Xi Tang hugged her arms, gazing idly out the window. The dim, hazy daylight was gradually brightening when she suddenly spotted a large black car driving into the courtyard driveway.
Xi Tang’s heart leaped violently.
Before her mind could process anything, she had instinctively hidden behind the window.
Xi Tang’s arms unconsciously tightened against her chest, trying to suppress her slightly trembling body. Her heart began racing too quickly. She couldn’t make out the license plate number and could only stare fixedly as the car drew closer, eventually stopping in the driveway in front of the hospital building.
A medium-built man stepped out from the driver’s seat. Xi Tang immediately recognized him as his driver.
In that instant, her heart suddenly grew still.
Her breathing stopped. The world around her became an empty void. Her pupils dilated, reflecting only a dazzling and glossy blackness.
After exiting the car, the driver stood beside it. Shortly after, he quickly walked around to open the rear door. From inside the hospital building, a man emerged.
Looking down from her floor, Xi Tang couldn’t see his face, only a tall figure wearing a dark gray coat with a thick camel-colored scarf wrapped around his neck.
The driver opened the car door for him and took the bag from his hand, then handed him a pair of black gloves. Zhao Ping Jin accepted them. At that moment, his assistant walked out of the building, bowing slightly behind him while speaking. Zhao Ping Jin paused to listen for a few seconds, the soft leather gloves casually held in his hand, not yet worn. Xi Tang felt as if it were her own heart being held so casually in his grip as he tapped them against the back of his hand, once, then again.
On the man’s fair hand, a winding, dark blue vein was visible.
Her entire body tensed, muscles paralyzed, unable to breathe.
Gong Qi briefly reported the morning’s schedule to him. Zhao Ping Jin nodded, and the driver promptly escorted him into the back seat, closing the door.
The car quickly drove away.
The next day, Zhao Ping Jin arranged to dine with Gao Ji Yi at the Official Residence Hutong.
It was a private banquet. Zhao Ping Jin only invited Fang Lang Qi to accompany them, while bringing Shen Min himself. When Gao Ji Yi pushed open the door, he saw Fang Lang Qi and Shen Min examining an old-style ceramic jar on the tea table.
As soon as Fang Lang Qi spotted Gao Ji Yi entering: “Old Gao, thanks to you, your brother has truly broadened his horizons today. This is genuinely an excellent piece.”
Gao Ji Yi approached to look, his eyes immediately brightening. All the teacups on the table had been moved aside, with a Famille-rose vase decorated with birds and flowers standing in the center, about two feet tall. At first glance, he dared not make a definitive judgment, lacking the depth of expertise, but roughly estimated that if it were authentic, it would date back at least to the Jiaqing period.
Gao Ji Yi’s curiosity was irresistible: “Xiao Min, where did this come from?”
Zhao Ping Jin sat nearby, casually handing him a magnifying glass: “Sotheby’s London auctioned a batch last month, and this one was the most authentic. Since you enjoy these things, take a look at the condition.”
Gao Ji Yi accepted the magnifying glass, leaned in, and examined it thoroughly with an expert tone: “This body and painting could only have been produced in an imperial kiln, likely the Tang kiln. Oh, there’s a chip here that’s been repaired, but it’s very small…”
Fang Lang Qi looked along with him: “Where?”
While pointing it out to him, Gao Ji Yi contentedly patted Fang Lang Qi: “Second Brother, see that? This condition is superb.”
Shen Min, finding a moment, picked up a teacup for a drink. Zhao Ping Jin had him searching worldwide for items, just to be able to gift them inconspicuously. Having mingled with these young masters for nearly twenty years, Shen Min understood Gao Ji Yi well—adaptable and deeply calculating. Previously, because Huang Xi Tang disrupted his promotion, Gao Ji Yi harbored intense hatred, which extended to his relationship with Zhao Ping Jin, bringing them to the verge of a complete falling out, until Zhao Ping Jin proactively invited him to be his best man at his wedding.
Shen Min had assumed that their childhood friendship ran deep, and since Gao Ji Yi had accepted, past grievances were considered settled.
Unexpectedly, the matter wasn’t over yet.
That night when Gao Ji Yi called, Zhao Ping Jin was still at the company.
He was lying lazily in his chair, while Shen Min presented documents for his review, highlighting key points and making responses according to his instructions.
After nine, Gao Ji Yi called Zhao Ping Jin’s office, and Secretary He answered.
The call was transferred, and he picked up.
“Old Gao?”
Gao Ji Yi’s voice sounded slightly airy on the other end, likely having had a few drinks at some dinner gathering before returning home, with the noise of children and television in the background: “I want to tell you something. I just had dinner with several executives from the station.”
Gao Ji Yi left his sentence hanging, creating suspense.
Zhao Ping Jin focused his attention: “Go on.”
“As it happens, Mr. Tong is the chief judge for this year’s TV Festival. That drama aired on Channel Four this year—you know, the one with good reviews and high ratings—winning a few awards shouldn’t be a problem. For Best Actress—Old Tong asked for my opinion.”
Zhao Ping Jin remained silent.
“Zhou Zi?”
Zhao Ping Jin suppressed a cough rising in his throat. “And then?”
A dissolute chuckle came from Gao Ji Yi’s end. “What do you think?”
Gao Ji Yi’s voice grew increasingly smug: “Zhou Zhou, do you think you can protect her? As long as she remains in this industry, falling into my hands is just a matter of time.”
Zhao Ping Jin lay in his chair with closed eyes, raising his hand to press his brow.
Gao Ji Yi only heard Zhao Ping Jin’s silence for a few seconds on the other end, followed by a light, contemptuous sneer. His voice still carried its habitual nonchalance, only exceptionally hoarse: “Old Gao, how is this any of my business?”
From the first day Zhao Ping Jin met Huang Xi Tang, Gao Ji Yi never believed they should have a future together. For people from their kind of families, the type of wife they should marry was determined by long-established rules. In this matter, he was wholeheartedly looking out for Zhao Ping Jin’s best interests: “Zhou Zi, haven’t you seen enough women? You don’t need to get worked up with me. I’m just venting some frustration.”
Zhao Ping Jin simply responded: “I’ll talk to you about this later.”
He coughed very lightly, and the call ended.
Zhao Ping Jin accompanied Gao Ji Yi on the sofa, examining the antique. Shen Min rose and summoned a waiter to order dishes.
After they finished their meal, Gao Ji Yi had a card game to attend, and Fang Lang Qi had arranged to meet someone on business. Zhao Ping Jin didn’t detain them, and they all rose after the satisfying meal.
Gao Ji Yi was the first to say goodbye.
Afterward, he stood up and went to the door to put on his coat, while the battered old vase still stood quietly on the tea table.
Fang Lang Qi took one look and immediately said loudly, “Xiao Min, hurry and take it to the car for your Brother Gao.”
Shen Min stood by the tea table, efficiently wrapping it up: “Brother Gao, I’ll see you out.”
As the two crossed the threshold of the west wing hall, Gao Ji Yi put his arm around Shen Min’s shoulders, asking with a grin: “Xiao Min, who arranged this?”
Shen Min replied: “Don’t worry, I handled it personally.”
Gao Ji Yi patted his shoulder: “Thank Zhou Zi for me.”
Shen Min said with a smile: “It’s only right, Brother. You’ve been more generous than both of us, always sending good things to the old master. Yesterday, when Zhou Zi and I went home for dinner, the old master was still praising your filial piety.”
Gao Ji Yi laughed heartily: “Someone from my hometown came by a few days ago. I’ll mention it to my wife; I heard that the honey pomelos are especially good this year—specially supplied to the provincial government. I’ll bring a couple of boxes later. Give the old master my regards.”
Gao Ji Yi’s wife came from a notable family in a southeastern province.
Gao Ji Yi said to Shen Min: “The old lady is increasingly failing to recognize people. The other day when I visited, she kept calling me Xiao Jiang. Well, among all the children in our compound who attend to her, which one isn’t good? Yet she only remembers Xiao Jiang.”
Shen Min smiled: “Don’t mind it. The old lady stopped recognizing even me several years ago. She only recognizes my father, who has been gone for many years.”
Gao Ji Yi shifted his leg and said: “Who can help that Lu Xiao Jiang is so lovable? Always following Zhou Zi around since childhood. Who else would the old lady recognize? I’m not jealous anymore.”
Shen Min accompanied him toward the courtyard parking area, listening to his grumbling. He understood that Zhao Ping Jin and his childhood friends were bound together for life, with deep feelings naturally, though various interests tied them together; none were cleaner than the others. No matter how capable Zhao Ping Jin was, he couldn’t escape Beijing’s small circle.
People at their level understood that while they held some real power, they also faced limitations within their respective systems and regions. How to manage various relationships was an extremely profound art. Over decades, as various power and interest exchanges evolved through generations, an intricate network of interpersonal relationships had been woven tight.
Shen Min had seen it all—for them to get anything done was just a matter of a single word. As Zhao Ping Jin would say, living in Beijing, going out to work in the morning, standing beneath the locust tree in front of the compound gate, looking down that hutong, his entire being felt at ease.
When the company call came, Xi Tang was in Taiyuan.
She had been defeated at the year-end awards ceremony, failing to win Best Actress and receiving several sarcastic press releases from rival companies. Ni Kai Lun aggressively lined up work for her. With numerous invitations to year-end events, Xi Tang’s commercial activities hadn’t stopped since early December.
The day before Christmas, she had just left the film set when she was immediately put in a car and sent to Hangzhou airport.
After the plane landed at Taiyuan Wusu Airport, Xi Tang was promptly taken for hair and makeup, then attended the New Year event ceremony for her endorsed cosmetics brand that evening.
That night, after midnight, Ni Kai Lun’s assistant Amy called her assistant’s phone with urgent news: “Both of you return immediately tomorrow morning. Director Tang wants her to audition.”
A Kuan received the call while buying tripe noodles at a food street near the hotel. As soon as he hung up, he ran out with two bags of soup noodles and a handful of lamb skewers. The predawn streets were bitterly cold, yet the steaming late-night food stalls remained brightly lit, with young men and women gathering to drink beer. A Kuan ran furiously, panting as he entered the hotel room. Xi Tang was lying on the bed with a face mask, nearly asleep. A Kuan shouted earthshakingly: “Get up!”
Xi Tang jolted awake, immediately alert.
Shortly after, a colleague staying next door knocked and entered, handing her a sheet of paper: “Kai Lun just sent this over.”
It was a page from Tang Ya Song’s script. Xi Tang asked softly: “Isn’t there a confidentiality agreement?”
“There is,” the colleague replied. “Kai Lun said there’s no time to worry about that. I didn’t look at it, don’t worry.”
Early the next morning, the entire team dispatched by the company caught the earliest flight back to Shanghai.