Zhao Ping Jin left the next afternoon.

Zhao Ping Jin went to the outdoor filming location to find her, on a hillside near the village. A few wild trees grew haphazardly, and in the distant mountaintops, the anti-Japanese war film set occasionally sent out rumbling explosion sounds, orange flames illuminating a layer of mountain mist. Xi Tang walked out from the set; he just wanted her to see him off.

Zhao Ping Jin gave her the house keys. The two said a few words outside. Zhao Ping Jin had to catch a flight, checked the time, and was about to leave.

Xi Tang wore a long, loosely fitted wig, her face made up, smoking and waiting under a tree, watching him back out the car.

Her expression was indifferent, the wind constantly messing up her hair.

Zhao Ping Jin drove the car to her side, suddenly remembered something, lowered the window, and sitting in the driver’s seat, spoke to Huang Xi Tang: “You hid that jade bell?”

Xi Tang smiled and answered: “That’s mine.”

Zhao Ping Jin frowned: “Give it to me, it’s mine.”

Xi Tang had a pair of identical jade bells at home, translucent green, polished very delicately. When Xi Tang went to Beijing for university, her mother had brought them to her, repeatedly emphasizing that she must keep them safe. When they were together, Zhao Ping Jin bought her various clothes, shoes, and jewelry, and later even gave her a house. Xi Tang felt she really couldn’t accept it, but Zhao Ping Jin insisted, so she gave him one of her treasured bells.

He had a mischievous look at the time, leaning close to her ear saying: “Does this count as an engagement? I should ask your mother to let you marry me.”

Xi Tang was sweetly pleased and pounced on him, pinching him: “You wish.”

Sometimes when Xi Tang called her mother, Zhao Ping Jin would be beside her, unable to join the conversation, his demeanor respectful.

Several times after Xi Tang hung up, he would say: “Won’t you let me say a word to my mother-in-law?”

Xi Tang would blush. Having a secret relationship in college, she was still afraid her mother would be unhappy: “Wait until I graduate and start working.”

Later she did graduate and start working, but ended up alone.

Zhao Ping Jin had kept this bell all along, placing it in the medication bag that his assistant would carry with him when he went out. Besides Huang Xi Tang, no one had touched his car.

Xi Tang smiled: “What use is it to you?”

Zhao Ping Jin laughed coldly: “You’ve taken so much money from me, and you want to take back even a small trinket you gave me?”

Xi Tang said quietly: “I’ll give you something else. A few years ago when my mother was sick and had surgery, she wanted to see this pair of bells. I couldn’t find both, so I didn’t dare show her.”

Zhao Ping Jin was stunned for a second, then asked: “What illness did your mother have?”

Xi Tang, not wanting to discuss it further, said: “She’s fine now.”

Zhao Ping Jin looked at her: “I’m going.”

Xi Tang smoked, nodding slightly.

Zhao Ping Jin started the car, the engine purring softly. He stepped on the accelerator, and the car drove forward. Less than five meters away, he suddenly braked.

Xi Tang still stood in place.

The black SUV drove straight back.

The window lowered, Zhao Ping Jin sat upright in the driver’s seat, looking down at her, saying forcefully: “Quit smoking.”

Xi Tang still held the cigarette, gesturing toward the sky: “What business is it of yours?”

Zhao Ping Jin’s tone was firm: “I can’t stand the smell of smoke.”

She couldn’t be bothered by the holes in his story; didn’t he smoke himself, and surely she wasn’t the first woman who smoked around him?

After saying this, Zhao Ping Jin released the handbrake again, about to drive off.

“Zhao Ping Jin—” Xi Tang suddenly called out.

He stopped his motion and looked out the car window.

The woman stood under the tree, wearing a blue cloth robe, the strong wind howling, black hair tangling across her face. She still held a cigarette in one hand, skillfully flicking off the ash with her index finger, and replied lightly: “Fine, for more money.”

Zhao Ping Jin’s face instantly hardened, too angry to speak. He could only glare at her fiercely, and step on the accelerator, the steering wheel shifting slightly, suddenly hitting a large rock. The car jolted with a bang, its speed so fast it seemed to fly.

The black SUV roared away in a cloud of dust and stones.

At ten in the morning, the blinds blocked the bright sunlight between buildings. Li Ming closed the last briefing with a snap, ending the morning executive meeting. Zhao Ping Jin pushed back his chair. Secretary Xiao Dong, who had been waiting outside, came in and lowered his voice: “Mr. Zhao, Director Xu from the Economic and Information Commission has arrived.”

Zhao Ping Jin nodded and stood up.

Assistants rushed forward, hurriedly tidying up the documents and materials on the table.

Shen Min followed Zhao Ping Jin toward the office. Zhao Ping Jin suddenly turned back and said calmly: “Find someone to pay the gas, water, and electricity bills for that house in Hengdian.”

Shen Min was stunned for a moment: “Comrade Xiao Huang doesn’t even pay her utilities?”

Zhao Ping Jin unconsciously frowned: “Living a life worse than pigs and dogs.”

Shen Min immediately said: “I’ll handle it personally.”

The secretary turned his head, his face bearing a suppressed smile. Was the boss… concerned?

Zhao Ping Jin returned to his office and worked for an entire day until the secretary came to remind him of the evening’s social engagement time before leaving work. He glanced at his phone again. Shen Min should have informed her by now, but she would never call him.

A woman so utterly heartless.

He pressed his dizzy head and lay down on the sofa with his eyes closed.

Huang Xi Tang was a hundred times more clear-headed than him. Her life in Hengdian had nothing to do with him anymore.

Over these years, he had traveled back and forth between Beijing and Shanghai. Whenever he came to the south, basically all his business engagements were only in Shanghai. Before, there had been female celebrities brought out for business dinners. Even if they were filming in Hengdian, if arranged by their management companies, which one wouldn’t rush back to Shanghai urgently? He must have lost his mind to travel thousands of miles to a dilapidated small town to see an insignificant little female celebrity.

He threw his phone on the floor. Besides Beijing, he wouldn’t go anywhere else.

In mid-July, the Gao family hired a new cook, so several men brought their families to eat at Gao Ji Yi’s home.

In recent years, everyone had returned to family life. After dinner, they didn’t go out anymore. Gao Ji Yi had set up a top Danish sound system in the living room, but the women used it to watch TV.

Next door was a tea room. Old Gao was brewing tea on the side, Lu Xiao Jiang sat watching his collection of fine teas can by can, while Zhao Ping Jin chatted with Fang Lang Ji.

Fang Lang Ji smiled with a wink: “Zhou Zhou, you were going to Shanghai quite frequently before, how come you haven’t been recently?”

Zhao Ping Jin sat with his legs crossed, leaning back in his chair smoking: “What’s up?”

Gao Ji Yi said enthusiastically: “You’ve been single for a while now, are you really cultivating yourself before getting married?”

Zhao Ping Jin extinguished his cigarette with some irritation: “Don’t mention that.”

Lu Xiao Jiang carefully interjected: “Sister Ying Zi is quite good. I saw her once in Los Angeles before coming back. She’s even more beautiful now.”

Zhao Ping Jin frowned without responding.

Gao Ji Yi nudged his shoulder, speaking with the tone of someone experienced: “Marry her, it’s going to happen sooner or later.”

Gao Ji Yi’s wife was his second, having just given birth to a son for him, a bit younger than Qing Qing. The child was cared for by a nanny, while she still went for beauty treatments and shopping every day, living more comfortably than before marriage.

In the living room, the women gathered to chat and watch TV. Around eight in the evening, the film and television channel was broadcasting an awards ceremony.

Suddenly, familiar music played in the living room.

Gao Ji Yi’s wife excitedly exclaimed at the screen: “Ah, who is that man?”

Qing Qing answered softly: “It’s Jiang Chao, I used to like him.”

The women suddenly stopped talking.

A male celebrity was singing on stage.

A tall man, with slicked-back hair, wearing a white suit, still quite a charismatic man.

Zhao Ping Jin certainly recognized him. He had sat in the studio watching this man for a week. He acted with Wu Zhen Zhen, and after finishing scenes, his face was numb, a look of weariness. Assistants served him tea and water, while he just kept smoking on the side.

It was a familiar old Cantonese song.

The chattering women in the spacious living room suddenly quieted. Crystal chandeliers glittered brilliantly, a huge LCD screen showed the women craning their necks to watch the male celebrity.

The music accompanied the song, a slightly hoarse male voice singing: “I see you heartbroken… even your crying is exquisitely beautiful… I can only gently kiss your hair…”

At that moment, the camera turned to the audience. The first few rows of the first floor were filled with familiar but unnameable celebrity faces. The camera passed directly over them, then locked onto the profile of a girl in the back row.

It was an almost perfect silhouette.

Red rouge and white powder, thick eyebrows and a pretty nose, her lips a full cherry color, bright yet with a desolate allure… The person being filmed was completely unaware, she just slightly tilted her head looking at the stage, the lighting somewhat dim, half the light falling on her face.

She tilted her head, quietly listening to the song, her gaze fixed on a certain point in the void.

On her beautiful cheek, a line of clear tears slowly fell.

The melancholy beauty made one hold their breath.

The cameraman must have lingered for at least ten seconds.

The living room fell silent. Gao Ji Yi glanced at the television and suddenly asked: “Is this a new female celebrity?”

Fang Lang Ji quietly stood up and walked to his wife’s side. Qing Qing leaned against him, saying emotionally: “I like this song.”

Gao Ji Yi also stood up and walked over to enthusiastically watch the TV: “Zhou Zi, have someone call the TV station and ask who that beauty is.”

Gao Ji Yi’s wife called out: “Hey, Lao Gao!”

Gao Ji Yi was being frivolous: “Calm down, madam, we still have an unmarried one here, don’t we?”

Everyone looked toward Zhao Ping Jin, who sat motionless by the tea table, his handsome face pale and frosty.

Lu Xiao Jiang sat across from him, somehow suddenly feeling inexplicably nervous, hands pressed on his knees, restraining his arms that wanted to tremble.

Gao Ji Yi was still calling from the living room: “Hey, Zhou Zhou, come quick and see if there are any more shots, that girl is really beautiful.”

Zhao Ping Jin abruptly stood up, a teacup in his hand, which he violently slammed onto the table, right in front of Lu Xiao Jiang. He didn’t know how much force he had used; the fine antique porcelain shattered into pieces, ceramic fragments instantly splashing everywhere. Lu Xiao Jiang instinctively raised his arm to shield himself, immediately drawing a line of blood down his arm.

Everyone in the room was stunned, not a single person uttered a sound.

Zhao Ping Jin grabbed his cigarette pack and said before losing control: “I’m going out for a smoke.”

He walked away without looking back.