The Tang family—their wealth rivaled the Yu family. Both were prominent families in high society.

No wonder. When Tang Yingxue first appeared on “Girl Group 101,” she received the most screen time. Among fans at the time, there were even rumors calling her royalty. No wonder she dared to be so confident upon their first meeting. In her eyes, she was a princess, and everyone else was a foot-washing maid.

Yu Jiaze rarely explained patiently, “My relationship with her is just having shared one such meal. The handkerchief was borrowed by her at that time, so I simply replaced it.”

Wu Man stared blankly at the photo, still not recovered.

“The Tang family’s only daughter is not the kind of small-time star who can be casually kept.”

His tone was light, yet like a knife, cutting from her ear to create a massive wound. The Los Angeles wind blew past, but what cut through was the old city from years ago.

That was also a dusk.

Seven-year-old her was practicing leg lifts in the dance studio. Her ligaments had already been strained once. After lifting for a while, she felt like the tendon on her inner thigh was about to snap.

She couldn’t stand the pain anymore and quietly lowered her leg to rest, but was caught red-handed by the teacher who turned around.

The teacher frowned. “All the other children can endure it. Why are you the only one slacking off?”

She raised her head indignantly. “I’m injured!”

The teacher, challenged for the first time, felt stunned, then angry. “If you can’t even endure this much hardship, then quit! I’ll call your parents!”

Hearing “parents,” she flinched, but still kept her neck stiff, refusing to yield.

The other children were picked up by their parents one by one. Only she remained, and her mother finally arrived late.

Her mother pressed down on her head, making her apologize to the teacher.

She pouted. “Don’t you care if I’m in pain?”

Then she heard that woman’s cruel voice—

“In the future, the people you face won’t care if you’re in pain. They’ll only care if you do well. Everyone who shows concern for you is wearing a fake mask.”

“Then what’s so good about being a big star? I don’t want to be a big star!”

She screamed at her with all her might, then ran out limping. But she was quickly caught.

“Only by becoming a big star can your father see you! Let him know how excellent you are—it’s not that he doesn’t want you, but that you don’t want him!”

“Can’t he see me now?”

“Because he’s in a very high place…” She pointed at the backless practice outfit, her finger hovering over that strange birthmark. “And you’re still in the dust.”

With that, she unexpectedly lifted her leg and pulled it hard upward.

That tearing sensation, even after all these years, still left residual pain.

Wu Man gripped her palm tightly, her eyes rolling upward, breathing back and forth before slowly calming down.

She smiled without mirth. “Don’t talk nonsense. How could the noble only daughter of the Tang family be the sister of a small-time star like me who can be casually kept?”

Yu Jiaze held the steering wheel with one hand, the other reaching out to stroke Wu Man’s hair, with a kind of pitying flavor.

“My poor little bird—clearly also a phoenix, yet choosing to roll in the dust and become a crow.”

“You promised me that my relationship with the Tang family would remain a secret known only to the two of us.” She turned her head away in disgust. “In any case, I have no relationship with the Tang family now.”

“Of course you have no relationship with them now.” His hand still domineeringly pursued her. “You just need to stay in my nest.”

“Nest?” This word seemed to hit her funny bone. She clutched her stomach, laughing and laughing until tears came. “Yes, a nest.”

After finishing her laugh, she said coldly, “Stop the car.”

Yu Jiaze refused to listen. The car sped faster and faster, as if heading toward a cliff to crash.

“Are you crazy? Now is not the time for racing!”

The car body seemed about to take flight. Wu Man gripped the seatbelt, her face turning uncontrollably pale.

Yu Jiaze acted as if he hadn’t heard, a careless smile hanging on his lips as his toe pressed down hard again.

The surrounding scenery rapidly retreated, so fast it became a streak of flowing light.

Wu Man didn’t dare grab the steering wheel at this moment. Facing the wind, she quickly closed the car windows, trying to calm Yu Jiaze’s emotions.

“Drive slowly, let’s talk slowly…”

“Nothing will happen.” He spoke lightly, but didn’t accelerate further.

Wu Man finally breathed a slight sigh of relief, feeling a deep sense of powerlessness inside.

Yu Jiaze was also uncontrolled and willful, but that kind of uncontrollability felt completely different from what Zhui Ye brought.

He was a sharp knife dancing in the air—one careless move and you’d be stabbed. While Zhui Ye was fireworks ready to explode at any moment—the scattered sparks couldn’t hurt anyone and could even reveal unexpected scenery.

The moment she zoned out, a car suddenly cut across from the T-intersection, heading straight for Wu Man’s side.

The car was going too fast. With the momentum, even emergency braking would result in a collision.

At this rate, she might be killed on impact.

Terror instantly swept through her entire body. Her mind went blank, leaving only distortion.

The next second, Yu Jiaze’s hands jerked the wheel hard, forcing the car to twist forty-five degrees, missing that car by a hair’s breadth.

Everything happened in a flash.

Losing at one end, gaining at the other—Yu Jiaze’s side couldn’t escape, fiercely crashing into the highway guardrail.

The car body violently shook. Yu Jiaze’s hands bounced off the steering wheel, groping to entwine with hers.

He was still smiling, looking effortless, saying, “Don’t be afraid.”

The next second, he closed his eyes.

*

The vehicle on Yu Jiaze’s side was crushed and deformed. His legs and chest suffered varying degrees of compression. Her side, due to his final maneuver, only sustained minor injuries.

The moment he closed his eyes, Wu Man felt her breathing stop.

That terror was comparable to when she sensed she was about to be hit.

She lowered her eyes to look at those hands that still gripped hers tightly even in unconsciousness, slowly curling back her fingers, murmuring expressionlessly, “…This is all your own doing.”

Unfortunately, madmen’s lives were more precious than ordinary people’s. Though the car was crushed flat, Yu Jiaze was fine. After surgery, he was moved to a hospital room to recuperate.

After finishing her IV drip, Wu Man stayed by his side caring for him until dawn before leaving.

She needed to find time to see someone—this was also her purpose for coming to Los Angeles.

The car took her to a certain nursing home. From afar, she saw the woman who had once been glamorous in her memory, now aged beyond recognition, sitting haggardly on a bench in the sun.

Whether white doves flew past or Wu Man sat beside her, she showed little reaction.

“Mom, I won the Hong Kong Film Award for Best Actress.”

The woman’s eyelids moved slightly.

“The award that slipped through your fingers back then—I won it back for you.” Wu Man leaned back against the chair self-mockingly. “Though I didn’t win it very honorably either.”

The woman lowered her head, playing with her fingernails, completely ignoring her words.

Wu Man didn’t care at all. Or rather, she preferred her not speaking, just listening like this. Because when her consciousness was clear, there were never such tender moments between them.

“I only learned yesterday that Tang Jiarong’s daughter also entered the entertainment industry. She changed her stage name, so I didn’t recognize her.”

“So that’s what she looks like after growing up openly and honorably in high places.” Wu Man closed her eyes, her eyelids trembling slightly. “Nothing special.”

“Oh right, I also met a very interesting kid.”

Wu Man didn’t know what her expression was at this moment. The corners of her mouth curved up slightly, as if melting in the wind.

“Maybe I was too deeply influenced by the role. I clearly found him disagreeable at first… He probably did too. But he’s a natural actor, very immersed, so I think… the emotional impact on him would be much deeper than on me.”

“Besides, he’s too young. Says he’s never been in love. So how could he truly distinguish between liking someone from the heart and liking someone because of getting into character, right?”

She opened her eyes and turned to glance at the woman.

“Mom, have you ever gotten deeply into character? When you couldn’t sort out your own feelings, is it really better not to stay in contact? I don’t know who else to ask.”

Wu Man tossed a coin from her pocket and placed it in the woman’s hand.

“Flip it. If the side that lands shows Washington, I’ll delete him.”

The woman looked at the coin in her hand, drawing close like a child, looking left and right, then finally stuffing it in her pocket.

Wu Man didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Is this your advice to me… telling me to decide for myself?”

*

When Wu Man returned to the hospital, Yu Jiaze had already woken up.

She placed the congee she’d searched all over Los Angeles to buy on the bedside table and sat down asking, “Still uncomfortable?”

Yu Jiaze glanced at her coldly. “I wasn’t really sick to begin with. Woke up to see no one here—almost made myself sick with anger.”

“Then have some plain congee to cool down your temper.”

Wu Man scooped up a spoonful, blew on it to cool it, and fed it to his lips.

Yu Jiaze’s expression eased slightly. After taking a bite, he said, “You went to see her?”

Wu Man hummed. “Still the same.”

What followed was a long silence. The only sound in the hospital room was the spoon stirring.

Wu Man set down the finished congee and carefully wiped Yu Jiaze’s mouth. He suddenly opened his mouth and viciously bit down on her finger.

“Hiss—”

She quickly pulled back her hand. A circle of bite marks appeared on her thumb.

“Does it hurt?”

“…Obviously.”

“When I was hit, it hurt several times more than that.” Yu Jiaze’s deep gaze locked onto her. “I saved your life, little bird.”

Wasn’t it you who insisted on driving so fast courting death?

Wu Man pressed her lips tightly together, lowered her eyes, took out her phone and tossed it into his lap.

Zhui Ye was no longer in her contacts.

Yu Jiaze didn’t look through her phone. He captured that bitten finger, gently blowing on it, and kissed the fingertip.

*

After Yu Jiaze’s condition stabilized, he decided to transfer back to a hospital in Beijing to recuperate. After all, staying in Los Angeles too long would be inconvenient for both of them—they each still had work.

But upon returning to China, the Yu family learned about Yu Jiaze’s car accident.

Wu Man hadn’t seen Yu Jiaze’s father in these ten years, but unexpectedly ran into him at this critical juncture. She had just exited Yu Jiaze’s hospital room when she passed Father Yu in the corridor.

Before this, Father Yu’s face only appeared in major news photos. His expression was always stern and humorless. Wu Man had always suspected he suffered from facial paralysis.

Meeting him in person at this moment, Wu Man finally understood it couldn’t be called facial paralysis.

It was a kind of indifference that put nothing in his eyes, negligent in responding to the world, emanating from his core—completely unmoved. Passing by him was like passing by a decorative rock—imposing, yet utterly lifeless.

*

The hospital room door was pushed open again. Yu Jiaze thought Wu Man had returned, looked up, and his eyelid twitched upon seeing who it was.

He smiled without mirth. “It’s just a minor injury. Why trouble you to make a trip?”

“Not satisfied racing domestically, you had to go race abroad? Even degeneracy has limits!”

Father Yu dismissed his bodyguards and opened with a tirade.

Yu Jiaze rubbed his brow. “Don’t worry, I won’t neglect work.”

“The one who just walked out—is that the small-time star you’ve been keeping around these years?”

Yu Jiaze’s hand paused. “…Yes.”

“After keeping her all these years, still not tired of her?”

“Just keeping her as a little pet, only remembering her occasionally. Can’t say whether I’m tired or not.”

Father Yu’s sharp gaze swept over Yu Jiaze’s unperturbed face, speaking unhurriedly, “Your memory is quite poor. When you were little, you loved that myna bird, spending all day in your room talking to it. Completely neglecting your studies.”

Yu Jiaze’s tone was indifferent. “That was childish foolishness.”

“I see you’re still not much more mature now, not as worry-free as your younger brother.” Father Yu snorted coldly. “That matter I mentioned last time—think it over quickly.”

He stood to leave. Yu Jiaze leaned against the headboard, his gaze turning toward a small bird flying past the branch outside the window.

When he was seven, such a bird had also perched on the birdcage in his room, with bright feathers, far more lovely than this one.

It was a birthday gift from an uncle who said, “This is a myna—it can talk.”

He was both surprised and delighted. It was the only voice accompanying his silent childhood.

Though the myna was quite stupid, only knowing how to say “hello” and nothing else, Yu Jiaze didn’t mind. Whenever his father whipped him, as long as he spoke to it, it would call out “hello,” as if saying, “I know, you still have me.”

The following year’s final exams, he didn’t place first in the entire school. In social comparisons, this embarrassed Father Yu.

His father felt that bird was dragging him down.

He made him bring the bird to the study. Yu Jiaze still remembered—it was also such an afternoon. The sunlight was blindingly bright, as if the world had been painted with a layer of blinding white paint—sticky, oppressive, suffocating.

Father Yu’s normally expressionless face rarely showed anger as he asked, “Do you like this bird?”

He didn’t dare nod.

“Tell the truth.”

“…I like it.”

Father Yu’s fingers tapped lightly on the armrest. Little Yu Jiaze watched those hands suddenly stop and pick up the scissors from the desk.

That large hand gripped the myna’s neck skin and first cut off its tail.

Then its feathers.

Its wings.

With each cut, his myna cried out in pain, “Hello.”

Hello, hello, hello.

Just like when comforting him on ordinary days, it only cried in pain, completely unaware, so foolish.

His young self trembled all over, crying on the spot, yet not daring to snatch back the myna.

Father Yu was self-satisfied, his eyes fixed on him saying, “Child, let me teach you a lesson—things loved too much are easily destroyed. Treat everything with cold eyes. Especially things you cherish.”

He gripped the myna’s neck and walked toward Yu Jiaze, crouched down, pried open his tightly clenched palm, and stuffed the blood-stained scissors inside. “If you can’t treat it with cold eyes, then at least let this thing be destroyed by your own hand. Don’t let it threaten you and then destroy you.”

Yu Jiaze shook his head desperately. He wanted to release his hand, but was firmly enveloped by Father Yu. The more he wanted to retreat, the more his father restrained him.

Eight-year-old him held the heaviest thing in the world. The cold texture of the handle burned into his soul.

Father Yu smiled methodically, increasing pressure, forcing the blade tip he was holding to extend forward.

Yu Jiaze had lost all sensation. Tears hanging on his face, he stared vacantly into the myna’s eyes.

Its last look at him was pure, its pupils clearer than any gemstone he’d ever seen.

With his own hands, he thrust the scissors into the myna’s throat. The final “hello” stopped abruptly.

Father Yu stood up satisfied, tossing the myna’s corpse out the window. “Finally quiet.”

The cicada cries outside the window, no longer covered by bird calls, became clear, as if singing a funeral dirge for someone unknown.

*

Yu Jiaze stared blankly out the window. That bird had already flown away. Just like the myna from memory, as if it had never come.

He withdrew his gaze and picked up the phone from the bedside, dialing a number.

“I need to stay in the hospital for a while—it’s inconvenient to go out. Help me with two things.”

“First, arrange a meeting with Fu Jingya. The company can give her resources to help her transition to full status. Of course, there’s no free lunch in this world.”

“Second…”