPhone and iPad?” Mei Lin asks.
“Like I said, it just tweaked the OS system a bit, so yes. Think of it as a mini MacBook from the future.” Lu Han smiles as if his own son just did him proud.
“Well, I have it now, so I can’t really think of it as from the future,” Mei Lin says. “I’m just surprised there’s an optical drive in something so small.” She lifts the small notebook and feels it in her hands. “And so light.” The two smile at their handy work. “Thank you,” Mei Lin says formally.
Gale is not the hugging type at all, but this is one of the few rare moments that the two share such an exchange with the only other time being right after their high school graduation. Mei Lin hesitates in hugging Lu Han, unsure of where he stands on this type of display of gratitude, and also unsure of how Gale would feel. Lu Han hugs Mei Lin instead, seeing how she had been debating mentally, but it’s brief, even briefer than the one shared between Gale and Mei Lin.
“I should get back to work,” Lu Han says, leaving the ladies to Mei Lin’s gift and lunch.
“So, you and him?” Mei Lin asks, watching Gale’s eyes follow Lu Han as he leaves.
“No,” Gale says disappointingly.
“You two clearly like each other; even a blinded fool like me can see that,” Mei Lin says, putting away the laptop.
“You think he likes me?” Gale asks. Her response would be a false indirect confession, but Gale will take what she can get.
“Does it matter what I think?” Mei Lin asks, not wanting to give her friend false hope.
“We’re still pretty awkward about the whole cultural thing…if I wasn’t a genius like you, people around here would look down on you even more,” Gale sighs.
“Stop putting yourself down,” Mei Lin says, pointing at her friend with every word with a fork. She stabs another piece of dragon fruit. “Whatever happens happens.”
“You and Henry?” Gale asks, not wanting to linger on the topic.
“Ooh, that reminds me, I need to see him.” Mei Lin packs and gets ready to leave. “Thanks again, Gale!”
“Will I see you tonight?” Gale asks.
“I have plans!” Mei Lin takes the elevator to the top floor. When she gets to Henry’s office, she notes that Bai Fu isn’t at her desk when she looks through the glass. She walks in anyway and peeks into Henry’s office. He seems to be alone; she knocks three times with her knuckles. “Am I interrupting?” Mei Lin asks in Cantonese.
Henry smiles at the pleasant surprise and Mei Lin takes that as an invitation to bring the other half of her body into the office. It’s much darker thanks to three almost solid walls lined with dark mahogany. The blinds are pulled, but sunlight still tries to push through, making the room dim. The large desk is close to the far wall and with Henry’s back to the filtered light; one could almost say he appears to be an angel. Shelves line the wall to the right while a long sofa is against the one on the leftm with a glass coffee table in front of it. It’s half the size of Yi Fan’s office, but there is still room for two chairs in front of the main desk.
Henry puts down his fountain pen and gives Mei Lin his undivided attention, noticing the scent that she brings in with her. “You like it?” Henry asks, using their childhood dialect as well.
“It’s nice; thank you,” Mei Lin says with a slight bow of the head. It’s too formal for Henry’s taste, even though Mei Lin’s being casual. “Mind telling me what the special occasion is?”
“I don’t know how you did it, but,” Henry sighs and switches languages. “Kevin actually kept you around longer than Amber. If he likes you this much, you would’ve thought by now that he would’ve sent you somewhere where you would be happy.”
“I am happy,” Mei Lin says, still using Cantonese. “And I can assure you that he doesn’t like me,” English now, “he tolerates me.”
“You sure it’s not the other way around?” Henry asks, sticking to English. “Damn, how did you go from being such an impatient brat to a patient saint?” He leans back in his office chair, laughing to himself.
“You of all people should know that I’m not a saint,” Mei Lin says. “What were you going to do with the bottle if I had been fired before today?”
“Give it to you as a going-away present?” Henry suggests, earning him a quick chuckle from Mei Lin. “You coming to the party tonight? It’s kinda for you.”
“No,” Mei Lin says. “I have plans tonight.” Then it hits her. “Gale didn’t say anything about the International Department going.”
“Anyone from the company or in relation is welcome,” Henry says. “Her guest list might just include those who are most likely to attend.”
“Of course you would go,” Mei Lin says teasingly, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of Henry’s desk. “You don’t need an invitation to party.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having a good time every now and then,” Henry says with a smirk. “I have no reason to go now, though.”
“Oh?” She tilts her head to better examine the look on Henry’s face as he looks back down at the files he’s pretending to read. “What changed?”
“You don’t seem to be attending,” Henry says casually, turning another page.
“Since when did you need me round to have a good time?” Mei Lin asks with suspicion. “If I remember correctly, you use to never let me follow you anywhere.”
“You were still in primary school,” Henry chuckles. “You couldn’t have expected me to take you to a high school party.”
Mei Lin brushes off the memory when there’s a knock on the door and Bai Fu pokes her head in, her demeanor flinching when she sees Mei Lin. “Sir, your lunch is ready,” Bai Fu says in Mandarin.
“Care to join me?” Henry asks Mei Lin in English, to whom Bai Fu sends a searing glare even though she has no idea what her boss had just said.
“No, thank you,” Mei Lin says in Cantonese so that all three parties could understand. “I just ate.” Mei Lin switches back to English, “Maybe you should take her with you instead,” she says in a whisper, her eyes darting in Bai Fu’s direction for a moment, “I think she likes you as much as she hates me.”
Henry smiles brightly, enough that it reaches his eyes and emits something between a chuckle and a giggle as Mei Lin leaves, leaving Bai Fu steaming, almost breaking the pen in her hand.
Mei Lin returns to her floor and does some final paper work at her desk before going into her office and slipping on the lab coat. Gale smiles at the return of her friend, happy for another set of hands. They work until four thirty with little to no conversation, as the two have earbuds and are listening to their selected playlists. When Mei Lin hopes to leave unnoticed, Gale pulls out an earbud and asks, “Where are you going?” Her phone didn’t ring.
“Sorry for ditching,” Mei Lin says, taking off her lab coat and safety glasses before leaving the lab. “But I have plans tonight.”
Gale raises a single eyebrow, “Hot date?”
“Hardly,” Mei Lin scoffs. She pushes a button on a small remote, which tints all the glass walls into a deep onyx before she strips down into her underwear before looping on a loose-hugging white V-neck and light blue skinny jeans. Gale walks in just as Mei Lin slips her flats back on.
“Where are you off to?” Gale asks.
“To be honest, I’m not quite sure, but I was told to be less formal,” Mei Lin says as she takes out some cleaning wipes to clear off the makeup mask.
“Where do you keep all of that?” Gale asks, coming closer to Mei Lin’s desk.
“Don’t you know?” Mei Lin teases. “You’ve been through my drawers before.”
“No, I know where you keep your first-aid kit and all that hygienic and cosmetic stuff. You have a drawer that’s like a condensed bathroom. I’m talking about your clothes.”
Mei Lin turns around to face the large filling cabinet behind her and she unlocks one of the deep drawers. “Always have spare clothes,” Mei Lin advises.
Gale peeks in and sees a change of formal wear and a set of sleepwear. There are spare socks, undergarments, and even pantyhose and stockings, even though Mei Lin never wears anything but pants. “Someone’s prepared.”
“I’m sure your locker is the same way,” Mei Lin says with a small laugh.
“I don’t have half of what you have in that drawer,” Gale says, pointing to the “bathroom” drawer of Mei Lin’s desk. “Is that a blanket?” The drawer is deeper than it looks.
“You never know when you might have to stay late in the office,” Mei Lin says. Working for him and this department, I’m surprised I haven’t yet.
“You should furnish this office a bit,” Gale says. There’s nothing but Mei Lin’s desk, the large file cabinet against the solid shared wall, and Mei Lin’s chair in between the two. There’s a trashcan to the left Mei Lin’s desk, but that doesn’t count. “At least get a couch so you’ll have somewhere to sleep if you need to.”
“Where would I put it?” Mei Lin asks.
The glass wall connecting her office to the lab has double doors and the glass wall currently to their right connects to the lobby and also has double doors, which has Mei Lin’s name and title in Chinese on the right door and the very same thing again, but only in English on the left in silvery white letters and characters. The only solid wall (with her boss being on the other side) behind them has the cabinet along with Mei Lin’s degrees. The wall to their left is solid glass, but Mei Lin keeps it black, find the lovely view to be distracting.
“You have no chairs in front of your desk, so why not put a couch there instead?” Gale suggests.
She’s right. The lack of seating in front of her desk makes her seem unwelcoming, even though no one ever really sticks around in Mei Lin’s office very long; even Mei Lin isn’t in her own office very often. “I’ll do that when I have the time,” Mei Lin sighs. “You know I’m not one for shopping.”
“Ask Henry to go with you,” Gale suggests.
Yi Fan pops his head into Mei Lin’s office, taking in Mei Lin’s simple clothes and bare face before turning around to leave. He turns his head to see if Mei Lin is really going to tag along and she mumbles something to her friend before following closely behind her boss. The secretaries exchange raised eyebrows, thinking Mei Lin is her way into keeping her job.
Zi Tao is waiting in front of the building with a different car and has the door open and waiting for Yi Fan as Mei Lin gets into the passenger seat herself. So this is how father doesn’t know. Mei Lin waits to hear where they’re going, but Zi Tao already seems to know. Mei Lin is looking over her sketches and notes most of the ridem so when Zi Tao stops in front of a restaurant, Mei Lin isn’t sure where they are, but judging by the crowd and how they dress, Mei Lin feels the need to take a shower. Is this where he goes?
They walk in and are greeted happily by short young ladies in even shorter modern Chinese dresses. They look at Mei Lin with curious eyes, but lead them to the back regardless like the many times before. The couple doesn’t have to wait long until another young lady appears, but she’s dressed differently. The body-tight strapless party dress and high heels look as if they could slip off if you bump into her the wrong way. It doesn’t take long for Mei Lin to recognize who it was that’s standing before her. It’s Yu from the mall, who gives Mei Lin the same look that the working ladies did only moments before. They are led down a hall in the back of the restaurant, which appears to be slow in terms of business. Once deeper in the building, Mei Lin can’t help but notice that it smells like sweet perfume rather than that of cooked or cooking food.
“Sir?” Mei Lin asks, slightly confused now.
They make a turn into the farthest room and the walls are red like the rest of the furnishings. “You’re welcome to watch,” Yi Fan smirks before the lights dim and Mei Lin quickly turns around at the sight of Yu kissing her boss.
Mei Lin closes the door behind her and tries to remember her way out of the maze of halls. Most of the doors are closed but the sounds of muffled pain and pleasure are now obvious to Mei Lin’s ears. Now she really wants to take a shower. She passes several young ladies who are underdressed, while some appear to be in costume. “I thought you were with Mister—” Mei Lin ignores the woman and keeps walking as fast as she could without looking panicked and hurried. She finds her way out of the restaurant, passing even more “customers” on the way, a few of them confusing her for being on the menu. They must have been drunk; Mei Lin is more fully clothed than any of them.
She takes a deep breath and then coughs at the polluted taste. In the chaos of trying to breathe again, in spite of such pain, she is relieved to be out of such a place. She looks up at the neon sign, which is surprisingly written in English. I guess the fact that it’s named “The Pink Blossom” should’ve gave it away. Mei Lin walks a couple of blocks, but it doesn’t help her to forget about the love hotel. So is Yu Niao a e or his girlfriend? Maybe she’s his lover.
After noting the type of people walking these streets, Mei Lin decides that it’s best to leave this part of town. She doesn’t see any bus stops nor any subway entrances, and the lack of taxis are troubling. After ten minutes of trying to figure out where she is and how she’s going to get home, Mei Lin risks calling Zi Tao for a ride. He comes to pick her up in ten minutes and she slides into the back seat without a word.
“Where to?” he asks with a slick smile. Mei Lin tells Zi Tao where she lives and says nothing else. “What do you think?” Zi Tao is curious as to Mei Lin’s reaction and he can’t help but find her face twisting in such a manner to be amusing. She doesn’t speak, so he decides to fill the silence. “It’s not my business, but he always does stuff like this to make himself feel better when things aren’t so great. There’s a new girl every month, so you secretaries shouldn’t feel too bad.” Zi Tao’s nonchalant laugh disgusts Mei Lin. “The man has the money—”
“So he spends it on alcohol and ,” Mei Lin mumbles to herself.
“I’m not defending him or anything because I work for the guy, I’m just letting you know how it is.” Zi Tao stops at a red light and looks back on Mei Lin’s outwardly gazing stare. “So what are you going to do?” he asks, expecting her to be disgusted or rat out Yi Fan to anyone who will listen.
“What’s ‘not so great’?” Mei Lin asks. Zi Tao arches his right eyebrow. Mei Lin sees that quarter of his face in the rearview mirror in her peripherals, so she clarifies, “You said he’s like this ‘when things aren’t so great,’ so what would that be?”
With his expectations happily let down, he asks, “What makes you think I would know?”
“I looked into you,” Mei Lin admits. “You’ve for him longer than anyone. You know where he goes and where he’s been and it seems to me like you have a pretty good grasp of who he is and what his habits are, so I’ll be damned if you of all people wouldn’t know.”
Zi Tao smirks, pinching his eyes into smiling as well. His expression deepens at the thought of what’s truly bothering his boss. “I’m not sure,” Zi Tao admits with a bit of a frown. “We don’t talk about that—we hardly talk at all.”
“I’m sure you talk more than you think,” Mei Lin says, still looking out the window. “His father?” Mei Lin guests, keeping her peripherals on Zi Tao. “His mother?” Zi Tao flinches. “What can you tell me about his mother?”
Zi Tao makes a turn and pulls over. When they stop, Mei Lin’s gaze is at the rearview mirror, which now shows a bit less than a third of Zi Tao’s small face now that his eyes are on Mei Lin as well. “He’s never been close with his parents, but relatively speaking, he’s on better terms with his mother. He may not smile, but he listens to her.”
“She’s ill,” Mei Lin says, knowing where this is going.
Zi Tao nods and lets out a much-awaited sigh. “He’s self-destructive when things are out of his control,” Zi Tao sighs again. “If there’s anyone in the family he cares about, it’s her.” Zi Tao pulls back into traffic and the two are silent the rest of the way back to Mei Lin’s apartment. Mei Lin thanks Zi Tao for the ride. “Just don’t tell him I told you anything.”
“So long as you promise not to tell him that you gave me a ride,” Mei Lin says with a weak smile.
They exchange a silent agreement and Mei Lin drags her heavy legs back to her apartment. She gives herself that desired hot shower and finds herself standing there in the streams of hot water a bit longer than usual, thinking about today’s events. Once she’s out and drying herself with a towel, decisions have to be made. Does she tell Mr. Wu? She would lose whatever trust Yi Fan has in her and be fired. Does she tell anyone? Once dressed, it’s clear to her that she shouldn’t. This leaves her with another dilemma though. How is anything going to change if no one else knows? She sighs once she realizes that the root of the problem is the fact that Mrs. Wu has a terminal disease. It has to be in its late stages or quickly progressing if he’s this upset. No way a family with this much money would allow something like this to cause so much grief.
Mei Lin chuckles grimly at the irony of the situation. Owners of one of the leading biomedical engineering companies in the world and their family is stricken with one of the few diseases with no treatment. She spends the rest of the night doing research on ALS and the methods used for prolonging the life of the degenerating neurons and muscles. With much thanks to Lu Han and Gale for her wonderful new laptop, she does research on the therapy and resources available. Mei Lin quickly realizes that the Wu household must’ve already considered this and everything else. She takes a longer look at the drug aspect, doing more and more research on neurology.
For once, Mei Lin doesn’t go to work the next morning, which is Saturday. It’s spent at hospitals and universities and libraries doing more research as she racks her brain for something that might help. Even after talking with doctors, professors, and making many phone calls, it’s still not enough to be considered progress. The problem with this whole situation is that every case of ALS is different and so all this effort does very little when she’s not even sure what she’s dealing with. Finally, after a quick lunch, she gathers the nerve to take the APM subway line to the Guangzhou Women and Children’s Medical Center where Mrs. Wu is being held (information courtesy of Ms. Wang).
Trying to see her is a problem, as she is better guarded than the US President. It takes a lot of talking and much ID showing before she’s even allowed to speak to Mrs. Wu’s doctor. Not much could be said to Mei Lin, as the connection is quite weak. Really, how much can one expect to find out by being the patient’s son’s secretary? All she knows so far is that she has to remain under observation at all times (the amount of lab coats says it all) and that the disease is slowly but surely progressing. Mei Lin is about to be thrown out until Mrs. Wu says otherwise.
“Who did you say that you are?” she asks in formal Cantonese.
Mei Lin bows deeply and keeps her eyes on the middle-aged woman to show respect. “My name is Chan Mei Lin,” she says, matching her formality and dialect. “I work for your son; I am his secretary.”
Mrs. Wu nods slightly and the two are left alone in the large room, decorated with various types of flowers and fancy machines. “Why are you here?” she asks, sitting back in her bed.
“I wanted to know more about your condition,” Mei Lin says honestly. “I was hoping to help.”
“Help?” Her tone somewhere between surprised and appalled. “How could you possibly help?”
“I am also a biomedical engineer, madam,” Mei Lin says. “I am head of a developmental team at your husband’s company. I focus on surgical technology, but I do have some background on—”
“And you think you can cure me?” she interrupts, chuckling to herself a bit at the young girl’s naïvetés. “I’m going to die,” she says bluntly. “A year, maybe two.”
“I don’t think I can cure you, madam,” Mei Lin says. “That would be foolish. I would like to think that I can help, if not you, then your son.”
“My son hasn’t had a consistent secretary in years,” Mrs. Wu laughs. Her expression changes with the thoughts running through her mind. “What do you want to know?”
Mei Lin is taken aback by the sudden offer, but gladly takes it. “May I take a look at your chart?” she asks.
Mrs. Wu lifts her arm a bit and gestures at the clipboard at the end of the bed. Mei Lin reads every line, thanking the doctor for having legible handwriting. Mrs. Wu watches the young lady eagerly taking notes on a small laptop. Mei Lin’s semi-formal attire and lack of makeup makes Mrs. Wu wonder if she truly is who she says she is. But then again, Mrs. Wu has never met any of her son’s secretaries, so it’s hard to say what his standards are. It saddens her to think how far apart the two have grown in the last few years and Mrs. Wu wonders how much the young lady before her knows about her son.
“How is he?” Mrs. Wu asks suddenly.
Mei Lin stops typing and plays with the words in , unsure of which ones should be presented. Nothing has to be said for Mrs. Wu to know that the girl is of no help. “He’s doing well,” Mei Lin finally lies. “I think.” She couldn’t bring herself to rat on her own boss about his choice in personal activities.
“Did he tell you about me?” Mrs. Wu asks. “Did he ask you to do this?”
“No,” Mei Lin says carefully. “I found out on my own. He knows that I know about you, but he didn’t ask me to come here.”
“So then why are you here?” Mrs. Wu asks, a familiar question—the whole Wu family seems to be interested in this question.
“To help your son,” Mei Lin says with a gentle smile.
Years of marriage with her husband has taught her to look past appearances, but with this girl, Mrs. Wu can’t help but conclude that there is genuine sincerity behind that smile.
“He cares about you,” Mei Lin says.
I find that hard to believe. The lack of visits are quite convincing to Mrs. Wu that the secretary is only telling her what she wants to hear, but Mei Lin’s eyes tell the truth and it probes the question: How does she know? “He’s a good kid,” Mrs. Wu finally says as Mei Lin finishes up with Mrs. Wu’s file. “I know he is.”
Mei Lin bows deeply. “Thank you for you time.” Just as she’s about to leave, she remembers, “If it wouldn’t be too much to ask, I would like for him not to know that I was here.”
“Why is that?” Mrs. Wu asks.
“Coming to you was a huge risk on my part. I could be fired by either one of them if they knew that I crossed the line into their personal lives and with nothing to show for it, yet; I really have no excuse to be here.”
It’s not like either of them come by anyway, but Mrs. Wu agrees. “I’ll agree, so long as you don’t show yourself around here again unless you have something for me.”
Mei Lin smiles and bows again before leaving. She spends the rest of her Saturday in the labs. With Gale on her day off and her other two assistants now elsewhere, the floor is practically empty as she works alone. Mei Lin reminds herself to get a sofa when she wakes up at her desk the next morning. She goes to the lady’s room to change and freshen up before grabbing some breakfast from the cafeteria. Gale greets her late Sunday morning with three new assistants.
“You leaving me?” Mei Lin asks with a bit of a yawn.
“No, you just have some eager college grads. They might keep this job if you let them,” Gale says.
“Performance reviews and the such,” Mei Lin sighs. Even more work.
The three young men look at the two ladies quizzically as they converse in English. Mei Lin doesn’t ask for names and neither does Gale, seeing how they all look the same at this point from Mei Lin’s exhaustion and Gale’s need of time. They boys introduce themselves anyway and Mei Lin does the same, apologizing in advance for the mess and if she forgets who is who.
“What are you working on? We’re not done with our last project,” Gale says, seeing the mess of notes.
“Something personal,” Mei Lin says. She switches to Mandarin, “Any of you a doctor?”
“Are you sick?” the shortest one asks.
“No, someone else is,” Mei Lin says with a bleak smile. “Never mind, let me introduce you to what we’re building.”
Gale gives Mei Lin a look of concern, but Mei Lin brushes it off as a signal to her friend that she doesn’t need to worry about it. Mei Lin gets a text after lunch. “You working?” it asks.
“Yes.”
“I hear you need a sofa.”
“I’ll see you at five.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Translations/Author's Notes:
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Zhù hè (祝賀) = Congratulations
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MUGUET EAU DE TOILETTE = I have a small sample vial from my visit to the store/factory while in Paris; I regret not buying some T_T
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"Three point two gigahertz Intel Core i9...." = Transltion: Very fast processing; crisp display and somewhat non-glaring; good battery life; China blocks and censors its internet, this laptop can get past all that, giving her untracable access; lots of memory with quick access and a secure back up; very, very hard protective finish.
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Mrs. Wu = In Chinese culture, it is very rare for the female to change her last name when she married. The children traditionally take on the father's last name, though, in modern culture, if agreed to by the couple, the mother's last name can be used instead. To be clear: Women more often than not keep their maiden names once married (much like Yi Fan's mother); I use the term "Mrs. Wu" to avoid confusion as to who she is. This story is mainly through Mei Lin's perspective and with her Western background, it is what she uses to refer to her; similiar to how she refers to Yi Fan's father as Mr. Wu.
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"Mei Lin bows deeply and keeps her eyes on the middle-aged woman..." = Mei Lin also does this when she first meets Mr. Wu. In Japanese and Korean culture, when bowing, you look down while doing so. However, in Chinese culture, you tend to keep your eyes on the person when you bow. You tend to only not look at the person when you bow should you have reason to be guilty or in shame.
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