Zhao Ping Jin had just awakened from his afternoon nap, his arm across his forehead, eyes closed, enduring a slight dizziness.

The room was very quiet, with only the faint sound from the radiator.

He couldn’t help but recall Huang Xi Tang’s voice—so fine, so gentle, as if resigned to fate, without the slightest hint of resistance.

In his hazy state, he remembered that radiant, crystal-clear face, so vividly it seemed like just yesterday. The girl wore a white dress, her face still bearing traces of childishness, standing below the women’s dormitory at the Film Academy, holding two thermos flasks in her hands, head held high as she confidently retorted: “What are you doing? Being a hooligan? Do you know me? Do you understand me? You neither know me nor understand me. What’s the point of pursuing a girl you don’t know?”

Such a wild, interesting, vibrant, lively, and spirited little girl.

When had her personality become so gentle?

Shen Min said on the other end of the phone: “It’s been arranged.”

Zhao Ping Jin said: “That house in Jing’an District, arrange for her to move in.”

Shen Min responded: “Should we add more staff?”

Zhao Ping Jin thought briefly: “Not for now. It’s better to keep it quiet. Let’s see if she finds it suitable first.”

After hanging up, he tried to get up but felt even more dizzy, so he leaned back against the bed. His hand reached toward the bedside table but stopped, remembering that the housekeeper was off today, and his mother had accompanied his father abroad for an inspection tour—there was nobody at home.

This phone by his bed had, for a time, been connected to the main unit in the living room. Five years ago, when he returned from the United States, he had been drinking heavily for work engagements and repeatedly fell ill. During that period, his temper was indeed not good. In his mother Mrs. Zhou’s words, his temper was so bad that cats and dogs despised him, and he didn’t let anyone near. His grandparents worried about his health, fearing he might be in bed with pain and dizziness and need to call someone. When this phone was first installed, there were a few times when he wanted iced wine in the middle of the night and called someone by pressing the bell several times. The entire house was filled with ringing, even disturbing the health doctor. The result was a severe beating from his father.

Later, he dismantled that line himself.

He simply didn’t like his whole family making a fuss over his every little movement.

Zhao Ping Jin withdrew his hand and lay back on the bed, vaguely recalling that night at the Chang’an Club, after Huang Xi Tang had beaten Shen Min ferociously, she and Zhong Qiao were both thrown out.

As soon as Zhong Qiao came out, she twisted her waist, her eyes flashing, lips curled in a smile, and in an instant got into a man’s car.

Xi Tang refused the frivolous offer of a ride from that man who had one hand on Zhong Qiao’s thigh and left the dazzling political-commercial-entertainment club alone.

Zhao Ping Jin’s car pulled out, and he saw a girl walking along the roadside. It was already one or two in the deep night. It was a summer night, and Beijing’s wind carried a clear, dry scent. As the effects of alcohol gradually dissipated, she waited alone on the street for a long time. When no taxi passed by, she took off her high heels and slowly walked toward the school.

Under the huge gray-blue canopy of the night sky, street lights still flickered in the shadows of tall buildings. She walked barefoot, wearing a white pleated long dress, with clean ankles and pearl-like little toes. All by herself, in the street at dawn, she hopped and skipped forward.

Like a big white rabbit milk candy.

The next day, he waited outside the women’s dormitory at the Film Academy.

The first time he saw her in broad daylight—last night she had fought fiercely, but in daylight, he saw that she was so small in stature, with an oval face and white skin. Her eyes were beautiful, with naturally long eyebrows, and a small, crystal-clear face that emitted a faint glow.

It was around five or six in the afternoon, time for classes to end and dinner to begin. Huang Xi Tang was carrying two thermos flasks. From a distance, she saw that in front of Women’s Dormitory No. 2, all the girls began to stop, look aside, whisper, cover their mouths, and giggle, their cheeks glowing. Xi Tang joined in the excitement, seeing a man standing at the entrance of the building—tall, with a handsome face, a hint of a cynical smile at the corner of his mouth, wearing a white pinstriped shirt and casual trousers. There were many good-looking boys at the Film Academy, but his kind of calm and composed demeanor, able to act as if nothing was happening while being surrounded by numerous passersby and the dormitory aunts peeping out—Xi Tang had never seen anyone like that before. Like a prince leisurely riding by in spring, casually spending a fortune. It was only later that she learned that their confident attitude when dealing with girls like them was all similar—it was the most typical expression of privileged and self-satisfied young masters.

Xi Tang tilted her head, looking puzzled at the man who stood in front of her.

Zhao Ping Jin spoke to her: “Huang Xi Tang?”

All eyes instantly shifted to her.

Xi Tang was stunned, but at that moment, it felt as if a little deer gently bumped her heart.

She remembered his voice from that private room last night, at the card table—a sexy, deep voice with a hint of cynicism and a good timbre.

“How do you know my name?”

“We met briefly last night.”

“Why are you looking for me?”

Zhao Ping Jin saw the unease that instantly floated in those clear eyes across from him, and the smile at the corner of his mouth deepened a bit: “Are you free? I’d like to invite you to dinner.”

A burst of ambiguous laughter immediately erupted around them, and Xi Tang’s face began to flush.

Zhao Ping Jin finally reached out, gently supporting her arm, and the two walked a few steps away to a quiet place.

Xi Tang was a bit annoyed: “Why do you want to treat me to dinner?”

Zhao Ping Jin maintained his thin smile: “Let’s be friends.”

Xi Tang immediately stepped back, her thick eyebrows rising, very vigilant: “Why be friends?”

Zhao Ping Jin laughed a bit and said something even more provocative: “I want to pursue you.”

Back then, young and playful, all the young men in Beijing were like this. They had connections and were generous with their money. The prettier girls from art schools were rarely beyond their reach. They had seen many in their circle. Some university girls would even specifically wait outside clubs for luxury cars. Gao Ji Yi met his previous girlfriend that way.

Huang Xi Tang’s radiant face showed a hint of offended anger, which made her appear even more adorably naive: “Do you know me? Do you understand me? You neither know me nor understand me. What’s the point of pursuing a girl you don’t know?”

Zhao Ping Jin’s attitude became unusually sincere: “Have dinner with me, just consider it meeting a new friend, and we can cheer each other up.”

Xi Tang looked back and still saw many girls standing not far away watching the commotion. Xi Tang had seen even more exaggerated situations before. Such things at the Film Academy were all treated as entertainment.

She suddenly smiled: “For you guys, are pretty girls just for cheering up?”

Zhao Ping Jin was completely unconcerned with the surrounding gazes and nodded shamelessly: “More or less, but you seem a bit special.”

Xi Tang glanced toward the roadside again, with a trace of undisguised cunning in her eyes: “Wait a moment.”

Xi Tang turned and walked toward the dormitory, pulled aside a girl standing at the entrance, and the two whispered for a few sentences. That girl then walked toward him.

Later he learned that this was Zhong Qiao, wearing a geometric patchwork spaghetti strap dress, with glamorous makeup even in daylight, walking with a swaying gait, full of charm.

Zhong Qiao approached gracefully, her face bearing a seductive smile. Zhao Ping Jin’s gaze was still on Huang Xi Tang, but unexpectedly, the woman came forward and frankly took his arm: “Mr. Zhao?”

Zhao Ping Jin flung her hand away as if scalded by hot water.

Zhong Qiao giggled coquettishly and pressed her entire body against him: “Mr. Zhao, do you need cheering up? There are so many pretty girls at the Film Academy, how about changing to another one?”

Her chest was almost pressed against his body, and the perfume on her was so strong it almost made him vomit. Zhao Ping Jin was furious and shouted: “Get lost!”

At a glance, he saw that Huang Xi Tang was already standing on the other side of the campus path, supporting herself on her knees, covering her stomach, and laughing uncontrollably. Zhao Ping Jin viciously pushed Zhong Qiao away and strode over, but she had already disappeared like a nimble little fish into the stream of people heading toward the cafeteria.

Huang Xi Tang was extremely adorable when she was young.

Her hair was clean, her skin tender, her eyes constantly carrying a watery brightness, and the curve of her little buttocks was both perky and cute. Later, when they were together, she especially loved to cling to him all the time, the docility and longing revealed in her eyes, that naive and greedy love, as pure as a little animal, both warm and soft.

He was captivated by her overflowing sweet love, yet he worried that she would melt if he held her in his hands, wishing only to cherish her to his very bones.

Cherishing that made his heartache.

He pressed his chest, slowly adjusting his breathing.

He just never expected that in the end, she would stab him deeply in the place where he loved her most.