After Jin Yiken finished that sentence, he added another: “So there’s no need to prepare anything for her.”

Xu Yifen heard the emotion in those words and looked at him silently. Long Qi’s fork dropped from her hand with a “clatter,” and she leaned back in her chair. If ignoring him earlier was retaliation for him ignoring her yesterday, then his interjection just now was revenge for being given the cold shoulder moments ago. He immediately closed his script and stood up, glancing at Ban Wei: “Want to go surfing?”

“Down the mountain?”

“Let’s drive.”

“Sure!”

These two heartlessly agreed on a recreational outing. He grabbed the car keys from the table, while Long Qi pushed away the sandwich in front of her and similarly pulled out her chair to stand. Xu Yifen asked what was wrong, and she replied: “I only drink water in the morning.”

As Jin Yiken’s car started and drove away, she walked up the stairs with her water bottle without looking back, brushing past Wu Jiakui who was coming down after finishing yoga. Wu Jiakui was quite proud too—she didn’t even glance at the breakfast spread on the long table. Before Xu Yifen could speak, she was met with “I’m not eating, thanks.” At the same time, the sound of shattering glass came from the small bar on the left side of the living room, immediately followed by Chen Shan’s scream.

Both Wu Jiakui and Xu Yifen looked in that direction, and Long Qi’s steps also paused at the stairway.

Chen Shan and Zang Siming were somehow already there, apparently struggling over something. A wine glass had shattered, blood flowed from Zang Siming’s hand, and his expression was quite annoyed as he cursed “shit” under his breath. He shook his hand once, splattering blood in all directions. Chen Shan’s whole body trembled, and this very reaction angered him. He yanked Chen Shan’s arm fiercely: “You’re acting so damn precious! Don’t you know your own worth?”

Fang Xuan was awakened by the commotion and poked her head up from beside the sofa, blurting out: “What’s wrong with this person?”

“He’s always been mentally ill.”

Long Qi said this and took one step down the stairs. Chen Shan suddenly pulled her arm free, her face looking terrified, deathly pale: “I’ve had enough, I want to go home…”

“If you don’t want to stay here, then get lost!”

Zang Siming’s roar was thunderous, his neck thickening with rage. Chen Shan turned to leave, wiping her face as she grabbed her bag from the bar. Long Qi pulled her hand as she passed the stairs, feeling her whole body trembling, skin cold and clammy. Chen Shan quickly withdrew her hand from Long Qi’s grip and said in a low voice: “He’s sick.”

“What did you say?”

“Get lost!” Zang Siming roared again.

Long Qi held Chen Shan back again: “If you’re going down the mountain, I’ll take you.”

“No need, I’ll call a cab myself. He won’t let you take me. I’ll go by myself. Please, I’m really fine.”

Her voice was trembling with choked sobs. Chen Shan looked like she desperately wanted to disappear immediately. As soon as Long Qi loosened her grip, she immediately headed for the front door without looking back. Zang Siming pulled out several tissues to wipe the bleeding cut on his palm, still cursing under his breath. Long Qi took out her phone and scrolled through her contacts, pausing for a few seconds on Jin Yiken’s number without dialing, then instead called Ban Wei. When Ban Wei answered, she asked: “Have you guys gone down the mountain yet?”

“Not yet, we just left a minute ago,” Ban Wei’s end had very loud car music, “What’s up? You want to come?”

“No, Chen Shan is about to go down the mountain. If it’s convenient, stop at the intersection and give her a ride down.”

“What happened to her?”

“She had some conflict with Zang Siming. When she gets in the car, don’t ask about it. Just take her wherever she wants to go.”

“Ken Ken is driving, he wants to surf.”

Then she heard the sound of the phone being passed over, followed by Jin Yiken’s voice: “Hello?”

“I already told Ban Wei.”

Click—a quick hang-up.

…

About two hours later, she received a belated message from Ban Wei saying they’d picked up Chen Shan and already dropped her at the airport, and they were now heading to surf as originally planned. By that time, she was already in a third-floor room, fanning herself with her hand while messaging Wu’er to confirm whether she could arrive at the villa tomorrow to start audition work. The house full of people and broken air conditioning gave her no desire to stay. While communicating with Wu’er, she slowly walked around the room. It was nearly noon, summer cicadas were shrilling outside, the sunlight was scorching. She found it irritating, a thin layer of sweat covered her body, so she simply went into the bathroom and took a cold shower.

After the shower, a lazy feeling spread through her bones and muscles, making her want to sleep again. The room was too stuffy to stay in, so she went downstairs hugging her arms. In the center of the second floor was a pool table. That psycho Zang Siming had been furious earlier, but now with his hand bandaged, he was back to flirting with Fang Xuan over pool—though it was also possible that Fang Xuan wanted to play pool and couldn’t find a partner, forcing Zang Siming to play with her. Because Wu Jiakui was buried in the soft sofa beside the pool table listening to music—leisurely as she was, she showed no interest in pool at all. Long Qi asked: “Is anyone fixing the third-floor air conditioning?”

“Called already, said they’d send someone to fix it before one in the afternoon,” Fang Xuan replied, taking a shot that went in the pocket.

“Can’t anyone here fix it?”

“Sure, after telling Jin Yiken this morning, he said he’d go check the third floor, and now whoosh—off to the beach to have fun.”

…

Jin Yiken, that bastard.

She sighed, feeling somewhat tired. Zang Siming was polishing his pool cue with sandpaper: “Want an afternoon nap? Not to keep pushing, but my room is always ready for you, there.”

He pointed his cue tip toward the room on the east side, grinning. Long Qi rolled her eyes at him, turned around and went in the opposite direction, entering a large bedroom facing south with the brightest light, closing the door behind her.

Zang Siming made tsk-tsk sounds. Wu Jiakui stood up from the sofa: “I’m going to sleep too.”

Without even glancing at the direction Zang Siming pointed out for her, she similarly walked in the opposite direction, entering another room. His gaze hadn’t returned yet when Fang Xuan swung her cue and hit his waist: “Hurry up, it’s your turn.”

Jin Yiken returned two hours later.

Ban Wei walked behind him, completely soaked like something, while Jin Yiken was better off—half wet, half dry, with some sand stuck to his arms. After coming upstairs, he walked straight toward his room. Fang Xuan was polishing her cue tip and took a moment to glance over: “You two made it back alive.”

“Taking a shower,” Ban Wei said.

But his steps stopped in front of a closed door. Ban Wei bumped into him, and he lazily turned around: “Is someone in my room?”

“Oh, forgot to tell you,” Fang Xuan poked her head out to look, “Jiakui is sleeping in your room because the third-floor air conditioning still hasn’t been fixed.”

With that, he headed straight for the room Lao Ping had vacated. Ban Wei also stopped in front of his own room, just turned the doorknob halfway, then stopped and pointed: “Is there someone in my room too?”

“Yes,” Fang Xuan answered, then frowned and slapped the table, “Oh wait no, Jiakui is sleeping in your room, Long Qi is in Jin Yiken’s room.”

He turned back around, went to the door and twisted the doorknob without a word. Ban Wei: “She’s going to throw you out.”

“She’s the one who’ll throw you out.”

Entered the room, closed the door.

…

By that time, Long Qi was already fast asleep.

The cool air conditioning and smooth silk bedding were particularly conducive to sleep. She felt this was the most comfortable room in the entire house. With the curtains half-drawn, phone placed beside the pillow, air conditioning set to nineteen degrees—so low—half her face buried in the covers, she vaguely heard the sound of the door opening. But she was sleeping so deeply at that moment, almost unconscious, that even with awareness, she was too lazy to open her eyes. She just coughed once and buried her face a bit deeper into the covers.

She heard the sound of the air conditioning being adjusted.

Four “beep” sounds.

Then footsteps approached the head of the bed. The pillow beside her lightened—the phone that had been there was moved to a cabinet farther from the headboard. She heard the light “tap” of the phone touching the table surface, very soft. Then the nightstand drawer was gently pulled open.

Something was taken out, closed again. Footsteps headed toward the bathroom on the right, the “swoosh” of the sliding door opening, then slowly closing.

Faint sound of water.

After that, consciousness grew heavier and heavier. All these sounds faded away at her ears, and she immediately fell back into deep sleep. She had several fragmented dreams—catching lobsters on clouds, playing bowling in a pool hall. Later, an air raid siren sounded from somewhere, annoying her uncomfortably. Getting more and more irritated, she gradually woke up. The air raid siren transformed into a phone ringtone right by her ear. Her hand groped beside the pillow but found nothing. Frowning, she opened her eyes and finally saw the phone at the edge of the nightstand. She picked it up and put it to her ear.

“What are you doing? I called you twice.” Lao Ping.

“Afternoon nap…”

“Everyone taking naps? Three calls to Yifen went unanswered.”

“Probably making lunch…” She turned over, burying her whole body deeper into the covers. “Are you looking for her or me…”

“Both. I sent next month’s schedule to your WeChat, check it. Yifen has an online interview to do, I need her account password so I can operate it for her.”

“Mm.”

“What do you mean ‘mm’? I can’t find her, so I’m asking you to help me find her.”

“Now I’m running errands too.”

“Sweetheart, you know I don’t mean it that way. I wouldn’t dare boss you around unless it’s urgent. Your Uncle Ping is begging you.”

“Got it… I know.”

“Within five minutes, okay?”

“Mm.”

Hung up the phone, hand sliding onto the pillow. No movement for half a minute, gradually falling asleep again. Ten minutes later, shaken awake by another ring. As soon as she put it to her ear, she responded: “Okay, I know, I know.”

Hung up immediately, already knowing what nonsense Lao Ping would throw at her. She dialed Ban Wei’s number with one phone. Ban Wei answered, and she asked while yawning: “Are you back?”

“Yeah, back.”

“Is Xu Yifen in the house?”

“In the kitchen probably, looking for her?”

“Have her call Lao Ping back.”—”Yifen, Long Qi’s looking for you, second floor!”

Her reply and Ban Wei’s shout rang out simultaneously. She cursed “damn it” in her heart. Ban Wei, self-satisfied with his efficiency: “There, called her for you, coming up.”

“Good.”

Hung up the phone, buried in the covers with a heavy sigh of waking irritation. She heard Ban Wei’s guiding voice outside the door: “There, she’s napping inside.”

Then, as Xu Yifen opened the door and entered, she propped herself up from the headboard. Her skin slid across the silk covers, her gaze meeting Xu Yifen’s. She lazily swept back her hair with heavy drowsiness: “Did you not have your phone with you?”

Xu Yifen paused, just remembering, her brow smoothing: “Is Uncle Ping looking for me? I was making dessert and completely forgot.”

Long Qi nodded.

But Xu Yifen didn’t turn around. The door under her hand gently closed. The room fell quiet. Long Qi looked at her. She said: “I’ll call Uncle Ping back in a moment.”

But clearly had more to say. After watching her hands clasp together somewhat unnaturally in front of her, Long Qi finally asked: “What’s wrong?”

Xu Yifen looked at her: “Uncle Ping must have spent considerable effort getting you to find me. He knows you don’t like me.”

Long Qi didn’t respond.

“Uncle Ping has been really worried about you lately, always afraid you’re unhappy, so he’s been very cautious about many schedule arrangements. I’ve noticed his mental state hasn’t been great recently.”

“Is that so,” she responded flatly.

“I also know I didn’t handle things very well with the script matter. I’ve always felt deeply apologetic toward you. Um, I know your personality and temper too. Anyway, these days it’s mainly about considering your feelings—whatever makes you comfortable, I’m fine with anything. But mainly, what I mean to say is…”

“Say it.”

Yifen looked up, meeting her gaze: “In the future, when we’re around Uncle Ping, could we two act a bit more harmonious? That way Uncle Ping’s burden might not be so heavy.”

“You mean, without me saying or doing anything, I’ve already caused Lao Ping mental stress?”

“I absolutely don’t mean it’s all your fault. It was me who didn’t handle things well from the start, I…”

“Fine.”

Long Qi answered decisively, her forehead tilting toward the doorway, the invitation to leave obvious. But Xu Yifen still didn’t go, continuing: “There’s one more thing I want to clarify in advance.”

Her chest rose and fell slightly, her eyes signaling for Xu Yifen to speak.

She said: “At this audition, the lead role will definitely be chosen between you and me. I hope that regardless of whether the final result is you or me, the relationship and emotions between us both remain unaffected. After all, we’re from the same studio. Uncle Ping hopes we’ll weather storms together. And everyone’s an adult now—some emotions can be self-regulated. I can do it, so I hope Qiqi can too.”

This was confidence, laying out her attitude in advance. But this person spoke too beautifully. With the curtains half-drawn in the room, half sunlight and half shadow, Long Qi said: “Then let me ask you a question.”

“Okay.”

“Hypothetically—I’m saying hypothetically—if I ultimately get this role, but the investor still specifically requests you to perform, would you graciously refuse to participate, or would you continue to accept the role under pressure? You have to tell the truth.”

“I would graciously refuse.”

“Good. Then Xu Yifen, let me tell you—the audition itself is fair competition. The final result depends on who deserves to rise to the position, not on who has backing. So I won’t have emotional fluctuations. Your worry is unnecessary. But since you’ve brought it up, let’s lay it all out. I hope we can both be rational and accepting. What’s yours, take it. What’s not yours—even if eighteen pairs of hands are pushing you from behind—don’t take it.”

Xu Yifen’s chest rose and fell.

“Should we put it in writing?” Long Qi said.

Xu Yifen looked toward the bed.

“Put it in writing… that’s not necessary, right? No need to make it so serious.”

“No, I think your point is quite good. It constrains me and constrains you too.”

Xu Yifen’s hands clasped together again in front of her. Long Qi watched. And just in this quite tense moment, the bathroom door suddenly opened, startling Long Qi badly. Her shoulders jumped, all the momentum from the previous second deflating like a balloon. As her eyes fiercely darted over, they met Jin Yiken’s gaze. This ancestor was bare-chested, wearing only beach shorts. Who knows when he’d been in there. Now emerging from the misty steam, clearly just showered, water droplets sliding over the tattoos on his arms and neck, creating quite a damn striking effect. He met her gaze, closed the bathroom door behind him, an attitude of “I’m already here, good physique for you to see, and I’m not planning to leave.” He swept a calm glance over Xu Yifen at the door. Xu Yifen’s face instantly turned red, obviously to the point of dripping blood. His gaze moved back, right hand sliding into his pants pocket: “What’s going on?”