After finishing the call with Wu’er, she hung up. Lu Zimu had heard the entire conversation and asked, “Is that Xu Yifen pretty?”

Long Qi wasn’t in the mood to address this question right now. She searched for the electronic copy of the script on her phone. Only after finding it did she reply, “Not bad.”

“You’re concerned about this again?”

Long Ziyi entered the living room from the balcony, mocking with one sentence. Lu Zimu said, “I’ve read that script. The protagonist is an ordinary person, very ordinary. Some of the creative starting points are based on her ordinariness—family background, growth experience, appearance.”

Long Qi looked at her.

She kept talking while still typing, eyes focused intently on the screen. She was quite good at multitasking. Long Qi walked over silently, pulled out the chair opposite her desk, sat down properly, elbows on the table edge. “What do you usually write?”

“Novels.”

“What novels? Have I read them?”

“You wouldn’t like them. Serious literature.”

“She has written several scripts though,” Long Ziyi was speaking. Long Qi turned to listen. “Scripts make more money, and she has the ability, but she insists on coming back to write novels. Good thing I’m not cruel—what I earn in one month can feed her for half a year. Otherwise, with that pittance of manuscript fees, she’d be gnawing book covers.”

“What dramas has she written? Have I seen them?”

“That was early on. You were still in middle school then.”

Long Qi continued looking at Long Ziyi, quite persistent. Only then did she say, “There was one called ‘Barren something’ that sold quite well.”

“‘Barren Yet Not Arriving,'” Lu Zimu finally picked up the conversation. “It sold well because of the actors, nothing to do with the script. That was originally a discarded draft.”

“The one Yan Wenjing acted in?” Long Qi turned back. “Her breakthrough role?”

“Oh my, daughter, you actually watch those weird-toned art films.”

Long Ziyi’s sentence really didn’t make clear whether she was mocking her or Lu Zimu. As she spoke, she hung clothes on the balcony without turning her head. But Lu Zimu was used to it and replied in a breezy tone, “Yes, that one. It was quite early—Yan Wenjing hadn’t changed her name yet. She still had the surname Si.”

Surname Si.

Long Qi leaned back against the chair.

She didn’t know if it was because she suddenly discovered Lu Zimu’s image had become impressive, or because this sentence inadvertently containing so much information had caught her off guard, connecting certain things together. The standing air conditioner in the living room hissed. When Jin Yiken first brought her to the Yiming Bay apartment, his phrase “female celebrities like it” belatedly rushed into her mind. And that time in high school when she had a verbal spat with Si Bolin over aesthetic issues, his overwhelming response “my sister is prettier than you” also slid out from memory along with the cool air, whooshing through.

So.

Round and round, it was all within this circle.

Afterward, without continuing this topic, she placed her hand back on the table edge again. “Then from a creator’s perspective, for the protagonist in Wu’er’s script, do you think I’m suitable?”

“You’re not suitable.”

“Where am I not suitable?”

“You’re too pretty.”

“Wu’er said the same thing, but I can go without makeup.”

“My daughter being good-looking is my fault now?”

Long Ziyi chose this exact moment to interject. Long Qi turned back. “Mom, this really isn’t your fault.”

A bra dripping with water immediately flew over from that side. She shifted aside—it missed. Lu Zimu continued, “It’s not about superficial appearance. Whether male or female, people with outstanding conditions and those naturally plain face different social realities, forming different growth experiences. I ask you—do you make friends particularly quickly?”

Long Qi was still digesting her previous sentence.

“In other words,” she asked again, “from childhood until now, have you ever had the experience of proactively befriending others?”

“Very rarely.”

“The other way around?”

“Quite often.”

“Right. Precisely because others want to get to know you first, you rarely have the need to proactively get to know others, and therefore don’t have those psychological processes. The nervousness and awkwardness that ordinary people experience—you can’t feel it. There’s a scene in the script where the protagonist has just entered university and is communicating with classmates. They’re all people from all over the place. The words and phrases seem quite casual on the surface, but actually, each one is feedback based on the other person’s reaction, subconsciously leaving a good impression in the other person’s mind. This is the protagonist’s first time leaving small-town life to face a small-scale society. The eyes, facial expressions, tone—they seem meaningless but actually must be very meaningful.”

…

Three seconds later, she replied, “So that scene means this?”

“What did you think, little treasure?”

“Quite interesting.”

“Although you’re not suitable, you can adapt.”

Both her hands propped up her chin. “How do I adapt?”

“Forget your prettiness. For example, right now,” Lu Zimu’s gaze finally moved from the laptop screen, scanning her once, “you’re unconsciously showing off your prettiness right now, wanting me to teach you a bit more.”

Long Qi turned back to look at Long Ziyi. Long Ziyi wasn’t mocking anyone now, sitting on the sofa folding clothes with an expression of “the person I chose is pretty awesome, right?” She didn’t speak anymore.

Convinced.

After that, she lived obediently at Lu Zimu’s place.

Jin Yiken had cut off all her work. No matter how unhappy she felt inside, she stubbornly resisted going to provoke him, not giving him half a reaction, not even showing emotion to Lao Ping’s side. Almost all her energy was devoted to school classes. That was also a relatively busy time. She wasn’t a boarding student, leaving at dawn and returning at dusk, gradually returning to student life. As for Yiming Bay, although she didn’t return, she arranged for the cleaning lady to come every Wednesday, also helping her bring back some clothes.

At the end of April, from news heard from Ban Wei—Jin Yiken had returned to England.

That ancestor had finally gone back to England.

The sky was high and the emperor was far away. He finally didn’t have designs on the “Cold Cicada” film promotion schedule. And to balance the fan community’s mindset, Lao Ping began intensifying previews of her schedule. Xu Yifen’s fame gradually rose by relying on those highly focused resources. Lao Ping’s public relations work was well done—those who didn’t know thought she was painstakingly mentoring a newcomer. In any case, the fan circles and media believed it. Temporarily, no chaos emerged.

Those childish yet arrogant little thoughts, love and resentment and certain deep-seated longings, all became buried deeper and deeper as April’s last wave of cold air retreated. But the more unattended they were, the more they itched unbearably.

After enduring half a month, mid-May finally arrived.

The first stop for film promotion was still that island city. The remaining cities’ schedules, according to actors’ availability, were respectively finalized for June and July.

The crew reassembled. Inevitably, she encountered people like Zhou Yicong and Wu Jiakui. Wu Jiakui was currently filming “Border.” Her whole person was even thinner than during the “Cold Cicada” filming period—working quite hard. Whether that fight between her and Jin Yiken had any eventual turning point, Long Qi didn’t know. In any case, her mouth was still sharp. Even though she’d spoken up for her online, the first sentence upon meeting was still, “You came? Long time no see. Thought you’d withdrawn from the industry.”

Zhou Yicong stood behind her. Also hearing Wu Jiakui’s rather interesting taunt, he scratched his nose tip with his finger, not planning to wade into their muddy waters. He shifted a few steps aside, pretending to discuss matters with his agent. Long Qi stood at the front with arms crossed, not turning back. “You went to film in the mountains, right?”

The press conference was arranged in the lobby of a seaside art gallery. The director and male lead Zang Xipu were already on stage. Below, media and fans filled the entire audience. She wore an ice-blue spaghetti-strap gown waiting backstage. Wu Jiakui wore a light green off-shoulder gown with a short silver chain around her neck, smiling. “Right, finally emerged from the mountains. So what have you been busy with? Deep learning exchanges?”

This sentence fell with a smile. Long Qi turned her head to look at her. The host on stage was just calling her out. Below, applause thundered. Wu Jiakui released her crossed arms, pretending to clap along, making eye contact with her—an attitude of “come on, if you have the ability, deal with me right now.”

She didn’t deal with her.

Too lazy to respond, at the backstage staff’s invitation, she went on stage. Walking from behind the scenes to the front, light moved across her body. Her expression also shifted from cool to a slight smile. Media photographed, the audience applauded. The director sitting in the main creative section drank some water. Zang Xipu looked in her direction.

Fang Xuan had also come to support Wu Jiakui, sitting bored in the front row of the audience, barely honoring the occasion by clapping along as she came up.

Afterward, the press conference proceeded orderly under a streamlined model, with main actors appearing one after another. The whole event’s climax should have been when the production team released the trailer. A passionate scene between Long Qi and Zang Xipu occupied two seconds—flashing by briefly, but the shot transitions were extremely impactful, drawing a wave of low exclamations. Her personal shots were also explosive—grabbing food on a ferry, secretly observing a murder scene in a back alley, being interrogated, being tortured, fleeing through traffic, and finally making a desperate counterattack in a mind-bending showdown. The trailer’s final shot was also her close-up—under the winter dock, alone with her back to the turbulent sea, eyes open, breathing, the camera rapidly pulling back and expanding, coming to an abrupt halt.

The venue erupted in thunderous applause.

Quite successful.

That afternoon, after the reporter interviews ended, she went to the beach in front of her hotel, changed into a white beach dress, and sat under a parasol by a palm tree drinking afternoon tea. The press conference lasted one day. The remainder consisted mostly of individual interviews. Crew members returned who were returning, rushed to other venues who were rushing. She had no work arrangements. Lao Ping was sending her messages, confirming Wu’er’s audition arrangements. After reading them, she didn’t reply. When exiting the chat window, she received another message from Ban Wei asking if Wu Jiakui was still with her and to send him a location.

She asked if he was coming over.

Ban Wei replied: She recently plunged into the mountains for that drama. Finally emerged once—even if I have to risk my life, I must see her.

She typed: The press conference address is posted on the official Weibo. The hotel address is circulating in fan circles. Figure it out yourself.

After sending this paragraph, the empty wooden chair across from her was just pulled out. Following the sound, she looked up. Zang Xipu sat down in front of her.

Assistant Wang wasn’t following beside him.

She sat in place without moving, lazily turning her phone. Although Zang Xipu sat down, his gaze still wandered to the reporter interview area not far away. Only as he settled did it return to her. “Haven’t been resting well lately?”

“Mm?”

Question aside, following his gaze, she saw the strong coffee on the table. He indicated with his chin. “You don’t usually drink much coffee.”

“To refresh myself. I get sleepy easily once summer comes, especially these past few days.”

The deep blue sea horizon was illuminated brilliantly by sunlight. Her shoulders and collarbones were nearly glowing. Wearing a ruffled tube top that fluttered with the sea breeze, people were playing volleyball on the beach. Near the sea were three or four yachts, also the sound of jet ski waves rushing past. Zang Xipu looked at her.

“Does Teacher Zang also want to ask how I’ve been lately?”

“Do my eyes look like they’re saying that?”

She smiled.

He said, “I do have a question for you, but not that one.”

“What question?”

“That car show you participated in during high school—did you end up getting paid?”

Her elbow rested on the chair’s armrest. After hearing this, after about three seconds of imperceptible recollection, she said, “Later I participated in other activities. Several payments came through around the same time. I don’t remember.”

“I remember.”

…

“You wore a black dress that day, had dyed your hair—slightly teal. You got into a conflict at the southwest corner of the exhibition center. A girl alone, you didn’t occupy any disadvantage at all. You saw through the shirking-responsibility tactics point by point. You wouldn’t let anyone touch you—if anyone moved you, you’d call the police. That sleazy boss who took advantage of you was even more embarrassed. He couldn’t out-talk you, couldn’t fight you, didn’t dare utter a word.”

“I glanced at you once. The host just asked me a question. When I wanted to look at you a second time, you’d already left. Afterward, I learned about your situation. The wages owed to you should have been transferred to your card that very evening. I also recognized you on the opening ceremony day. The reason I didn’t mention it,” his elbow came onto the table edge, saying, “was because I wasn’t sure whether you’d be happy to accept such a first meeting.”

Long Qi’s fingers tapped lightly on her dress.

The sunshine was brilliant. Zang Xipu made eye contact with such a her, the affection in his eyes not concealed at all. The parasol swayed with the wind, rustling and swishing. Before she could speak, he said again, “But Long Qi, any information I transmit to you, just listen. Don’t take it to heart, don’t make a response. I’m quite happy to accompany your growth. I also have patience to accompany your growth.”

After these words, she really didn’t know what to say. It then became a breath, slowly inhaled into her lungs, and she also adjusted her sitting posture.

“Has Wu’er contacted you recently?”

The topic shift was perfectly timed.

“No,” she picked up. “That bastard investing money…”

She paused, rephrasing, “That person investing money is attending classes in England, no time to return. The audition has been suppressed by him. Without his presence, it can’t proceed.”

“I have an investment on hand. I also appreciate Wu’er’s script. If you don’t mind, I can interfere a bit.”

Zang Xipu said this.

But she knew she shouldn’t accept these words. The sea breeze blew—a bit sunny. She brushed the long hair by her forehead. From the side came a voice, “Uncle?”

Quite sudden.

She turned her head. Zang Xipu also looked toward the sound.

But the moment their gazes met, a conditioned reflex sigh emerged in her heart: “Can this circle get any fucking smaller?” She sat in place, while this person Zang Siming stood on the beach five meters away—over 1.8 meters tall, wearing a tank top and beach shorts, accompanied by a slender, fair-skinned girl. His gaze moved from Zang Xipu to her, also quickly recognizing her. Presumably having the same sigh, he sneered—a sound of “heh”—his shoulders and arms moving.

“Long Qi, huh.”

As he spoke, he walked over uninvited. She withdrew her attention to look at Zang Xipu. Zang Xipu introduced, “My nephew, Zang Siming.”

…

“I was just wondering whose back looked so familiar.” Zang Siming was completely impolite, pulling out a chair to sit, then lifting his chin toward that girl. The girl took a seat beside Long Qi. Long Qi’s hand gently rubbed her forehead, making eye contact with him across the table.

If Gu Mingdong was the black mark in Jin Yiken’s circle, then conversely, Zang Siming was the malignant tumor within Si Bolin’s circle.

He was also a young master, but happened to be the dandy playboy type—full of bad habits. His looks were passable, but chronic disorderly private life led to a consistently kidney-deficient appearance. He’d had designs on Wuzi for a long time. He even wanted to pursue Long Qi. But when Jin Yiken and Si Bolin were around, he couldn’t get anywhere with either side. Once, he verbally took advantage of her and got dealt with by Jin Yiken. He also privately asked Wuzi out and received humanitarian education from Si Bolin. But he never learned his lesson time after time. Later, somehow his taste changed and he started provoking small-time actresses, gradually fading from this circle. But this person was still alive.

Yes, just brazenly living until now, bearing the title of best actor’s nephew, on this beautiful sunny day, appearing before her.

Why hadn’t she thought of this before?

But there were also traces to follow. If Zang Xipu was on good terms with Yan Wenjing, and Yan Wenjing was indeed Si Bolin’s sister, then Si Bolin and Zang Siming could naturally come into contact with each other—naturally they were people of the same circle.

“So this is the nephew Teacher Zang mentioned who pursues girls through gaming?” She asked.

Zang Siming was still familiarly calling the server to order drinks. Zang Xipu said, “You know each other?”

Although this person Zang Siming was cheap, his emotional intelligence was still online. He jumped in to answer, “Friend of a friend. Met at gatherings. What a coincidence right now. Uncle, what were you talking about? Something about growth?”

He’d heard that part.

“Vacationing here?” Zang Xipu didn’t answer directly.

“Yes, vacationing.” He immediately turned to Long Qi. “Where’s Jin Yiken? Last time I saw you, you were still sitting on his lap.”

Fuck his bullshit emotional intelligence.

“Really? I remember you sending me game record screenshots every day. After being added to the blacklist, you got so angry you came to my house to block me. That was the last time we actually met, right?”

The girl beside her didn’t speak, but her chest rose and fell. Long Qi didn’t continue. Zang Xipu looked at her. Zang Siming pointed at Long Qi. “Uncle, you didn’t fall for her, did you?”

“Hand.”

He withdrew his hand, but his manner was still cheap. He laughed a few times. Assistant Wang just arrived, leaning down to speak beside Zang Xipu—attending a previously scheduled magazine interview. As Zang Xipu stood up, he looked at Zang Siming. “Come with me.”

Oh, going to be lectured.

Long Qi propped her forehead, watching Zang Siming follow Zang Xipu away, quite satisfied. The girl beside her then said to her, “Hello.”

She turned her head.

The girl was quite pretty, quite sexy, wearing a light blue bikini with a long cardigan draped over it. Long Qi casually nodded. “Are you his girlfriend?”

“Friends, I guess.”

Saying “friends” might really mean friends, but adding that “I guess” afterward—considering Zang Siming’s character, she could roughly guess what kind of relationship it was. She said nothing. The girl asked, “Are you his ex-girlfriend?”

“No.”

“He mentioned you to me before.”

“Probably the kind of mentioning where he badmouths me a few times when seeing me on TV.”

The girl immediately said no, but couldn’t explain what it was. At this moment, the phone on the table rang. Wu’er calling. The girl brushed her forehead to avoid the conversation. Long Qi answered the phone. Wu’er’s opening sentence was, “Are you in the Yanji Bay area?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, that person from England has time now. Landing tomorrow night. Booked villa number 1006 at Yanji Bay. The audition will be held there. I’ve also notified Uncle Ping about Xu Yifen’s side. Are you ready, Long Qi?”

Her heart suspended for a moment. She asked, “So sudden?”

“I also just received the information. He said people can go there first. Since you’re already in this area, go there first. I won’t arrive until the day after tomorrow.”

“…Okay.”

“Not bad, you,” a voice burst through from behind. Zang Siming, having finished being lectured, returned. She turned to look. Zang Xipu had left. As she hung up the phone, Zang Siming pulled out a chair, butt dropping down, crossing his legs, true colors revealed. “You can even hook up with my uncle.”

But right now she wasn’t in the mood to share space with him. She stood up to leave. He raised his voice behind her, shouting, “Leaving already? Not even thanking me? If I hadn’t said those things, my uncle wouldn’t have felt awkward and left early.”

“If you don’t want me to become your aunt in the future and boss you around every day, don’t provoke me. To deal with you, I’m willing to sacrifice myself without hesitation.”

“So you saying you and Jin Yiken completely broke up?”

She didn’t answer. Zang Siming made a tsk sound. “Does that mean I can pursue you again?”

Having just walked five steps, she turned back at this sentence. Her gaze unconsciously fell on the girl sitting across from him. That girl still sat there quietly with no reaction. She replied to Zang Siming, “Don’t act crazy.”

Zang Siming laughed heartily.

And that afternoon, she was restless. After returning to her room, Lao Ping also called. He’d been managing Xu Yifen recently. After hearing the news, he asked if her hotel still had room availability. This came so suddenly, he couldn’t book a room.

“The audition is the day after tomorrow. Why come tonight?”

“I’m in a neighboring city anyway. Coming over is just over an hour. Saves rushing around in one day.”

She originally wanted to blurt out “who wants to help her find rooms,” but smoothed her breath and replied, “Didn’t you say 1006 can already be occupied? Why look for a hotel?”

“Can move in tonight? Didn’t hear that. Isn’t it tomorrow?”

“She can stay or not.”

She hung up, then received another incoming call. Ban Wei’s. She answered irritably. Ban Wei was in high spirits. “YO! What’s your room number? I’m almost there!”

“Where?”

“At your hotel.”

“You really came?”

The room door was knocked on. She really thought it was Ban Wei, but upon opening saw Fang Xuan wearing a punk ripped T-shirt. This person was quite familiar—munching an apple, entering uninvited. “Hey, I’ve decided, Long Qi. Let’s go eat crayfish tonight. This place makes amazing crayfish.”

Walking to the entrance, seeing the half-packed suitcase, chewing while asking, “You’re leaving?”

“I’ll tell you later.” After replying to Ban Wei, she addressed Fang Xuan. “Next time I’ll eat with you.”

“Next time again? No way, you little bitch, you’re really good at stalling. Who are you on the phone with?”

Because she didn’t acknowledge Fang Xuan, her path forward was blocked by Fang Xuan’s raised foot. She leaned against the wall munching her apple—a complete female hooligan look insisting on getting to the bottom of things. Ban Wei was also making noise on the other end. Long Qi pressed speakerphone. Ban Wei’s voice burst out. “Just tell me now. I’m really anxious to see Jiakui. Miss her to death!”

Fang Xuan heard this now.

Three seconds later, “Holy shit,” withdrew her foot and rushed out of the room. “Going to report. See ya.”

She closed the room door. Ban Wei asked over there, “Who?”

“Fang Xuan. Going to report to Wu Jiakui. Wu Jiakui’s room number is 1201. She hasn’t left yet. Okay, I’ve done my utmost duty.”

Hung up.

An hour later, after checking out, wearing a cool spaghetti-strap dress, pulling her suitcase through the lobby, walking while searching Yanji Bay villa number 1006 on her phone. Not far from here—at the other end of the bay, fifteen minutes by car.

But cars here were quite hard to hail. After waiting for a long time without getting one, she actually waited until Lao Ping arrived. When his van stopped in front of her, seeing Xu Yifen’s silhouette sitting inside the vehicle, she silently sighed in her heart. Lao Ping lowered the passenger window. “Why aren’t you replying to WeChat messages? Get in, ancestor. We have to go together.”

No reply. She stood wordlessly beside the suitcase. Lao Ping got out of the car to persuade her. Following that, the van door opened. Xu Yifen, wearing a vintage off-shoulder long dress, holding her neckline, got out and came before her. Before Lao Ping could speak, she first properly lowered her forehead. “Qiqi.”

Shiny black long hair slid down from her shoulder. The hotel doorman glanced this way. Long Qi looked at such a her, still standing in place. At this moment, another Land Rover pulled up beside them. With a honk, the driver’s window rolled down. She and Lao Ping looked over. Fang Xuan leaned out. “Hey, you’re leaving? How long have you been standing here? Did you see Ban Wei?”

Beside Fang Xuan, she could see Wu Jiakui sitting in the passenger seat. The person wasn’t looking this way, raised knees against the car’s dashboard, concentrating intently on typing on her phone keyboard.

“Playing hide and seek?”

With this teasing sentence, Wu Jiakui turned her head, looking at her, then at the person in front of her. Then, as if recognizing the waist-length-haired Xu Yifen, her mouth began smiling again. “I heard about something fun. Always wanted to participate but never knew the date. Today I just happened to run into it so coincidentally.”

“What fun thing?” Fang Xuan turned back to ask.

“Want to watch?”

“Yes.”

Wu Jiakui laughed out loud. “Uncle Ping.”

“Ah?”

Lao Ping immediately responded. He heard Wu Jiakui say, “I requested three days off from the crew. Very free these next few days. I know you have an audition. I also know Director Wu’er. I’ll mention it to her. If she agrees, can you let me tag along to watch?”

Long Qi’s gaze darkened toward Lao Ping’s direction, but Lao Ping, this smooth operator, facing Wu Jiakui’s silver tongue, almost immediately responded, “Sure.”

“Then our car will follow?”

“Follow then.”

…

After Lao Ping responded to Wu Jiakui’s side, he looked at her with a tsk sound. Xu Yifen kept her forehead lowered before her the whole time. The doorman not far away kept glancing. Lao Ping made eye signals. Long Qi now had nothing to say. She let out a bland heh, pushed the suitcase toward him, folded past Xu Yifen with crossed arms, and got in the car.

Inside the car, Xu Yifen had actually left the main seat she’d been sitting in for her. After she sat down, she started putting on headphones and said to Lao Ping, “Don’t talk to me. I’m quite sleepy right now.”

…

Afterward, throughout the journey, there was indeed no communication in the car. But that villa number 1006 was on the mountain. The mountain road wound around curves, making her a bit carsick. She kept wanting to vomit, didn’t sleep much. Fang Xuan’s driving technique was stable though—perhaps supported by a powerful impulse to watch the excitement, she followed very closely, sometimes driving even faster than Lao Ping’s car. After enduring fifteen minutes, they finally arrived. The car passed through a tree-lined path and stopped in front of a large villa.

This house was situated on the mountainside—three stories high, Tuscan style, backed by mountains facing the sea. The scenery was particularly beautiful. When getting out of the car at exactly six in the evening, standing on the first step, one could see the entire bay below the mountain, also the summer dusk sea horizon—brilliantly golden.

But the villa door was tightly closed.

Originally, Wu’er said they could move in early, so she thought there was butler service. But after pressing the doorbell dozens of times with no response, Lao Ping asked her, “Did Wu’er really tell you that you could move in early? You didn’t mishear?”

“I didn’t mishear.”

“But she didn’t tell me. This house doesn’t look like check-in procedures have been completed either.”

She asked, “What did Wu’er tell you?”

“Clearly and plainly said the day after tomorrow.”

Wu Jiakui and Fang Xuan were quite clever. Right now was the hottest time. Before the door opened, they stayed in the car with the AC on. Long Qi leaned against the door. After hearing Lao Ping’s words, she was seventy percent certain Jin Yiken was playing her. No expression on her face, she replied, “Then how do we solve this? We’ve already come. The rooms down the mountain have been checked out of.”

“How about this—there’s a butler service center down the mountain. I’ll go there to check. Are you coming?”

“Not going. Carsick. Take Fang Xuan’s car. Yours struggles on mountain roads.”

“Okay.”

Lao Ping went over and said a few words. Fang Xuan’s loud voice came out. “Hey, Uncle Ping, with your driving skills, forget it. I’ll take you. Otherwise, by the time you get back, it’ll be dark!”

Wu Jiakui never got out of the car. Lao Ping got in the back seat, waved to Long Qi’s side, and left with Fang Xuan’s car.

Xu Yifen stayed in the van reading the script.

By the entrance was a wooden swing. Feeling going to the car was boring, she sat on the swing. In the mountain wilderness, there was the ethereal sound of sea breeze passing through leaves. Her right foot hung down, left knee bent. She leaned against the swing looking at new messages Ban Wei sent. He’d missed his target and was extremely anxious now, continuously trying to get Wu Jiakui’s new location. Long Qi replied: If I send you the location, you better have the ability to get her away.

—Absolutely.

Ban Wei replied.

She sent him a real-time location.

Afterward, she felt sleepy again.

Looking at the van, Xu Yifen was quite serious, still delving into the script, not paying attention here. She turned sideways to lean against the swing’s backrest, opened her phone, and found the full electronic script that Lu Zimu had annotated and sent her.

But after reading for just a few minutes, she still couldn’t hold on. She simply propped her forehead and dozed off for a bit. Twenty minutes passed unknowingly this way. The sun set in the west, the sky darkened. She was awakened by mosquito bites. By then, her patience had completely worn out. She brushed her hair. At the same time, car headlights finally shone from the tree-lined path, sweeping across her shoulders and body.

Squinting to look over, she discovered it wasn’t Fang Xuan’s Land Rover. Her impatience level rose again. In her mind, she mocked Fang Xuan’s driving skills once, still lazily leaning against the swing.

But that car stopped in front of the villa. She propped her forehead, looking tiredly. As the car door opened with a click, Jin Yiken, wearing a black T-shirt, got out.

Tree leaves rustled in the forest, sea breeze blew. The collar of his T-shirt swayed slightly. He closed the door behind him—another bang. Long Qi looked, slowly releasing the hand propping her forehead. His body had a layer of golden light gilded by the evening glow. His gaze fell on her—no sense of unexpected encounter, as if he already knew she was here. He rounded the car hood and walked toward her, left hand in pocket, tattooed right hand holding a string of keys that jingled as he climbed the stairs, making her whole heart float more and more. She blurted out, “Aren’t you supposed to arrive tomorrow night?”

But this bastard Jin Yiken seemed to think this wasn’t any kind of issue at all. From getting out of the car to ascending the steps, he kept looking at her. The damn guy seemed even more handsome. Not until only three steps remained between them did his steps slightly pause as a second beam of car headlights suddenly swept across the entrance.

He turned his head.

“YO!” The person’s voice arrived before them. On the tree-lined path, Ban Wei’s head poked out from the driver’s seat, driving an SUV, raising his hand high to greet them this way. Long Qi was stunned. His car was closely followed by Fang Xuan’s Land Rover. Most magically, behind the Land Rover was another fucking car she didn’t even know whose it was. This whole group of people came in mighty force. Car headlights also swept over beam by beam, as if by agreement illuminating the entrance area as bright as day, interrupting the answer Jin Yiken was about to give her, also interrupting the overwhelming ambiguity of the previous second.