It was nearly eleven at night when Nie Jiuluo, having finished washing up and blow-drying her hair halfway, face-planted onto her bed with force. The mattress bounced several times from the impact.
With her face half-buried in the pillow and a strand of damp hair between her lips, Nie Jiuluo was too exhausted to move. These past few days had been incredibly tiring – completing the drawings, and assembling the dragon bones one by one, her carpentry life of hammering and knocking had started again. It was all physical labor, and after a day’s work, she felt more exhausted than if she’d been beaten up.
At times like this, she should grab Yan Tuo, bite him, scratch him, pinch him, vent her frustrations, release some tension, and make a fuss. Unfortunately, he wasn’t here – he’d gone off to handle business.
But counting the days, he’d be back in a few more.
After lying there for a while, Nie Jiuluo reached for her phone to check the time.
Eleven o’clock – Yan Tuo should be calling soon.
This was the rule she’d set for Yan Tuo. She believed that even when separated, they should synchronize their bedtime to eleven o’clock sharp. By then, all matters would be settled, bodies tired, minds at ease. They could video call or chat, talk about whatever came to mind as sleepiness gradually took over, soft words in their ears as they drifted off to sleep.
It didn’t interfere with work or sleep, yet allowed them to maintain their romance and closeness – perfect, really.
After these few days of “experimenting,” Nie Jiuluo was addicted to it. Nothing was more satisfying than being half-awake, half-asleep, listening to Yan Tuo rambling about a light rain at dusk, or a girl he glimpsed by the roadside cosplaying as a Tang Dynasty lady while controlling a drone. It made even the coldest nights feel intimate as if her lover was right beside her.
…
It was now 11:05, and Yan Tuo hadn’t called yet.
Nie Jiuluo felt annoyed, her index finger repeatedly tapping Yan Tuo’s profile picture on her phone screen.
Very well, he dared to be late.
Today he dared to be late, tomorrow he might stand her up entirely, and the day after that he might go to a sauna with some other girl. She was getting angry.
Finally, the phone rang.
Nie Jiuluo answered, ready to solemnly inform Yan Tuo that these five minutes had caused her immense emotional damage, but his first sentence made her forget everything she had planned to say.
“Aluo, do you remember Xu Annie?”
Xu Annie? The name sounded familiar.
Nie Jiuluo thought for a while before remembering.
Right, Xu Annie was a blood vessel, matched with a taxi driver named Wu Xingbang.
She asked, “What about Xu Annie?”
Yan Tuo sighed and said, “It’s not good.”
…
Yan Tuo was already on his way back, and as usual, he’d visited major business partners along the way – while specific company matters were handled by designated personnel, these high-level relationships needed personal maintenance.
When he reached Anyang, he suddenly thought of Xu Annie and belatedly realized that Wu Xingbang’s disappearance must have been a tremendous misfortune for her.
They all knew Wu Xingbang wasn’t a good person and had ulterior motives for staying with Xu Annie, but she didn’t know.
Not only didn’t she know, but she’d considered Wu Xingbang the only light in her life.
He wanted to know how Xu Annie was doing.
Yan Tuo said, “I went to the restaurant where Xu Annie used to work, but learned she hadn’t worked there for a long time.”
“The Wu Xingbang operation was handled by Yu Rong. I asked her about it. She handled it very cleanly at the time. From the surveillance footage, Wu Xingbang appeared to abandon his car voluntarily and then vanished without a trace, so even if it was reported to the police, it wouldn’t draw special attention.”
He paused at this point.
Nie Jiuluo was eager to know what happened next: “Then what? How did Xu Annie react?”
Yan Tuo said, “Xu Annie was pregnant then, but she’d worked in clubs before and probably took too many drugs. Her body was weak, making it difficult to maintain the pregnancy. Add to that Wu Xingbang’s sudden disappearance, which hit her hard. Under the emotional breakdown, she lost the baby.”
Nie Jiuluo remained silent.
Her face pressed against the soft bedding, and she felt her heart grow heavy, so heavy that her whole being felt dazed.
Xu Annie’s face suddenly became incredibly clear, as if right before her eyes.
That girl in her early twenties, with her round face, big eyes, low ponytail, so plain she was almost austere.
Why did it make one feel so melancholic? Nie Jiuluo’s fingertips lightly scratched at the silk bedsheet as she continued listening to Yan Tuo.
“I found the place where Xu Annie rents. People say she’s stopped working, barely leaves her room, orders takeout once every day or two, stays inside day and night, and is now behind on rent.”
Nie Jiuluo made a sound of acknowledgment, then after a pause asked, “So what are you thinking?”
Yan Tuo pondered, “I was thinking of helping Xu Annie find work…”
Nie Jiuluo interrupted him, both helpless and amused: “Yan Tuo, when Que Cha had nowhere to go, you wanted her to join your company; when Yu Rong couldn’t find work, you wanted her to join your company; now Xu Annie is in a bad situation, and you want her to join your company too? Are you running a company or a shelter?”
Yan Tuo said, “Well… isn’t running a company about increasing the workforce and solving employment problems?”
Nie Jiuluo rolled her eyes on her end, but deep down, she felt a surge of tenderness.
She felt that Yan Tuo had a soft heart.
Time and again, he was the one who could think of and empathize with Xu Annie, unlike her, who had forgotten about it each time.
Her logic in handling matters was that everyone had their problems and should grow on their own, and when confronted with hardship, meet it head-on – if someone provoked her, she’d hit back, if not openly then sneakily.
Yan Tuo was gentler than her and more tolerant, but strangely, she was attracted to this temperament. Perhaps this was why they could ultimately be together, unlike her previous boyfriends, whom she’d found fault with until they were gone.
She said, “In my opinion, she needs a wake-up call. Better a short pain than a long one. Isn’t it absurd and ironic to consider someone like Wu Xingbang the light of her life? It’s an insult to her existence.”
Yan Tuo felt a headache coming on: “I want to, but the Night Owl situation is too complicated to explain to her.”
Besides, even if he did explain, Xu Annie might just think he was crazy and throw him out.
Nie Jiuluo said, “Let me think about it.”
In her confused state, Xu Annie was awakened by a pounding on her door.
She sat up like a wandering ghost, her swollen eyes squinting, taking a long time to process what was happening.
Who? Who was knocking? The landlord?
Hadn’t they agreed to collect rent next month? In this world, people’s words were worth nothing, changing as soon as they turned their backs.
She got out of bed lazily, stepping on a plastic takeout box – last night’s fried rice, left by the bedside.
Xu Annie walked to the door yawning but didn’t open it, just staring blankly at the door panel: maybe whoever was outside would think no one was home and leave after getting tired of waiting.
After a while, the pounding stopped, and women’s voices could be heard filtering through intermittently.
“Are you sure this is the right place?”
“Certain, this is the address A’bang gave.”
A’bang?
The name jolted through Xu Annie’s mind, making her whole body tremble. She practically flew to the door, yanking it open, her words tumbling out in disorder: “A’bang… who’s looking? It’s me, it’s me!”
Two women stood at the door.
Seeing their appearance, Xu Annie froze, unsure how to react.
How could Xingbang have friends like these?
One was tall and imposing, bald with fierce eyes, and had a lizard tattooed on her head – immediately reminding her of ruthless thugs who wouldn’t blink at killing.
The other wore bright red lipstick, had wavy hair, and eye-catching golden-pink eyeshadow, walking with distinctive flair in her stilettos – not a respectable housewife type.
She must be some sort of socialite, or perhaps a boss’s mistress.
Xu Annie stuttered: “Who… who are you?”
Yu Rong confirmed with her: “Xu Annie?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re who we’re looking for.”
Saying this, Yu Rong shoved Xu Annie aside and strode into the room. The next moment, she stepped on a round plastic takeout container with some spicy soup still inside, causing it to slosh around.
This wasn’t her fault – there was nowhere to step in the room. It was all either bagged garbage or garbage yet to be bagged, forming a sea that hid the floor.
Yu Rong remained unfazed, clearing a path with her foot, then turned back to warn Que Cha: “Watch your step.”
Que Cha made a sound of acknowledgment and sashayed in, passing by Xu Annie with a wave of decadent perfume that made her headache.
Xu Annie was completely bewildered. It wasn’t until these two had made themselves at home at her table that she hurried over: “Wait, who are you? Do you… know Xingbang?”
Yu Rong glanced at Xu Annie: “My surname is Yu. I run casinos in Thailand, deal with some drugs, and move some guns on the side. A’bang used to work for me.”
Thai… Thailand?
Xu Annie had never been to Thailand; she hadn’t even been to Mount Tai.
How did Xingbang get involved with Thailand?
Yu Rong then pointed at Que Cha: “This is my sister-in-law, A’bang’s wife. Call her Sister Cha.”
Wife?
Xu Annie suddenly became agitated: “Xingbang is my boyfriend, we’re about to get married. You must be mistaken!”
Yu Rong snorted and slapped a photo onto the table.
It was a wedding photo, clearly in Thai style. The man was Wu Xingbang, and the woman was this flamboyant Sister Cha, both wearing traditional Thai ceremonial dress, brilliantly golden and almost blindingly bright.
This was created by one of Nie Jiuluo’s industry colleagues – face-swapping and Photoshop, done with master-level skill, far beyond crude photo editing, almost indistinguishable from reality.
Xu Annie fell silent, her eyes fixed on the photo.
Que Cha cleared her throat, making a show of pulling out a tissue from her small handbag and dramatically covering her nose: “The smell in this room is something.”
Yu Rong: “I’ll get straight to the point. About four years ago, A’bang was helping me move some goods when Thai police caught up. During the escape, he killed three of them.”
Xu Annie’s mind was buzzing as if hearing nonsense.
“After that, he obviously couldn’t stay in Thailand anymore. I told him to go back to China and lay low, wait for my signal.”
“Not long after, A’bang told me he was driving a taxi here and found himself a bedmate. Men, you know, can’t stay idle.”
Que Cha let out a timely “hmph,” giving Xu Annie a contemptuous look from head to toe.
Xu Annie’s lips trembled, wanting to say something but ultimately remaining silent.
“Around the end of last year, things had cooled down, the wanted notice was withdrawn, and I happened to have a big deal coming up. So I called A’bang back to help, told him he could bring you if he wanted – our A’cha is generous, doesn’t hold grudges.”
Que Cha smiled coyly, though her tone was cold: “What good would holding a grudge do? They’ve already slept together, am I supposed to castrate him?”
Yu Rong continued: “Later, A’bang came back alone, and I didn’t ask much about it.”
“Who knew the year would be so unlucky – we ran into a double-cross,” Yu Rong’s expression grew fierce, her tongue flicking at the corner of her mouth, tongue stud glinting. “A’bang had gotten rusty after being idle for so long, his skills weren’t up to par. Those bastards gunned him down.”
Xu Annie’s face was expressionless – there was too much information, and her brain had shut down.
Whatever this Yu person said didn’t matter anymore. Even if she’d said Xingbang died in a nuclear explosion, she wouldn’t care.
“Before A’bang died, he told me he didn’t care about dying, but the Wu family needed an heir, and mentioned you were pregnant. So as soon as things cooled down, I brought A’cha here.”
At this point, she glanced at Que Cha.
Que Cha knew it was her turn. With a face full of smiles and a gentle tone: “Sister, I see your belly is flat now. Have you already given birth? Where’s the child?”
Xu Annie remained silent, her face as cold as if covered in frost.
Que Cha wasn’t bothered by the rebuff, her smile growing even more alluring: “You’re so young, it’s not easy raising a child alone, and it’s hard to find a new meal ticket, right? I was thinking, why not let me raise the child? Don’t worry, I’ll love it like my own.”
“And you know, you suffered through childbirth, I understand. I came here to offer some compensation on A’bang’s behalf.”
Saying this, she lowered her head and took out a thin red envelope from her small purse: “This twenty thousand yuan is for your nutrition fees, so…”
As she spoke, she eagerly looked toward the inner room: “Where’s the child?”
Xu Annie’s face turned ashen as she pointed trembling at the door: “Get out!”
Que Cha’s smile vanished as she looked at Xu Annie sideways: “We’re trying to be reasonable here, why are you being hostile? If you think it’s not enough money, I can add another two thousand!”
Xu Annie gritted her teeth: “F*ck your ancestors!”
She suddenly went berserk, rushing forward to flip over the table. Que Cha screamed and stood up, trying to explain further, but Xu Annie had already grabbed bottles of oil, salt, and vinegar from the kitchen counter and started throwing them wildly.
She wasn’t done yet – completely out of control, she picked up takeout containers from the floor and launched indiscriminate attacks at the two women. Soup remnants, rice grains, and congealed noodles flew everywhere.
Yu Rong shouted while retreating: “If it weren’t for A’bang’s sake, I’d slap you silly!”
Que Cha followed closely behind Yu Rong in her stilettos, yelling: “How dare she attack us! I told you, anyone A’bang would choose couldn’t be decent!”
Xu Annie rushed to the door and threw a final Coca-Cola bottle in the direction of their retreat. With the crisp, satisfying sound of breaking glass, three words escaped through her clenched teeth:
“Bunch of bastards.”
Yan Tuo’s car was parked at the street corner. Growing impatient, he had already gotten out to pace when he spotted the two women approaching. His heart lifted as he hurried to meet them: “How did…”
He’d meant to ask how things went, but before he could finish, a strong smell of sauce and vinegar hit his nose. Looking closer, he saw Yu Rong’s right shoulder was wet, Que Cha’s chest was stained with vinegar, one had rice grains stuck to her bald head, and the other had noodles hanging from her wavy hair.
Yan Tuo quickly changed his question: “Things didn’t go well?”
Yu Rong had no outlet for her anger: “It’s lucky Nie Er isn’t here. If she were, I’d dunk her in a water vat.”
Some director she is – won’t act herself but pushes others to their limits.