“His family died long ago. I heard they were killed by local tyrants in the village, and in a fit of rage, he wiped out that tyrant’s entire household — a child barely in his teens, and he killed a whole family.”

Shen Ruoxi was stunned. “He killed people when he was only a teenager?”

“That’s why Mr. Xie is so bold — there is nothing in this world that can frighten him. Everyone says he is cruel and ruthless, but I don’t see him that way. In my eyes, he has always been that hardworking, enduring, and likable young man.”

As Hong Jie spoke, she seemed to remember something. “Look at me, I’ve been talking your ear off and the meat pie has nearly gone cold. All right, I’ll stop — hurry up and eat.”

After Hong Jie left, Shen Ruoxi carried the plate back to her room. She did not eat right away. Instead she returned to the bedroom and stood looking at the painting.

No wonder there were no family members in the painting — only the candy and toys a child would love. Because he had already lost his family when he was very young. He had yearned for a perfect home.

Struck by this thought, Shen Ruoxi suddenly lifted the painting off the wall. On the back, she found more small figures drawn in an unsteady, youthful hand. Beneath each figure was a single label: Father, Mother, Elder Sister, Second Sister, Third Sister…

And at the very end of the row, there was one last tiny figure — a small child — with three characters written beneath it: Little Fourth Son.

He must have been the fourth child in the family, with three older sisters above him. But his loved ones had all been murdered in a single night, and to avenge them, he had used the very same method to kill his enemies’ family.

How old had he been then? Thirteen? Fourteen? Or even younger?

Shen Ruoxi could not help but lightly trace her fingers over the words “Little Fourth Son.” Those who appear glorious on the outside are often the ones whose inner pain only they themselves can know.

In the deep of night, they lick their wounds alone, nurse their loneliness in silence, and then all that awaits them is a boundless, hollow emptiness.

Xie Yan — are we not the same kind of person?

~

After her injury healed, Shen Ruoxi returned to the dance hall to work.

Though she had taken a few days off, the floor supervisor did not utter a single word of reproach, and continued to arrange her performances with the same attentive care as before.

“Ruoxi, while you were away, the customers were going mad — asking after you every single day.” Supervisor Cai smiled. “You’re the top star of our Red Gate now. If you’d been gone a few more days, this whole business would have fallen apart.”

Shen Ruoxi knew, of course, that this was flattery. No dance hall could rely on a single songstress to stay afloat. Women like her were like fireworks — dazzling when they bloomed, and when they faded, they left nothing behind but ash.

Even if she were to leave today, others would step in to take her place. This world had never lacked for those ready to fill a vacancy.

Shen Ruoxi noticed Meimei chatting with a small-time boss — the very same man Meimei had once looked down on with barely concealed contempt.

But now, as fewer gold medals came Meimei’s way, she had no choice but to court customers like this. Those she had once dismissed without a second glance were now the very people she had to work hard to win over.

Meimei noticed her too. Their eyes met, and in Meimei’s gaze, Shen Ruoxi saw nothing but hatred and envy.

Shen Ruoxi thought: when Meimei was at the height of her fame, there must have been women who had looked at her with those same eyes. Of all the “sisters” who hovered around her daily, offering warm words and false concern, how many had been truly sincere?

“Supervisor, Mr. Dai is here.” A waiter came over. “Mr. Dai is asking whether Miss Shen has some time this evening.”

Supervisor Cai smiled. “Of course she does. This is Ruoxi’s first day back, and Mr. Dai is already here without a moment to lose — that’s real dedication. Go tell Mr. Dai that Ruoxi will be right over as soon as she finishes this song.”

After the waiter left, Supervisor Cai took Shen Ruoxi’s hand and said, “Mr. Dai is genuinely devoted to you. When he heard you’d taken leave, he kept asking me what had happened. I told him only that you had something to attend to — I didn’t mention the injury. But from the look on his face, he was very worried about you.”

“Supervisor Cai,” Shen Ruoxi suddenly asked, “someone asked me the other day — has anyone like us, women who work as songstresses, ever married into a wealthy family?”

Supervisor Cai’s expression faltered, then softened into a bitter smile. “Ruoxi, we deal with wealthy men every day in this line of work. Sometimes they treat us with warmth and shower us with gifts, and we women are easily taken in — we think they’ve fallen for us in earnest. But just as we fill our hearts with hope, the very man who was all tenderness and concern a moment ago turns around and takes another woman in his arms. We dream of marrying into a great family, but that thought has never once taken shape in their minds. They have wealth and power — why would they marry women like us? To bring us home and be laughed at?”

“Supervisor, I heard you were very famous once.”

“I was, truly. Back then I was a real star — no less than you are now. There was no shortage of men who spent fortunes on me. But among all of them, I fell for a rich young gentleman. He was wonderful to me — bought me a house, bought me clothes, fought for my honor, and even fell out with his family over me. I believed he was sincere, and I began to have thoughts I should never have had. He even promised me that he would take me in through the front door with dignity. And then? He disappeared for a whole month. I was frantic with worry. The next time I saw him was in the newspaper — reporting on his grand wedding to a daughter of an illustrious family, a match perfectly equal to his own standing.”

Shen Ruoxi could not help but pat the supervisor’s hand in quiet comfort.

Supervisor Cai smiled. “After his marriage, he still came looking for me — asking me to be his secret lover. I was heartbroken, yet I was still too blind to let go, still wanted to be with him. Until his wife sent people to deal with me: she not only poisoned my voice, but made sure I could no longer survive in the dance hall circuit. She schemed against me at every turn, and in the end, I had nothing left.”

Shen Ruoxi thought to herself: no wonder the supervisor’s voice had always sounded a little off — her throat had been damaged. For a songstress, that was nothing less than a fatal blow.

“I was forced to leave the dance hall and went into hiding in a remote alleyway. Two years later, I married a rough sort of man, and I’ve been with him ever since. It’s only these past few years — hard times pressing in — that I’ve come back out to find work again.” Supervisor Cai let out a long sigh. “Ruoxi, I’m counting on you to bring in business for me, but I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did. Someone like Mr. Dai — don’t take him too seriously. He’s not going to marry you.”

When Dai Jing saw Shen Ruoxi, his face lit up with a joy he could not conceal.

“Ruoxi,” he asked with concern, “I heard you took some time off — is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine.” Shen Ruoxi glanced at the chessboard in front of them. “What are we wagering on today?”

Dai Jing handed her the black pieces. He spoke in a tone that seemed casual, yet carried a note of unmistakable sincerity. “If you lose — will you marry me?”