As the two turned around, they saw a figure.

Since their brief meeting in Hengdian two months ago, Zhao Ping Jin was now standing in the middle of the walkway opposite the jewelry counter, with several subordinates beside him. It was unclear how long he had been standing there watching.

They had just barely made eye contact.

Ni Kai Lun, whose social skills were normally superb, especially when meeting sponsors and investors—with impeccable warmth, propriety, and courtesy—at that moment immediately froze her smile and bristled, staring at him like a fighting rooster.

Zhao Ping Jin naturally wouldn’t greet them first, his face cold as he looked at them.

Shen Min, following behind him, also stopped, looking in their direction with slight confusion.

The two women across from them looked like ordinary female shoppers in the mall. One wore a smart business suit with branded accessories—women like her were common in such a mall. The other, younger one wore only a thin sweater and had a memorably exquisite face, though her beautiful countenance clearly showed faint traces of weariness. Looking closely—they weren’t acquaintances, and there was nothing particularly remarkable about them.

Yet his boss stood before them as if he’d lost his soul, staring blankly for quite a while.

The counter manager immediately approached respectfully: “Mr. Zhao, how may I help you?”

Zhao Ping Jin maintained his cold expression and said nothing.

Shen Min had to step in and dismiss the manager: “It’s nothing.”

In that moment, Zhao Ping Jin suddenly came to his senses, still not speaking, his entire body radiating anger. With one stride, he turned and walked away with large steps.

Shen Min had to follow, but at the moment of turning, he glanced back once more. As the girl’s profile lowered in that instant, he suddenly had a flash of realization, and words escaped before his rational mind could stop them: “Xi Tang? Is that you?!”

Xi Tang hesitated for a moment, then gave him a gentle nod.

Ni Kai Lun immediately grabbed her, as if escaping from a ferocious beast: “Let’s go!”

Xi Tang was dragged away by her, hearing the subordinate quietly calling behind them: “Mr. Zhao, please come this way—”

Ni Kai Lun cursed under her breath: “Like a lingering ghost.”

Xi Tang knew she was being protective but didn’t want Ni Kai Lun to offend him. How deep Zhao Ping Jin’s background truly was, even an old hand like Ni Kai Lun might not fully comprehend. Back then, it wasn’t until much later, when his mother was forced to reveal things to her, that she slowly pieced together a bit of the picture. Not to mention his grandfather’s and father’s and uncle’s backgrounds, just his mother’s family, the Zhou family, had been industrial tycoons in Shanghai since before the Liberation. How deep the Zhou family’s roots ran in Shanghai was completely unfathomable to those outside that social stratum. The Zhou family had no direct male heir, and Zhao Ping Jin was the Zhou family’s only grandson through the female line.

Xi Tang sat on the soft sofa outside the fitting room, clutching Ni Kai Lun’s coat tightly, feeling as if a heavy stone was pressing on her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Fortunately, the sales lady pushed in a rack of elegant clothes, and Ni Kai Lun exclaimed with delight, quickly forgetting the incident.

After leaving the mall, Ni Kai Lun returned to the company, and Xi Tang had two days off. She said: “I’ll walk around by myself for a while.”

Xi Tang walked out of the luxurious mall’s main entrance, the warmth dissipating from her body as a chill crept in. She looked up at the sky—a dim blue.

She didn’t often return to Shanghai. The company headquarters was in Shanghai, with monthly meetings. Everyone else was eager to come back to enjoy the bright lights and good life, but she alone was reluctant to move, usually assigned to stay in the Hengdian production center to monitor filming progress when work was underway.

Seeing that it was still early, Xi Tang decided to get a coffee first.

Walking to the intersection by the sidewalk, a black sedan drove up and stopped beside her, then moved a few steps forward to block the intersection.

The window rolled down, and Zhao Ping Jin sat in the back seat: “Get in.”

The driver had already respectfully opened the door.

Xi Tang smiled: “No, thank you.”

She walked away.

“Huang Xi Tang.”

Xi Tang turned back to see that Zhao Ping Jin had already gotten out of the car and opened the door himself, saying impatiently: “Get in.”

Xi Tang stood in place, and the two remained at an impasse for a while. Cars were beginning to back up behind them, and taxi drivers angrily honked their horns.

Xi Tang had no choice but to get in.

As the door closed, his scent filled the car. Xi Tang knew he didn’t use cologne; it was probably his usual aftershave, a somewhat melancholic fragrance lingering, quiet, and cool.

“Where to?” Zhao Ping Jin sat with his legs crossed, long legs in well-tailored black trousers, revealing perfectly pressed creases.

“The nearby subway entrance,” Xi Tang answered.

Zhao Ping Jin glanced at her. The weather was turning warmer; she wore a pair of coarse cloth pants and a gray sweater, with slender wrists and hands folded on her knees.

Finally being close enough, he examined her right hand closely—her fingers slightly curled, hanging powerlessly.

Zhao Ping Jin repeated: “Where are you going? I’ll take you there.”

Xi Tang spoke softly: “The nearby subway entrance.”

Zhao Ping Jin raised an eyebrow, not angry. She still had that stubborn temperament, clashing with him head-on could only lead to disaster.

The driver took them directly back to the hotel.

A doorman in a snow-white uniform rushed forward to open the door: “Good afternoon, Mr. Zhao.”

Zhao Ping Jin didn’t even look, just nodded proudly and walked in with a dignified stride. Xi Tang kept her head down, silently following behind him. She knew resistance was futile; he had ways to make her submit. She had learned early on that people like him would stop at nothing and could get anyone they wanted.

Girls like her, if entangled with such people, were like insects in someone else’s palm—life or death hanging on a simple squeeze.

The best outcome was for him to grow tired and kick her away, never to think of her again.

After so many years had passed, Xi Tang thought he would never want to see her again.

She followed him into the elevator. Zhao Ping Jin pressed a floor button, and the elevator ascended in silence.

Xi Tang secretly glanced at the man in the metal mirror—a tall figure, wearing a white shirt and a camel-colored suede jacket, loosely wrapped in a matching checkered scarf. Such a handsome man, precious as gold and jade, with hands stained in blood.

As soon as the door to the hotel’s top-floor suite opened, Zhao Ping Jin went directly to the study to take a phone call. Xi Tang sat motionless on the magnificent living room sofa for a full hour.

After finishing his business, Zhao Ping Jin leaned against the doorframe and asked lightly: “Join me for dinner?”

Xi Tang shook her head.

Zhao Ping Jin snorted: “Refusing so quickly? Does your boss know?”

Xi Tang dared not speak. The company had thirty million in funding waiting for his investment for the next drama.

Zhao Ping Jin sat down on the sofa, pressing his brow, looking somewhat tired.

Xi Tang sat across from him, glancing at him once, her face calm and unreadable, impossible to discern whether she felt anything at all.

“Move that vase to the balcony,” Zhao Ping Jin took a cigarette from the coffee table.

“What?”

“Move it, and I’ll let you go.”

Xi Tang found it a bit ridiculous: “What are you doing?”

Zhao Ping Jin heavily tapped the ashtray in his hand: “That’s my business.”

Xi Tang knew he was a man of his word, so she simply stood up, walked to the entryway, and effortlessly lifted the large yellow floor vase with her left hand. It was merely a decorative piece, not very heavy. She held the vase in her arms, supporting it with her right hand, then placed it on the windowsill, blocking that open view.

All the curtains in the presidential suite were drawn tightly, completely hiding the Huangpu River view that was this five-star hotel’s pride. That small gap was perhaps an oversight by the room service staff, revealing a small patch of sky and the abyss-like buildings below.

Xi Tang stood by the window, raising an eyebrow at Zhao Ping Jin.

Zhao Ping Jin held a silver lighter in his hand, silently watching her without a word, then said: “You can go now.”

Late at night, the lights illuminated a room of splendor.

In the top-floor suite of the hotel, the vase still stood by the window, but the curtains had been drawn tightly again as if they had never been opened.

Zhao Ping Jin leaned against the spiral staircase and called downstairs: “Shen Min, come up.”

Shen Min was handling documents in the study and didn’t hear clearly, only responding: “What?”

Zhao Ping Jin felt dizzy and couldn’t help raising his voice: “Come up!”

Shen Min finished what he was doing and went upstairs to find him sitting alone on the sofa.

Zhao Ping Jin’s face was neither lit nor in shadow. Shen Min walked over and took a cigarette from the coffee table in front of him.

Shen Min leaned back on the sofa, relaxing his body, comfortably smoking a cigarette.

He glanced across.

Zhao Ping Jin still sat on the sofa, not saying a word.

Shen Min checked his watch—it was nearly midnight. He started to stand up: “You should rest early.”

At that moment, Zhao Ping Jin suddenly spoke, his voice so steady it barely showed a ripple: “Huang Xi Tang’s right hand is ruined.”

Shen Min abruptly stopped.

This longtime confidant and assistant took a deep breath, then carefully glanced at him, subtly probing his intentions: “Do you want to find a doctor to examine her?”

Zhao Ping Jin didn’t answer, only continued speaking, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smile that somehow looked strangely vicious: “She was so strong back then, almost beat you to a pulp. I guess I’ve avenged you now.”

Thinking of this, Shen Min smiled embarrassedly and naturally said: “Tang Tang was—”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Zhao Ping Jin’s hand trembled slightly.

Shen Min immediately corrected himself: “Miss Huang is warm-hearted and righteous.”

That was when they first met. Zhao Ping Jin hadn’t noticed what was happening in the private room while he was at the card table, but Shen Min had seen everything. His boss was playing with a group of young men from Beijing’s elite families. Someone had called in female students from the Film Academy. Things got out of hand in the end—they swept away bottles and made the girls bend over the tea table, slapping each other’s faces. Whoever slapped harder would get the red bills placed under the wine glasses.

At that time, Huang Xi Tang was running around with Zhong Qiao, covering for each other, slapping each other until they howled in pain, exciting the onlookers who joined in the howling. The two had won several rounds of money and stepped back. Later, two other girls took their place, obviously less experienced and not acting convincingly enough, which annoyed the Sun family’s crown prince. He cursed and stood up to demonstrate, directly slapping one girl. There was a sharp scream, and blood sprayed from the girl’s nose.

Originally, Huang Xi Tang and Zhong Qiao were sitting on the floor, winking at each other and secretly laughing—it had nothing to do with them. But when that slap came down, Huang Xi Tang turned to look, suddenly stood up, and glared, pounding the table: “That’s too much bullying!”

Zhong Qiao tried desperately to pull her back, but couldn’t hold her. Huang Xi Tang put one foot on the sofa, standing astride like a warrior crossing a river, and pointed at their noses fiercely: “You men, don’t bully people! If you’ve got guts, call a man out to fight me. Whoever calls for help is a grandson!”

At that time, the room was full of young men from prominent families, alcohol fueling their heads, all applauding and cheering. Shen Min had the bad luck of sitting on the sofa. As a mere assistant, he had to face the brunt of the attack first.

What he didn’t know then was that when Huang Xi Tang drank, she became a madwoman. With tremendous strength, she pinned him to the ground, straddled his back, and started beating him. As a scholarly, frail person, he was almost beaten beyond recognition.

She couldn’t handle alcohol. Later, just one mistaken drink led to a great disaster.

Zhao Ping Jin looked at him and suddenly said: “Xiao Min, tell me, why didn’t I just kill her back then?”

Shen Min felt cold sweat streaming down his back.

He advised quietly: “She’s been punished enough. Let it go. It wasn’t easy for her either.”

Zhao Ping Jin wasn’t surprised that Shen Min spoke up for her. When they were dating, Huang Xi Tang had a truly wonderful personality and got along well with everyone around him.

Zhao Ping Jin leaned back on the sofa, speaking with weary indifference: “Yes, she was so good to everyone else, yet only to me was she so cruel.”

Hearing these words, Shen Min thought for a few seconds, then moved away and returned to the sofa.

After so many years, he didn’t know how Zhao Ping Jin had found Huang Xi Tang, but from that moment in the mall today, when his boss saw her, from that look in his eyes, he knew that everything was over.