At lunchtime.

Xi Tang’s phone dinged with a message from Ni Kailun: “Nice photo. Taken by Comrade Zhao?”

Xi Tang was confused: “What photo?”

Ni Kailun replied: “On your Weibo.”

Xi Tang logged in to check.

Someone had posted a photo on her account that morning. She was sitting on a brown floor, intensely reading a thick script, with morning sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto her white clothes. The light was soft, her skin appeared smooth as jade, and her face showed a captivating, serene beauty in its concentration.

The photo had a simple caption: “Woke up early to memorize my script.”

Xi Tang glanced at Zhao Pingjin sitting across from her. The culprit was calmly cutting his steak. “Stop messing with my Weibo.”

Zhao Pingjin pushed a plate of cut steak toward her and asked with good intentions: “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Xi Tang wasn’t embarrassed: “Yes, it is.”

Zhao Pingjin raised his eyes and gave her a casual glance, a smile at the corner of his mouth: “Of course. After all that effort with plastic surgery, how could it not be beautiful?”

Xi Tang pouted: “What’s that got to do with you?”

Zhao Pingjin gazed at her face as if looking at some empty place in space and time: “Who told you to get plastic surgery?”

Xi Tang straightened her back and answered: “I decided myself.”

Zhao Pingjin replied leisurely: “That kind of terrible idea—Ni Kailun definitely wouldn’t miss the opportunity, right?”

Xi Tang was immediately speechless. She couldn’t deny that.

Zhao Pingjin suddenly asked: “Why have you refused to come back to Beijing all this time?”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Xi Tang poured black pepper sauce nonchalantly.

“It cost me a lot of money.”

“How much did Ni Kailun swindle from you?”

“Never mind that.”

“Is she in charge of all your finances?”

Xi Tang had to admit it silently. What finances did she have? She was deeply in debt to the company.

Zhao Pingjin asked again: “Is she trustworthy?”

Xi Tang nodded seriously: “I’d trust her with my life.”

Zhao Pingjin suddenly asked out of nowhere: “Is she a lesbian?”

Xi Tang was stunned for a moment, then replied directly: “No.”

Zhao Pingjin asked as if casually: “When you left Beijing back then, was someone bullying you?”

It seemed he had overheard her morning phone call with Ni Kailun.

Xi Tang’s expression remained unchanged as she smiled faintly: “Besides you, who else would bully me?”

Zhao Pingjin’s expression was inscrutable, though he remained calm: “I suppose that’s true.”

Halfway through lunch, Li Ming called. The company needed an urgent contract review.

Zhao Pingjin said impatiently: “Can’t you avoid bothering me on weekends?”

Li Ming justified himself: “Whose company is it, yours or mine? Who profits when we make money, you or me?”

Zhao Pingjin answered lazily: “It’s mine, so why are you in such a hurry?”

Li Ming asked, puzzled: “Hey, that’s strange. You’re not working overtime on weekends anymore?”

Zhao Pingjin glanced at his watch: “I’ll do it when I get back, in half an hour.”

After dinner, when they returned home, Zhao Pingjin went straight to his study to look at documents.

Xi Tang went to the kitchen to clean up the morning’s cups. Through the window, she could see the new CCTV Tower in the distance, appearing grayish in the sunlight. This was the only high-rise residential building on Chang’an Avenue, in an extraordinarily valuable location. The entire apartment was designed with precision—elegant and luxurious light brown walnut furniture, and top-tier German Bulthaup kitchen appliances.

Zhao Pingjin has become increasingly low-profile over the years. The invisible wealth these people possessed in Beijing was virtually incalculable.

Xi Tang pressed the remote control, and the living room curtains slowly closed. She went to her room for an afternoon nap.

She lay on the bed with her eyes closed. The door wasn’t completely shut, and she could faintly hear Zhao Pingjin speaking softly on the phone in his study, the sound of a keyboard typing, then the chair sliding. Soon after, he walked out to the living room, and she heard the water dispenser gurgling…

A sun-filled room, him by her side, both of them at peace, doing trivial everyday things—this was the life she had always dreamed of.

Unfortunately, there would never be a chance for it now.

Xi Tang woke up from her nap around four o’clock. The apartment was completely quiet.

She didn’t know when he had finished his work and rested.

She had a night shoot and needed to leave.

Xi Tang got up and quietly packed her things. Zhao Pingjin was still sleeping in his room. She tiptoed to his door.

Zhao Pingjin had only been asleep for half an hour. Either he was a light sleeper or particularly alert; he woke immediately, his arm pressed horizontally across his forehead as he asked groggily: “What is it?”

Xi Tang said softly: “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m going back to work.”

Zhao Pingjin propped himself up on the edge of the bed to get up: “Let me drive you there.”

As soon as he sat up, he closed his eyes in discomfort.

Xi Tang knew he got dizzy easily when he hadn’t slept enough. She quickly shook her head: “Don’t get up. It’s not necessary.”

Zhao Pingjin leaned against the edge of the bed, silently looking at her for a moment: “Come here.”

Xi Tang walked in and stood by his bed.

Zhao Pingjin reached up to hold her face, pulling her toward him, and then kissed her cheek.

Xi Tang’s heart trembled, as if a large jar of honey had been poured over her, making her limbs go weak.

Zhao Pingjin’s deep voice carried a hint of a smile: “The driver will take you. Go on.”

On Wednesday, Xi Tang had a day off, and Zhao Pingjin asked her to come over.

It was the Hanlu solar term that day, with a fine autumn rain falling. Zhao Pingjin waited for her downstairs.

He watched as she stepped out of the taxi.

Huang Xi Tang was wearing makeup, dressed in a navy blue mandarin-collar qipao with subtle patterns, and a dark gray coat over it. Her every glance was elegant and graceful, causing passing men to turn and look.

She was becoming more and more beautiful, truly incredible.

Huang Xi Tang’s face was cold, showing no attention to her surroundings. Only when she looked up and saw him did she reveal a slight smile: “It’s raining outside. Why did you come out?”

Zhao Pingjin nodded slightly: “I just got back from work.”

Xi Tang was a bit embarrassed: “I expected to finish filming by five, but we had to reshoot two scenes.”

Zhao Pingjin said: “It’s fine, but—you’re cooking tonight.”

When Xi Tang heard this, she thought for a moment: “How about hot pot?”

Zhao Pingjin observed her expression; the person beside him had been hungry for who knows how many days, her face showing almost a hint of excitement. He pretended to be magnanimous and nodded.

She was indeed very happy, delighted enough to hop on the spot.

The two went to the supermarket to buy groceries.

When Zhao Pingjin’s car was leaving the P1 garage, the security guard specifically greeted him: “Mr. Zhao, going out?”

The card reader beeped, and Zhao Pingjin lowered his car window, politely nodding.

They browsed the supermarket for quite a while. During this time, Zhao Pingjin received a call from Old Gao inviting him to dinner, which Zhao Pingjin declined.

The two returned home carrying two large bags. The moment they opened the door, the lights suddenly brightened, accompanied by men and women whistling and shouting: “Surprise!”

The living room lights were suddenly bright, and the room was full of people.

The most striking scene was a wrapped gift placed right at the door—a girl wearing a pink spaghetti-strap dress with a youthful, delicate face and rabbit ears on her head. As soon as Zhao Pingjin opened the door, she immediately pressed herself against his chest, shyly saying: “Happy birthday, Mr. Zhao.”

Her entire body leaned forward, revealing a large expanse of snow-white chest, with a huge bow tied invitingly across her breasts.

Zhao Pingjin first turned to look at Huang Xi Tang behind him.

Huang Xi Tang stood behind him. When the door was suddenly opened from inside, she was a bit frightened and grabbed the sleeve of his coat with her right hand.

Zhao Pingjin looked back at her, and she suddenly realized what she was doing, carefully letting go.

Zhao Pingjin raised his eyes to look at the mass of white flesh and red flowers but stood still without moving or speaking.

Xi Tang felt a bit lost, standing stiffly outside the door.

The atmosphere immediately dropped from hot to ice cold from the moment the door opened.

Everyone looked at each other, not knowing what to do. The next second, Gao Jiyi came out and waved his hand dejectedly: “Out, out.”

The girl opened her innocent eyes wide.

Shen Min was the calmest among the noisy crowd. He took the initiative to open the door: “Miss, I’ll escort you downstairs.”

Xi Tang quietly stepped back.

Zhao Pingjin grabbed her hand, only then realizing she was afraid—her palm was sweaty, like a startled bird.

Zhao Pingjin lowered his voice and said: “Don’t embarrass me.”

Huang Xi Tang looked up at him. Her eyelashes trembled slightly, her eyes full of fear and anxiety.

Zhao Pingjin felt a pang in his heart. Turning his head to see the roomful of people watching the drama, his face instantly darkened, and he simply decided to tell everyone to leave.

Fang Langji, seeing he was about to lose his temper, watched as his wife Ouyang Qingqing quickly stepped to the door, tightly holding Xi Tang’s arm and pulling her into the house: “That’s why I say these men are just boring. Xi Tang, don’t mind their silly games.”

Fang Langji stood in the living room, giving her a gentle smile: “Xi Tang, long time no see.”

Xi Tang softly said: “Hi.”

Lu Xiaojiang stood to the side, staring at her intently. Xi Tang’s gaze swept past him, suddenly seeing him in the crowd. Their eyes met for a second before Xi Tang quickly looked away. Lu Xiaojiang’s face was rigid with shock, his lips moved but he held back whatever he wanted to say.

Zhao Pingjin walked in slowly. There were still some people in the room she didn’t know, unaware of the situation and creating noise and commotion, which somewhat alleviated the awkwardness.

“So this is the official girlfriend. Wow, she’s beautiful.” “A tactical error, a tactical error.” “Zhouzi, you’ve been hiding such a beautiful girlfriend!” “She looks familiar. Seen here on TV perhaps?”

Zhao Pingjin’s birthday was usually celebrated this way over the years—a day early with friends. Xi Tang had been his girlfriend for three years, but she was only qualified to accompany him to this gathering with friends. His actual birthday would be reserved for family; his maternal grandparents would come from Shanghai, or sometimes he would go back to Shanghai to celebrate.

After Xi Tang returned to Beijing for work, she actually saw him rarely. Sometimes he would call her to come over every week or so, sometimes they wouldn’t meet for a whole month. He was busy with work and social engagements, and had to reserve time for both families’ elders. On casual days, he hung out with childhood friends, and perhaps had other female companions as well. She was just a maraschino cherry on his colorful cake.

Used when needed to decorate the facade, and when not needed, simply discarded.