A’Ru opened the door wide, lifting the curtain tassels, smiling as she said: “He looks somewhat familiar, seems like an old customer, specifically asking for you.”

Xie Chi picked up the wooden hairpin and casually pinned up her hair, walking downstairs listlessly: “Male or female?”

“A gentleman, wearing a tight felt hat that squeezes his face like a big mud plate.” A’Ru followed behind, suppressing her laughter. “Quite amusing.”

Seeing the customer waiting downstairs, Xie Chi walked over with an unchanged expression: “Hello, what do you need?”

“I want two custom suits and two shirts made, no trousers, needed within half a month.”

“Any requirements for style or fabric?”

The man casually pointed at the display rack: “Like those.”

“Shall I take your measurements first?”

“No rush.” The man walked around the shop, picked out a pocket square, then asked: “Do you have pocket watches here?”

“Yes, upstairs please.”

Xie Chi led him upstairs, opened the cabinet, pulled out a drawer, and took out the pocket watches inside. A’Ru followed up and stood beside them watching.

Xie Chi saw the man was sweating profusely and constantly swallowing, so she suddenly asked: “Would you like something to drink?”

“That would be troublesome.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Just cold water—it’s too hot today.”

“Can you drink ice?”

“That would be perfect.”

Xie Chi said to A’Ru: “Go next door and get some ice, ask for more.”

“Yes.”

A’Ru went downstairs.

When the footsteps faded, the man looked up at her: “You should change to one of your own people.”

“Hard to find.”

“I’ll apply to assign someone for you—just find some excuse to replace her.”

“Forget it, let’s keep things as they are.” Xie Chi fingered a watch chain. “Her craftsmanship is good—I can’t match it. She’s diligent, does the work of two people, saves me a lot of trouble.” She looked up at the man with a slight smile. “You know I’m not easy to get along with—who knows how long it would take to break in someone new.”

The man smiled: “Alright, just tell me if you need people.”

“Mm.”

“Let’s talk business.” The man lifted his case and carefully opened it. “Nearly traded my life for this.”

“So much.”

“This is part of it. Prepare this first—I’ll bring the rest tomorrow.”

“Don’t come anymore. I’ll go find you at the usual place.”

“Good.”

“Originally was supposed to hand over to Old Zhou, but he’s been missing for three days—something must have happened, so I came to find you. I have other tasks and need to leave Nanjing, so I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you with another trip.”

“The checkpoints are so tight now—it won’t be easy for me alone to get them through.”

“That’s why I suggest you go to Beiping first to find Mr. Xiao.”

“Alright.” Xie Chi found a box and moved them out one by one.

The man took out his handkerchief to wipe his sweat: “Yesterday a Japanese employee died at Haoye Bank.”

Xie Chi lightly hummed in response.

“What does ‘mm’ mean?”

Xie Chi removed the burnt incense, went to the drawer to get a new stick and lit it, saying casually: “Haven’t killed in too long—was bored, killed one for excitement.”

The man looked at her silently.

Xie Chi cleared the incense ash that had fallen on the table, seeing his grave expression, her lips curved into a smile: “Just kidding—you actually believed it?”

“No discipline.”

“I’m not officially one of your people—what discipline are we talking about?” Xie Chi stirred the curling thin smoke. “The little devil was secretly drawing maps at midnight, drawing right to my doorstep. He followed the scent of death over himself—what could I do?”

“Be careful.”

Xie Chi looked at him airily, responding perfunctorily: “I know.”

The man examined her slender fingers: “But these hands that hold embroidery needles really don’t hesitate when wielding a knife.”

“Keep your voice down.”

Just then, A’Ru came up with ice water.

Xie Chi took out a pocket watch: “This one suits you better—elegant and understated.”

“I’ll take it.”

A’Ru set down the ice water: “Your water.”

The man nodded: “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Help the gentleman with measurements.”

“Alright.” A’Ru made way for him. “Please, sir.”

…

Xie Chi slept all day on the train and woke when the sky was dim.

Her head ached a bit, so she poured a glass of liquor and drank it down. After two glasses, she felt much better.

Xie Chi held the empty glass, leaning her head against the window, staring blankly at the slowly sliding scenery outside. She had to drink every day—even if just a sip, it counted as finishing today’s business.

In the half year after leaving the mountain stronghold, she kept having nightmares, dreaming of crawling among corpses without escape. Even after waking, she felt panicked, time seemed confused, unable to distinguish reality from dreams. Only after a couple of drinks could she clear her head. Gradually she developed this bad habit.

She sighed lightly, put down the glass, and suddenly thought of that little bandit.

In a flash, it had been over five years.

At that time, the bodies were burned beyond recognition—impossible to tell which was which. She piled them together piece by piece, body by body. Coming down the mountain, she collapsed from exhaustion in a ditch.

When she woke again, the money on her was stolen—that was life-saving money borrowed from Fourth Brother! And the jade pendant earrings He Feng had bought her before, originally meant as a wedding gift for Song Wan, but now that she was dead, they could only be tucked into her corpse. The remaining four pairs were kept close to her heart, originally wanting to keep them as mementos or pawn them in emergency, but now they were gone too. Even that pistol was taken along with everything else.

Now it was perfect—the man was dead and the money was gone too.

She sat by the ditch thinking—should she go back up the mountain to get those earrings? Song Wan still wore a gold bracelet on her hand, luckily the devils hadn’t taken it. It should be worth quite a bit.

Then she punched herself and cursed inwardly: wanting dead people’s things—be human!

All she had left was the knife He Zhangzhi had given her, with a gem embedded in it. The thieves probably didn’t recognize its value, so they didn’t take it along. Though this was the last thing left from the mountain stronghold, though He Feng was dead, though she had feelings for him, sentiment couldn’t fill her stomach or keep her alive.

Xie Chi didn’t hesitate to pawn it for some money.

There were many Japanese in town. Xie Chi didn’t dare run around openly—the Japanese leader at that banquet had seen her, so she had to leave quickly.

Now the Xie family didn’t want her, the He family was wiped out—Suzhou was her only hope.

With bad luck, misfortune followed everywhere. Zhi’an Art Academy was closed, and Yang Zhizhi had moved away with his whole family. Xie Chi made another wasted trip.

But when the cart reaches the mountain, there will be a road. Xie Chi met an old tailor going to Shanghai to open a shop, who happened to need an apprentice. Having nowhere better to go, she followed him.

She didn’t want to hang herself on one tree. Painting was relatively ethereal—without fame, if paintings didn’t sell well, it was better to have multiple skills for making a living. She learned tailoring from the master during the day, earning meager wages, and took small painting commissions at night. Gradually life improved.

One day, the master had her follow a servant to take measurements at a client’s home. It was an amusing wealthy lady who kept chatting with her. Xie Chi didn’t like conversation and responded stiffly. After a few rounds, the lady found her boring and closed her mouth.

After taking measurements, the lady let her leave on her own without having servants escort her.

Passing through the corridor, Xie Chi noticed many paintings on the walls. She looked at them several times and finally stopped before a half-foot oil painting.

“Like it?”

Hearing the voice, Xie Chi looked over. At the end of the corridor stood a young man wearing glasses, well-mannered and very refined-looking. Xie Chi immediately thought of Xue Dingqing—intellectuals really had similar scholarly elegance. She wasn’t startled and said plainly: “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.”

Xiao Wangyun looked at the case in her hand: “You came to take measurements for my mother?”

“Yes.” Xie Chi couldn’t help looking at the painting again. “Is this New Realism?”

“You understand painting?”

“I’ve read some art magazines, know a little.”

“Can you paint?”

“Yes, but I paint traditional Chinese paintings.”

“How did you change to this profession?”

“My technique isn’t refined—hard to make a living.”

Xiao Wangyun smiled and approached: “I learned Chinese painting as a child, later switched to Western painting.”

“Isn’t the current trend Chinese-Western fusion? Your paintings have some interesting elements.”

“I thought you pure traditional painters would oppose this.”

“Still need to keep up with the times—this is a necessary stage in artistic and cultural development. Inheritance and innovation are equally important.”

“I have more paintings. Interested in critiquing them?”

Xie Chi looked at him with calm eyes: “Just humble opinions—sorry, I need to go back.”

Xiao Wangyun didn’t stop her: “Until next time then.”

Xie Chi nodded politely and left.

Later, Xiao Wangyun personally came to the tailor shop to collect clothes. The two met again and gradually became familiar, often discussing painting techniques together. Later still, Xiao Wangyun went to teach at Central University, and Xie Chi followed him to Nanjing, opening a tailor shop. Two years later, Xiao Wangyun was transferred to Beiping Art College, while Xie Chi remained in Nanjing.

It had been nearly half a year since they last met.

Learning that Xie Chi was coming, Xiao Wangyun waited at the station early.

The train was over an hour late.

Xie Chi came out carrying two large cases. Seeing her, Xiao Wangyun immediately went to meet her: “You’re here.”

“Mm.”

He took her cases: “So heavy.”

“Stuffed full of thread spools.”

Xiao Wangyun smiled: “Haven’t seen you in half a year—you’ve lost quite a bit of weight.”

“Then you’ll have to treat me to several good meals.”

Xiao Wangyun took her to stay at an inn. After the long dusty journey without even a sip of water, Xie Chi immediately opened the case to show him a pile of bundled thread: “Remember this—except for red, black, and yellow, all the others are hollow inside. If you happen to get searched, run if you can.” Xie Chi closed the case. “Large quantity this time—be careful.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I’ll deliver these first, order you some food, and take you out tonight when I return.”

“Good.”

Xiao Wangyun turned to leave when Xie Chi called out: “Walk slowly, be careful—these are lifesavers.”

He laughed: “Now it’s your turn to lecture me.”

Xie Chi sat on the bed and fell backward: “Go on, I’ll sleep first—exhausted.”

“See you tonight.”

…

Xie Chi had been to Beiping twice but never heard opera here.

Joining them was also Xiao Wangyun’s friend, called Jiang Shouyue. At first glance, these two names seemed quite compatible.

After one opera finished, Jiang Shouyue stood up: “I’ll go backstage to say hello.”

Xiao Wangyun looked at her tenderly: “Go ahead.”

Seeing Jiang Shouyue leave, Xie Chi sipped her tea and nudged him: “She likes you.”

Xiao Wangyun paused for a long time: “What kind of like?”

Xie Chi looked away at the people in the seats: “Stop playing dumb.”

“How can you tell?”

“They say artists understand romance, but you’re completely clueless.” Xie Chi glanced at him sideways, her lips slightly curved. “You really didn’t feel it?”

“Now that you mention it, I do feel something.”

Xie Chi sighed lightly: “Appearance, background, talent—she’s more than good enough for you.”

“I always thought she was cold toward me, thought she wasn’t interested.”

“Coldness is personality—her eyes hold love, only you can’t see it.”

Xiao Wangyun nodded with a light laugh: “That’s good then.”

Xie Chi looked at him again: “Seems like good news is coming.”

“Thanks for the blessing.”

Xie Chi raised her teacup and clinked it with his: “Then I can’t call her Miss Jiang anymore—should change to sister-in-law.”

“She’s reserved by nature—don’t call her that randomly.”

Suddenly, chaotic sounds came from outside the building as a group of Japanese in civilian clothes barged in.

Hearing Japanese, Xie Chi immediately gripped her cup tightly. Xiao Wangyun grasped her hand: “Relax.”

The Japanese wanted to clear the place, driving people out fiercely, pushing tables and chairs into disorder.

Xie Chi stood up: “Let’s go.”

“Call out whoever’s in charge here.”

She was going down the stairs when this shout suddenly stopped her.

Xiao Wangyun didn’t react in time and bumped into her back. Afraid she’d fall, he quickly gripped her shoulders: “Why did you stop?”

That person’s voice was like urgent midnight bells, heavily striking her heart. Too familiar.

Xie Chi slowly walked down the stairs, following the crowd toward the door. She saw the leading man was tall, wearing a white shirt, yellow pants and black boots, with his arm around the opera house owner’s shoulder as he spoke, frightening the man into trembling.

Xie Chi’s gaze followed that man until he turned around.

His face wore a playful light smile. Seeing the woman walking past him, her gaze like clear frost, it instantly froze his smile.

Xie Chi’s heart shook, her feet felt weighted with stones, each step heavy.

“Move faster, what are you looking at!” A Japanese ruffian pushed her hard. Xiao Wangyun quickly steadied her: “We’re leaving now.”

The white shirt stared at Xiao Wangyun’s hand, suddenly strode over, gripped Xie Chi’s wrist, and pulled her back.

The two looked into each other’s eyes.

Xie Chi stared at him without speaking or struggling. She stood unmoved, steadily looking at this familiar yet extremely strange face.

Unexpectedly, the person before her suddenly bent down close to her face, acting as if he didn’t recognize her, frivolously lifting her chin: “Where did this little beauty come from? Keep me company for a while?”

…