It had been a while since her last visit to Beijing. The previous time Xi Tang came was to deal with a lawsuit. Her mind had been in complete chaos then. She stayed in a hotel, not daring to go anywhere, spending each day meeting with lawyers and trying to control herself from checking the chaotic news online, though she couldn’t resist. She only remembered that when the company held a press conference, her father came, squeezing in below with a group of media reporters. At seventy years old, while Lawyer Xiu was explaining the case, he trembled with anger, pulling out a handkerchief to continuously wipe away tears.

She didn’t linger long in Guosheng Hutong. The elderly lady examined her arm and wrote down a number, telling her to visit her clinic at the hospital early the next morning. She said goodbye and left for the airport.

That year, Xie Zhenbang finished his work in China. To see her one last time, he specifically transited through Beijing, waiting for her return from Yinchuan before heading back to Singapore.

At Terminal 3 of the Capital International Airport, Xie Zhenbang lifted the baseball cap she was wearing, quickly kissed her forehead, and put it back: “I know you won’t forget me.”

Xi Tang would never forget the last night with her mother in the hospital. She knelt by the bed, holding her mother’s hand. Xie Zhenbang stayed by her side the entire time, watching the data on the monitoring equipment until the very last moment. When her tears fell, he immediately extended his arms to embrace her.

In his embrace, Xi Tang said: “Never will.”

Xie Zhenbang smiled and said: “That’s enough.”

The next evening, Zhao Pingjin returned home.

The sunset shone on the gray tiles of the quadrangle courtyard roof. The nanny sat under the veranda of the east wing, chatting with Mrs. Qian’s housekeeper while sorting vegetables. Who knows what they were talking about when Mrs. Qian’s housekeeper sighed: “It’s been so many years, and the Jing family suddenly has such a grown-up granddaughter. They can’t love her enough.”

“I heard the second daughter is a beauty,” the Zhao family’s elderly nanny said with a smile.

Mrs. Qian’s housekeeper immediately became interested: “Of course she is! When she came in that day, I was startled. I’ve seen her performances. She’s even more beautiful in person than on TV, with that small face, snow-white skin.”

As for manners, she was good too. When she came to see the old lady for medical treatment, she stood there steadily, not saying much.

“What’s the matter with her?”

“Said her arm hurts.”

Zhao Pingjin entered the residence, walking through the courtyard toward the house. Mrs. Qian’s housekeeper had sharp eyes: “Oh, Young Master Zhou is back.”

Zhao Pingjin stepped onto the stone steps and entered the main hall. The driver following him handed his laptop bag and briefcase to the attendant who came forward. The nanny followed him into the house, taking his suit jacket. Zhao Pingjin raised his hand to loosen his tie, watching the nanny bustling about, bringing him tea and slippers. He supported himself against the shoe cabinet and said in a hoarse voice: “I can manage. You should rest.”

Hearing him speak, the nanny immediately said with concern: “Your throat still isn’t well. Have some snow pear soup tonight.”

Zhao Pingjin walked into the living room. The old man’s health hadn’t been good lately, having been in and out of the hospital several times. The family needed someone around, so he had been coming home almost every day during this period.

The nanny said behind him: “Dr. Fu returned to the west suburban villa with the old Commander.”

Zhao Pingjin nodded. His mother came out of the study on the first floor. Seeing him return alone, Professor Zhou showed no unusual expression: “Tell the nanny to call you for dinner later. I have something to do and need to go out.”

His separation from his wife, Yu Xiaoxing, wasn’t recent news. Zhao Pingjin acknowledged with a sound and went upstairs.

That evening, Zhao Pingjin ate dinner alone at home, sitting in his usual spot. The spacious dining table was empty, with just him sitting there, three exquisite dishes and a soup placed before him. After a while, the nanny in the kitchen heard his cough and, concerned, came out. Seeing the half-bowl of rice barely touched, she took a spoon from the table and pushed the ladled soup toward him: “My dear, at least eat something.”

Zhao Pingjin obediently took the spoon, just to avoid the nanny’s nagging. Recently, he rarely ate dinner at home, but today he returned earlier than usual. Professor Zhou had probably instructed the nanny to make sure he ate properly. Seeing the nanny standing by the table, appearing ready to watch over him, he smiled: “Would you like to sit and eat with me?”

The nanny, who maintained strict propriety all her life, quickly waved her hand and turned to leave: “I’ll prepare the medicine for you to drink later tonight.”

Two days later, when Zhao Pingjin finished work, he saw Xi Tang in front of the Qian family’s courtyard door.

Xi Tang was coming out of the Qian family’s courtyard. She was returning to Shanghai that night but had finally visited her father’s home in the afternoon. The relationship between father and daughter was still very formal. The old man and old lady at home didn’t mind that much. Her half-brother was rarely home, and the two elderly people seldom saw their grandchildren. Now, seeing their eldest granddaughter return, they were so happy that their blood pressure rose. Her father had prepared gifts for her, asking her to come to the Qian family to express thanks. She still needed to return to Shanghai; her work was there, and Ni Kailun had also found a doctor for her to continue treatment in Shanghai.

Zhao Pingjin stopped his car at the entrance of the hutong. When he closed the car door, he saw her walking out of the courtyard gate. Upon seeing him, she showed neither surprise nor fear, saying: “Just getting off work?”

Zhao Pingjin nodded. Huang Xi Tang wore a light pink blouse and a black skirt, her hair loosely tied in a ponytail at the back of her head. Her beauty had reached an almost divine level.

“Is your hand better?”

“Temporarily relieved.”

“Why not rest in Beijing for a while longer?”

“No, I’ll continue treatment in Shanghai.”

“Take good care and get your hand treated properly.”

Xi Tang smiled and agreed: “Alright.”

The tone was gentle, with just the right amount of concern. Xi Tang knew Zhao Pingjin was comforting her. Even Zhao Pingjin had learned to comfort people—truly, times had changed.

Zhao Pingjin felt his heart tightening strand by strand, gradually tightening until he could barely breathe. He couldn’t help taking a step forward, then stopped, calling softly: “Xi Tang.”

Xi Tang raised her head to look at him when she heard this. He was about to speak when a man’s voice called her name from the courtyard: “Xi Tang, let’s go.”

Xi Tang turned around at the sound. Li Shu’an came out of the courtyard holding his daughter’s hand. The little girl, Xinxin, released her father’s hand, hopped over the threshold, and affectionately hugged Xi Tang.

Li Shu’an turned his head and saw Zhao Pingjin: “Zhou, just got back?”

Zhao Pingjin nodded.

By then, the driver had driven the car into the hutong. Xi Tang, holding the little girl’s hand, got into the car. Li Shu’an opened the door for her. Huang Xi Tang lowered her head and sat in the front passenger seat. The driver got out of the car, holding the door for Li Shu’an, who got into the driver’s seat and waved to him: “See you.”

Zhao Pingjin stood in front of the courtyard, watching motionlessly as the gray sedan drove out of Guosheng Hutong.

A week later, Xi Tang was invited to Beijing for a charity event.

A domestic charity organization that had been dedicated to preventing sexual assault against girls for many years invited her to Beijing to do activities with children at a school for migrant workers’ children. She came to Beijing alone, without even an assistant. Huang Xi Tang was now the least busy artist in their company, unable to afford a manager. Her assistant, A Kuan, was accompanying He Luofei in filming in Xiamen. On the evening of her arrival in Beijing, Li Shu’an asked about Xi Tang’s activity unit and discovered that the foundation happened to be the organization where his late wife had worked. Thus, it was natural for him to instruct the staff to take care of her. After the event, Li Shu’an came to pick her up. She got into his car, and he smiled, saying: “The old lady knows I’m picking you up. She wants you to come home for dinner. Xiaojiang is back today.”

That day, the Qian family invited a chef from the Yangzhou office in Beijing to make Huaiyang cuisine. When Xi Tang and Li Shu’an returned to the Qian family’s courtyard in Guosheng Hutong, Lu Xiaojiang came out to greet the guests. He was a junior in front of Li Shu’an and didn’t dare to be too casual. Seeing him, he smiled and said: “Uncle.”

Li Shu’an asked: “Xiaojiang is back, how are your wife and child?” Lu Xiaojiang replied: “All well. I came back first to settle in. She’ll bring the child back later to stay for a while, to let the child see the grandparents.”

Only then did Xi Tang learn that Lu Xiaojiang even had a child.

Xi Tang followed Li Shu’an into the house, hearing Lu Xiaojiang tell Li Shu’an that Qian Donglin had a meeting in the new district today and was now heading home. Xi Tang walked into the house and saw that Fang Langju and Qingqing were already inside.

Qingqing was holding the child and talking to Qian Donglin’s girlfriend. Seeing Xi Tang come in, she pulled her to sit beside her.

The last time Xi Tang was in Beijing, she met Qingqing once at the hotel. The couple had specifically gone to see her. Xi Tang knew they had testified for her to the police. At that time, when Qingqing saw her, she burst into tears.

Xi Tang said: “It’s not your fault.”

Fang Langju sat silently on the sofa in the hotel room, watching his wife and Huang Xi Tang sob together for a long time. When leaving, he only said gently: “Xi Tang, take good rest.”

Fang Langju knew that this is how these two were. Some things, they would never know about each other. Around 6 p.m., Qian Donglin returned, glanced at the dining room, and asked: “Hasn’t Zhou come?” Li Shu’an replied: “Someone was sent to ask next door, they said he’ll be late from work today.”

After 8 p.m., Zhao Pingjin came in. Seeing Lu Xiaojiang in the room, he handed a bag to the Qian family’s nanny, patted Qian Donglin’s shoulder, and said: “I have something at home, so I won’t stay.”

Qian Donglin stood up: “What? No matter how big the matter is, eat first before talking about it.”

Zhao Pingjin smiled without saying anything, turning to leave. No one dared to make him stay.

At this moment, Huang Xi Tang suddenly leaned back in her chair, looked at Qian Donglin and him, then said softly: “Since you’re already here, stay for a while.”

Zhao Pingjin stopped in his tracks.

Qian Donglin seized the opportunity to pull him back.

After that one time, Zhao Pingjin finally stopped causing trouble for Lu Xiaojiang on the surface. The friendship among the old friends in Beijing was somewhat restored.

It was also during that period that Huang Xi Tang stayed in Beijing for a while.

Huang Xi Tang, at an extremely low price, accepted Director Lin Yongchuan’s stage play “The Last Night of This World.” After Ni Kailun signed the contract for her, Kailun rolled her eyes and told her that if she had this much time, she might as well sleep more at home. Xi Tang’s price for film and television was still reported as extremely high externally, after all, her previous works were there to show, but it was purely high price with no market. Xi Tang didn’t care about Ni Kailun’s sarcastic remarks. This was her first collaboration with Director Lin Yongchuan after graduating so many years ago, and more importantly, her first formal opportunity to perform in a stage play. Besides, it had been quite a while since she had acted, and she was practically suffering from acting withdrawal, feeling both excited and nervous. She had to rehearse three days a week at the Art Troupe’s rehearsal hall on Gulou Street, and when she came to Beijing, she stayed at the company’s hotel. Her stepmother was very considerate and polite; after she visited home once, the second time she went, her stepmother showed her a room that had been prepared for her in the house. Xi Tang knew this must have been her father’s intention. It was said that her brother, because their father Jing Boshi divorced his mother and married the family’s nanny, was very displeased and worked at his post-year-round, unwilling to return home. This woman in charge wasn’t having an easy time either; her three children from her late husband stayed in their hometown in Taiyuan, while she carefully tried to please her current husband’s children at home. Xi Tang politely declined her stepmother’s enthusiastic invitation but visited her grandparents every time she came to Beijing.

As Xi Tang visited Guosheng Hutong more frequently, she occasionally saw Zhao Pingjin once or twice. The Qian family had been having a streak of happy events lately: Lu Xiaojiang and Qian Xiyang’s newborn son had returned from America, and Qian Donglin was preparing for his wedding. The children of both families were childhood friends, so every banquet inevitably involved inviting Zhao Pingjin. The Zhao family was naturally very courteous. The next day, Li Shu’an and Qian Donglin took her to have dinner at the Zhao family’s home. Professor Zhou happened to be home. Li Shu’an said to Professor Zhou: “This is old Jing’s second daughter, Xi Tang, Zhou’s friend.”

Xi Tang made a slight bow and said: “Hello, Auntie.”

Professor Zhou stood at the entrance of the living room, and glanced at Xi Tang, just as she would at any ordinary friend of her son, with a kind expression that showed no change: “Come in and sit.”

Shen Min walked out of the room, saw Xi Tang standing in front of Professor Zhou, and was almost startled. Then, turning to see Li Shu’an standing properly by her side, she felt quite uncomfortable but could only say politely: “Brother Shu’an, Zhou is inside.”

In the dining room on the first floor of the Zhao house, the men’s laughter mingled with the crisp sound of clinking wine glasses.

Xi Tang noticed that Zhao Pingjin ate very little.

At first, she thought it was because of social engagements outside. Xi Tang knew he always ate little at banquets. Generally, when he went out for business meals, the matters discussed at the table were never small issues. The slightest carelessness could easily lead to mistakes, so his mind was elsewhere, unable to focus on eating. However, on later occasions, when he was in his own home, his demeanor was relaxed, he talked quite a bit, and seemed quite happy, but throughout the meal, he hardly ate anything. Xi Tang had eaten about 60-70% full and consciously stopped, hand resting on the table, listening to their animated conversation, occasionally stealing a glance, seeing the man sitting upright and elegant, his fair and thin face slightly dim, no longer drinking alcohol, with only a cup of warm tea by his hand.

On the day before Qian Donglin’s wedding banquet, Qian Donglin invited the groomsmen and old friends to dinner at home. Xi Tang accompanied Li Shu’an, sitting at the table and hosting guests. Zhao Pingjin came in after work, wearing a white shirt with light brown checks, sleeves rolled up, and a dark blue silk tie. Xi Tang very calmly controlled her gaze, not to look in his direction.

At this moment, Xi Tang’s arm was suddenly shaken. The little girl Xinxin sitting beside her said: “Auntie Xi Tang, I want water.”

The little girl refused to drink from the glass cup and coquettishly wanted her pink cup. So Xi Tang stood up to find her requested Hello Kitty water cup. After searching around, she found that the nanny had placed it on the top shelf of the cabinet. Xi Tang stepped on a footstool, extending her hand to reach for the cup on the cabinet. Li Shu’an, who had just found a bottle opener from the kitchen, quickly walked over: “Let me. Your hand isn’t well. Be careful not to fall.”

Li Shu’an took the cup down from the cabinet and handed it to Xi Tang.

Qian Donglin laughed at the dining table: “Looks like Second Sister is going to marry into our family.”

Lu Xiaojiang suddenly raised his head and looked at Xi Tang, his face ashen, lips trembling slightly.

That day, Xi Tang had a recording at nine in the evening. She sat for a while and left early around seven. Li Shu’an handed her the car keys and bag: “Shall I take you there?” Xi Tang smiled and said: “I can go by myself.”

At this moment, Xinxin was calling loudly for her father in the house. Xi Tang waved at him and walked out: “Your daughter is calling you, go back quickly.”

Lu Xiaojiang saw Li Shu’an walk back, pushed away his chair, and silently walked out. Huang Xi Tang was backing up her car at the entrance of the hutong.

Lu Xiaojiang walked over and stood by her car. She lowered the window and said: “What is it?” Lu Xiaojiang lowered his head and said: “Xi Tang, I’m sorry.”

After getting into the car, Huang Xi Tang first touched up her makeup. From Lu Xiaojiang’s perspective, the young female star sitting in the car had a slender, snow-white neck, her hair casually tucked behind her ear, a diamond earring faintly sparkling beside her black hair, her skin whiter than snow, cloud-like hair and cherry-like lips. Her hand on the steering wheel froze, and she suddenly turned her head, looking straight ahead, her expression appearing particularly cold: “Xiaojiang, that was the best emotion in my life. Once destroyed, it’s destroyed. The words ‘I’m sorry’ are too light.”

Lu Xiaojiang hesitated: “You and Zhou—you don’t know, he…” Huang Xi Tang’s mind jolted, suddenly cutting off his words, not realizing her voice was urgent and sharp: “You told him?”

Lu Xiaojiang’s expression suddenly froze.

Huang Xi Tang glanced at him, a sense of despair welled up in her heart, but it seemed to dissipate instantly. Everything didn’t matter anymore. She could hear Lu Xiaojiang urgently saying something in her ear.

“Lu Xiaojiang,” Xi Tang turned the steering wheel and stepped on the accelerator, “let it be.”

Lu Xiaojiang turned around and saw the man standing at the door: Zhao Pingjin stood in front of the courtyard, his face pale and cold, motionless, staring at him as if looking at a huge monster.

The stage play “The Last Night of This World” began its national tour on the first day of the Mid-Autumn Festival holiday, starting with the first public performance in Beijing. A Kuan returned to serve as Huang Xi Tang’s assistant again. That night, coming down from the celebration banquet, Xi Tang saw a bunch of orange-red flower branches in the car, the slender stems wrapped in newspaper, revealing several fleshy flowers, with small red berries already formed among the branches. At every public activity or performance, fans sent numerous flowers, and artists rarely took them back. Yet assistant A Kuan specifically picked this bunch and placed it on the back seat of her car.

A Kuan remembered this flower. The last time it appeared was on the night Xi Tang won her first film award trophy for “Spring Delay.”

Xi Tang got into the car, glancing indifferently at the bunch of flowers without saying anything.

When getting out of the car at the hotel, Xi Tang pushed open the door and walked out. A Kuan gathered her things and asked: “What about these flowers?” Xi Tang paused, not looking back. After a while, she said: “You handle it.”

After the Beijing performances ended, Xi Tang followed the troupe to several cities in the south. During occasional rest periods, she mostly returned to Shanghai. It had been quite a while since she came to Beijing. When she had time to visit Beijing again, it was after that season’s tour had ended, and her grandparents invited her to stay in Beijing for a short while.

In November in Beijing, the temperature had already dropped. Xi Tang accompanied the old man and old lady at home to catch the last wave of red leaves; by the end of the month, the maple leaves would quickly fall completely. As the autumn wind grew fiercer, Xi Tang visited Guosheng Hutong several times but never saw Zhao Pingjin again. Casually asking Li Shu’an, she learned that the Zhao family’s old man had been hospitalized for almost more than a month, probably not doing well. Now with the situation unclear, Zhao Pingjin didn’t often come out to socialize.

That night, Li Shu’an arranged for Xi Tang to have dinner with him and his daughter because Xi Tang had taken on new work and would return to Shanghai in a few days. Halfway through the meal, Li Shu’an received a call from his secretary; there was an emergency meeting at the department that needed to be convened immediately. Xi Tang let him go, stayed to finish dinner with Xinxin, then drove the little girl back to Guosheng Hutong. When she came out, she saw Zhao Pingjin’s car parked at the entrance of the hutong. She walked to the front of the Zhao family’s large courtyard. The small guard on duty, Wu, recognized her and smiled: “Do you have a business?” Xi Tang asked: “Is Zhou at home?”

The spacious quadrangle courtyard was empty, with only a lamp under the eaves swaying in the wind. Xi Tang passed through the veranda and walked to the small flower hall on the west side. The lights were on, and there was a figure in the study. Xi Tang approached and saw Zhao Pingjin, one hand pressing his stomach, lying on the table with his eyes closed, resting.

He wasn’t asleep, though. Hearing the sound, he immediately woke up. Xi Tang stood at the door, quietly looking at him.

Zhao Pingjin stared at her for a long time, feeling as if he were sleepwalking. After a while, he said in a hoarse voice: “Come here.”

Xi Tang walked over, standing by his chair.

Zhao Pingjin sat up, extended his arm around her waist, and silently rested his head against her.

Xi Tang glanced at the table. His phone and cigarette box were thrown on it, with half a glass of water and pills beside them. She said softly: “Are you alright?” Zhao Pingjin shook his head.

Xi Tang asked: “How is the old man doing?” Zhao Pingjin shook his head again.

Xi Tang hadn’t expected him to shake his head. This was news that even the family doctors had to keep strictly confidential. She asked purely out of politeness and concern, not daring to expect an answer.

Xi Tang controlled her measure of comfort and said: “Don’t exhaust yourself too much.”

Zhao Pingjin lifted his head, looked at her, then closed his eyes and leaned against her: “I used to think I was quite capable, but in recent years, I’ve realized I’m not that capable. Like your matters, I didn’t handle any of them well. Now with the old man lying in the hospital, when it’s time for me to attend to him, I can’t even keep up physically.”

The doctor told him today that family members should be mentally prepared at any time. Now the person was being maintained by machines, waiting for Zhao Pindong’s plane to land.

Xi Tang wanted to comfort him: “Alright, my entire acting career was built by you.”

Zhao Pingjin smiled tiredly, but the smile flashed and disappeared, without answering her.

Xi Tang’s arms hung at her sides. After hesitating for a long while, she still raised her hand and embraced Zhao Pingjin, her elbow touching his back, her palm gently resting on the nape of his neck, her hand touching the back of his head, the crisp collar of his shirt, and the clean, sharp short black hair at the back of his head—her favorite place to caress him.

Zhao Pingjin closed his eyes, sighed, and buried his head deeper in her embrace.

Xi Tang placed her hand on the back of his neck, gently caressing him, one stroke after another, while he remained motionless, nestled against her.

Xi Tang saw a shadow on the floor slightly shift in the light. She turned her head and discovered Zhao Pingjin’s mother standing at the door of the study, steadily watching the two of them, who knows for how long.

Seeing that Huang Xi Tang had noticed her, Professor Zhou didn’t speak, silently turning and leaving. Two days later, Xi Tang saw an obituary on the evening news.