Zhao Pingjin walked in and said: “Hand it over.”

Gao Jiyi quickly shook his head: “What?”

Zhao Pingjin said coldly: “The door card.”

Gao Jiyi grinned: “Return it to Teacher Zhou for me, will you?”

Fang Langji walked over and patted his shoulder: “We’ve already reserved seats. Let’s go out for dinner.”

Zhao Pingjin hesitated, standing motionless.

Fang Langji said in a low voice: “Qingqing will take care of her.”

Zhao Pingjin thought for a moment, looked around at the roomful of people, and finally nodded.

The group split into several cars and headed out for dinner in grand fashion.

Zhao Pingjin walked at the back, with Xi Tang beside him, whispering: “Am I disturbing your gathering? Maybe I shouldn’t go—”

Zhao Pingjin pressed the car key, and the car beeped as the lights flashed: “Stay put.”

Xi Tang sat in the passenger seat, her body straight, hands folded tightly together on her knees.

Zhao Pingjin turned to look at her and smiled mockingly: “If I’m not afraid, what are you afraid of?”

Her soul seemed to have left her body; she hadn’t heard a word he said.

Zhao Pingjin frowned: “Hey, Huang Xi Tang.”

Xi Tang turned her head: “Ah, what did you say?”

Zhao Pingjin looked at her, the mockery at the corner of his mouth vanishing, replaced by subtle curiosity: “It’s just dinner. Why are you so nervous?”

Xi Tang shook her head firmly: “It’s nothing.”

At the private room in the restaurant, Shen Min came over to arrange the seating, deliberately placing her next to Ouyang Qingqing.

Zhao Pingjin didn’t introduce Huang Xi Tang. In their circle, everyone knew about the countless girlfriends who came and went, replaced by new faces every few days—names no one could remember. The formal marriage partners were typically well-known figures in Beijing, a fact everyone tacitly understood.

Zhao Pingjin sat in the main seat. After glancing at the tableware, he directly instructed the waiter: “Bring a spoon, silver, long-handled, a small one.”

The waiter acknowledged and left.

Qingqing sat beside Xi Tang, constantly smiling and initiating conversation: “How long have you been in Beijing?”

Xi Tang spoke softly: “A little over two months.”

Qingqing joked with a smile: “No wonder Zhouzhou hasn’t been going out lately, rushing home every day after work.”

Xi Tang was a bit embarrassed: “I’m usually on set anyway.”

Qingqing asked with concern: “These past few years, have you been filming all the time?”

Xi Tang nodded: “Yes, in Hengdian.”

Qingqing and Xi Tang were from the same university class. She had studied at the Central Academy of Fine Arts and after graduation, worked in the cultural department as an artifact restorer at the Palace Museum. Xi Tang had a good relationship with the couple. After her breakup with Zhao Pingjin, Ouyang Qingqing still invited her to their wedding.

Fang Langji had once saved her life. At that time, Xi Tang was just recovering from a serious illness, but she still attended. Zhao Pingjin hadn’t come to that wedding banquet; Qingqing had told her in advance that he was abroad.

Fang Langji and Qingqing’s wedding was grand and magnificent. In the winter season, white roses airlifted from Europe covered the entire venue. Xi Tang sat among the smiling guests, looking up to see clusters of vibrantly blooming roses that seemed to be burning, gradually turning into black ashes like oil in a raging fire. She had lain in the hospital for over half a month, secretly hoping every day to hear even the slightest news of Zhao Pingjin, even if it was just a greeting sent through someone else. Ouyang Qingqing had visited her but never mentioned him. Shen Min had come to the hospital to pay for her treatment but had never entered her room. Later, when she was discharged and went home to recuperate in the apartment they had shared in Jiayuan, he must have returned at some point to collect his documents, materials, and laptop, but left all his other personal belongings—expensive suits, coats, shirts, shoes, razor, watch, toothbrush—everything had been completely abandoned.

She finally understood that he had thoroughly given up on her.

In Xi Tang’s later life, that night remained a forbidden memory.

But she always felt that even though fate had lured her into an endless dark forest, she would forever be grateful to those who had once lit a light for her.

Halfway through the meal.

Xi Tang got up to go to the restroom.

She deliberately lingered longer. In that magnificent private room, she knew that each person inside was either wealthy or powerful; any one of them could be a prominent figure in Beijing. The topics they discussed seemed casual and boundless but exchanged countless variations of information that could directly impact vital policies or occasionally touch on international matters or global entertainment. Xi Tang didn’t belong to that world and felt suffocated. She washed her hands thoroughly, touched up her makeup, and then slowly walked out.

Someone was standing at the restroom door.

Lu Xiaojiang still looked the same—a refined, fair face wearing white gold half-frame glasses. It seemed he was specifically waiting for her.

Xi Tang could only smile.

Lu Xiaojiang looked at her, his tone concerned: “Xi Tang, have you been well these years?”

Xi Tang replied politely: “Very well.”

Lu Xiaojiang said: “After you were injured, I later… called that Miss Ni. She said you had gone back to your hometown and told me never to look for you again.”

Xi Tang smiled. That was indeed Ni Kailun’s style: “Yes, I stayed at home for a few years.”

“You…” His eyes revealed complex emotions, hesitant to speak.

Xi Tang thought for a moment and said: “I heard you’re getting married. Congratulations.”

Lu Xiaojiang came back to his senses: “Ah, yes, thank you.”

“Xi Tang, you…” Lu Xiaojiang stammered for a while, then suddenly shook his head vigorously before saying: “If you need any help in Beijing, please tell me.”

Xi Tang smiled: “Thank you.”

Lu Xiaojiang seemed urgent: “I’m not just being polite—”

He took out a business card from his pocket and pressed it into Xi Tang’s hand: “I know you might not need it, but remember, if anything happens, I definitely, very much want to help you.”

Xi Tang didn’t quite understand him. If he and Zhao Pingjin were still friends, he should have distanced himself from her long ago. Why would he actively approach her?

“Huang Xi Tang.” A deep, magnetic voice with subtle displeasure.

They both turned around.

Zhao Pingjin stood at the end of the corridor, watching them interact, his handsome, clear face covered with frost: “Come back to eat.”

Xi Tang turned to leave.

Lu Xiaojiang lowered his voice and said: “You need to protect yourself.”

Xi Tang returned to the private room. The meal was mostly finished, and several bottles of Maotai had been opened. Zhao Pingjin had a weak stomach, and normally no one dared to pressure him to drink at gatherings. If anyone uninformed tried, Shen Min would intervene early. The people at the table were all tipsy and animated, but he remained cool and composed.

Gao Jiyi and Zhao Pingjin were smoking cigars to the side when Qingqing waved to her. Xi Tang returned to her seat.

“Miss Huang—”

Someone called her from across the table.

Xi Tang looked up, maintaining her smile.

It was a young man in a white suit who called her. Earlier, she had vaguely heard them mention he was the son of someone from the Municipal Committee. He stared at Xi Tang with a grin: “Miss Huang, didn’t you recently act in that martial arts drama that’s broadcasting on TV? You played that little nun?”

“Sword Break” was currently airing on Star TV. She hadn’t expected to meet someone who recognized her. Xi Tang could only nod.

Qingqing leaned over with a smile: “Oh? Little Gu, you’ve watched Xi Tang’s show?”

Young Master Gu enthusiastically said: “My nephew loves that TV series. Next Saturday is the little guy’s birthday. Could you come over, wear the costume, and perform something to entertain everyone?”

The smile on Qingqing’s face instantly faltered.

Lu Xiaojiang became anxious on the side: “Hey, Gu Xianlin, Xi Tang is our friend.”

Young Master Gu glanced at Lu Xiaojiang’s expression. Although Lu Xiaojiang had grown up in the same compound as Zhao Pingjin and the others, his father had never held much real power. Years ago, there had been an incident, and though the man had kept his position, he had been transferred to Hebei and had not returned to Beijing since. Therefore, in this circle, his words generally didn’t carry much weight. But early this year, he had suddenly become engaged to the Qian family, which meant that the extremely influential Qian family’s background now had to be reconsidered. Gu Xianlin smiled politely at Lu Xiaojiang: “Xiaojiang since we’re all friends, how much does Miss Huang want? Just name a price directly.”

Lu Xiaojiang immediately stood up and shouted at him: “Can’t you show some respect?”

The private room instantly fell silent, with everyone turning to look.

“She won’t go.” A deep, authoritative voice rang out clearly.

The situation was immediately controlled.

Zhao Pingjin had somehow come to stand behind her, his hand resting on her chair: “Don’t ask her about work matters. Contact her agent.”

The gazes of everyone present moved between these few people—curious, probing, disdainful.

Young Master Gu muttered irritably: “Hey, hey, hey, brothers, she’s just a small-time actress. I’m doing her a favor. Why are you all making such a big deal? She’s not even a lead…”

Zhao Pingjin’s face darkened: “Gu Xianlin.”

The voice immediately stopped.

Gao Jiyi patted his shoulder, his face bearing a gloating smile, and consoled him: “Xianlin, this one is off-limits.”