At this moment, a phone rang from behind. After ringing twice, it was answered. From a seat not far behind them came a man’s voice, deep and mellow, with standard Mandarin pronunciation and a slight Beijing accent: “Teacher Zhou, oh my, you have free time today? What made you think of your son?”

Xi Tang’s heart suddenly trembled. She looked up at Ni Kailun sitting across from her.

Ni Kailun didn’t react immediately, but after noticing her expression, she froze instantly.

Xi Tang’s face began to turn pale, and her lips trembled slightly.

Ni Kailun quickly raised half her body to glance across, then sat back down, her expression also deteriorating.

Xi Tang looked at her expression again, her eyes widening, not daring to move.

The man behind them had walked away to take the call, his voice gradually fading until they could no longer hear it.

Ni Kailun steeled herself and stood up, carefully surveying the scene in the back seats before sitting down dejectedly and lowering her voice: “It’s not him, baby, it’s not.”

Xi Tang’s heart returned to its place but continued to pound. She covered her face and slowly let out a breath.

The next second, beneath the sunglasses covering her cheeks, a thin line of tears flowed down.

Ni Kailun handed her tissues.

Once her tears began to fall, they cascaded down, and suddenly she could not control her emotions.

Ni Kailun saw her tightly gripping a half cup of coffee, shoulders trembling, voice desperately suppressed, but still disturbing nearby travelers.

Ni Kailun, exasperated, stood up and sat beside her, blocking the view from the side: “Don’t cry. Do you want to be photographed?”

Hearing her words, Xi Tang bit her teeth and took a breath, trying to control herself, but completely failed. Her throat choked up, feeling even more uncomfortable.

Ni Kailun called the assistant to come back.

The young girl A Kuan had a plump back. Xi Tang hid behind her, covering her face, sobbing.

The ground staff guided boarding at the entrance. Ni Kailun draped a coat over her, put on her mask, and dragged her toward the boarding gate.

Xi Tang, escorted by her assistant and Ni Kailun, walked onto the plane and lay down in her seat, her tears flowing endlessly.

On the flight from Beijing to Shanghai.

She cried for a full hour and a half.

She didn’t speak, just covered her face and silently shed tears.

There were few passengers in first class on that flight. A flight attendant came over, glanced quietly at Huang Xi Tang’s seat, bent down, and asked with concern: “Miss Ni, do you need any help?”

Ni Kailun wished she could ask for another blanket to smother her. Losing all dignity over a heartless, faithless man.

She smiled and shook her head at the flight attendant.

Ever since returning from Beijing last New Year, Ni Kailun had been worried. Without Zhao Pingjin, she probably didn’t want to live.

She was too calm; something was bound to happen sooner or later.

The day after returning from Beijing, Huang Xi Tang went back to the film set to reshoot two scenes. Those days, a typhoon hit Shanghai, the air fresh and cool, with lead-gray clouds rolling across the sky. After the female lead’s final scenes were reshot, “Just Right Lovers” officially wrapped.

This morning, her assistant had just arrived at the set when she was called back to the company by a phone call from Ni Kailun. When leaving, the male lead Yang Yilin hadn’t arrived yet. Today was the last day on set. A Kuan looked around, her gaze downcast.

The entertainment industry moves too quickly. The extravagant and decadent atmosphere prevails unabated. Men and women from a film crew bound together for several months create a TV drama and incidentally produce a history of directors, stars, and various staff members sleeping around.

When staying at the hotel before, A Kuan would sneak out in the middle of the night, probably knowing secretly that Xi Tang didn’t like Yang Yilin, but Xi Tang never interfered with what her employees did for entertainment.

Huang Xi Tang just focused on reading the script in her chair.

After 5 p.m., Xi Tang left the set and rushed back to the company for a meeting, braving heavy rain.

Since the news of her nomination for Best Actress at the Beijing Television Festival was announced, various negative news about her had been released.

The articles were a mix of truth and falsehood, with exposés and rumors, basically stating with certainty that she had plastic surgery and smoked, along with some more unsavory rumors about selling her body. Major entertainment media hadn’t dared to report them, but they circulated in several forum posts.

Some photos of her smoking during work breaks on set were posted online.

Ni Kailun summoned her to the company.

Xi Tang pushed open the door to the conference room.

An entertainment company is truly a strange place. People in the company spend every day revolving around various stars, watching celebrities dressed glamorously come and go like dress-up dolls, while the staff’s attire falls into two extremes. For example, Xi Tang’s assistant A Kuan wore old jeans of indeterminate age and a black T-shirt every day. Her makeup artist Xinni, who handled countless top brand powders and blushes, always went bare-faced herself. At the other extreme were those with bigger attitudes than the stars themselves, like Ni Kailun, adorned with luxury brands, always with piercing eyes and an intimidating demeanor. And, like sitting in the center, with bright yellow short hair, sparkling diamond earrings, plus several bracelets dangling on her hands—PR department director Su Yan.

Su Yan saw her come in and beckoned: “Baby, come in quick.”

Ni Kailun was interrogating her assistant A Kuan: “Does she still smoke on set now?”

A Kuan didn’t dare answer.

Xi Tang weakly replied: “Occasionally…”

Ni Kailun told her assistant: “Don’t let her smoke in public places anymore.”

A Kuan nodded repeatedly like a pounding pestle.

Ni Kailun turned to ask her: “Who do you think took the photos?”

Xi Tang shook her head. The photos of her smoking on the set of “The Last Hesuo Princess” could have been secretly taken by any crew member.

Despite the pile of negative news, Ni Kailun wasn’t anxious at all. Currently, both she and Su Yan seemed quite happy.

Xi Tang knew that in the entertainment circle, the topic of plastic surgery was a tried-and-true publicity method for female celebrities. Su Yan pushed aside her laptop and leaned over, smiling at Xi Tang: “Xi Tang, tens of thousands of clicks per day, plus fans from all sides joining in the excitement—saved us a month’s worth of publicity expenses.”

Xi Tang smiled modestly.

Ni Kailun discussed matters with Su Yan while Xi Tang secretly took a sip of A Kuan’s milk tea.

Ni Kailun saw it from the corner of her eye and glanced at her discreetly, her gaze full of murderous intent.

Xi Tang quickly handed the milk tea back to A Kuan.

Su Yan asked Xi Tang: “How will you answer if reporters ask about plastic surgery?”

Xi Tang was preciously savoring that sip of milk tea, quietly chewing two pearls, when Su Yan’s question caught her off guard. She choked slightly, almost rolling her eyes. Hurriedly swallowing the fragrant, sweet milk tea in her mouth, she crisply replied: “None of your damn business.”

Su Yan clapped her hands and responded loudly: “Perfect!”

Beijing’s midsummer temperature continued to rise, with waves of heat rolling in the twilight air.

Ni Kailun stepped out of the taxi, walked into the brightly lit building, and checked the directional signs in the hotel lobby.

The Fang and Ouyang families were holding a 100-day celebration at the Peninsula Hotel.

Ni Kailun found the banquet hall and prepared a large red envelope at the gift table. The Fang Langdie couple happened to be greeting guests in front of the hall. She went forward to greet Ouyang Qingqing.

Qingqing happily shook her hand: “Miss Ni, thank you for coming. How is Xi Tang?”

Ni Kailun, fully utilizing her social skills, smiled and said: “She’s doing well. Xi Tang is busy, but I’m touched you still think of her. As it happens, I’m on a business trip in Beijing, and she specifically instructed me to come.”

The two exchanged pleasantries for a few moments before more guests arrived.

Fang Langdie waved to the newcomer: “Xiaojiang, over here.”

Ni Kailun turned to see Lu Xiaojiang, her smile immediately disappearing, then noticed a young woman on his arm in a blue dress, carrying a new beige Gucci handbag—presumably his wife.

Ni Kailun stepped back.

Lu Xiaojiang saw her, his expression also uncomfortable, but still politely greeted her: “Miss Ni.”

Ni Kailun nodded: “Mr. Lu.”

Lu Xiaojiang didn’t dare exchange pleasantries with her and walked into the hotel lobby with his wife.

Ni Kailun was too busy working to attend the dinner and made excuses to Qingqing before turning to leave.

As she reached the hotel entrance, suddenly a tall man in a suit approached, saying with slight surprise: “Karen?”

The guests in the banquet hall were mostly seated.

Fang Langdie, after greeting a circle of guests, walked to a table on the right side of the front row and scanned the two empty seats: “They haven’t arrived yet?”

Gao Jiyi, playing with his son in his wife’s arms, answered: “No sign of them.”

Fang Langdie had been busy for most of the day. This table was full of childhood friends, so he sat down as well.

Shortly after, Shen Min hurriedly entered.

Gao Jiyi stood up: “Hurry up, we’ve been waiting for you.”

Shen Min apologized several times and sat in one of the empty seats.

“Hey, Xiao Min, the boss is too busy to care about his life, and you suffer too?” The speaker was Lu Xiaojiang’s brother-in-law, Qian Donglin.

Shen Min took a hot towel to wipe his hands: “I’m doing alright.”

Several acquaintances at the table greeted him with smiles: “Xiao Min, it’s been a while. Have you been transferred back now?”

Shen Min smiled and answered.

Gao Jiyi glanced at Lu Xiaojiang sitting at the table and asked Shen Min in a low voice: “Zhouzi really isn’t coming?”

In an instant, Shen Min’s smile vanished, and he just cautiously nodded.

Fang Langdie said: “It’s fine, it’s not convenient for him.”

Gao Jiyi nodded and didn’t ask further.

The banquet ended after 9 p.m., with guests gradually saying goodbye. The women arranged to go for spa treatments, while Gao Jiyi and a few friends played cards at the hotel.

They dispersed around 11 p.m. Lu Xiaojiang leaned against Shen Min’s car window: “Brother Xiao Min, can I catch a ride?”

Shen Min maintained that calm expression, but his tone lacked warmth: “You didn’t drive here?”

Lu Xiaojiang said: “I drank earlier.”

Shen Min unlocked the car door.

Lu Xiaojiang thanked him and sat in the passenger seat.

The car merged into Beijing’s brilliant night scene.

After Lu Xiaojiang left, initially due to his father’s situation, tensions were high, and he didn’t often return. But over the past half year, things had gradually relaxed. There were still many matters in Beijing, so he would return occasionally. When back, he naturally wanted to meet with childhood friends for meals, but Zhao Pingjin never showed his face, and Shen Min naturally wouldn’t attend either. Therefore, Shen Min and Lu Xiaojiang hadn’t seen each other for a long time.

Lu Xiaojiang understood that although Shen Min appeared gentle and polite to everyone, Zhao Pingjin had a strong personality. Sometimes when it was difficult to talk to Zhao Pingjin about matters, asking Shen Min for help could indirectly ease tensions with Zhao Pingjin.

But Lu Xiaojiang knew that Shen Min’s loyalty to Zhao Pingjin was rock solid. He always protected and respected Zhao Pingjin like an elder brother. Because Zhao Pingjin and Lu Xiaojiang didn’t get along, Shen Min now also disliked him.

The two rode in silence. The car was approaching Lu Xiaojiang’s in-laws’ place. After his parents emigrated, they rented out their Beijing house. When he returned, he usually stayed with his wife at her parents’ home.

The Qian family lived in a courtyard house in Guosheng Hutong, just separated from the Zhao family by a wall. At this time, in the dark, sprawling mansion, looking from afar, only a few sparse lights could be seen.

Lu Xiaojiang broke the silence: “Where is Zhouzhou?”

Shen Min politely replied: “When I came over this evening, he was still at the company.”

Lu Xiaojiang hesitated for a moment before carefully asking: “Xiao Min, could I… see him?”

Shen Min still maintained the gentle and refined manner of Zhao Pingjin’s secretary: “You’ll have to ask him about that.”

Lu Xiaojiang had hit a moderate roadblock, his cheeks reddening slightly.

Shen Min held back for a good while, then suddenly said, neither lightly nor heavily: “He went back to his old home in the Northwest a few days ago. He just returned, with so many things going on at home. It’s not easy for him.”

Lu Xiaojiang’s nose immediately stung with emotion.

Shen Min suddenly slammed on the brakes. The car stopped at the entrance to the hutong. With an expressionless face, he said: “We’re here. Please get out.”