The vacuum cleaner sound was still ringing. Long Qi propped her chin, looking at Jin Yiken who’d just said these words: “So are you… still having your meeting tomorrow morning or not?”

“I’ll push the meeting time back an hour, buy the seven o’clock early flight. A movie is two hours—after watching, I can still accompany you for a late-night snack. What do you think?”

“Perfect.” She replied instantly.

Jin Yiken’s eyes were still on his own phone screen. The corner of his mouth clearly curved up, very slightly. His hand movements looked like he was entering an ID number. Screen light illuminated his face, illuminated the slightly open shirt collar at his neck. He said: “You sleep first. I’ll message you when I arrive.”

……

How could she possibly sleep.

Her cold instantly got better. Her whole person was incredibly energetic. After the video connection with Jin Yiken hung up, she was still lying on the bed, but her heart was already incredibly restless. It wasn’t until eight o’clock when she received his boarding message that she settled down, feeling this person couldn’t run away now. At the same time, she received a message from Lao Ping saying they’d arrive at the hotel at nine after watching the play, asking if she wanted them to bring anything back. She didn’t reply.

No mood to deal with others.

At ten o’clock, the female assistant knocked on her room door. She didn’t respond either. The group outside truly thought she was asleep and each returned to their own rooms. She was on the sofa scrolling through her phone, checking the real-time updates of Jin Yiken’s flight. At that time, it was still raining outside the hotel—not heavy, but quite dense, dripping and tinkling on the window glass like feathers scratching the skin near her ears, cool and crisp.

The photo of Jin Yiken playing basketball yesterday at this time was still hanging on Pengzi’s girlfriend’s Instagram.

She clicked a heart.

Her fingertip continued sliding the screen. During this time, a strange phone call came in. Thinking it was a spam call, she didn’t answer. Later it called two more times, three times. Each time she rejected it. Probably not receiving any response from her end, the other party’s calling behavior changed to sending messages. The phone dinged. A banner appeared at the top of the screen: Big beauty, knowing your condition isn’t good, I flew right over. Just landed, brought some gifts. I’m at your hotel entrance now. Answer big brother’s call.?

What?

She immediately sat up from the sofa and reread the text message, looking at the “big beauty” greeting at the beginning, looking at the “big brother” self-reference at the end, looking at the flattering tone between the lines. An image of someone wide-bodied and fat popped into her head. She instinctively cursed.

It was that fat guy who’d pursued her in Thailand before.

He’d finally discovered the phone number she’d given him was fake. This time he’d somehow pried out the real number, and seemed to have bribed someone in her team. He had her status and address completely figured out, charging over in a cloud of dust, and at this timing—precisely this timing. These words carried the weight of two hundred jin. She went to “Recent Calls” to find Lao Ping.

One phone call over, straight to the point: “You still remember that guy surnamed Zhuang from the Thailand island rental? The one who charmed you into happiness.”

“Oh…” Lao Ping reacted. “What? Aren’t you sleeping?”

“He’s blocked the hotel entrance. He’s called me four or five times. Can you clearly explain my attitude to this person?”

“What attitude?”

“What do you think?”

“You just sleep,” Lao Ping replied. “Just mute your phone, won’t that work? You’re not going out tonight anyway.”

“Before, you wouldn’t let me refuse considering the sponsor’s face. This time you’re still not handling it?”

“Me saying it is one thing. Whether he listens is another. I can only help convey the meaning for you. If you really want him to leave, you’ll have to say it yourself. You witnessed his willpower in Thailand.”

“Right. Based on that willpower, if you don’t make him give up tonight, he could rent out this hotel. Make it absolutely clear to him—he has no chance with me. Go say it quickly. My headache won’t let me sleep.”

“Why are you so anxious…”

“Hurry up!” She called out. “My head’s about to split!”

“Fine, fine, fine, fine…” Lao Ping responded. “You sleep, sleep. Leave it to me.”

After hanging up, she called Lao Ping again a minute later. On his end, it was already showing “on another call” status. Good, not bad—he was solving the matter. Then she called Jin Yiken’s number. Powered off. Still on the plane.

Five minutes later, Lao Ping sent a message: Rest assured and sleep. I’m handling that guy surnamed Zhuang.

She asked: Did he leave?

Lao Ping: He left.

The fat guy didn’t call again.

Only then did she lie back on the sofa, her heart settling. The rain outside the hotel kept falling. Her phone slowly spun on her lower abdomen. Her knees felt chilly from the air conditioning breeze. She waited patiently.

Approaching eleven-thirty, the phone dinged.

Opening the WeChat page, this time it was finally from Jin Yiken. She sat up. He’d arrived at the hotel. The message he sent was very lordly—a real-time location, followed by two words: Come down.

This pushing-his-luck jerk.

Loved it to death.

From changing clothes to leaving the room took only five minutes. Long Qi didn’t put on any makeup at all. Thin black hoodie paired with black hot pants, arms crossed standing in the elevator. While watching the red floor numbers jump downward, her finger tapped on her arm. At this hour, there were no other hotel guests coming and going. The elevator’s journey from the tenth floor to the ground floor was smooth and unobstructed. Breathing rose and fell in the enclosed space. She could hear the pounding of her chest cavity beside her ears. As the elevator door dinged open, she walked out.

In the southwest area of the lobby, in the sofa area devoid of people at eleven-thirty at night, Jin Yiken was sitting there.

……

This person who’d occupied her thoughts day and night for the past three days was now sitting there alive.

His elbow rested on his knee, his phone pressed to his mouth, sending a voice message.

Different from the jerk in the chat box, he seemed to be handling some work-level matters. His expression was quite serious. He hadn’t noticed her yet. An attitude of handling business while waiting for someone. His clothes had changed though—not as formal as in the video. He’d changed to a black T-shirt. Quite low-key, quite casual. Still a young man. Quite handsome.

She walked toward him. Several service ladies working the night shift at the front desk looked toward her, then followed her gaze back to the sofa area, exchanging some private conversation.

But after just a few steps, she noticed another person sitting in the sofa area.

Sitting right on the sofa seat opposite Jin Yiken, back to her. A round-headed, fat-brained back view. The more she looked, the more familiar it seemed. The more she looked, the more wrong it felt. Her hand hung in her pocket, lazily observing. Finally, at only three meters from the other party, she recognized the person. Her head sank, her steps paused.

A curse in her heart.

She turned around urgently. The fat guy heard some movement at this moment, twisting his head to look this way. Long Qi flashed behind a screen before his gaze moved over. Super nimble. The screen shook from the impact. She held it with her hand. In her heart, she quartered the ineffective Lao Ping ten thousand times. The front desk ladies opposite stared at her. Jin Yiken was completely oblivious. He was fully concentrated on the voice communication, separated from the fat guy by a marble coffee table, not glancing toward the opposite side at all.

She pulled out her phone from her pocket and sent a WeChat: I’m waiting for you at the back door.

With successful sending, a ding sounded from over there. She looked over. Jin Yiken’s back leaned against the sofa. He looked like he was reading the message now. His thumb moved slowly on the keyboard.

She immediately received a message: Too far. Wait at the front door.

Damn Jin Yiken.

While she was typing a reply, the elevator opposite suddenly dinged. She saw Lao Ping emerge from inside. Good! Just in time. She wanted to call him, but Lao Ping had no time to glance this way at all, heading straight to the sofa area: “Ah, Young Master Zhuang, sorry for the long wait, long wait…”??

With this shout, Jin Yiken looked up. That fat guy also turned back.

But Lao Ping’s eyesight wasn’t bad. His steps quickly slowed. This great Buddha Jin Yiken was sitting blatantly opposite the fat guy, unabashedly meeting his eyes. Lao Ping had no psychological preparation, was stunned for a moment. His reaction was also quick. He turned to scan the lobby, seeing if he could catch Long Qi attempting to “secretly cross to Chen Cang.” He really did see her poking her head out from behind the screen next to the front desk. At that instant, his facial expression was extremely rich—like he wanted to catch her in the act, yet also like she’d caught him. Long Qi stared at him silently.

Jin Yiken lazily glanced at the fat guy opposite again.

Well then.

He was researching what the hell this situation was.

The fat guy at this moment snorted through his nose, his palm slapping the armrest: “Didn’t you say I could see her today? What’s going on?”

Lao Ping turned back.

“Oh… Our Qiqi suddenly caught a cold, her condition isn’t good. Really not good.”

Probably choosing between “welcoming Jin Yiken” and “stabilizing Young Master Zhuang” the latter who could lose control at any moment, Lao Ping’s words were spoken without his face turning red or his heart skipping a beat. He even stole a glance at Jin Yiken.

Jin Yiken said nothing.

Not only did he say nothing, he also leisurely crossed his legs.

That’s right, Long Qi could tell.

His bad nature had emerged again. He hadn’t yet figured out the situation, but he knew there was a good show to watch. And this time he not only wanted to watch Long Qi’s joke, but also watch Lao Ping’s joke together. She was too familiar with his gaze—just like back then in front of Zhuo Qing, watching her and Bai Aiting engage in verbal combat. The fat guy said: “So isn’t that why I came to see her? Hey, Uncle Ping, what you said earlier wasn’t like this.”

“I remember what I said earlier, I remember.” Lao Ping’s palm pressed down in the air. “It’s just that our Qiqi, she’s really inconvenient today. Recording outdoor scenes, she was drenched in rain all day, listless and dispirited. You also know her little explosive temper—going at this time might be counterproductive.”

To increase credibility, he added another sentence: “Today Teacher Zang Xipu invited her to watch Director Huang’s play, couldn’t move her either.”

“No,” the fat guy’s face was ruddy, frowning and waving his hand. “Ping, now it’s not a question of who can or can’t move her. Don’t block me with the routine you use on outsiders, okay? I received…”

Lao Ping pressed his palm downward again: “Young Master Zhuang, let’s…”

“I received your tip-off and came here specifically,” the fat guy insisted on saying. “You can’t let me come for nothing, right? The previous transaction would be for nothing…”

“Young Master Zhuang, let’s find a place for these…”

“Just tell me whether the previous transaction was for nothing or not?”

While Lao Ping and the fat guy were pulling and tugging verbally, a WeChat rushed to Long Qi’s phone. She looked down.

—In the days without me, how many people have you provoked?

Jin Yiken.

Fine, while watching the show he was also distracted toward her. Her finger quickly typed on the keyboard: They’re the ones provoking me, okay?

After sending, she typed another sentence: I only provoke you.

Then checking the time—eleven forty-five. She took a breath, looked over there again. Lao Ping wanted to stabilize Young Master Zhuang while also wanting to show Jin Yiken that he hadn’t “abandoned the root for the branch.” Still persuading. Jin Yiken was currently looking at her reply, typing.

She received a reply: But I see you devour old, young, fat, and thin alike.

She replied: So which one are you among old, young, fat, and thin?

Jin Yiken: Handsome.

She: Where the hell is handsome?

Jin Yiken called, the phone vibrating violently. She gripped it tightly, rejected the call, then peeked out through the gap in the screen. The fat guy was being pestered by Lao Ping and hadn’t noticed. But Jin Yiken had noticed.

His phone was spinning on the armrest, looking in her direction.

At the same time, the fat guy’s palm slapped the coffee table: “I don’t care, Uncle Ping!”

The echo reached even her. The ladies at the front desk stood up slightly. Only Jin Yiken remained unmoved by the wind, looking in her direction.

“That young artist in your studio surnamed Xu, that movie’s second female lead role—I spent considerable effort helping you secure it. My requirement is very simple—just let Long Qi see me once and have a meal with me. Simple, right? Not too much, right? But you? You can’t even do something this simple! Does Long Qi want to support junior brothers and sisters or not!”

After these words, Long Qi finally understood.

The artist surnamed Xu was a newcomer Lao Ping’s studio had recently signed.

Well done, Lao Ping. Playing it smooth. She’d wondered earlier how the fat guy got her phone number. Turns out the mole was him.

Connecting the conversation front to back, the whole thing was Lao Ping using the fat guy’s fondness for her to make a dowry for his subordinate newcomer. Earlier saying the person had left was probably also deceiving her. He might have wanted to take this opportunity to discuss resource exchanges with the other party. Plus Jin Yiken and Zang Xipu—catching benefits from all sides, balancing them all, not making definitive statements to anyone. Using her as the center, threading and connecting resources from all parties to benefit the entire studio’s artists. Transparent and shrewd. Really not a foolish old man.

Result: caught red-handed by her and Jin Yiken on the spot.

Lao Ping supported his old waist. His private dealings were exposed cleanly by the fat guy. He couldn’t even get angry. He said: “That’s the principle. You’re right. But Long Qi is currently sleep…”

Jin Yiken sent her another sentence: Should I or shouldn’t I give Lao Ping face?

She replied: Give what face?

She felt he was smiling.

Then she received a sentence: I’ll give it.

This sentence came strangely. When she looked out from behind the screen, he’d already stood up. The dispute between Lao Ping and the fat guy was like two strangers to him. He lowered his head, still typing on his phone, casually passing the two of them, walking toward the hotel entrance.

Her phone vibrated: Come out. Waiting for you in the car outside.

The fat guy and Lao Ping were tangled too intensely. When Long Qi passed through one side of the lobby, she didn’t attract these two people’s attention.

The fine rain outside the hotel was still falling.

The car door banged open. Some night rain fell on her shoulder, cool and crisp. Sitting inside, brushing off the hood above her head and turning her head to the side, following her chest cavity’s breathing to look at him. Jin Yiken’s elbow rested by the car window, supporting his head, just like when Long Qi first got in his car—scummy as hell. As soon as the door closed, she asked: “Don’t like fat guys? He’s pursued me to this extent and you have no reaction?”

“Don’t like.”

This sentence was simple and brutal. She choked for a moment. He continued: “You like him?”

The car’s enclosed atmosphere, fine rain tapping the windows. After three seconds, she replied: “Do you still not know who I like?”

……

“Not only do I like you, I’ve also slept with you.”

The driver in the front seat glanced at the rearview mirror. Jin Yiken didn’t smile, but his eyes conveyed the four big words “this is interesting.” He rubbed his forehead. Long Qi dropped a line to the driver: “Shangchuan Road, Haihe Film Capital.”

Then pushed back at Jin Yiken: “Someone as energetic as me—men, women, old, young, fat, thin who like me are all queuing up. You have no thoughts?”

He sat up straighter, back against the chair back. Their shoulders touched. He said: “I was also very energetic before.”

This sentence had many layers of meaning.

Long Qi didn’t reply. The car started, driving toward the main road. The cabin was quiet for a while. The windshield wipers swept back and forth. The sentence “what exactly are your thoughts now” rushed in her throat two or three times. In the end, she still held back, didn’t say it. She looked out the window. Four or five minutes later, she remembered something: “By the way.”

She pulled out her phone from her pocket: “Earlier at Si Bolin’s place, I found a ring at the bottom of a cabinet. Looked quite valuable. Forgot to tell him. Help me ask if he wants to take it. The photo’s here.”

Jin Yiken glanced at her phone screen.

The diamond on the ring was blue. She casually said: “Look, blue diamond.”

“Blue taaffeite.”

“What stone?”

She asked. Jin Yiken took her phone for a second look: “What’s Si Bolin’s place’s password? I’ll go back and get it for him.”

“You’re this enthusiastic?” Her palm supported her chin. “Don’t tell me you’re tricking me for the password to break in anytime.”

Jin Yiken looked at her.

She’d been smiling, but under his gaze, the light in her eyes withdrew a bit. But immediately a fire surged up in her heart, thinking “why can this jerk’s single glance now make her instantly cower?” She elbowed him in the stomach, hitting him unprepared so he bent forward, palm supporting the front seat, coughing. The driver just said: “We’ve arrived.”

Long Qi got out before him. He looked at her from inside the car. His eyes also had fire.

The cinema was on the fifth floor. Jin Yiken didn’t acknowledge her the whole way. It was now three minutes past midnight. The movie had long since started. But arriving late had its benefits—in the rest hall, aside from cinema staff, there was no one else. The person recognized Long Qi when selling drinks but didn’t make a fuss, only gossiping two glances at Jin Yiken. Jin Yiken finished paying for two drinks. She happened to be leaning against the counter drinking hers, finding it bad. She looked at his cup on the counter: “I think yours looks tastier.”

Jin Yiken was still too lazy to acknowledge her. He extracted her cup from her hand, leaving the cup on the counter for her. She drank it. It was indeed tastier. She didn’t return it to him.

In the IMAX giant screen theater, the movie had already started. Inside was packed full of people. The seat the assistant booked for Long Qi had the best view—two seats in the center of the fourth row from the back. The big screen’s light flashed on and off, illuminating people’s faces bright then dark.

The midnight showing was almost all young couples, pair by pair. She followed behind him, arms crossed, sucking on her drink. When entering the seats, people in the same row pulled in their feet and bodies. In the dark lighting, they didn’t recognize her. But Jin Yiken was conspicuous. He was tall, his profile eye-catching. Several girls they passed looked up at him. Long Qi walked halfway when she almost twisted her ankle tripping on a drink bottle one person had left by their seat. He caught her in time. Then his hand didn’t let go, sliding from her elbow to her wrist, holding her hand as they walked.

After taking their seats, his hand released. The person next to Long Qi was a couple her age. The girl turned her head to glance at her. She happened to be smoothing her hair. The big screen’s light illuminated her. She vaguely heard the neighbor take a sharp breath. She calmly pulled up the hood behind her collar, sitting with crossed legs, her body leaning somewhat toward Jin Yiken.

That girl didn’t make a fuss.

The drinks were placed in the armrest’s cup holders.

Halfway through the movie, Jin Yiken’s drink had also been drunk half by her. She bit the straw. The young couple in the front seat started kissing.

No romantic scene was even playing. The male protagonist was still struggling in the soul’s dark night, yet here they were kissing. She changed her crossed leg position, pinching the drink cup. Plastic squeaking sounds softly emitted. The couple in front suddenly separated, especially shy.

She continued biting the straw.

Jin Yiken used to be an expert in this area too.

Before, when school organized watching movies, he always liked to find his way to sit next to her in the dark, getting handsy. Not once had he seriously finished watching a movie. This time he was being serious though. The whole time his hand didn’t come her way. He really was properly accompanying her to watch the premiere. She felt she’d miscalculated. Shouldn’t have bought a movie he liked.

The theater’s air conditioning was very strong.

Her knees were exposed, feeling a bit cold. But there was nothing to cover up with. Her hand instinctively stroked her legs. Jin Yiken looked over at her at this moment. By the time she looked over, his attention had already returned.

But his hand suddenly came over, palm covering her knee.

Warmed for a moment.

She looked at him. He was still watching the screen. But his hand moved to the side of her thigh, pushing a bit in his own direction. Long Qi’s leg suddenly pressed against his, feeling the warm air from his body. Her knee was wrapped in his palm, especially warm. Adrenaline secreted. Her ears felt warm. The drink cup in her hand squeaked.

Done for. Now she just wanted to sleep with him.

The audience in the surrounding row or two glanced over sporadically.

……

Then the entire movie ended. That drink was drunk empty by her. Her leg was also warmed by Jin Yiken. Accompanying the ending song, the lights in the theater came on. People front, back, left and right stood up successively. The girl next to her looked at her again, as if confirming it was her, urgently patting her boyfriend’s arm.

Among the front and back seats, three or two groups of people also noticed, followed by sporadic gasps. Looking at her, looking at Jin Yiken beside her. The surroundings were slightly noisy, but fortunately they were all onlookers. None dared to disturb.

She and Jin Yiken were the last two to exit the theater.

The rain outside was still falling.

Next to the elevator on the fifth floor was a large terrace. She walked while lighting a cigarette. Smoke drifted from her mouth, dispersing in the cool air. The long hair by her hood’s brim blew in the wind. By the elevator still clustered a bunch of couples who hadn’t gotten an elevator yet, restlessly sizing her up. She crossed her arms, standing in front of Jin Yiken.

He was calling a car, also lighting a cigarette.

But the phone signal was poor. Long Qi and he exchanged phones. During this time, she asked: “So going straight to the airport?”

His eyes squinted slightly in the smoke. He nodded.

She looked at his arms, the tattoos at his tiger’s mouth and near his ear: “What do all your tattoos mean? Besides Long Er.”

“Nothing to do.”

“Huh?”

“How’d you get your scar?”

Because she’d raised a question, he finally turned it back on her. He put his own phone in his pocket, hand in pants pocket. Long Qi laughed.

“I self-harmed after you left.”

“You think I believe that?”

“Then you first tell me what the tattoos mean.”

Lifting her forehead, the two gazed at each other asking and answering. The distance was very close. Her hanging fingers could feel the heat from the other’s cigarette tip. Fine rain drifted. Jin Yiken said: “I self-harmed after you left.”

The roughness in Long Qi’s eyes withdrew a bit.

Clearly the same words, but she could especially feel his sentence was true. Like a body rolling over glass shards, stinging painfully. She followed up asking: “Then why didn’t you let me come back?”

Jin Yiken didn’t answer. She walked closer to him one step, their bodies touching. He didn’t retreat. Both their hands holding cigarettes hung at their sides. Smoke quietly burned in the air. She continued asking: “So do you want me to come back now or not?”

Still no answer. So her cigarette fell to the ground. Her palm actively pressed against his, fingers interlocking. He didn’t reject it. She lifted her forehead looking at him, asking again: “Can I come back or not?”

She’d never in her life asked such a sincere question.

Her eyes held light. Fine rain slanted. She kept looking at him. Jin Yiken also lowered his forehead gazing at her. But the phone dinged. A voice prompt announcing the car was successfully called. Without any mood, it interrupted this crucial atmosphere. The interlocked fingers separated. Jin Yiken took out his phone from his pocket. She watched the conspicuous tattoo behind his ear as he turned to the side—like a silent and indifferent answer.

That instant felt somewhat desolate.

The elevator also dinged. The door opened. Couples entered pair by pair.

Rain wetted half her shoulder. She smoothed her hair and walked toward there too.

But Jin Yiken didn’t walk.

Not only did he not walk, he also pulled her elbow, making her whole person’s steps move back to the original place. Her lower back hit the terrace railing. She heard him say: “Go down later.”

“Your car’s already coming.”

“I canceled it.”

“Why?”

Almost at the same time as asking, he said: “You think I took a three-hour flight to come over really just planning to accompany you to watch a movie?”

With these words, fire somewhere surged upward. She asked: “So what else do you want to do?”

“Will you let me do what I want to do?”

“Let you.” Instant reply.

“When I was on the plane, I slept and had a dream with you in it,” he suddenly changed topics, lighting another cigarette. “You got married. I was the best man.”

“What about the groom?”

“Who knows.” He said. “I watched you get married with my own eyes.”

When he said “I,” it carried almost the momentum of saying “this old man.” She asked: “And then?”

“I woke up angry.”

“……”

“I was fucking woken up by you making me angry. You could actually marry someone other than me, and even dared to make me watch the whole thing.”

Oh, so when he just arrived at the hotel, he aggressively sent the two words “come down.” She replied: “But Jin Yiken, you were the one who didn’t want me.”

“Are you trying to circle the topic back?”

Hearing this sentence, she replayed his previous sentence in her head, trying to study what topical difference existed between the two sentences. After, she finally caught “you could actually marry someone other than me.” Her heart shook slightly. Her furrowed brow relaxed. She looked at him.

Even breathing became scorching.

Jin Yiken’s cigarette burned between his fingers. In the process of speaking, he’d already stood within inches of her. Taking another step toward her, the sense of oppression before her became stronger. Behind her was the railing at the terrace edge. Outside the railing was the night view of this island city at three in the morning. Fine rain ethereal. Smoke alluring.

“I had no mind to watch this movie. Your performance these past few days has been too cute. What else do you think I could want to do to you?”

She breathed.

Then he lowered his head.

Long Qi’s hoodie fell backward. Long hair flying. Her hand reached back to support the railing. Her body was pressed by him. Her lips were also unprepared to be pressed. Closely adhering. This expert was becoming increasingly skilled at taking advantage. Her head hadn’t reacted yet. Her heart went numb all at once. Her waist was immediately embraced into his arms. Kissing him in the wind. Passionate kissing. Blocking her so she couldn’t say a word. Until she turned her head aside, slightly gasping, asking: “Do you take responsibility for what you say, Jin Yiken?”

“I do.”

“Then say it again.”

“You crook your finger at me and I come. Being provoked by you like this, if I don’t get back together with you, what else can I do?”

He asked in return.