Ten in the morning. A general manager’s regular meeting was being held in the conference room of Zhongyuan Group.

For these weekly meetings, if there were no special work arrangements, Zhao Ping Jin generally authorized Shen Min to preside. Today Shen Min was away on a business trip, so he entered the conference room himself.

While the chief accountant was reporting audit work to him, his secretary knocked and came in.

Secretary He bowed his head. Beside him, he said in a low voice: “Director Zhao, the property management company of Bai Yuan Mansion called. They said the fire alarm went off at your home. Hotel security went up to check and suspected there was thick smoke coming from the room.”

There was nobody in the house anyway, just a set of rooms. Zhao Ping Jin tilted his head slightly and said: “Let the property management company handle it. I have the door card in my car. You arrange for the driver to deliver it. If they can’t wait, let the firefighters break the door.”

Secretary He accepted the order and left. Zhao Ping Jin turned around, signaling to continue the meeting.

More than thirty minutes later, the meeting ended. Secretary He was waiting at the conference room door. She understood Zhao Ping Jin’s habits—unless it was something extremely important, she should never interrupt his work, especially in meeting settings.

Zhao Ping Jin came out and glanced at Secretary He, knowing she had something to report. He turned and walked toward his office, with her following behind saying: “Director Zhao, you need to go back.”

Zhao Ping Jin said: “What’s the matter?” Secretary He hesitated for a moment, lowering her voice slightly: “Your wife—she’s in the house.”

Zhao Ping Jin drove back to Bai Yuan Mansion.

This apartment was close to the company. After he started working at Zhongyuan, with more overtime work, he often stayed there at night. He didn’t live there long-term. He was more accustomed to living in the home at Guosheng Hutong. After marriage, he returned to Xia Gong Mansion.

Yu Xiao Ying never managed this apartment. After getting married, she had never set foot in it. Since she didn’t care about it, Zhao Ping Jin never actively mentioned it either.

He didn’t own many properties. Apart from the courtyard on Fuyou Street that was purchased to entertain guests, the rest weren’t large, basically acquired for convenience in daily life, including Yu Xiao Ying herself who had places beyond Xia Gong Mansion.

Before getting married, she often lived in the villa in Yanxi, which was registered under her father’s name. He never inquired about it either.

Zhao Ping Jin parked in the garage and went upstairs. As soon as he stepped through the fifty-second-floor elevator doors, he saw the property manager standing with his driver at the door.

The property manager saw him come in and quickly greeted him: “Mr. Zhao.”

The driver came up to report: “The property management and firefighters were the first to enter. There was a bit of smoke, but nothing serious. Later, the firefighters arrived, confirmed there was no danger, and have already left.”

Zhao Ping Jin nodded: “No problem, go back.”

The driver turned and gestured to the property manager: “I’ll escort the district manager down. Thank you for your trouble.”

Zhao Ping Jin opened the door and went in.

Someone had opened the floor-to-ceiling window curtains. The fresh air system and the air conditioning’s ventilation and sterilization functions were all set to maximum. Yu Xiao Ying was standing in the living room, looking relatively calm.

As soon as Zhao Ping Jin stepped into the house, he smelled a burnt odor wafting from the kitchen.

Zhao Ping Jin walked in and saw a pot placed on the kitchen floor, filled with a large pile of blackened, burnt items.

Zhao Ping Jin swept his eyes over it, his gaze wavering slightly. He immediately understood everything. Those were the things Huang Xi Tang had left in the house. Yu Xiao Ying had burned all the belongings she had left at Bai Yuan Mansion.

Zhao Ping Jin walked out and glanced at Yu Xiao Ying: “Did you burn yourself?” Yu Xiao Ying snorted.

Zhao Ping Jin’s tone was so calm it seemed inhuman: “I’ll have Driver Liu give you a room card later. Come to this place whenever you want. Whatever things you want, take as you please.”

Yu Xiao Ying looked at the man before her, her eyes gradually welling up with tears.

She thought she had caused trouble and he would be angry, would scold her, would show some emotional fluctuation for her sake. But unexpectedly, he was utterly accommodating toward her.

Yu Xiao Ying knew she could have anything she wanted, except one person. At that moment, she suddenly found it amusing. She couldn’t help it—she stood in the living room, tilting her head back and laughing out loud.

Zhao Ping Jin stood far from the floor-to-ceiling windows and didn’t speak. His eyes were a misty gray, like the sea.

Yu Xiao Ying laughed until tears came out: “Zhou Zi, living like this, aren’t you tired?”

Zhao Ping Jin looked at this woman who had lived with him for more than three years. She stood before him, tears flowing down her fresh face. A flash of painful pity suddenly crossed his heart. He stepped toward her, wanting to reach out and pull her arm.

But Yu Xiao Ying brushed his hand away, and wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes: “What do you take me for? What do you take our marriage for?”

Zhao Ping Jin finally spoke to console her: “Just a box of old books, why do this to yourself?”

Yu Xiao Ying held her head high: “Zhou Zi, let’s part ways amicably.”

Zhao Ping Jin remained silent.

Yu Xiao Ying stared at him steadily. She had cried and made scenes before, and he was always like this—good-tempered and silent. When she cried severely, he would sometimes come over and gently embrace her shoulders. She would soften her heart, and the two would continue living peacefully together.

This man’s heart—she couldn’t warm it no matter how much she tried.

They were husband and wife, yet without any of the warmth of a married couple. She was a young woman who couldn’t follow a man in keeping a cold, living vigil in an icy tomb.

The door opened and closed again.

Zhao Ping Jin took a deep breath, suppressing the irritation in his chest. He knew he should chase after her, comfort her, should send her back to her workplace or home. As his feet moved, the entire expanse of open floor-to-ceiling glass windows in the living room suddenly rushed toward him like a huge abyss. The entire living room seemed to float in a vortex in the piercing sunlight. The curtain remote control lay on the back of the sofa. He glanced in that direction, feeling only dizziness and nausea.

He turned away and steadied himself against the wall, standing for quite a while before finally giving up.

Zhao Ping Jin slowly stepped into the kitchen. He squatted on the floor and stretched out his hand to sift through the pile of ashes.

Fine ash floated up, and Zhao Ping Jin couldn’t help turning his head away, coughing once, but his eyes caught sight of half a piece of paper that hadn’t completely burned at the bottom. He took it out to look. It was two boarding passes folded together. His name and Huang Xi Tang’s name were close together. The paper had burned about halfway, leaving one edge where the departure point was written as Beijing, and the destination was two smoke-yellowed characters: Shenyang.

When they were dating, Zhao Ping Jin was starting his business, working frantically, and had never taken her on a trip. That journey was when Zhao Ping Jin went on a business trip. At that time, Beijing Chuang had just been established. Li Ming had taken on a project for a foreign enterprise outside the Pass and completed most of it over half a year, but couldn’t collect payment. Zhao Ping Jin had asked a university senior who worked at a local engineering department to put in a word. The relationships there were complex, so Zhao Ping Jin had to go personally. He took Huang Xi Tang along. While he worked, Xi Tang carried her bag alone to visit the Shenyang Imperial Palace. Zhao Ping Jin remembered that no proper business was discussed—it was all dinner banquets. They started drinking in the morning and continued until three or four in the afternoon. He left the hotel exhausted from drinking and took a taxi to find her. The two ate northeastern cuisine at a small restaurant next to Shuai Fu.

Xi Tang was starving after exploring all day. Zhao Ping Jin leaned against the chair back, watching her slurp a pot of sour cabbage stewed with pork ribs. He had no appetite at all.

Xi Tang’s chopsticks didn’t stop, but suddenly she leaned over, reached out to pinch his face, and said with a smile: “My poor baby, look at the state you’re in.”

Zhao Ping Jin held her hand and said: “Don’t tease, I’m tired.”

Xi Tang stroked his face again and responded gently: “I know.”

At that moment, he felt everything was fine.

Zhao Ping Jin stared at the paper ashes, where some faint handwriting was still visible. Those were her handwritten movie scripts and character sketches from class. There was a photo where she and Zhong Qiao Er’s faces had turned to ash. When his finger touched it, it immediately crumbled. Dust scattered, and Zhao Ping Jin stepped back a few paces, unable to help coughing, still tightly clutching those two pieces of paper.

He sat on the floor coughing for a while, then stood up and slowly walked to the bathroom. Using a towel, he carefully cleaned the two boarding passes and neatly tucked them into a book at his bedside.

Ni Kai Lun had been away on business for several days. On this day, she returned to the company early in the morning, not even having time to enter her own office before being called away by the boss’s secretary.

Entering the big boss’s office, the Thirteenth Master sat on the sofa, motioning for her to sit down. He got straight to the point: “When does Huang Xi Tang plan to renew her contract?”

Ni Kai Lun shrugged, feigning detachment: “Didn’t she commission a lawyer to negotiate with the company? What use is asking me about this!”

“The contract expires next month. Originally, we should have discussed it at the beginning of the year, but it was put aside because of her mother’s situation. Now it’s been delayed almost half a year.”

Ni Kai Lun smiled slightly and said: “My, how come I didn’t see you so eager for her to sign before?”

Previously, when Huang Xi Tang’s condition was unstable, the company had been observing and hesitant to discuss renewal. Now that she had fully resumed work in the second half of the year, the company suddenly became anxious.

The big boss, who rarely came to the company, was a smiling tiger. Hearing this, he waved his hand, not letting the Thirteenth Master respond, and smiled while glaring at Ni Kai Lun: “Kai Lun, you’re a company general. It’s not good to favor outsiders.”

Ni Kai Lun stopped teasing and gave the big boss his due respect, speaking frankly: “Huang Xi Tang’s per-film fee has skyrocketed this year. For the several new dramas she’s entered, you know what price she’s commanding. The fact that she’s still considering renewing with the company instead of going independent is already pretty good.”

The Thirteenth Master said eagerly: “Setting up a studio independently is so tiring. Better to stick with what you know. How about signing for another three years? The terms are negotiable.”

Ni Kai Lun replied with a grin: “Why don’t you tell her yourself?”

After leaving the Thirteenth Master’s office, Ni Kai Lun made a call to Hengdian.

Assistant A Kuan answered the phone.

That night after finishing filming, A Kuan relayed Ni Kai Lun’s instructions again. Xi Tang knew Kai Lun meant well. At this delicate time of contract negotiations, with her future uncertain, it was best to maintain a low profile. Xi Tang had her considerations—the company had taken her in when she was down and out, and now that she was successful with stronger wings, it wouldn’t be right to just fly away. But everyone knew how severely the company cut into her previous contract. In the end, no one owed anyone anything. However, having been colleagues for many years, this personal connection still had to be considered. Ni Kai Lun suggested she leave everything to the lawyers and stay in the production team, avoiding the company as much as possible.

In fact, during this period, as a red-hot female celebrity in mainland China, Huang Xi Tang had been constantly surrounded by troubles, keeping the company’s publicity department busy. Since the release of Late Spring, which achieved both critical acclaim and box office success, Xi Tang’s private life had been turned upside down for an entire year. It started with revelations about her single-parent background, and rumors that she was born out of wedlock and that her mother was a mistress, which were dug up quite unpleasantly on the internet. Then after a while, an unnamed classmate came forward claiming she looked different from her college days and leaked that she had been kept by a wealthy businessman since university, having undergone multiple abortions.

Using this kind of marketing copy for artist resources was a common tactic among entertainment companies, which Xi Tang had seen plenty of even before becoming famous. People would use any underhanded method to grab benefits. She never read these news stories herself, only worrying that her mother would be hurt. But by then her mother was already hospitalized. Su Yan’s public relations tactics were powerful, directly taking those completely slanderous news stories to court with high profile, immediately clearing away much of the mess. Afterward, media reporting on her had to be more cautious. Then when her mother passed away, the company helped arrange the funeral. Because Late Spring was invested in by China Film, Su Yan tried to invite Hu Shao Lei. Generally, for such somber occasions, people in the entertainment circle rarely attended in person unless they had deep connections, either due to lack of time or considering it inauspicious. But unexpectedly, Hu Shao Lei did attend and even accepted an interview when leaving, directly expressing his appreciation for her performance and incidentally requesting that the media show more respect for artists’ private lives.

Not long after, rumors of her and Hu Shao Lei spread throughout the entertainment circle.

Xi Tang knew nothing about what was happening outside during that period, but this battle fought by Su Yan and Ni Kai Lun earned great praise from the Thirteenth Master. Just the fact that Hu Shao Lei was willing to be used and tacitly approved the company’s promotion of this rumor was enough to make Huang Xi Tang’s background suddenly seem profound and mysterious.

Others couldn’t distinguish truth from falsehood and didn’t care about it either. In any case, being the rumored girlfriend of the China Film Prince gave her such a status in production teams that no one dared to offend her.

Xi Tang had always been focused on filming, precisely because she trusted the company. This was also one of the reasons she agreed—Star Art’s public relations and promotions were incomparable to ordinary companies.

After a month in production, Xi Tang had two days off and returned to Shanghai to rest. That evening, Ni Kai Lun happened to be home too, so she brought her child to the Xianju Building for dinner. That day, coming out of the restaurant, Ni Kai Lun said to her: “Since I’m also home, let me tell you why the Thirteenth Master is suddenly eager to renew your contract.”

That evening after dinner, Ni Kai Lun drove her baby and the nanny home, while Huang Xi Tang drove alone. She glanced at the rearview mirror and saw paparazzi cars following behind. Xianju Building had now become a fixed stakeout spot for media friends. Earlier in the year, Xiao Di Zhu had specially developed several dishes for Xi Tang who was then working out. Even her nutritionist thought they were good. The key was that compared to bland boiled meat, Xiao Di Zhu’s cooking maintained flavor while still being healthy. Xi Tang enjoyed it, so sometimes she introduced artist friends from the production team to try it. Unexpectedly, through word of mouth, Xianju Building gradually gained a reputation in the circle. When Xi Tang came these days, she had to try to keep a low profile. She turned the steering wheel, avoiding the lane where the paparazzi were pursuing. The car drove along Middle Huaihai Road, passing the brilliantly lit IAPM Plaza. Raising her head slightly, she saw the brand logo glimmering with a soft golden light on the huge glass screen and felt a slight excitement in her heart. After so many years in this industry, she still found things worth being excited about.

Xi Tang still remembered her first luxury item in life.

It was in her second year in the industry, and after filming a movie and earning some income, she had saved more than twenty thousand yuan. At that time, she was still a young girl with limited perspectives, carrying a shining fantasy about the confidence and vanity bought with money. That day, Xi Tang specially invited Qiao Er to accompany her. She still remembered that it was a spring afternoon when the two girls took a taxi to Guomao. Xi Tang tightly held Zhong Qiao Er’s hand, stepping into the first floor with a pilgrim’s reverence, and bought her first bag that cost over ten thousand yuan. Afterward, Xi Tang secretly cherished it immensely, unwilling to carry it on rainy days, and didn’t dare tell Zhao Ping Jin, fearing she would appear unsophisticated. Zhao Ping Jin only noticed her bag on the sofa two weeks later and casually asked: “When did you buy this?”

Xi Tang knew he was accustomed to luxury from childhood. The second time she met him, she noticed the watch on his wrist. Girls who attended those kinds of schools, whether wealthy or not, had first-class appraisal skills. The watch was an entry-level Patrimony series, retailing for around 200,000 yuan in China, and it was evident it had been worn for several years. The brown strap showed signs of wear, conforming to his wrist’s fair, smooth skin, giving an air of casual indifference. For someone like him, with handsome features, a white shirt paired with a white gold watch—the watch was merely a basic accessory. In their lifestyle, even the most precious items were just objects for use.

When he met her, she was still a student. Although studying at the Film Academy, her dress and appearance still had a student air about them. Zhao Ping Jin never felt there was anything wrong with this. At least when they were together, Zhao Ping Jin never criticized her appearance. Zhao Ping Jin, Shen Min, and others were also young at that time. When the company was just starting, they couldn’t even afford an office building. Several men worked in the living room of an apartment, writing program code. This continued for almost a year. What left the deepest impression on Xi Tang was that the living room light never went out for twenty-four hours. Zhao Ping Jin sat at a long wooden table in the living room, wearing Adidas sports shorts and a T-shirt, a pair of black-framed glasses, furiously typing on the keyboard in front of a black computer screen, his black hair messy, his expression like that of an irritable lion. Xi Tang only occasionally saw him wearing formal suits when he went out to negotiate contracts. When she helped him organize his clothes, those basic blue, white, and gray shirts in his closet were replaced each season, every button, every thread revealing consideration and money. Actually, in their two-plus years together, the number of times they went shopping at malls could be counted on one hand. Zhao Ping Jin was too busy, only finding time to accompany her once a year on her birthday.

Later during those two or three years in Beijing, she only bought that one bag. When she left Beijing, Ni Kai Lun went back to clean out her place. With nothing to take away, that bag was directly sold, along with those valuable jewels Zhao Ping Jin had given her—all converted into money and sent to her.

Everything had long since disappeared.

Xi Tang slowed the car, looking carefully at the mannequins in spring clothing through the glass windows. So many years had passed, and she was no longer that little girl. Now what she used most was a soft leather tote bag. The leather was aged and durable, could be folded into any shape and stuffed into her suitcase. She used it to carry scripts and moisturizing spray, taking it with her to airports, hotels, and production sets.

But at this moment, gazing at the shop window, it was as if she returned to when she was eighteen, her eyes still bright with desire. This desire was no longer to walk into a mall and buy a new leather bag for herself, but to become part of top fashion art, to work with them, to become part of the best art of this era.

Half an hour ago, Ni Kai Lun had whispered in her ear: “Adam privately hinted to me that Phoebe suddenly took a liking to you and has already requested you as the Greater China region brand ambassador.”

Xi Tang was stunned and after a while said: “Why would it be my turn?”

Internal company executives also knew that since Xi Tang became famous, the Shanghai boutique director Adam Phillips had been in contact with the company, but only limited to inviting her to events and fashion shows. The last time in Paris, she wasn’t even seated in the front row. They had superstar Liu Sui Xin in the China region, who had been the brand’s watch and jewelry spokesperson for five or six years. At the last fashion week, Xi Tang saw her chatting cheerfully with the chief design director Phoebe, surrounded by a crowd of people. Over the years, it was widely acknowledged that she was the brand’s most favored Chinese female celebrity.

Ni Kai Lun said that it was just in these two or three months since Huang Xi Tang returned to filming that the Paris headquarters suddenly expressed interest in signing a contract. Last month, Ni Kai Lun had already flown to Beijing once to meet with the Greater China regional vice president. She had brought back the contract, which was being reviewed by the company lawyers, and was almost certainly a done deal.

Ni Kai Lun was extremely cautious about this matter. Even now, she had only told Xi Tang this little bit. She understood the value of this contract. A European blue-blood brand, a genuine cash endorsement contract—this luxury brand’s assessment of spokesperson celebrities and estimation of long-term development might span several years. Reportedly, the previous contract holder was a Korean female star who was red-hot across Asia, and that was three years ago. If Xi Tang succeeded her, her giant posters would appear in airport duty-free shops, shopping malls, fashion magazines, and luxury boutique windows all across Asia from now on.

Xi Tang generally didn’t care much about things outside of filming. The number of her endorsements didn’t rank among the top female celebrities in China, but the quality had always been strictly controlled by Ni Kai Lun and herself. Generally, if an endorsement came up for discussion, Ni Kai Lun would ask if she liked it. It was also because of this commercial control that, although she lost some income, it also prevented her from excessively consuming her reputation.

Her mood tonight was especially complex and vain, different from the feeling of signing a good film. This was a new world, a symbol of status and position within the circle, signifying that the artist would enter the top fashion circle.

Ni Kai Lun whispered to her: “It’s settled in these two days, just waiting for your signature. If this deal goes through, the company will make a killing in just one quarter this year.”

“Your lawyer insists on negotiating the contract renewal before signing the endorsement. So your conditions, in all likelihood, the Thirteenth Master will agree to.”

In the new contract with the company, Huang Xi Tang would regain part of her agency agreement and increase her film fee percentage. The lawyer said the renewal shouldn’t be a problem.

Xi Tang sat on a folding chair on the set, taking a break.