The person she had nearly “severed relations” with the night before—the heartbreaking scene vivid in her mind, the ice in her heart not yet melted—and now, just one day later, they had to meet again. While she sat speechless in the passenger seat, the car had already turned onto the familiar main road. Her elbow rested against the car window, knuckles pressed against her forehead. She said nothing.

Finding a parking spot in the residential complex, parking, getting out of the car—she saw Long Ziyi smoking in the old spot.

The twins were there too.

Saturday, a bright sunny day after a night of snow and frost. Every other family passing by clutched their children’s hands, afraid the kids would slip. But the two little chubby ones were still chasing and playing in the fitness area, having a snowball fight. Long Ziyi had her back to them, arms crossed, talking on the phone. The cigarette between her two fingers kept dropping ash. She looked like she was arguing with Chu Yaozhi again about custody of the twins—very irritated, frowning, speaking rapid-fire regardless of the setting. When Long Qi closed the car door on this side, only then did Long Ziyi glance over at the sound. Her arguing voice didn’t get quieter, but it did slow down. Then she saw Jin Yiken getting out of the driver’s seat and took a drag on her cigarette. Finally, after seeing Lian Shaozi getting out of the back seat, Long Ziyi completely paused her argument with whoever was on the other end of the line. The cigarette, smoked halfway, paused in the air for two seconds, then she pressed it into the standing ashtray beside her. She hung up the phone.

Her right hand went to her side waist, a posture ready for battle.

Lu Zimu was home.

They sat opposite each other at a long table. Lian Shaozi’s bag was placed on an empty chair. Long Qi stood silently with hands in her pockets. Lu Zimu wore her usual home outfit—athletic pants and cotton slippers—but she hadn’t slept well. The hair on the right side of her head was half-standing, and she looked a bit haggard. From start to finish, she didn’t dare meet her face-to-face. Occasionally taking brief glances, whenever Long Qi looked up, she would shift her gaze away and drink water. In less than five minutes, Lu Zimu had already finished an entire glass of water.

Long Ziyi said don’t just drink water, supplement some vitamin C. Then she brought a bag out from the room and set it on the table with a “bang”—Celine, crocodile leather, clasp style—deliberately placed opposite Lian Shaozi’s Hermès Birkin bag on the chair. Without batting an eye, she pulled out a box of effervescent tablets from inside. Lu Zimu said how come the effervescent tablets are in this bag? Long Ziyi replied instantly: “I carry them to work.”

“Didn’t you say effervescent tablets must be kept fixed in the study drawer?”

Long Ziyi glanced at Lu Zimu with a cold gleam. Lu Zimu stopped talking. And Jin Yiken now played the role of the dutiful filial son (son-in-law). Although Long Qi had fallen out with Long Ziyi, his mind was crystal clear—those who should be pleased were still pleased. He arranged the cups, poured the tea, calling her “Auntie, please have some tea” with every breath. Lu Zimu had never properly conversed with Jin Yiken before. When the tea was placed beside her hand, she took the initiative to say: “You can just call me Zimu.”

“Hello, Zimu. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Lian Shaozi cut off Jin Yiken and picked up the conversation. Her voice carried a smile—grand yet soft. Long Ziyi still stood at the side, not taking a seat, hand on waist holding a cup. The tea liquid surface rippled slightly in the glass. Before Lu Zimu could respond, she intercepted on this side, hurriedly replying to Lian Shaozi: “Hello there, in-law. Have you eaten?”

“At this hour, could I possibly not have eaten?”

Long Qi intercepted the conversation. She and Long Ziyi made eye contact, then both glanced away, as if mutually rolling their eyes at each other. Lian Shaozi slowly continued afterward: “We had brunch before leaving.”

After speaking, she took out the file bag containing the blood test report from her bag. She didn’t place it directly on the table but handed it under the table to Long Qi’s hands: “This visit is mainly for three matters. The first matter—Qiqi’s blood test is complete.”

Long Ziyi and Lu Zimu’s attention snapped back in unison. Lian Shaozi gently patted Long Qi’s hand under the table, handing over the speaking authority to her. Only then did she place the file bag on the table, saying four words plainly: “Negative, no illness.”

Chair legs scraped against the floor. Long Ziyi finally deigned to pull out a chair back and sit down. Setting down her water, she grabbed the file bag, tore it open, and took out the report to look at. Lu Zimu followed her gaze. Both their eyeballs moved from the top to the bottom of the paper. Their shoulders simultaneously relaxed slightly. Immediately after, before Lu Zimu finished reading, Long Ziyi slapped the report on the table with a “what the hell does this have to do with me” attitude, tossing her hair back, replying nonchalantly with four words: “Pretty good. Saves trouble.”

Long Qi rolled her eyes upward. Lian Shaozi didn’t see it.

Jin Yiken sat at her right side with legs crossed. When Lian Shaozi spoke, he didn’t speak. In situations with female elders, he positioned himself particularly well. When tea levels dropped, he added more. When conversation topics were directed at him, he picked them up. When not being addressed, he observed and assessed the situation—looking at Long Ziyi’s face, then at Lian Shaozi’s eyes. When Long Qi was unhappy, he pulled her hand onto his knee under the table. His expression remained unchanged, sitting like a clock, but actually quite busy.

“Yes, dust has settled. Good thing. The second matter—Qiqi and…”

“Ah, I seem to be a bit hungry.” Before Lian Shaozi finished speaking, Long Ziyi started acting up again. Frowning, she forcefully interrupted the topic, looking at Lu Zimu. “I didn’t eat breakfast today. Didn’t you just wake up? Aren’t you hungry?”

Lu Zimu was stunned. Long Ziyi continued on her own: “Let’s order that three-yellow chicken place again today. You should try it too, in-law. That three-yellow chicken is very famous. Usually you have to queue to buy it. Will you eat it?”

The last sentence was directed at Long Qi.

Before Long Qi could answer, Long Ziyi frowned and said to Lian Shaozi: “Kids these days don’t know how to cook. They eat takeout every day. Once they get used to eating outside food, they start complaining that home-cooked rice is too coarse. They’re incredibly difficult to raise.”

Lian Shaozi smiled.

The so-called second matter was silently nipped in the bud.

After Long Ziyi finished ordering takeout, Lian Shaozi asked: “How is Zimu’s new book progressing?”

“You read my books?”

Lu Zimu looked up.

Lian Shaozi smiled.

“Your essay collection from last year was particularly interesting. I finished reading it in one go on my flight back to the country. I especially like the fifth piece discussing horn buttons and freedom.”

“What do horn buttons and freedom have to do with each other?” Long Ziyi interjected.

“Go read it yourself.” Long Qi replied.

“…” Lu Zimu shrugged, nodded. “I’m quite surprised. That book had very poor sales. Thank you.”

“Poor sales are a matter of distribution channels, not the work itself. I can pick out a pile of books with empty content but million-copy sales on the market. I can hype up a blank sheet of paper to a ten-million price tag. But with ten million, it’s very difficult to find a truly worthy object. So Qiqi is rare. You are also rare.”

Lian Shaozi said this last sentence looking into Lu Zimu’s eyes. Lu Zimu, having seen the world, nodded calmly and slowly took a sip of water. Long Ziyi immediately shot a piercing look over. Lian Shaozi struck while the iron was hot: “Your *Desolate Yet Not Extreme* from back then was especially stunning.”

“Oh… that’s ancient history.”

“It still has standing in the industry.”

“Actually, it’s the actors’ credit.”

“That year’s Asian-American Best Actress wasn’t Yan Wenjing, but Best Script was *Desolate Yet Not Extreme*. Whether the script made the actor or the actor made the script is obvious.”

“The director also deserves credit.”

“The director didn’t make the nominations.”

“…”

“Why didn’t you write any more scripts after that?”

Lian Shaozi asked the question. Lu Zimu paused for three seconds, then shrugged again: “I’m not very good at team collaboration models. Making a script is too grinding. In comparison, the environment of creating alone at home suits me better.”

“What a pity, with such a good foundation.”

“Knowing what you want means there’s no pity.”

Lian Shaozi leaned back slightly. Her wrist rested on the table surface, still staring at Lu Zimu. Her fingers tapped lightly on the table surface—four finger joints flowing smoothly up and down, producing rhythmic tapping sounds. Just four sounds, then stopping abruptly. Lian Shaozi continued: “I know an old gentleman whose mentality is a bit like yours, even more extreme than you. He dislikes having his work changed, doesn’t even allow editors to change a single typo during proofreading.”

“All writers are like that. It’s just that some people have the ability to preserve every word under their pen, while others don’t. Works that deviate from their original intention, even if they receive rave reviews afterward, are no different from waste drafts to the creator. I quite understand your old gentleman.”

“The old gentleman would definitely like you.”

“But people like that generally aren’t liked by editors.”

“What if that editor were me?”

…

…

After this rapid-fire dialogue at the dining table, five people facing each other, brief silence. Then Lian Shaozi broke it with the sound of a file bag touching the table surface: “The third matter. Lu Zimu, I want to commission a manuscript from you.”

…

“Me?”

“Her?” Long Ziyi asked.

Lian Shaozi took out a stack of papers from the file bag: “Long story short—Bao Deming’s short story *The Wicked Woman*. Once adapted for film and television, it will be a very advantageous commercial representative work for Qiqi. As an original work, the novel’s standard is superb, but the problem is it’s only eight thousand words total. The novel’s narrative technique is also unsuitable for direct use as a script. The maximum time I can fight for here is one month. Please adapt this novel into a suitable and excellent script as quickly as possible.”

“…There are many excellent screenwriters.”

“There are indeed many excellent screenwriters, but you are the only screenwriter Bao Deming thinks highly of. *Desolate Yet Not Extreme* ranks in the top ten of his most admired films list. Your adaptation is a bonus point.”

“Bonus point?”

“My company is competing with another company in the industry for the copyright to Bao Deming’s works.” Jin Yiken spoke up. He’d observed enough, speaking leisurely.

“Wait a minute.” Lu Zimu raised her hand and pressed down in the air. “Wait wait wait. If you haven’t obtained the copyright yet, then I have no qualification to adapt it at all.”

“Rules are set for people who follow rules. Do I look like one? Does my mom look like one?”

“I have a hundred million I can use to paint blueprints for Bao Deming,” Lian Shaozi continued. “But I choose to give him a complete script, written by a young person he admires. Believe me, he’ll have more patience dealing with the latter.”

“If I secure this copyright, it’ll be convenient for me to secure copyrights to all his works.” Jin Yiken.

Lian Shaozi: “It’ll be convenient for Qiqi to become the absolute protagonist of this series. She’s qualified, but everything must be fully prepared. And you are her full preparation.”

“No.” Lu Zimu shook her head.

Silence.

Even Long Ziyi didn’t speak now, holding her glass and drinking water. Lu Zimu looked at Lian Shaozi. After a long while, she said: “I can’t write it.”

…

“What kind of ‘can’t write’?”

“I’m not poor.”

…

…

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Wait, that’s a misunderstanding. That’s not what I meant either. What I mean is I’m not poor. I’m not poor enough.”

Lian Shaozi’s thumb pad rubbed finely against the side of her index finger, staring at Lu Zimu who said this. Lu Zimu shrugged: “You’re all not outsiders, so I’ll lay it all out. I understand what you mean. It both makes money and fame, and adds luster to Qiqi’s career. If I could do this, I definitely would. But the problem is—” she pointed at herself “—I know where my abilities are now.”

“Why *Desolate Yet Not Extreme* succeeded back then—because I was short of money back then. I was poor enough. Only when people are poor do they have ideals and ambition. I spent every day thinking about writing a fucking work better than others so I could live a badass life. And then for that little bit of manuscript fee, letting those producers, directors—people who think having a bit of money in their pockets means they can control the story direction—come and gang-rape my work over and over again. I endured it back then because I was poor. Then I got everything I deserved. But success came too early. I lost my goal. After that, I’ve never been able to write another satisfactory novel. I can’t even take care of my own things, so how can I control someone else’s work? Much less a master work by Bao Deming.”

…

“You’ve never been able to write another satisfactory novel.”

After hearing everything, Lian Shaozi only repeated this one sentence.

Long Ziyi now didn’t dare breathe, staring at the two of them.

“Then have you considered,” Lian Shaozi said, “perhaps you’re just cut out for scriptwriting.”

…

Ding—phone rings.

Long Ziyi’s. The ringtone instantly broke the atmosphere of the conversation. But she didn’t want to leave now. Muttering “annoying,” after seeing the caller, she put it to her ear. Probably a client. She pulled out her chair and stood up, walking a few steps then staring back, wishing she could press a pause button on the scene. Long Qi knew which side she was on now. If Lu Zimu could be persuaded to return to her old profession and write scripts, Long Ziyi would have to treat Lian Shaozi to a good meal.

Lian Shaozi also watched Long Ziyi.

Her fingers tapped on the table surface again—four smooth “tap” sounds. When Long Ziyi entered the inner room, she looked back at Lu Zimu. Raising her hand, she loosened the bun coiled at the back of her head. The hairpin clicked and slid onto the table surface. Her long hair cascaded down, forming a contrast with her sharp white silk suit. Then she ran her five fingers through her hair. The grand and proper smile of the previous second transformed into the fatigue and melancholy of the next second in private. She said four words: “I got divorced.”

Long Qi’s neck went cold. She felt this scene was particularly familiar. Looking at Jin Yiken, he had no reaction—unmoved by eight winds, not even a ripple in his eyes.

And Lu Zimu hadn’t seen this scene before. She was stunned.

“Resigned from the executive position I held for over ten years, moved out of the house I lived in for over twenty years, gave up most of the joint property to fight for custody of my minor child, changed from two people advancing and retreating together to one person fighting alone. But I don’t have time to grieve. When my husband presents the agreement to his extramarital lover to claim credit, I must race against time to pick up my old trade and throw myself back into the old battlefield, snatching food from the tiger’s mouth of those mountain tops one by one. Is this the life I wanted for myself? I could easily give up one son and take sufficient living expenses to vacation abroad. But then I would never live better than my ex-husband for the rest of my life. My subordinates would no longer respect me, my children would no longer rely on me, even my property couldn’t be firmly held in my hands. For you, adapting Bao Deming’s novel is just a challenge. For me, it’s betting everything. I’m entrusting my career along with the second half of my life to you, yet you refuse me without even opening a document file once. Yes, you can completely ignore whether I live or die, go ahead and extinguish the little fighting spirit left in a pitiful woman. You can also refuse to take responsibility for Long Qi’s career, just like you’ve never taken responsibility for her life. Go ahead and guard your comfortable three-acre field. This pitiful mother and son, these two pitiful children, have nothing to do with you.”

Her index finger tapped the table surface as Lian Shaozi said this.

…

Lu Zimu was dumbfounded.

Jin Yiken’s knee leaned toward Long Qi’s side and touched her. She looked at him. Following his slight head tilt gesture, she looked at Lian Shaozi. Lian Shaozi showed a weary appearance to Lu Zimu, but turned to face Long Qi and raised her right eyebrow.

Understood immediately.

Before Lu Zimu could react, she added one sentence: “You owe me.”

…

This sentence struck to the heart and bones.

Lu Zimu’s defenses completely collapsed. She sighed, lowered her head to rub her face, then looked up and said: “Fine. I’ll write it.”

The door clicked shut. Long Ziyi finally finished her phone call and charged over. By now, Lian Shaozi had already “wrapped up”—hair pinned up, signed contract collected, holding her sunglasses, pulling out her chair to stand. The frames hadn’t even reached her nose bridge when she dropped a line to Lu Zimu: “Prepare a spare key to your home for me. In the next month, I’ll make unscheduled visits to check on the manuscript.”

Long Ziyi’s chair wasn’t even warm yet. Her face showed an expression of “what secret code are you two communicating?” And Lu Zimu looked toward Jin Yiken, who had been sitting with legs crossed the whole time. Having recovered somewhat, she mouthed four words:

Your mom. Super hot.

So Jin Yiken’s “cunning and slippery” ways were mostly inherited.

Securing Lu Zimu was equivalent to securing half of *The Wicked Woman*. Lian Shaozi didn’t delay. Without stopping, she brought the two of them to the second venue—Yiming Bay.

This time she didn’t let her and Jin Yiken follow. Long Qi knew who her conversation partner was, but didn’t know what they would discuss. Twenty-five minutes after Lian Shaozi went upstairs, Wu’er’s phone call came.

At that moment, she was chatting with Jin Yiken about the tactic his mother had used on Lu Zimu. She said she’d fallen for that tactic too. The first time Lian Shaozi invited her for tea years ago, she’d almost agreed to break up with him because of that tactic.

He said she was still too green. He’d experienced it over twenty times, from childhood to now.

He said this while in a text meeting, elbow resting on his knee, looking at a routine report sent by Lao Ping on his phone.

After a three-second pause, he added: “Shaogao—over a hundred times.”

“That shows he’s quite obedient, yielding every time.”

“That shows he’s stupid. When my mom uses this tactic, most of what she says is the opposite. You really believed she gave up property division for Shaogao’s custody rights?”

“?”

“With this divorce, my dad lost half his empire.”

She was getting interested. Just as she was about to hear about this awesome process, Wu’er’s call came. Thinking it was about *The Town* set being ready, urging her to schedule filming, she just picked up when she heard Wu’er ask bluntly: “Long Qi, tell me, where did you get this divine resource?”

“What?” Not understanding, sitting on the first-floor lobby sofa at Yiming Bay, her attention was still on Jin Yiken’s previous statement. She replied absently.

“Just now, Yan Wenjing’s agent called me asking for *The Town* script.”

Her lazy attitude withdrew slightly. She looked up.

“She wants to compete with me for the female lead?”

“If she wanted to compete with you for the female lead, that would be normal. The key point is, she actually wants to play a supporting role for you. Yan Wenjing. Yan Wenjing!” Wu’er deliberately repeated the name twice with exaggerated amazement. “Yan Wenjing wants to act in my script, and is willing to play a supporting role for you. Is my script this good??”

“Tell Wu’er not to get too excited. It’s not about her script. Her boss is awesome.” The voice on the phone was too loud. Jin Yiken heard it. While voice chatting with Lao Ping, he tilted his forehead and dropped this line by Long Qi’s ear.

“What!” Wu’er didn’t hear, still excited, asking loudly.

“You knew?” Long Qi asked.

Jin Yiken didn’t answer, listening to voice messages. But the corner of his mouth hooked up, looking like a “look at this little genius” young master.

Then his gaze shifted from her face to the elevator entrance behind. She looked over. Lian Shaozi was coming down.

Sunglasses, formal hat, carrying her bag, straight woolen coat draped over her shoulders, methodically putting on leather gloves. This battle seemed even more successful than the one with Lu Zimu. She exited the elevator, walking with vigorous strides. Long Qi hung up the phone, then was pulled up by Jin Yiken’s hand. After catching up with Lian Shaozi, Lian Shaozi asked: “Did you receive the call?”

“Mm.”

“Very good. As long as we secure the copyright for *The Wicked Woman*, reputation and box office won’t be problems. Lu Zimu is the best guarantor. Although *The Town* script is good, the setup is too weak. Yan Wenjing hasn’t acted in years. Her comeback is only as a supporting role. She is the best guarantor. Yiken, have Lao Ping prepare coordination. These two films must be released in the same year. In the arena, only having our people is the best-looking battle. Qiqi, listen carefully.”

Lian Shaozi walked with eyes straight ahead, raising her index finger.

“You will receive many more phone calls next. In the days to come, Yan Wenjing’s resources will be handed over to you bit by bit. The directors she collaborates with, the scripts she has her eye on, those truly difficult local power figures in her social circle—things that would take you ten years to obtain, Yan Wenjing will give you everything in the next year. Don’t be polite, Qiqi. Accept it all.”

Walking outside the building, it was already five in the afternoon. The winter sunset slanted across Lian Shaozi’s shoulders. She turned around. Her red-soled high heels made two crisp “tap” sounds on the ground.

“Let her personally send you up to the altar she once trod upon. Watch you devour the empire she fought for.” Lian Shaozi touched her face. “Let this empire take the surname Long.”

…

The words circled in her ears. Long Qi’s chest rose and fell slightly as she looked at her.

This seemed to be a true legal wife’s real revenge against the mistress and ex-husband.

This was also the most beautiful move—to suffer hardship, receive hardship, swallow hardship, then utilize hardship to maximize its benefits.

She had been taught a good lesson.

At the same time, a black luxury car slowly approached in the passage outside the building, stopping at the side. The person in the driver’s seat got out—from afar, clearly a very handsome middle-aged man. Looking in Lian Shaozi’s direction, he walked around the car front to open the passenger door.

“Alright, today’s work is finished.” Lian Shaozi withdrew her hand, smiling. “Enjoy a good drinking session tonight. Don’t call me after ten o’clock. I have a date.”

Long Qi watched her walk toward that car. The golden sunset glow was just right. She gently touched her arm, feeling a poignant sentiment.

…

Divorce is really great.