“Come, help me out.”
As soon as Ye Meng opened the door, she saw Tai Mingxiao standing outside with a delivery man wearing a bright yellow “Jiaocheng” delivery uniform. Each of them supported one arm of a thoroughly drunk man as they pushed their way in without a word. Before she could speak, Tai Mingxiao said urgently: “Gou Kai was ambushed by Liu Yang’s bunch of bastards downstairs. Let him hide here for a while until he sobers up. I’ve arranged for my secretary to bring clothes over later. Just open the door for her.”
“I won’t,” Ye Meng said, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.
Tai Mingxiao completely ignored her, took off his shoes on his own, and with the delivery man, used all their strength to throw Gou Kai into the bathroom. Then he rushed to the living room and began frantically searching through drawers and cabinets for something to relieve drunkenness.
Seeing Tai Mingxiao so anxious that his gentlemanly demeanor was completely gone, Ye Meng sighed helplessly, walked over to the lowest drawer of the TV cabinet, took out two blisters of pills, and tossed them to him. “The last two pills, don’t know if they’re expired.”
The outer packaging was gone, leaving only two bare blisters of pills with no visible date. Tai Mingxiao looked at them for a while. “Do you have anything else?”
Ye Meng sat lazily on the TV cabinet, spreading her hands. “That’s all I have.”
The two exchanged a glance, and Tai Mingxiao steeled himself, walked in, and told Gou Kai without batting an eye: “Just bought them. Take the medicine. I’m going downstairs to deal with those bastards. You rest here at Ye Meng’s place. When you feel better, come down. We can’t let them off so easily tonight.”
Both in the antique business, Gou Kai, though seeming calculating, was at least sincere and had a natural reverence for cultural relics. Liu Yang’s group was purely in it for the money. The antique business was deep and profitable, exploiting people’s speculative nature and greed by making exaggerated claims. Whatever treasures came into their hands, even if truly worth millions, would just gather dust in their warehouses. To put it bluntly, it was a fraud company.
Originally, the two companies didn’t interfere with each other’s business, but Liu Yang was like a stick in the corner, always exerting pressure in the shadows. This time, he happened to exploit a loophole, using Wang Xingsheng’s incident as an excuse.
“This Weibo account specializes in exposing industry gossip,” Tai Mingxiao handed over his phone. “They’ve been targeting us for a long time. When Wang Xingsheng died, I knew they would come out to spread rumors and confuse the public. Sure enough, after just a few days, they blamed Wang Xingsheng’s suicide on our Wanxing company.”
Ye Meng and her colleagues ran a legitimate art investment company with proper auction licenses. But in the industry, there were many shell companies, even those without proper auction licenses. With salespeople’s sweet talk, they convinced collectors that their possessions, which might not be worth even 2,000 yuan, were worth hundreds of thousands. The collectors willingly signed contracts requiring them to pay 30,000 or 40,000 yuan upfront for appraisal and safekeeping fees, driven by wishful thinking. You couldn’t even sue them because the contract terms were legal, and most ordinary people didn’t understand contracts well, hastily signing after a glance. If friends advised caution, they would become indignant, thinking their friends were hindering their path to wealth. When the contract period ended, the items were returned, they took the 30,000 or 40,000 yuan, and the business was considered successful.
But legitimate art investment companies like Ye Meng’s didn’t require any advance fees, nor did they have so-called appraisal fees. They only took a commission after successfully auctioning the collection. In recent years, with intense industry competition and many new players, they have been splashed with unfounded accusations. Client suicides were not uncommon in the industry, but Ye Meng’s company dealt with experienced collectors from home and abroad, making suicide cases practically nonexistent. Wang Xingsheng was the first, and now that their competitors had found a point of attack, they were determined to smear them relentlessly.
“Saying Wang Xingsheng committed suicide because we scammed him out of his treasure. Please, I never even saw a shadow of that ring from beginning to end. I can see Liu Yang has been working hard behind the scenes. All this ‘insider reveals’ nonsense—I can tell from the pixelated profile picture that it’s this son of a bitch.”
Ye Meng scanned the post and suddenly understood why Tai Mingxiao was so furious. One of Liu Yang’s comments read: [Wanxing is a shady company. Both the CEO and VP are rich kids with dirty backgrounds. That VP thinks he’s a ladies’ man, but he’s short as hell, like a melon squash. Drives a Lamborghini, but the man’s not even as tall as his car.]
“I can tolerate personal attacks, but he’s spreading rumors that my family background is dirty. My grandparents worked hard farming for the country their entire lives,” Tai Mingxiao put away his phone, ready to storm out fiercely. “I’m going downstairs now. I’ll kill that bastard.”
When it came to drinking, not even several Liu Yangs could match Tai Mingxiao. Ye Meng made a sound of agreement, and with her arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, casually asked, “By the way, did Wang Xingsheng leave all his assets to his wife? Is the ring with her too?”
“Probably,” Tai Mingxiao was momentarily confused, putting on his shoes while asking somewhat disoriented, “Are you still thinking about the contract?”
Ye Meng shook her head. “No, you go first. We’ll talk later.”
Tai Mingxiao nodded, took the remaining hangover pill in advance, and left with the gathered fury of an impending storm to claim Liu Yang’s dog head.
“Have you been spreading rumors with them!” The dog’s head was suddenly slammed, whimpering pitifully with its tail drooping, seemingly a bit unconvinced. The old lady, sitting in her wheelchair, scolded Ping’an harshly: “Those stray dogs are still blocking the alley entrance. Did you tell them I beat you?”
The old lady made as if to raise her hand again, and Ping’an lifted its front paw to press down her hand. The skin between its eyes furrowed, with a helpless expression that seemed to say, “Can’t we talk things out without resorting to violence?”
Li Jin Yu brought over the noodles, placed them on the table, lazily tapped his index finger on the table, said “eat” to the old lady, then turned back to the kitchen and prepared a small bowl of noodles for Ping’an.
After finishing its noodles, Ping’an lay on the ground watching the tall figure moving in and out.
The old lady had become picky about food lately, finding everything bland. When unhappy, she would grumble endlessly, picking on Ping’an. Li Jin Yu prepared some pickled vegetables for her and stir-fried sour cabbage with tofu for her to eat alongside her meal, telling her to leave Ping’an alone.
Ping’an gratefully nuzzled against his long legs with whimpers, only to be unceremoniously pushed away. He turned to add some water to the pot while the old lady slurped her noodles in the living room, chatting with him intermittently.
“Do you still not want to have children?”
“Mm.”
“Why? Children are so adorable.”
Li Jin Yu leaned against the kitchen counter as the pot simmered, steaming. He turned off the heat, dished out the food, brought the last plate to the old lady, then returned to clean the kitchen, saying: “As I’ve said before, I can’t raise them well. And I don’t find them adorable.”
“Maybe Ye Meng would like them?”
The moonlight was hazy, the spring chill biting, with cold permeating the night. Outside the fence, several children were playfully setting off firecrackers. Li Jin Yu, wrapped in a warm coat, leaned against the fish tank in the yard smoking, watching those carefree children. He seemed to see Ye Meng that day outside the farmers’ market, cigarette between her fingers, leaning against a utility pole, animatedly telling stories to those children.
That day, he sat in Jiang Luzhi’s car, moved by the vibrant smile in her eyes.
It was as if through a long kaleidoscope – on his side was a monotonous black picture, while she possessed a world of ever-changing, colorful splendor. He felt like a peeper, looking through a prism at the world on the other side – her mature rationality, her gentle exuberance, her uninhibited passion. He was deeply attracted, shamelessly and secretly enjoying her bold, fervent pursuit.
Ye Meng’s witty banter wasn’t selective about her audience. Watching her earnestly fool those children, he had wanted to laugh at the time. The story was originally a tragedy, and the so-called hero was just an illusion. Humans deified them, labeling ordinary people as “heroes,” forcing them to repeatedly go forth to save the Earth, while ordinary people comfortably enjoyed their ordinariness.
Until the last hero died and Earth was invaded. Perhaps to preserve the beauty in children’s hearts, she hadn’t told them the story’s ending.
Li Jin Yu thought that even if they had children in the future, they might still fight over education. Thinking of this, he involuntarily lowered his head and smiled, extinguished his cigarette, and turned to go back inside. The living room was dark; the old lady had already gone to sleep and turned off the lights. He went to the kitchen for a glass of water, then felt his way back to his room in the dark.
Li Jin Yu had just sat down and lazily picked up his book when he realized the video call with Ye Meng was still connected. He was about to ask if her takeout had arrived when he heard a familiar voice coming through the speaker.
“Where’s Tai Mingxiao?”
The screen was pitch black, only voices could be heard. Ye Meng’s phone was probably flipped over, the screen facing down.
Li Jin Yu also flipped his phone over, screen down.
Ye Meng said: “Downstairs. Once you’ve changed clothes, hurry down.”
Outside the window was silence, with only a few stars hanging desolately in the deep twilight. Whether out of consideration for his eavesdropping state of mind or not, the cats that usually howled day and night were quietly lying still, not calling out in the heat. The peach blossoms outside the yard were especially eye-catching, blooming silently in full glory.
Li Jin Yu hadn’t even had time to take off his coat, and now, afraid of drawing attention from the other side, he could only sit motionless in his chair still wearing that extremely warm coat. The old lady was sensitive to cold, so the heating had been on in the house for the past few days, making it unbearably hot. He felt like a fireball inside and out, with his organs seemingly burning up as well. His arms rested loosely on the table, veins bulging.
Gou Kai sighed long and helplessly, “How did you meet that guy?”
“Who? My husband?”
“Yes.”
“What’s it to you?”
“You can tell Tai Mingxiao but not me? Seems like you still have feelings for me?”
“You’re crazy. Why don’t you think I might hate you?”
“Hatred is born from love,” Gou Kai laughed with ease. “Come on, tell me. Where’s your husband from? From Ningsu?”
“No comment. Change your clothes and get downstairs quickly.”
Gou Kai laughed mockingly, “What, is he that embarrassing to mention? Well, what kind of decent man could come from that small town of yours? Or maybe you’re not even married and you’re lying to me? Hmm?”
“Do you want me to show you our marriage certificate?”
“Sure.”
Ye Meng went silent. Perhaps she didn’t want to show him.
Li Jin Yu’s expression turned cold. He held a pen, aimlessly scribbling on paper. He didn’t know what he was drawing, and because it would make noise, he couldn’t vent freely and recklessly. He could only trace lightly on the paper, appearing extremely focused, like a child just learning to draw.
Gou Kai tossed something over, and a short “pat” sound came through the speaker.
Gou Kai said: “The key to Jingyuan. Weren’t you interested in that house before? I bought it for you. Ye Meng, I hope you’ll stay. He doesn’t deserve you.”
Li Jin Yu’s phone died. He didn’t hear any sound, instinctively looked up, and saw the screen had gone black.
He turned back with a cold smile and began to draw on the paper with force and abandon. At this moment, he no longer felt hot at all. His heart felt as if someone had doused it with a bucket of ice water, suddenly turning cold.
Li Jin Yu leaned in his chair, wearing a warm coat with the front open. Sweat from his forehead trickled down his smooth, stern face and into his collar. He continued drawing expressionlessly, not caring when the paper tore. He kept drawing until the ink faded, leaving only chaotic and wild traces, like sand trampled by countless wheels, crisscrossing in disarray.
“Bang!” He suddenly threw down the pen. The cat on the wall jumped down in fright, meowing twice in terror.
The pen tip, along with his unexpressed anger, forcefully pierced the screen window. He only looked at it coldly, as if accustomed to it.
Ye Meng noticed something was wrong with Li Jin Yu and immediately took leave to return to Ningsu. Before leaving, she called Liang Yun’an, asking him to contact her immediately if there was any progress with the case. Liang Yun’an agreed, revealing some case developments: “It’s about ninety percent certain. I’ll discuss the details with you when there’s new progress next week.”
When Ye Meng boarded the plane, she sent Li Jin Yu a message but still received no reply. As the flight attendant gave the final reminder to turn off phones, Ye Meng hurriedly reviewed their conversations from the past two days.
[Lemon Leaf: Darling, video chat later?] [LJY: No. Busy.] [Lemon Leaf: Okay, tomorrow then.] [LJY: Mm.]
During their video call the next day, Li Jin Yu seemed much colder than usual, spending most of the time silently reading. Occasionally, he would look up at her. When Ye Meng asked for a kiss, he refused.
Ye Meng took an early morning flight and then transferred to a high-speed train. By the time she reached Ningsu, it was evening. The sunset pressed heavily on the horizon, the entire scene as red as if it were the prelude to a volcanic eruption at the end of days.
Ye Meng put down her luggage, not even taking time to exchange words with the old lady, and hurriedly rushed to Li Jin Yu’s home.
Li Jin Yu wasn’t home; only his grandmother was there, watering flowers in the yard. The front door was wide open, suggesting Li Jin Yu had left not long ago. The old lady turned around, saw Ye Meng, and enthusiastically waved at her: “My little granddaughter-in-law is back! Come here, let grandma see if you’ve gained weight.”
Ye Meng walked in with a smile. She still wore her usual gray suit, casual but mature and capable. On her feet were high heels that clicked loudly in this small, damp three-bedroom apartment. She asked with a smile: “How’s your health, Grandma?”
“Much better,” Gou Juhua said. “Li Jin Yu took Ping’an for a walk. They just left a little while ago.”
In front of her grandmother, Ye Meng was impatient, almost wanting to fly to Li Jin Yu immediately. But in front of Li Jin Yu’s grandmother, she showed less urgency, chatting with the old lady for a while. Her talent for witty conversation was on display now – she could talk about anything. A person who hadn’t returned to the small town for more than half a month in Beijing could still bring up local topics to amuse the old lady, speaking with relish.
The old lady laughed so hard her false teeth nearly fell out. “How did you know? Old Wang who sells baked flatbread was just arrested recently.”
This showed how Ye Meng maintained interpersonal relationships. Sometimes people need common topics. She was in Beijing, Li Jin Yu in Ningsu. Over time, they might run out of things to say because of the geographic distance. So from time to time, she would ask Fang Ya’en about town happenings, ensuring she and Li Jin Yu never lacked common ground. If two people always talked about their affairs, they would quickly lose patience.
“I know everything,” Ye Meng said with a smile.
The old lady was even more delighted. The two chatted randomly for a while. As darkness fell and dusk settled, the front door stood open, with no sign of Li Jin Yu’s return. Ye Meng grew restless, unable to sit still any longer.
“Grandma, I’m going out for a smoke.”
The old lady understood perfectly, looking at her knowingly and hinting: “This child has been walking for so long today, most likely he’s gone to find Ping’an’s girlfriend again.”
“Ping’an has a steady girlfriend?” Ye Meng was somewhat shocked.
“Well,” the old lady thought for a moment, carefully choosing her words, “not too steady. Maybe one a month.”
Ye Meng smoked a cigarette at the entrance, then followed the old lady’s directions and walked along the alley. On the way, she met the old man practicing tai chi sword with a salted fish, feeling a sense of familiarity. “Impressive, Grandpa.”
The old man was quite aloof, rolling his eyes without really acknowledging her, executing another horizontal slash that created a strong gust of wind as he glided past her.
Looking up again, she stopped in her tracks. At the end of the twilight alley stood a man she had been thinking of day and night, leading a dog. Behind him stretched a long shadow. His slender, tall figure appeared particularly incongruous in this old, dim, narrow alley.
Too handsome, too young. Completely at odds with this dilapidated, ancient street that seemed lifeless. The winds of the old alley seemed to blow in from all directions, carrying the roadside willow strands, like a young man’s waist, momentarily preventing her from moving her feet.
It had been a long time since she had seen him face-to-face, alive and vibrant before her eyes. For a moment, as Li Jin Yu entered her field of vision, she was still stunned by his beauty.
He looked completely undressed up, wearing casual clothes – a white t-shirt underneath with an open blue denim shirt, topped with a thin down jacket, his unchanging track pants with cuffs rebelliously tucked into his boots. He looked lazy, but somehow as if he had deliberately dressed up.
The salted fish old man suddenly said beside her ear: “Your man, right? He’s been lingering here for a long time. Take him away quickly; he’s affecting my fish practice!”
Ye Meng walked over wanting to hug him, but before she got close, the young willow seemed to be bumped at the waist. She saw him with one hand holding Ping’an’s leash and the other in his pocket, ignoring her completely as he stepped around her. “Ping’an, let’s go home.”
Ye Meng stood awkwardly in place for a moment, embarrassedly withdrawing her open arms, and could only sheepishly follow, reaching for his hand in his pocket, looking up at him. “Are you angry?”
He didn’t pull away, allowing her to hold his hand, glancing down at her. “Why are you back?”
“Didn’t you see my message?”
“Didn’t check my phone.”
“Bullshit. Then who did you dress up for today?” Ye Meng called him out and genuinely surrendering to the beauty before her eyes, added a compliment, “I rarely see you dressed like this. Very handsome.”
“For Ping’an’s girlfriend, okay?” he retorted.