Chapter 10:Happy Birthday Zhou Mingrui

As the calendar flipped to March, the days quietly slipped by, and Zhou Mingrui found himself settling into his new home with Meng Xian.

It had been nearly two weeks since his move, and while he was slowly adjusting to the new living arrangement, the transition was not without its challenges.

Meng Xian proved to be an ideal roommate, a stark contrast to the eccentricity of his previous living situation.

Her neatness and organization created a pleasant environment, and her easy-going nature made daily interactions smooth and enjoyable.

She had a way of making their shared space feel warm and welcoming, a welcome change from the chaos Zhou Mingrui had endured before.

Yet, the path to harmony wasn't without its bumps.

Meng Xian was dedicated to her Russian studies, immersing herself in the language with a regularity that Zhou Mingrui found both admirable and somewhat mysterious.

Every two days, she would review her lessons, diligently working through her textbooks and practicing aloud.

Zhou Mingrui, intrigued by her dedication, once found himself watching her with curiosity.

One evening, as Meng Xian was in the midst of her Russian review, Zhou Mingrui, driven by a mixture of curiosity and naivety, asked her about her progress. "So, how far have you come with your Russian?" he inquired.

Meng Xian looked up from her notes, a playful glint in her eyes. "Well, I've made some progress, but I must admit, I'm quite terrible at singing. Are you sure you want to hear it?" Her tone was light, as if she were teasing him.

Zhou Mingrui, dismissing her warning as mere modesty or a jest, responded with unwarranted enthusiasm. "I want to hear your voice. Come on, show me what you've got."

Little did he know, he was about to dive into a realm of regret.

he wished he could travel back in time and slap the stubborn part of himself that had ignored Meng Xian's warning.

What he had hoped would be a light-hearted moment quickly turned into a traumatic experience.

That evening, Meng Xian had enthusiastically performed "Katyusha," her rendition of the classic Russian song filled with earnest effort and good intentions.

However, to Zhou Mingrui's horror, her performance bore no resemblance to the melodious original. Her voice, though not out of tune, was so painfully discordant that it left a deep scar on his auditory senses.

How is Meng Xian bad at singing???

Zhou Mingrui's nightmares that night were a cruel replay of Meng Xian's rendition, the dissonant notes echoing relentlessly in his mind.

It was as if his subconscious had conspired to make him relive the trauma in an endless loop. The next morning, desperate for some semblance of normalcy, he sought out the original version of "Katyusha," hoping to compare it with Meng Xian's version.

The result was even more bewildering. Meng Xian's performance was, perhaps, technically correct. She had not strayed from the melody. Yet the dissonance was so jarring that it defied any explanation.

Zhou Mingrui found himself in a state of despair, grappling with the inexplicable reality that Meng Xian's singing, despite being in tune, was somehow worse than he could have imagined.

If faced with a choice between listening to Meng Xian's singing on repeat and enduring the incessant brainwashing of marketing accounts, Zhou Mingrui would have gladly chosen the latter. At least the marketing accounts didn't leave him with a lingering sense of dread.

The experience left him grappling with an intense mixture of regret and sympathy.

Another Friday rolled around, bringing with it the familiar sense of routine and the subtle anticipation of the weekend.

Zhou Mingrui, having just put down the tablet he'd been using, stretched his arms above his head.

His gaze wandered to the workstation across from him, now glaringly empty. Meng Xian had been absent for five consecutive days, taking half-days off with almost surgical precision.

Despite knowing that she likely had her reasons, Zhou Mingrui couldn't shake the growing sense of unease that had accompanied her absence.

"I only work five days a week. This is the fifth day…" Zhou Mingrui muttered to himself, the words feeling like a futile attempt to impose order on his mounting curiosity.

Zhou Mingrui's brow furrowed slightly as he reflected on the situation. "Forget it," he muttered to himself, trying to dispel the nagging worry.

"I shouldn't overthink it. Sir Wei won't mind, and Meng Xian knows what she's doing."

The office felt emptier without her, and the absence of her usual presence was starting to affect him more than he'd like to admit. He smacked his lips, the small distraction of his thoughts only mildly soothing.

Then, as if on cue, his mobile phone buzzed with a notification, its chime pulling him back to reality. The phone was charging on the desk, its battery at 78%—enough to last through the evening.

He unplugged it and picked it up, his fingers gliding over the screen as he navigated to the notification.

It was a WeChat message from Peng Deng.

Peng Deng: My girlfriend came to visit me and is staying at my place this weekend.

Zhou Mingrui's brows knitted together as he read the message. He quickly typed back.

Zhou Mingrui: So you are not free tonight?

Peng Deng: What do you think?

Zhou Mingrui: Damn, you forget your friends when you see a beautiful woman.

Peng Deng: Besides, Meng Xian is with you.

A twitch lips played at Zhou Mingrui's lips.

Peng Deng's teasing was all too familiar, but it never failed to hit its mark.

Zhou Mingrui's mind wandered back to the peculiar sensations he'd been experiencing whenever Meng Xian was near—an inexplicable fluttering in his stomach, a subtle but persistent happiness that seemed to linger whenever she was around.

He'd shared these feelings with Peng Deng, who, of course, had seized every opportunity to tease him about it.

Zhou Mingrui had asked Peng Deng for some insight into these strange emotions, but Peng Deng had only offered a cryptic remark, "You'll know soon."

Peng Deng's next message arrived with a picture of a dog with a cheeky grin, followed by a text.

Peng Deng: In order to comfort someone's wounded heart, I will reluctantly send a red envelope.

Zhou Mingrui's lips twitched into a reluctant smile. He was about to grumble about being mocked for his single status when his phone buzzed again. A red envelope notification flashed on the screen.

"This guy is probably making fun of me for being single again…" Zhou Mingrui gritted his teeth, but there was a playful undertone in his voice.

Despite himself, he was intrigued and eagerly tapped on the notification.

The red envelope appeared on his screen, labeled with a cheerful note: Happy birthday, and get rich soon!

Zhou Mingrui rolled his eyes but quickly grabbed the red envelope.

The screen displayed the amount he'd received: 233.3 yuan. A small crown icon shimmered beneath the amount, marking him as having the best luck.

Zhou Mingrui's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

"It's a mockery! It's a mockery!" he muttered, feeling the sting of the taunt. But even as he grumbled, he couldn't deny the absurd joy of winning the red envelope.

He packed up his things, his mood oscillating between irritation and amusement. As he left the office, the usual end-of-week excitement felt slightly diminished.

The empty workstation where Meng Xian usually sat only served to remind him of her absence.

Walking out of the office, he felt a pang of loneliness. The rhythmic hum of the city was a stark contrast to the quiet of the empty apartment he would return to. With a resigned sigh, he resolved to make the best of his evening.

Zhou Mingrui walked through the evening streets, the city lights flickering around him like distant stars. His phone buzzed in his hand, and he glanced down to see messages from his parents.

A smile tugged at his lips as he saw their names pop up, followed by a notification for two red envelopes.

The first message was a video—a birthday greeting his parents had specially recorded for him. Zhou Mingrui slowed his pace, his attention focused entirely on the screen.

His parents' familiar faces filled the frame, and their voices, warm and loving, filled his heart with a quiet joy. They joked, they reminisced, and they wished him well in the tender way that only parents could.

As he watched, Zhou Mingrui's eyes softened, and an uncontrollable smile spread across his face. He felt a surge of warmth, a connection that bridged the physical distance between them.

For a moment, the busy streets and the sounds of the city faded away, leaving only the comfort of his parents' words.

By the time he reached the elevator of his residential building, the video had ended, and he tucked his phone away, still grinning.

As the elevator doors closed behind him, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirrored walls. The smile was still there, wide and unabashed. He quickly suppressed it, attempting to make himself look less like a lovesick teenager, but the warmth lingered in his chest.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached his floor. Zhou Mingrui stepped out and walked to his door, reaching for the keypad.

He paused as he punched in the numbers, an odd feeling creeping over him. The hallway was quiet, the kind of quiet that made him hyper-aware of his surroundings.

Finally, the door clicked open, and Zhou Mingrui stepped inside, expecting the familiar, cozy warmth of his shared home.

Instead, he was met with darkness, the kind that felt strange and unsettling.

"Why is it so dark?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

The lights were off, and the apartment was shrouded in shadows. Meng Xian hadn't come back yet, he assumed, but something didn't add up.

Even if she wasn't home, it shouldn't be this dark, not unless she'd deliberately left it that way.

"Clang, clang!"

Before he could fully process the situation, the room was suddenly bathed in light.

The brightness made Zhou Mingrui squint, and he instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes. When his vision adjusted, he was met with a sight that left him frozen in place.

Meng Xian stood before him, grinning widely, with something rolled up in her hand.

She looked at him expectantly, her eyes twinkling with mischief, and by her side, Starlight the cat was prancing around, meowing happily.

"What…?" Zhou Mingrui blinked, confusion written all over his face. "Why is it so dark? And… why are you holding a newspaper rolled into cones?"

Meng Xian shook the makeshift cone in her hand, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

"Ah, this? I originally wanted to buy those

small handheld fireworks or ribbon sprays, but then I thought about the aftermath.

You'd have to wash your hair, take a shower, do laundry, and I'd have to clean up too. So, I improvised!"

She waved the newspaper cone triumphantly, as if it were the most brilliant idea ever conceived. "How about it? Isn't it a surprise?"

Zhou Mingrui stared at her, caught between bewilderment and amusement. The whole situation was absurd, but somehow it was exactly the kind of absurdity that Meng Xian would come up with. He suppressed a chuckle, feeling both amused and touched by her efforts.

There was no surprise, he thought wryly, but there was definitely a shock.

"Don't just stand there," Meng Xian urged, her voice bubbling with excitement. "Hurry up and cooperate with me!"

Zhou Mingrui frowned slightly, unsure of what she meant. "How… am I supposed to cooperate?"

Meng Xian's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she took a step closer, her voice taking on a dramatic flair. "Alright, listen up. You're the protagonist here. You were just surprised—no, shocked—by the fireworks from your friends.

You're standing there, hair, shoulders, and clothes covered in colorful strips and petals. Sparkling sequins are scattered among them, like stars in the night sky…"

She paused, giving him a moment to absorb her words before continuing, "And what greets you? The smiling faces of your friends. You feel mixed emotions welling up inside, and an indescribable feeling surges in your heart.

You can't help but shout out—"

"Meng!" Zhou Mingrui interrupted, half-shouting, "What are you doing, Meng?"

Meng Xian shook her head, her smile never faltering. "Wrong lines," she said, tapping him lightly on the forehead with the newspaper cone.

"Try again."

Zhou Mingrui sighed, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. He gave in, knowing that there was no winning against her. "Oh," he said obediently, his tone exaggerated as he called out again, "Meng Xian! What are you—?"

"It's to celebrate your birthday!" Meng Xian responded with the same enthusiasm, her eyes shining with joy.

She continued her dramatic narration, her voice full of emotion. "You were shocked!"

Zhou Mingrui played along, pretending to be shocked, though his expression betrayed a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

Meng Xian's voice rose and fell with emotion as she narrated, "Ah! My friend! How did you know today was my birthday?"

Zhou Mingrui tried to keep a straight face, but he couldn't help feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole thing. He glanced up, hoping to see an end to the theatrics, but Meng Xian wasn't done yet.

"His heart was surging like the tide, and it took him a long time to calm down," she continued, her tone filled with exaggerated sentiment. "Look up! Look at your friend's sincere smile again!"

Zhou Mingrui looked up as instructed, but after a moment of trying to muster up the appropriate emotion, he gave up, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I… I really can't cry," he admitted, feeling both awkward and a little guilty for not living up to her expectations.

Meng Xian laughed, the sound light and infectious. "Then laugh!" she encouraged, her own laughter bubbling over. "Happy birthday, Zhou Mingrui!"

At that moment, Starlight the cat, sensing the excitement, began to circle around Zhou Mingrui's feet, meowing in cheerful harmony with Meng Xian's wishes.

The small apartment was suddenly filled with warmth, the kind that didn't need grand gestures or expensive gifts.

It was in the way Meng Xian had planned this silly, heartfelt surprise, and in the way Starlight joined in, adding her own touch of joy to the moment.

Zhou Mingrui couldn't help but laugh, the awkwardness melting away as he looked at Meng Xian, her face glowing with happiness. This was his birthday, celebrated in the quirkiest, most unexpected way possible.

He might not have gotten fireworks or glittering confetti, but he had something better—a friend who cared enough to make him smile, even if it meant rolling up newspapers into cones.

Zhou Mingrui sat on the plush sofa, his gaze fixed on the small strawberry cake resting on the coffee table in front of him. The room was now softly lit, the warm glow of the lamps casting gentle shadows that danced across the walls.

The scent of fresh strawberries and cream filled the air, mingling with the familiar comfort of the home he shared with Meng Xian.

Starlight, their ever-loyal feline companion, had curled up beside him, purring softly as Zhou Mingrui gently petted her fur, his thoughts adrift.

Meng Xian had just opened the curtains, allowing the cool, blue-gray light of early evening to seep into the room.

She then joined him on the sofa, her presence calm and reassuring, as if she understood that Zhou Mingrui needed a moment to process everything.

The silence between them was comfortable, filled with unspoken words and shared understanding. Starlight nuzzled against Zhou Mingrui's hand, her soft fur a tactile comfort that anchored him in the present.

He couldn't help but smile as he continued to stroke her, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the room's temperature.

Breaking the silence, Zhou Mingrui asked softly, almost as if to himself

"Meng, how did you know my birthday is March 4th?"

Meng Xian leaned back against the sofa, her gaze steady on him. "Don't forget, when you first joined the company, you were assigned to work under me for guidance." She smiled, her tone light but filled with a trace of nostalgia. "I was also in charge of your file."

Zhou Mingrui's eyes flickered with surprise. He hadn't expected her to remember such a small detail from his file, something that most people would have overlooked or forgotten.

But then again, Meng Xian was always attentive to the little things, always thinking a step ahead.

Meng Xian's expression softened as she recalled the moment she first saw the date in his file. She had been just as surprised back then, realizing that March 4th was also the original birthday of Klein Moretti

Was it just a coincidence?

"Oh," Zhou Mingrui responded quietly, his tone subdued. He fell into a moment of introspective silence, his thoughts wandering through the years. After a long pause, he spoke again, this time with a touch of melancholy. "Actually, I haven't eaten birthday cake in a long time."

The confession hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken memories. Zhou Mingrui's mind drifted back to his childhood, a time when birthdays were simple yet magical.

Back then, the highlight of his birthday was not the presents or the parties, but the moment when he would receive a slice of sweet, creamy cake. That small, sugary delight had been enough to fill his heart with pure, unfiltered joy.

But as he grew older, those moments became increasingly rare. The cake, once the centerpiece of his birthday, was gradually replaced by more 'adult' celebrations—dinners with friends, where they would laugh, talk, and make wishes over drinks instead of cake. The simplicity of childhood had been traded for the complexities of adulthood, and somewhere along the way, the joy of a birthday cake had been lost.

When he was in college, Zhou Mingrui would sometimes lie in bed, unable to sleep, and imagine his future life. He had simple dreams: a stable job, a loving wife, a child to dote on, and a life filled with small, everyday joys.

He pictured himself on holidays, traveling with his family, going out for barbecues with friends, and always bringing something back for his wife and child. In his daydreams, life was uncomplicated, and birthdays were just another excuse to gather with loved ones.

But reality had a way of altering those dreams. As the years passed, birthdays became more about numbers—just another year added to his life.

Sometimes he was so busy that he would forget it was his birthday until a notification from some app or software reminded him. In those moments, he would smile to himself, say a quiet "happy birthday," and move on without much fuss.

But now, as he sat in the softly lit room with Meng Xian and Starlight by his side, he felt something he hadn't in a long time—a sense of being seen, of being cared for, in a way that went beyond the usual birthday wishes.

It was as if Meng Xian had reached into his past, pulled out a fragment of that lost joy

Zhou Mingrui turned to Meng Xian, his voice filled with genuine gratitude as he said, "Thank you."

Before she could respond, he quickly added, almost as if to cover up his sudden vulnerability, "Did you take these days off just for this cake?"

Meng Xian smiled, her eyes twinkling with a playful light. "How did you guess that?"

Zhou Mingrui's gaze returned to the cake on the table, and he noted its size with a slight frown. "Because this cake is a bit small... probably only four inches. And as far as I know, most cake shops aren't very willing to accept orders for four-inch cakes."

Meng Xian nodded, her expression turning serious as she explained, "That's right.

The time spent making a four-inch cake is almost the same as a six-inch one, but the profit is half as much. And the smaller the cake, the harder it is to deliver."

Zhou Mingrui listened intently, his eyes widening slightly as he processed her words. His gaze instinctively drifted towards the kitchen, but before he could say anything,

Meng Xian interrupted his thoughts with a knowing smile.

"What are you thinking?" she teased. "Do you think it would still be a surprise if I made it here? Of course I made it at a cake shop outside!"

She then added, with a touch of pride in her voice, "This is the first finished product I made after a week of practice, taught by a master craftsman."

Zhou Mingrui blinked in surprise, the sincerity in her words catching him off guard. "Is that even possible?" he blurted out, still trying to wrap his head around the idea.

Meng Xian's eyes sparkled with a mysterious glint. "If it doesn't work," she said with a sly smile, "it only means the money wasn't enough."

Zhou Mingrui couldn't help but laugh, her reasoning both amusing and oddly convincing.

As the laughter faded, his thoughts began to drift again, this time more focused on the person beside him.

Over the past few months, the image of Meng Xian in his mind had undergone a quiet transformation.

When they first met, he had seen her as calm, serious, and perhaps a bit aloof. But as they spent more time together, he discovered layers to her personality that he hadn't expected.

For one, Meng Xian wasn't nearly as calm and serious as she appeared. She had a playful side, one that emerged in moments like this, where she orchestrated a surprise using rolled-up newspapers and a homemade cake.

She could be mischievous, lighthearted, and even a bit silly, breaking the mold of the reserved mentor he had first known.

And then there was her relationship with money—an aspect of her that had puzzled him. Meng Xian wasn't reckless with her finances, but she also didn't shy away from investing in herself, even if it meant living frugally.

She lived paycheck to paycheck, often overdrawing her salary to pay for courses or experiences that she deemed valuable. Yet, despite this, she managed to maintain a sense of balance, never letting herself fall into true financial hardship.

And then there were the other little things he had noticed—how Meng Xian would listen patiently when he needed someone to talk to, offering advice when he felt lost, or simply being there when he needed a friend. She was the kind of person who, despite her own struggles, always seemed to find a way to lift others up.

In some ways, Meng Xian's persistence was a bit of a paradox. She was harsh on herself, pushing herself to the limits of her endurance, yet she was unusually generous when it came to others.

Like now, with the birthday cake she had painstakingly made herself. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about who she was.

Zhou Mingrui looked at the cake again, his heart swelling with a warmth that had nothing to do with the sweetness of the strawberries or the softness of the cream. It was the effort, the thought, the care that had gone into it that moved him.

In this quiet moment, surrounded by the fading light of day, with Meng Xian by his side and Starlight purring contentedly, Zhou Mingrui felt a deep and abiding happiness.

For the first time in a long while, his birthday felt like more than just a number. It felt like a celebration—a real, heartfelt celebration.

A slender, white hand with distinct joints extended in front of Zhou Mingrui, holding a neatly folded brown scarf. The fabric looked soft and warm, with just a hint of intricate knitting patterns that suggested someone had put great care into crafting it.

Zhou Mingrui blinked, surprised, and followed the hand with his gaze until he met Meng Xian's warm, smiling face.

She held the scarf out to him with a gentle smile, her eyes shimmering with a mix of pride and affection. "Here's my gift," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of satisfaction.

"This is the other reason why I've been taking those days off. I made this for you."

For a moment, Zhou Mingrui just stared at the scarf, his mind racing to catch up with his emotions. He wasn't sure what to say, how to react.

The shock of receiving something so personal, something that Meng Xian had clearly invested so much time and effort into, left him momentarily speechless.

He reached out slowly, almost reverently, and took the scarf from her hands, feeling the softness of the wool between his fingers.

"Oh," he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. The simplicity of the word didn't capture the whirlpool of emotions he was feeling, but it was all he could muster at that moment. He cast his eyes down to the scarf, running his fingers over the soft fabric.

"Thank you, Meng. I really appreciate it."

Happiness, shock, gratitude, and joy all surged through him in waves, each emotion tugging at his heart in different ways. His chest felt tight, and his heart began to beat faster, the rhythm quickening with each passing second.

He wasn't sure if it was the surprise of the gift, the warmth of Meng Xian's gesture, or just the simple act of being thought of so deeply, but something in that moment made him feel more alive, more connected, than he had in a long time.

As Zhou Mingrui's gaze drifted towards the small birthday cake beside him, he felt his emotions swell even more.

The cake was simple, but in that simplicity, it was perfect. On top of it were three whole red strawberries, bright and juicy, lightly stacked on top of the delicately decorated cream flowers.

The cream wasn't the typical stark white; instead, it had a soft, pale hue, and the flowers weren't the usual roses. Zhou Mingrui leaned in closer, carefully examining the intricate design.

After a moment, he realized that the flowers were chrysanthemums—golden chrysanthemums, their petals meticulously crafted with care.

The symbolism wasn't lost on him.

Chrysanthemums were often associated with longevity and joy in many cultures, and the golden variety in particular symbolized wealth and prosperity. It was a thoughtful choice, a meaningful touch that made the cake feel even more special.

Zhou Mingrui felt a lump form in his throat as he took it all in. "Well," he thought to himself, "don't overthink it. Just enjoy the moment."

With that, he picked up the small spoon beside the cake and scooped up a bite.

The moment the cake touched his tongue, he was enveloped in the creamy, rich flavor of the milky sweetness.

The taste wasn't overly sweet or cloying; instead, it was a mellow, comforting sweetness that lingered just long enough to make him smile.

The strawberries added a slight tartness that balanced the cream perfectly, creating a harmonious blend of flavors that made him close his eyes in pure satisfaction.

"Mmmm, yummy," he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible. It was the kind of indulgence that made all the worries of the world melt away, leaving only the simple pleasure of the moment.

He opened his eyes and looked over at Meng Xian, who was watching him with a mix of anticipation and amusement.

Zhou Mingrui couldn't help but smile back at her, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the cake or the scarf but everything to do with her presence.

"Considering the birthday cake you made for me," he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation, "you really know me too well."

Meng Xian chuckled, a soft, melodious sound that made Zhou Mingrui's heart flutter. "Happy birthday, Zhou Mingrui!" she exclaimed, her tone light and cheerful, but with an underlying sincerity that made the words resonate deeply with him.

Zhou Mingrui sighed softly, a genuine smile spreading across his face. He could feel the emotions welling up inside him, emotions he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time—joy, contentment, and a sense of belonging. He looked at the scarf in his hands, then at the cake, and finally at Meng Xian, who had managed to make this day something truly special.

As he gazed into her eyes, he found himself whispering silently in his heart,

"Happy birthday, Zhou Mingrui."