The World Ends In 27 Days

Zhiyi looked at her, but she couldn’t reply.

After all, the first question remained ahead of this one.

She needed to tell Zeyu that it had been five years since she had last chosen her own dress.

She couldn’t answer the manager until she answered Zeyu.

But before she could turn to look at him, Zeyu had already moved toward the showroom.

"The Chen Family Medical Foundation dinner," he answered, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Black tie, then. We have several appropriate options," replied the manager, already nodding her head.

The woman extended one hand, indicating that Zhiyi should follow her, so Zhiyi did.

This was the assignment.

Enter the store. Select an appropriate dress. Obtain any required accessories. Return to Hanchuan’s office before his meetings ended.

The sequence was straightforward.

She could complete it.

Zeyu had misunderstood her silence, but he didn’t appear offended by it. That meant she still had time to correct the impression once she finished answering his first question.

She still had time to not look like an idiot around him.

The private salon had been prepared for them, but it wasn’t quite private yet.

Two assistants waited beside a low platform. Another stood near a rack holding at least twenty dresses. A seamstress wore a pincushion around one wrist. A fifth woman approached with a tray while the manager asked whether they wanted refreshments.

"Tea, coffee or sparkling water?" asked one of the two women.

"Water," Zeyu said before Zhiyi could start panicking over the new questions that needed to be answered only after the old questions had been answered.

"Still or sparkling?"

"Still."

"Room temperature or chilled?"

"Chilled."

"With lemon?"

"No."

The woman left and Zeyu glanced at Zhiyi. "See? It’s easy."

Zhiyi didn’t bother to say anything. It had only been easy because he had answered it all.

The manager directed Zhiyi toward the center of the salon, where the light was brighter. The assistants moved with her. One reached toward the back of Zhiyi’s shirt, apparently intending to check the label.

Zhiyi stepped away before she could touch it.

"No assistance," Zeyu interjected, remembering Hanchuan’s instructions.

The woman withdrew her hand. "Certainly. May I take her measurements over her clothes?"

Zeyu looked at Zhiyi, transferring the responsibility of answering the question over to her.

Four people waited, but Zhiyi couldn’t answer it yet. She tried to speak anyway and the first question filled her mouth.

Five years.

But that number had no relationship to measurements or to the current question. If she answered it right now, she would be looked down on. Then Zeyu would look down on Hanchuan and Zhiyi couldn’t let that happen.

So, she just closed her lips again.

"Yes," Zeyu decided when the silence started to become awkward. "Over her clothes."

he measuring tape touched Zhiyi’s shoulders, chest, waist and hips. The assistant spoke each number aloud. Another entered them into a tablet while the manager watched.

"Do you have a preferred silhouette, Miss Qiao?"

Zhiyi pressed her thumb into her palm.

"Something elegant," Zeyu answered. "Nothing too dramatic."

"A-line or column?"

Zeyu’s attention shifted to the rack, but the assistant was still looking at Zhiyi to answer the question.

A-line allowed a wider stride. Column silhouettes varied according to construction. Either could be appropriate for black tie. The correct answer depended upon fabric, fit, footwear and the expected amount of movement during the evening.

Before she could organize the variables, the assistant holding the measuring tape asked, "Would you prefer sleeves?"

Another woman lifted two dresses from the rack. "How does she feel about an open back?"

"She’s right here," the manager reminded her gently, then smiled at Zhiyi. "Would you be comfortable with that?"

The effort to appear polite required eye contact so Zhiyi looked at the manager.

She still hadn’t answered Zeyu’s first question.

The manager waited, but Zhiyi could see a brief look of irritation that she was taking too long to answer.

"I—" Zhiyi said, her tongue starting to feel too big for her mouth. The sound was garbled, but she couldn’t help it.

"How about we narrow it down?" Zeyu smiled gently.

Relief came so quickly that Zhiyi’s fingers almost opened.

"Hanchuan gave me instructions," he continued with a conspiratorial smile.

Zhiyi turned toward him. "He did?" Just hearing Hanchuan’s name coming from Zeyu’s mouth was enough to ease some of the anxiety flowing through her. The two words emerged quietly, but at least they still managed to come out.

Zeyu smiled, apparently pleased to have obtained a response. "He told me exactly how to do this. One decision at a time."

Hanchuan understood.

The certainty loosened something inside her chest.

This would make everything better.

Zeyu faced her fully. "Do you like dark blue, black or green?" he asked cheerfully.

Three colors. One decision.

Zhiyi looked at him and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she started to feel like her head was turning into a balloon.

She needed to answer Zeyu’s first question before she answered this one. All questions had to be answered in the order that they had been delivered in.

But Hanchuan had instructed him to ask about the correct color. That might give it priority over when the last time she had bought a dress.

Unless Hanchuan didn’t know about the questions Zeyu had asked during the drive. Then the original order remained intact because new instructions couldn’t retroactively remove an unfinished task.

Five years.

Dark blue, black or green.

The dinner was black tie. That resolved one variable, but not enough of them. Dark blue could mean navy, midnight or cobalt. Black was safe for most evening functions, although it could appear severe depending upon the cut. Green depended upon shade, undertone and fabric.

The event was being held in early autumn.

She was attending as Hanchuan’s guest.

She didn’t know her relationship to the Chen family.

She didn’t know whether photographs would be released publicly or whether her presence beside Hanchuan was intended to communicate anything.

"Zhiyi?" Zeyu prompted, waiting for her answer.

Every person in the salon was now looking at her for an answer that she didn’t have the correct variables to give.

Her right hand closed around her left and Zeyu noticed the movement but interpreted it incorrectly.

"That’s fine," he said breezily. "We can leave color for now." He gave her an encouraging smile. "Long or short?"

Floor length was safest for black tie.

Except the correct hem depended upon shoe height. They hadn’t selected shoes. Alterations required time, and Zeyu had said they had enough but not an unlimited amount.

"What length do you usually wear?" the manager asked.

"Would you prefer something easier to walk in?" one assistant added.

"We have several tea-length dresses if she doesn’t want a gown," another said.

Formal shoes.

Shoe size.

Heels.

Dancing.

Ability to dance.

Full length.

Tea length.

Easier movement.

The questions remained in order even as their answers became dependent upon one another.

Zhiyi took in a deep breath, feeling like there was a pressure on her chest. She knew this feeling.

If she didn’t get ahold of herself, she would have a full blown panic attack here, in front of everyone... and that wouldn’t leave a favorable impression on Zeyu.

She needed to get ahold of herself.