Mrs. Yu’s family lived in an old Western-style house in Tongfu Lane.

The house had originally been the property of a White Russian aristocrat living in seclusion in Shanghai. When he first arrived in Shanghai, the White Russian had ample means, and was fastidious about everything—food, clothing, housing, transportation. Just decorating this house alone, it was said, had cost an extravagant sum.

Who would have guessed that before long the White Russian became addicted to opium, and gradually, living off his savings without earning more, began pawning off his family property. Soon he could borrow from no one, and even the Western house was mortgaged away to someone else.

More than ten years had passed, and the house was no longer as splendid as it once was. Three floors, five bays wide altogether—it was now rented out separately to four households.

Take Mrs. Yu’s family as an example: below them was a tailor shop, home to a couple surnamed Peng. This family opened for business during the day and disciplined their children at night, clanging and banging from morning to evening without rest.

Mrs. Yu’s family lived on the second floor.

The third floor was divided into two halves. On one side lived a middle-aged man surnamed Xiang, his hair parted in the middle, round lenses perched on the bridge of his nose, his pale face perpetually melancholy. Mrs. Yu knew this Mr. Xiang was extremely learned—otherwise he couldn’t have held a teaching position at a university—but she had no idea why, nearing forty, he still hadn’t married.

As for the other side…

Thinking of that woman’s powdered, coquettish appearance, a trace of disdain rose at the corner of Mrs. Yu’s mouth. She set down the needlework in her hands and glanced at the Western clock on the table.

Six o’clock. That was late enough.

Anxiety stirring in her, she called toward the closed door of the inner room: “Hongdou, stop burying yourself in your studies—go downstairs and see why your brother still isn’t back.”

She called twice in a row, but there was no movement from behind the door. Mrs. Yu sighed and got up, resigned.

She pushed the door open to look, and there was her daughter, half-reclined against the headboard reading a newspaper. Perhaps because of the heat, she wore only a jade-colored jacket and trousers, her snow-white arms bare, her thick black hair pinned up on one side with a cherry-red celluloid hair clip, hanging in a dark cascade over one side of her chest.

Seeing her mother enter, the daughter showed not the slightest intention of getting up, still gazing at the newspaper in her hands, her voice languid: “Mom.”

“What are your ears for? I told you to go check on your brother, and you didn’t answer for the longest time.” Mrs. Yu walked closer and, without waiting for a response, snatched the newspaper away. Seeing it was a tabloid specializing in sensational gossip, her irritation deepened. “Here I thought you were studying hard, and you’re reading this kind of trash instead. This stuff is filthy—what good does it do for your schoolwork?”

Before she finished speaking, she noticed the headline, glaring up at her: “Miss Chen Baidie, Leading Star of Tianyi Film Company, Mysteriously Vanishes in Recent Days, Suspected Kidnapped by Bandits, News Spreads Like Wildfire, Shanghai Abuzz—”

Mrs. Yu froze.

Times had been unsettled lately, with kidnapping cases occurring frequently. When the neighborhood wives gathered to play mahjong, they’d occasionally discuss such things, guessing it was the work of chaibai dang—swindler gangs. Most of the victims, it was said, were ordinary common folk, or else small business owners; the extorted sums ranged from a few thousand to as much as ten thousand. Everyone, wanting only peace, paid up and let the matter end there. Who would have thought these people had grown so bold as to even kidnap someone as famous as Chen Baidie?

Looking more closely, she saw a small photo attached beside the text. Though she didn’t often watch films, she recognized a few of the famous stars. The photo, reproduced in ink print, was somewhat mottled, but from the rich, voluptuous bearing of the woman in the picture, it was indeed that great star, Miss Chen, without doubt.

Her daughter shook her head with a sigh. “Just last week I went with a classmate to see Miss Chen’s new film. Everyone thought this Chen Baidie had good looks and fine acting skill, bound for a great future—who’d have thought that just a few days later, such big news would break.”

Mrs. Yu’s ears perked up. She immediately cast Chen Baidie from her mind and settled herself on the edge of the bed. “I had no idea you went to see a film with a classmate. Was it a male classmate or a female classmate?”

Yu Hongdou smiled faintly. “A male classmate.”

Having said this, she pushed the newspaper aside and tried to get up, but Mrs. Yu caught hold of her: “Be serious with me!”

Yu Hongdou spread her hands. “If I say it was a female classmate you won’t believe me either—you’re just forcing me to lie.”

Mrs. Yu softened. “Mama knows you’re a sensible, good child, but the atmosphere outside these days is too corrupt, everywhere promoting this so-called ‘free love.’ If young people only act on their feelings for now, they’ll surely regret it later. When you’re out and about, if you meet those glib-tongued male classmates, be careful not to be fooled by them. Besides, you’ve always had ambition—it wasn’t easy getting into such a fine school, so your studies should come first.”

Yu Hongdou, growing impatient, had originally intended to joke a bit more, but seeing her mother’s expression turn wistful, she knew the old woman was thinking of her aunt who had died young. Touched, she reined in her playful tone: “Mom, don’t worry, your daughter understands. Last time it was Gu Yun I went to the film with. Usually when I go out to have fun, it’s with these same few close girl friends.”

These words left Mrs. Yu momentarily stunned.

She had no idea who her daughter’s cunning, indolent temperament took after—sometimes utterly muddle-headed, sometimes remarkably sensible. Usually when scolding this child, two out of every three replies were mere deflections. It was rare for her to answer so earnestly, and it left Mrs. Yu, on the contrary, at a loss for what to say next.

After a moment, she sighed softly and drew her daughter close.

Outside the window, the setting sun glowed like gold. In its faint golden afterglow, she carefully smoothed the wrinkles from her daughter’s clothes. “Your brother works at the police station now, it’s not Mama’s place to discipline him anymore. There’s only you left, only nineteen years old, and a girl besides—if Mama doesn’t worry about you, who else should she worry about? I know it’s just tiresome nagging to you.”

Yu Hongdou raised both arms to circle her mother’s neck, leaning back with a smile, studying her mother’s face earnestly. After a moment, she feigned surprise: “Oh Mom, you should worry less. Look, the lines at the corners of your eyes have gotten deeper—at this rate, even Three Flowers Brand Snow Cream won’t help anymore.”

Mrs. Yu was indeed distracted by this remark. She hastily pushed her daughter away and peered carefully into the small mirror on the table, saying, “Nonsense—”

Yu Hongdou, suppressing laughter, ambled to the door. “Mom, take your time looking. I’m going downstairs to check on Brother and Sister-in-law Zhou. Sister-in-law Zhou has been out shopping for groceries for a whole hour and still isn’t back. As for Brother, with these swindler gangs causing trouble everywhere these days, he probably doesn’t even have time to catch them all—it’s no wonder he’s coming home late.”

Mrs. Yu called after her through the doorway, “It’s getting dark soon. Just look toward the front of the lane and come right back, don’t dawdle too long.”

Yu Hongdou agreed. Just as she reached the living room, she happened to run into Sister-in-law Zhou coming in, looking like she’d had quite a haul—yellow chives in her left hand, scallions in her right, a small bag of flour tucked under her arm.

“Oh, Sister-in-law Zhou, you’re back.”

Sister-in-law Zhou quickly blocked Yu Hongdou’s path, lowering her voice: “Miss, are you going out?”

“To meet my brother, and buy some roasted sweet potatoes for dinner while I’m at it.” Yu Hongdou rested her hand on the doorknob. “What’s wrong, Sister-in-law Zhou?”

There was a glint of excitement in Sister-in-law Zhou’s eyes. “You mustn’t, Miss, there’s someone outside—it’s not a good time to go out.”

Yu Hongdou grew quite curious, lowering her voice to match. “What kind of someone?”

Sister-in-law Zhou set her armload of things on the table and pointed upstairs. “Who else—that woman on the third floor.”

By this time Mrs. Yu had already come out at the sound of the commotion. Hearing Sister-in-law Zhou’s words, her face darkened.

The Miss Qiu on the third floor was a famous dancing hostess at the Bailemen ballroom. Though a social butterfly, she had always kept to the rules, never coming and going ostentatiously, and never bringing disreputable men back to the house. Because of this, the neighbors had turned a blind eye, and things had remained peaceful between them.

But judging from Sister-in-law Zhou’s tone just now, could this Miss Qiu have actually brought a man home? If that were really the case, then for Hongdou’s sake, this house could not be rented any longer, no matter what.

Sister-in-law Zhou said mysteriously, “Just now when I was coming back, I ran into a young man downstairs, wearing a white shirt, refined-looking, and my, was he handsome—I don’t know why, but he was asking after that Miss Qiu on the third floor. I happened to be passing by, so I showed him the way. The more I looked at him, the more familiar he seemed, and then it came to me—isn’t he that yarn-industry tycoon’s son? Surnamed He, I think.”

“Yarn-industry tycoon?”

“That yarn tycoon He Mengmei’s second son! I saw it in the newspaper the eldest young master brought home once—said this one studied engineering in Germany and came back, learned and handsome in every way, who knows why he’d get himself tangled up in that—”

Mrs. Yu coughed sharply, her voice cold and hard: “Sister-in-law Zhou, the beef is stewing on the stove, it should be about done. Go check whether the fire needs turning off, and wash some greens while you’re at it.”

Sister-in-law Zhou promptly clamped her mouth shut and went off to the kitchen.

Yu Hongdou had also heard of that piece of news. Out of curiosity, even though she could clearly feel two burning glances from her mother at her back, she quietly opened the door and looked outside.

There, in the stairwell leading from the second floor to the third, stood two figures. In the hazy dusk, she couldn’t make out the man’s features clearly, only sensed that his build was tall and elegant. Occasionally a phrase or two carried over, his voice low and cool, sounding very young.

After exchanging a few words, Miss Qiu swayed her slender waist and went gracefully up the steps, switching on the corridor light at once. But just at that moment, the man lowered his head to light a cigarette, still not letting Yu Hongdou see his face straight on.

Her interest suddenly waned. Under her mother’s watchful eye, she retreated back into the inner room, stretching as she walked and saying, “Ah, tomorrow I’m back at school for classes—I should go review my lessons.”

Back in her bedroom, she leaned against the Western-style stained glass window, idly looking down—her original intent was to watch for her brother, but instead she spotted a bicycle. It was parked in front of Tailor Peng’s shop on the ground floor, about fifty or sixty percent new, and lit by the orange glow spilling from the shop, the whole frame gleamed with a dull, muted metallic sheen.

She thought it over—there were no other new guests in the building, so this half-new bicycle could only belong to that Mr. He.

She was genuinely astonished. These days, the prevailing fashion was ostentation—everyone wanted to wear the word “wealthy” on their forehead. Those with a bit of money, like compradors or film stars, went everywhere by car at the slightest excuse. A rich man traveling this lightly and simply was truly a rare sight.

She tilted her head, thinking it over for a while. Seeing her brother still hadn’t returned, she bent down and dragged a cardboard box out from under the bed, digging out a news clipping from several months back.

Author’s Note: Hehe, updates will generally be around ten o’clock each night; if there are changes, I’ll give notice in advance on Weibo and in the author’s notes.

Today is Laba Festival, and Hongdou has arrived.

Wishing everyone a happy holiday.