At the end of the year, Liyan couldn't spend Christmas with John. She had to return to China before the universities closed for winter break to attend job interviews. Ideally, she wanted to find a job in the UK and avoid job hunting in China. However, things didn't go as planned. Professor Li informed her that while several British museums were impressed with her resume, they were fully staffed. If she didn't mind, she could start as an unpaid volunteer. If someone retired or left and she performed well, there might be a permanent position for her.

　　Unpaid volunteer work sounded noble and didn't violate labor laws, but such "jobs" were still highly sought after in the UK. The British museum world was a classic example of a close-knit society where opportunities were often secured through connections rather than merit. Getting a job at a museum was often due to having an uncle who was a benefactor or a mother who was best friends with the curator in college. Even with these connections, the low salaries and volunteer system hinted at an unspoken truth: most young job seekers came from wealthy families who could afford to support them. Liyan's financial situation made it impossible for her to work unpaid for several years at the start of her career.

　　Just before heading to the airport, Liyan put on the cashmere coat John had bought her and carefully applied her makeup. She wanted her beautiful image to linger in John's mind a little longer.

　　At the airport, John kissed her gently on the lips. Uncharacteristically, Liyan hugged him tightly, kissing him passionately in front of everyone. Besides her intense longing, she poured her pain of separation and anxiety about the future into that kiss. John responded with equal fervor. It felt like they wanted to meld into one, never to be apart.

　　The boarding announcement echoed through the terminal, sounding gratingly loud to Liyan.

　　John gently pushed her away and noticed tears in her eyes. He smiled and comforted her, "Don't act like we won't see each other again."

　　"When I’m back in China, you better not flirt with any other women," Liyan teased.

　　"My heart is only so big; it can't fit anyone else," John said, making a tiny gesture with his hand.

　　"You’re such a sweet talker."

　　"Go on, board the plane. Nail that interview. I'll be here waiting for you."

　　Only then did Liyan, looking back every few steps, walk into the departure gate.

　　The interviews went exceptionally well. Liyan’s impressive academic background and accomplishments left even the most critical interviewers with nothing to criticize. Some universities offered her a relocation allowance on the spot if she accepted their offer. Others promised her a lecturer position straight away, bypassing the assistant level entirely.

　　One institution eagerly invited her to tour their new campus, which was still under construction. The noise from the pile drivers on the dusty site was maddening, but the head of the personnel office raised his voice to introduce Liyan to the facilities. “This will be the most well-equipped humanities research building in central China,” he shouted, spittle flying. “That empty lot will house the largest single teaching building in Asia, and the faculty offices will be right next door, complete with central air conditioning.” Liyan nodded awkwardly, slowly stepping back.

　　Some institutions wanted her to sign a contract as soon as the spring semester started. She excused herself, saying Oxford University would start its term in mid-January and she needed to be back before then. This was true, but in reality, Professor Li had given her an extended leave, allowing her plenty of time to sort out her job search before returning to the UK.

　　Before the Lunar New Year was over, Liyan was on a plane back to the UK. The moment her plane landed in London, she received about a dozen job offers from China, but none of them satisfied her. She delayed signing any contracts, using the excuse of not having yet received her doctorate to buy time. Despite the offers from Chinese universities and museums, she viewed them as last resorts.

　　While Liyan was stressed about her job prospects, Anna was going through a breakup with her boyfriend.

　　"Mael is still downstairs. It's the seventh day," Liyan said, peeking through the curtains at Mael, who was waiting under the streetlight, hoping Anna would take him back. Liyan felt a pang of sympathy. "Why don’t you get back with him? You’ve had three years together."

　　"Close the curtains. I want him to give up," Anna said firmly.

　　"You’re so heartless. Even if you break up, it should be on good terms."

　　"A clean break is better. Dragging it out only prolongs the pain."

　　"All I see is Mael in pain. Doesn’t his persistence move you at all?"

　　"He’s moved by himself. He thinks he's Romeo, but I’m not playing Juliet."

　　"Playing? Was your relationship just an act?"

　　"We were serious. I still love him."

　　"If you love him, why break up?"

　　"Mael is sweet and funny. He speaks romantic words as naturally as breathing, making me very happy. But sweet words don’t fill your stomach. Even if we got back together, the same issues would still be there. A man who can’t plan a future with you isn’t worth the commitment."

　　"What’s Mael planning to do after graduation?"

　　"He wants to take a gap year to visit indigenous tribes in Africa and the Pacific islands. He’s recently gotten into anthropology. He has no long-term plans; he’s just going with the flow. Am I supposed to wander the world with him?"

　　"Mael is still a romantic dreamer."

　　"He’s a big boy who doesn’t want to take responsibility."

　　Anna was truly one of those rare, clear-headed individuals. No wonder she had managed to navigate through all the challenges life threw at her. Last week, she received the acceptance letter from the Brera Academy of Fine Arts in Milan, her dream job. Overjoyed, Anna kissed the letter twice.

　　"Thank goodness I didn’t end up unemployed after graduation. I still have a ton of student loans to pay off," Anna said, half-jokingly.

　　Anna was born in a rough neighborhood in Naples, a place where you couldn’t see the sea. It was all dust, the roar of trains, and neighbors yelling at each other. The residents there had tempers as volatile as Mount Vesuvius, ready to explode at any moment. To make a living without joining the Camorra and becoming a gangster’s henchman, Anna’s father made the tough decision to move the family away from the neighborhood.

　　Leaving that neighborhood was the best decision her father ever made. She saw men holding umbrellas for women on the beach of the Bay of Naples, women feeding their kids ice cream, and kids using their fingers to push ice cream into their fathers’ mouths. There were no insults or fists flying, just families enjoying peaceful afternoons and then returning to their hotels for elegant dinners. Before resigning herself to her fate, Anna discovered another side of life. Otherwise, she would have thought that the violence and poverty of the rough neighborhood were all there was to the world.

　　Anna’s father found work on construction sites in Naples, and Anna spent her childhood in various workers' shacks. It wasn’t until she entered high school that the family had a permanent home.

　　Anna was gifted in her studies, but her father asked her to drop out due to financial difficulties.

　　"No, I want to study," she insisted.

　　"What’s the point of a girl studying? Your brother didn’t go to high school either."

　　"I have better grades than he does. I want to study."

　　Her father's response was a slap in the face, born out of his frustration at being unable to provide for his children’s education despite working hard his whole life. But the slap landed heavily on Anna’s face. Neapolitan men were used to expressing complex emotions like love and frustration through violence, a legacy they inherited from their own fathers.

　　Anna refused to give up easily. She sought help from her homeroom teacher, Ms. Marino, who had a soft spot for good students and agreed to visit Anna’s home.

　　"Mr. Bruno, your daughter is very talented academically. Please support her," Ms. Marino pleaded.

　　Despite being a rough man, Mr. Bruno respected the teaching profession. He confessed, "I want to support her, but I have no money."

　　"Your family can apply for a student loan."

　　"Will Anna be able to become someone like you if she studies?"

　　"She will surpass me. Let her come to my house for tutoring after school. She needs a little more preparation for the classical high school."

　　"Anna, come here," Mr. Bruno relented. "You can continue your studies, but you must be the top of your class."

　　"Alright."

　　"Not just the top of your class, but the top of the entire grade. You need to do better than those boys in the other classes."

　　"Alright."

　　"If you come in second, you will drop out."

　　"Alright."

　　To continue her studies, Anna agreed to any condition. Her perseverance paid off, and by the time she was accepted into the University of Bologna, she was the only student from a rough neighborhood in her class. Anna didn’t just excel academically; she also played an active role in the school newspaper, with over twenty of her articles published before graduation.

　　The career advisor suggested she consider teaching positions at several high schools in Naples, but Anna responded firmly, “I want to teach at a university in the north.”

　　“I admit you’re a talented writer, but you can’t shake your southern accent. You won’t earn the respect of students up north. University teaching? There are so few female professors in Italian universities. Anna, you need to be realistic,” the advisor scoffed at her ambitions.

　　But Anna was driven and undeterred by negativity. Her studies were a way to escape the chaos and violence of Naples; her life was a fight to raise her social standing. You never need to worry about someone like Anna—she's clear about her goals, tenacious, and capable of being tough on herself and others when needed. She’s like a relentless Scarlett O’Hara, destined to carve out her own path wherever she goes.

　　“How’s your job search going?” Anna asked Liyan.

　　“As a government-funded student, I’m expected to return to China. Right now, I’ve received several job offers from museums there, but the pay is too low. Two universities have offered interviews for teaching positions, but none are in Shanghai. I’m torn about whether to go back.”

　　“What’s the pay like for museums and universities in China?”

　　“About £300 a month.”

　　“Good grief!” Anna exclaimed, her eyes widening. “That’s even lower than Italy’s minimum living wage.”

　　“Exactly. How else can you explain that in China, working on atomic bombs pays less than selling tea eggs, and being an academic is less valued than being an actor?”

　　Anna remarked, “It’s clear that the country uses the guise of dedicating oneself to research and serving the nation to exploit scientists cheaply. While scientists shouldn’t chase fame and fortune, the country should establish a fair compensation system. An easy high reward without much effort is definitely a sign of an unfair distribution system.”

　　Liyan sighed, “Seniors working in museums complain that their salaries only cover the basics and advise me not to jump into the fire. One of my seniors switched to a securities firm and now earns in a month what he used to make in a year. Another senior passed the civil service exam, and after securing a position, realized her high moral standards were just setting her up for hardship.”

　　“Preaching contentment with poverty is a form of moral coercion. Despite the recent economic downturn in the UK, it remains a leader in research with high social status for researchers. If you can stay in the UK, that would be ideal. Have you and John discussed your future together?” Anna hit on the heart of the matter.

　　Before studying abroad, Liyan had vowed to make the most of her government-funded opportunity and return home to build a career. She had braced herself for financial hardship, but she soon realized that life didn’t demand such sacrifices or grand achievements. Life isn’t an epic tale; it’s about a comfortable income, a cozy home, and a loving partner. Those who chase heroic dreams often find themselves battered by reality, while those who see life’s true face benefit early on, gaining the power to define and shape the lives of others.

　　She no longer hid her desire to stay in the UK. If others could enjoy the rewards of their hard work without shame, why shouldn’t she? But her student visa barred her from working in the UK, so the only foolproof solution was to marry John.

　　Liyan had considered raising the issue several times but always hesitated. As a woman, she couldn’t be the one to propose marriage; it would make her seem desperate and cheap. For men, a woman who makes the first move isn’t considered valuable. Yet, John didn’t seem inclined to propose.

　　Liyan was feeling down. “John knows about my job search, but he hasn’t said anything.”

　　Liyan didn’t think John was as unreliable as Mael. She added, “He has a strained relationship with his mother. I don’t want to add to his troubles.”

　　“John’s troubles? He’s a rich kid; no matter how upset his mother is, their blood relation isn’t going to change. Does he have the same ‘graduation equals unemployment’ worries as we do?” Anna said sharply. “His indecision is the scariest part. Keep an eye on him.”

　　Campus life provided a temporary shield from the outside world’s pressures. There’s no such thing as a paradise; Liyan grew increasingly anxious about her uncertain future.

　　As Liyan’s return date approached, John decided to end his cold war with his mother and return home for a while. He planned to lower his stance to win his mother’s sympathy and take the initiative to make amends. At the dinner table, John was distracted and lacked appetite, his heavy thoughts making it hard to focus. He fiddled with his fork, trying to figure out how to bring up a topic he knew his mother would likely reject.

　　No one knows a child like their mother, and Mrs. Huntington was the first to speak. “Is there something you want to say?”

　　“Mom, I want to marry Liyan,” John’s voice was barely a whisper, audible only to himself.

　　“You can’t even support yourself, and you want to get married. Are you really ready to start a family and build a career?” his mother countered.

　　“Liyan isn’t materialistic. She’d be willing to be with me even without money.”

　　“Do you believe that love alone can sustain you? Let’s not even discuss whether she’s interested in your status. All the money you’ve spent on courting her came from the Huntington family. Have you ever earned a penny for the family?”

　　“All you care about is money.”

　　“Without money, could you have attended Eton or Oxford? Without money, could you and Catherine have lived in luxury? Even your postdoctoral position at Morton College was funded by my donation.”

　　Shamed by the truth, John felt mortified and sleepless, planning to slip back to Morton the next morning.

　　Early the next day, while his mother was still asleep, John crept out, only to find her already waiting for him in the sitting room.

　　“John, we need to talk.”

　　John, like a child caught misbehaving, couldn’t bring himself to meet his mother’s gaze.

　　“I have a solution that could work for both of you. You come back to take over the family business, and I’ll approve your marriage to Liyan. But you must commit to fulfilling your duties at Huntington Auction House.”

　　“I don’t want to trade my feelings for your approval.”

　　“You need leverage to make a trade. Consider your and Liyan’s situation. Think carefully about my offer.”

　　Mrs. Huntington didn’t approve of John and Liyan’s relationship, but she saw this as a prime opportunity to persuade John to work at Huntington Auction House.