In the cool winds of October, on a mountain town evening, Wu Jiakui listened to what she said and took a drag of her cigarette.

The car’s headlights shone this way, coating both of them in a halo of light. The car horn beeped once. Long Qi pressed her cigarette butt into the trash can by the door. Wu Jiakui said, “Interesting.”

That night, Fang Xuan finally got her late-night crawfish meal at ten o’clock.

She ate until her hands were covered in oily sauce, thoroughly satisfied. Meanwhile, Jin Yiken’s efficiency was extremely high. After learning of Long Qi’s idea, within the span of one crawfish meal and a few phone calls, he’d found out the situation with the script Xi Jing had. The script’s source material was a short story with extremely high industry acclaim, titled just two words: “Wicked Woman.” Eight thousand characters in length, ingeniously conceived, full of twists and turns, with full and outstanding character designs. It had certain circulation and years of discussion online. Many companies had filming plans for it, but the specific rights ownership wasn’t entirely clear. The original author was contemporary writer Mr. Bao Demin, an especially stubborn old gentleman who’d won countless awards. But numerous classic works from his pen were all held back—there had never been any precedent of initiating film and television adaptations. He reportedly said he “didn’t like young people who don’t even know what they’re doing changing a single word of his writing.” Even his published works were entirely original manuscripts. But since both Xi Jing and Wu Jiakui had received casting news, it appeared some company behind the scenes had already won the prize, or was currently competing for it.

Wu Jiakui said it was Shao Guo’an making the move.

When she filmed “Border,” she’d heard Shao Guo’an’s team discussing this matter. Securing “Wicked Woman” was just the beginning. Shao Guo’an’s goal was to use this as a breakthrough to devour multiple classic masterpieces under Old Man Bao’s unified worldview—quite a substantial IP. If successful, it would be enough to create a prosperous period of at least ten years for Chinese-language film history. Unfortunately, Old Man Bao was very difficult to deal with. Even a renowned director like Shao Guo’an was struggling quite a bit in negotiations. Whether he’d successfully negotiated wasn’t certain, but the news had already been released first. No wonder Xi Jing was among the first in the industry to catch wind of it. Wu Jiakui had already taken “Border,” and Xi Jing absolutely wouldn’t let go of this next big cake.

After Jin Yiken thoroughly investigated all these matters inside and out, he said four words: “I want it too.”

Wu Jiakui looked up.

Fang Xuan pushed the crawfish over, saying go ahead and eat, no one’s stopping you.

“He means ‘Wicked Woman.'” Long Qi said.

After Jin Yiken finished that sentence, a decision seemed to have been made just like that. Without looking up, he straightened his posture and crossed his legs, typing rapidly on his phone. Wu’er asked who he was messaging. Wu Jiakui said you’re really bold, daring to intercept Shao Guo’an’s prey.

“Do you pick opponents when you do things?” He first looked up at Wu Jiakui, then replied to Wu’er, “My mom, daily greetings.”

“Director Shao is an industry veteran. Even my dad has to give him some face. He’s had his eye on ‘Wicked Woman’ for a long time. You understand better than I do how deep the connections of that generation run. Are you sure you want to touch his cake?”

He didn’t respond, still looking down and messaging, smiling slightly. As if he’d taken in Wu Jiakui’s words, yet as if he hadn’t, assuming an attitude of “whether you play along with me is up to you.” After finishing his message, the phone spun once in his palm. He turned his head. “Pay the bill.”

Long Qi wore his jacket draped over her, hair flowing down her shoulders. As he went to the counter to pay, her elbow propped on her knee, she leisurely picked at the drunken crab claws in the cold dish.

Wu Jiakui’s fingers tapped on the table surface, silently staring toward Jin Yiken. The little fox was calculating gains and losses, her mind working rapidly. Within half a minute, as if she’d finally mentally played through the turbulent clash between the two major backing forces represented by Shao Guo’an and Jin Yiken, she looked at Long Qi. “Fine. I’m boarding you two’s pirate ship today. You two handle the production, he handles everything outside the production. I’m so sincere about doing business—you better not let me take a loss.”

The beer can’s pull tab made a “tss” sound under her index finger. Long Qi’s arm rested against her drawn-up knee, lightly clinking against the glass by Wu Jiakui’s hand.

Cool alcohol down the throat, a deal sealed with one word.

A pack of little wolves had finally banded together before the harsh winter closed in, fully equipped and ready to hunt that truly cunning mountain tiger.

After completing the four-day, three-night filming at Xunqu Mountain, she left without a trace of reluctance, not even bothering with the so-called “wrap party” Wu Yishan had specially arranged, directly hitting the road back.

If Wu’er’s “Small Town” was an art film for Long Qi to hone her acting skills and accumulate reputation, then Old Man Bao’s “Wicked Woman” was a genuine commercial film, aimed at box office and market impact. Grabbing both types with both hands, submitting report cards simultaneously—the glorious path for the next three years was probably already paved in advance. If Jin Yiken managed to get both these films into his hands… His ambition was great, Long Qi’s courage wasn’t small either. The one truly frightened was Lao Ping. The first directive he received from his new boss was to compete with Shao Guo’an for food. He sent several question marks for confirmation. After exhausting all questions, he bitterly arranged ballet courses for her and went to find connections to establish contact with Old Man Bao.

By then, Jin Yiken had already driven her back to the city.

He didn’t take her to Langzhu Mansion. The car drove straight to the underground parking garage of an office building in the financial district. It was six in the evening. The elevator went directly to the fifteenth floor, arriving at the place he’d taken Long Qi to inspect before. The last time she came was when he’d returned to the country as an academic exchange student. Back then it was still an empty unit, only filled with slanting sunlight and a young, arrogant him. Now it was fully renovated. Outside the glass walls, the night scene was brilliant. Inside was an entertainment company that hadn’t ended its work hours yet, with seven or eight people still discussing a PPT in the bright conference room. She followed Jin Yiken in through a side door, avoiding the main office area, entering the CEO’s office. The lights weren’t on, making the night scene outside the walls even more beautiful.

Jin Yiken finished a phone call to his mother here. In a few days it would be Lian Shaozi’s birthday. Using a sincere filial heart as justification, he obtained his mother’s permission token to return home. An hour later, he used Long Qi’s phone to send Lian Shaozi a farewell message: After the Xunqu Mountain trip, school coursework was busy, so she’d decided to move back to Long Ziyi’s home.

Doing bad deeds with thief-like smoothness, without a shred of shame. Long Qi said he was dishonest. Long Ziyi had a big temper. Since she’d escaped the blood test last time, she still hadn’t calmed down. Originally she’d still had Langzhu Mansion as a fallback, but now, her retreat was completely cut off. For his own selfish desires, he was placing her in danger.

But as soon as she finished speaking, she remembered something and changed topics. “I’m going for the checkup tomorrow.”

Jin Yiken was leaning against the glass wall with a smile. When the words came out, he looked up. Long Qi’s hand turned the coffee cup warming her hands. “I don’t want to delay anymore. I have many things to do. Dead or alive, I need an answer.”

…

Ten seconds later, he nodded.

“Tomorrow I’ll take you.”

“Lao Ping will accompany me. There are too many people following me now. Don’t take me. Listen to your mom—don’t let her discover you lied to her. Women really don’t like being deceived.”

“You can handle it yourself?”

“It’s just a blood test. The results don’t come out the same day anyway. You can accompany me the day I get the report.”

His expression didn’t change, but he paused for a few seconds, not knowing what he was scheming again. Then he said, “Fine. I won’t go, but you do something for me.”

“What?”

“My household registration booklet is at your mom’s place. Help me get it back.”

…

…

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Get yours too.”

The word “get” sounded too pleasant. This kind of exchange of contract-like items clearly meant he was inciting her to “steal.” She asked again, “What do you want to do?”

“Having them here makes me happy.”

She didn’t respond, sitting in the sofa chair in front of the office desk, the chair slowly rotating as she stared at Jin Yiken. Only then did he say, “I’m giving myself a sense of security.”

She didn’t respond. Five seconds later, he continued, “Since you’ve decided to go for the checkup, there are some things you need to hear.”

“Go ahead.”

“I do like sleeping with you, Long Qi.”

…

The coffee steamed. Behind him were thousands of buildings as gorgeous as starlight. The words were very direct. He wasn’t looking at her. After a two-second pause following his words, only then did he look at her.

“I like you at night, and I like you during the day. I like when you smoke and curse, and I like when you stay up late reading scripts. When you lose your temper, I like it. When you tell a lame joke, I like it. When you’re not wearing clothes, I like it. When you’re wrapped up like a dumpling, I like it. I like that little mole on your earlobe, and I like the rash you get after drinking too much. I like when you’re idle, and I like when you’re full of ambition. From head to toe, you as a person—I like all of it. I’m counting on you for this lifetime. However we live is fine. You don’t need to fully understand what I’m saying right now. Just remember it. Did you remember?”

…

In the office with no lights on, the city light from outside the glass walls illuminated both of them. Such a confession, lengthy yet pleasant to hear. She nodded.

He withdrew his gaze, lowered his head, and also nodded.

…

“So my jokes are really lame?”