Before her thirtieth birthday, Xiang Man wrote a list of goals:

Change her name

Get a driver’s license

Try cosmetic surgery

Buy a house in a city she likes

Send money back to her family

And at the bottom, underlined twice: Never, ever, return to that mountain.

Shen Weiqing leaned against the nightstand, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips as he studied the paper. His eyes drifted to Xiang Man, who stood at the foot of the bed with her back to him, buttoning up her shirt.

“There’s nothing about relationships on here.”

“What about them?”

“Like falling in love.”

He reached for her wrist, his thumb tracing the calluses on her palm.

“That’s not part of my plan,” Xiang Man said.

“But now you have me.” Shen Weiqing’s voice carried a hint of playfulness. “Shouldn’t I be on there? A nice checkmark next to my name?”

“No.” Xiang Man finished dressing. Her makeup was subtle, refined, but Shen Weiqing knew better – this woman was forged from steel.

She turned to him, her gaze steady, voice unwavering. “You’re not part of my life plan. If I have to choose, you’ll be the one I let go.”

The message couldn’t have been clearer: he was just a temporary distraction, nothing more.

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