Chapter 3

Ni Kailun said, “Come by in the afternoon to sign something.”

Ni Kailun had secretly taken care of all the preliminary procedures, just waiting for Xi Tang’s final signature. After Xi Tang found out, she remained silent for a long time, and Ni Kailun knew that she wouldn’t agree.

The next day, Xi Tang met Guo Tianjun at the company.

He only brought a secretary with him, who placed the documents on the table before stepping out.

Guo Tianjun wore a pair of half-frame glasses, still the same elegant, mature figure he had been in the past. Smiling, he said, “Tang Tang, long time no see.”

When Xi Tang saw him, she couldn’t maintain her serious demeanor.

He was the first CFO of Jingchuang Technology, and later left to start his own business. Now, he was a partner at a well-known accounting firm in Beijing. What surprised Xi Tang was that he was still working as a personal financial advisor for Zhao Pingjin.

When Jingchuang was established in Zhongguancun, it only had one office, which Zhao Pingjin had bought before leaving for studies abroad. The living room was used as an office, and the bedroom was just a large communal bed where they took turns sleeping. It was as messy as a pigsty. Back then, Xi Tang often worked as a secretary and cooked for them, helping clean up the house alongside Zhao Pingjin’s girlfriend.

Later, Xi Tang left Beijing, and they never met again.

Guo Tianjun took the initiative to mention, “Has Zhou Zhou told you? Cheng Rong and I got married, and our child is over four years old.”

Xi Tang was happy for them and asked with a smile, “Boy or girl?”

Guo Tianjun replied, “A girl.”

He took out his phone and showed her a picture.

Guo Tianjun was a clever man—he avoided discussing business and focused on catching up with the past.

The two of them talked about what had happened since they last met. Guo Tianjun mentioned that Cheng Rong had been watching her TV dramas, and she had just finished watching the one where Xi Tang played the Grand Princess. She knew he was coming, and had wanted to come along, but their daughter had been clingy. He also asked if Xi Tang had been busy lately, and seeing that she was gradually letting her guard down, Guo Tianjun said, “Xi Tang, don’t be too hard on yourself. This is what you deserve.”

The property had an excellent location, the best layout, and came with a garden balcony. The owner had bought it as an investment and left it empty for over a year, waiting for the right price, but it had never been sold. It was easy to imagine how high the price must have been.

Guo Tianjun noticed she remained silent and pushed aside the contract documents on the table. Leaning slightly forward in her direction, his tone softened: “When the company completed its Series A financing, he set aside 5% of the equity for you in the options pool. He signed the transfer contract, but after you suddenly broke up, he never mentioned it again. I thought he had forgotten, but now that I’m here, I realize he never really let go.”

Guo Tianjun, still acting professionally, advised her, “The exercise price for the first batch of employees, in today’s Jingchuang, would be enough to buy more than just a property like this.”

Xi Tang had never thought about taking shares in his company, and since she had already left the company years ago, discussing it now felt distant. She simply said, “I don’t want his things. I’m not after this.”

Guo Tianjun looked at her. Though she had become colder and more mature, for a moment, a flash of stubbornness crossed her face, exactly as it had before. Even though he had seen all kinds of human nature, he couldn’t help but feel a little regretful at that moment, though he wasn’t sure if it was for her or for Zhao Pingjin. In the end, he gently said, “He knows. He just wants you to be well.”

Xi Tang ultimately signed the contract.

Ni Kailun entered to see him off, smiling as she said, “Mr. Zhao is truly generous.”

Her words were both praise and subtle criticism, with a hidden danger beneath.

Guo Tianjun had already caught wind of the situation and knew that this agent wasn’t to be trifled with. He simply smiled calmly and said, “Goodbye, Miss Ni.”

Xi Tang’s feelings were complicated.

The apartment was very comfortable. She bought new furniture and brought her mother over from Xianju to live with her.

This was the first time in nearly eight years—since she left home to study in Beijing and the chaotic days she spent isolated in the hospital—that mother and daughter could live together again.

Xi Tang had remodeled the kitchen with the best equipment, with both Chinese and Western cooking utensils. She also took a day to accompany her mother to Jiuguang Mall to buy a complete set of porcelain dishes.

Xi Tang knew that her mother liked these things.

After years of a difficult life, her mother would, in the evening after closing her small shop, prepare a dish of dried tofu and slowly warm a pot of Shaoxing wine in a rough blue-and-white porcelain bowl, always keeping it clean.

When Ni Kailun first came to their home for dinner and tasted her mother’s cooking, she ate two full bowls of rice and then followed her mother around all evening, showering her with compliments.

With her extravagant words of flattery, Ni Kailun had become her mother’s new favorite. Every time Xi Tang came home, her mother would always ask, “Did you invite Miss Ni for dinner?”

Xi Tang’s contract was still with the company, and the company had her booked for a full schedule of acting contracts, taking a commission from her work, leaving her little free time.

Sometimes, when Xi Tang was too busy, Ni Kailun would drive her mother to various places. Ni Kailun treated her mother with great courtesy, and to prevent her from feeling lonely at home, she enrolled her in a senior citizens’ university. Her mother went there every day, where she danced with elderly people and practiced calligraphy.

The night she returned to Shanghai, it was New Year’s Eve. After the fireworks over the Huangpu River, the new year arrived in January. Since her new drama hadn’t started filming yet, Xi Tang stayed at Ni Kailun’s house, reading scripts.

Living under someone else’s roof and understanding the need to be gracious, she never expressed her emotions. At that time, her assistant was still Xiao Ning. Xi Tang often gave her time off, and when she got tired of reading the scripts, she would go to the subway on her own. The publicity for The Last Princess He Shuo hadn’t started yet, and Xi Tang was still an unknown actress. Ni Kailun was too busy to manage her schedule every day, so she would take the subway to Waibaidu Bridge, blending into the crowd of noisy tourists, looking at the murky Suzhou Creek, hunched over, silently smoking a cigarette.

Ni Kailun was afraid she might jump into the river.

A few days later, she got a new assistant, Ah Kuan. Ah Kuan was diligent and followed her everywhere. Time passed quickly, but to those immersed in it, it felt long. Xi Tang remembered the 8th day when Ni Kailun arranged for her to go to Hangzhou. The schedule was packed: morning publicity, lunch photoshoot, afternoon recording, and a business engagement in the evening. From morning till night, exhausted and having drunk quite a bit, she returned to the hotel and fell straight to sleep.

The next day, she woke up, sitting on the bed in the hotel, confused. Her head was throbbing, her hair disheveled, her eyes swollen and dark. She realized the first weekend of the new year had already passed in a flash.

Xi Tang felt cold all over, shivering, frozen in place on the disordered bed, but she understood in her heart that she was finally safe.

A week later, she started filming. The set was like a world unto itself, isolating them from the outside, creating a small, lively world. Ni Kailun pushed her forward with a packed schedule, and before she knew it, summer had arrived.

The memory of that snowy winter in Beijing passed quickly, as fleeting as a blurry figure seen briefly at a subway platform.

Ni Kailun took her to Luming Bookstore.

Xi Tang wore a brown, narrow-brimmed woven hat and a black mask when they got out of the car. Her long hair covered half her face.

There weren’t many people in the bookstore, some of them were elderly professors with gray hair, and the environment was quiet, allowing Xi Tang to relax.

Ni Kailun led her to the contemporary literature shelf, picking out books left and right, gathering a large stack.

She turned and shoved the books into Xi Tang’s hands.

Xi Tang used her left hand to steady the pile, but her right arm couldn’t hold them, and she nearly dropped everything. She braced her elbow against her body to steady herself, then looked at the books and put one back on the shelf.

“I already have this one.”

“Hmm, this one too, but not this version.”

“This one in traditional Chinese is fine, I’ll take a look at it.” Ni Kailun then pulled her over to the history section.

Xi Tang quietly followed behind and asked, “Why do you want to read this?”

Ni Kailun said, “Tang Yasun’s new film. The script passed review last week, and they’ve received filming permission.”

Xi Tang’s eyes brightened slightly at the mention of this.

Tang Yasun was a filmmaker who had become highly successful for his ability to tell Chinese-style stories. He was considered a milestone in the journey of Chinese cinema after the country’s liberation.

Tang Yasun had graduated from Xi Tang’s alma mater’s literature department. Xi Tang had watched all his films repeatedly, and in the film academy, his works were also classic teaching materials in acting classes.

It had been nearly four years since his last film, No One Receives the Letters, and the industry had been saying that he was working on a script, though it had been kept confidential.

Ni Kailun’s eyes gleamed with ambition: “You should prepare yourself. Tang’s films are known for being picky about actors. It’s said that this time, they couldn’t find a suitable newcomer for the female lead, so they might hold auditions with actresses who are right for the role in mainland China.”

Xi Tang felt a little excited, but she was more pessimistic than Ni Kailun. She knew how difficult it would be.

Ni Kailun, always ambitious, said, “It’s always worth a try.”

Xi Tang nodded and said, “Why don’t you go have a coffee and wait for me?”

Ni Kailun replied, “Go ahead.”

She knew that if she brought her to the bookstore, Xi Tang wouldn’t want to leave anytime soon.

Ni Kailun had a coffee and handled a few work emails. Half an hour later, Xi Tang came back, surrounded by a few young people with rosy faces. Xi Tang smiled and said, “Please ask my colleague to help take a picture.”

She glanced at Ni Kailun, silently asking for her opinion.

Ni Kailun immediately moved the bag of books beside her without making a sound, then leaned in and said very gently, “Let’s not disturb others, we’ll be leaving now.”

The group of excited young college students pulled each other’s hands, their eyes sparkling with excitement.

Ni Kailun helped them take a photo, then personally checked it before softly thanking them and, with Xi Tang, leaving the bookstore.

As Ni Kailun drove out of the university, she was quite satisfied with the day’s schedule. “Tonight, have the PR team keep an eye on Weibo. If they post anything, we can ask some media contacts to help with the publicity.”

The person beside her didn’t respond, remaining silent.

Ni Kailun turned her head to glance at Xi Tang, whose soul seemed to have wandered off. She hadn’t heard a word Ni Kailun said. Her eyes were fixed on the view outside the window, as their car passed through a student district. The streetlights were just coming on, and the atmosphere was lively with young girls holding hands with tall, handsome boys, their laughter and youthful voices floating in the air.

Xi Tang remained still, staring out the window, her eyes filled with a lost, confused expression.

In mid-July, Xi Tang flew to Beijing.

She was attending the 27th Beijing Television Arts Festival’s opening ceremony.

The Last Princess He Shuo, the most high-profile TV drama since its spring premiere, was nominated for six major awards: Best Long-Form TV Drama, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Actor, Best Actress, and Best Visual Arts, making it the most-watched and highest-rated show of the year.

However, the male lead, Yin Nan, would be resting after finishing the filming and would not participate in the publicity campaign or attend the award ceremony. Since he had won several Best Actor awards, his contract had stipulated this, and the production team couldn’t ask for more. As the female lead, Xi Tang had to work hard to promote the show.

The second male lead, Li Mowen, also came. After the team disbanded, Xi Tang saw him for the first time. He had been living in Beijing for a long time. He played Cheng Yumian, the handsome and sophisticated returned student who had deep feelings for the Grand Princess, and his performance had made many female fans cry.

Xi Tang hugged him.

Xi Tang and Li Mowen went to Beijing TV station to record a show. Ni Kailun was busy dealing with the media who had gathered to interview Xi Tang.

Li Mowen’s manager teased, “Hey, Kailun, leave some space for our artist.”

Ni Kailun hugged Xi Tang, “Who are we kidding? After this, we’ll have both our fans sitting together.”

After finishing work, they returned to the hotel. From the airport to the hotel, from the hotel to the studio, and back again, that night, Xi Tang stood by the hotel window, looking outside. Beneath the black sky, the neon lights seemed to have a layer of gray. The towering buildings overlooked the vast, empty northern city.

The next morning, Ni Kailun went out to handle business while Xi Tang stayed in the hotel room, doing a face mask, not planning to leave.

She remembered Beijing in July, when they filmed Orange Boy. Their crew had shot at the city’s Party School. The tall locust trees were lush, and the cicadas chirped loudly. The sunlight was bright and harsh, and standing in the shade, squinting up at the sky, her skin burned in the hot sun, but there was no sweat—just dryness. In the evening, elderly people pushed baby strollers slowly walking along the streets.

Beijing, with its prosperous Changping district, couldn’t accommodate people weighed down by sadness.

The next afternoon, they were waiting for their flight at Capital Airport.

Ni Kailun, exhausted from all the socializing, sat with a tired face, drinking coffee.

Xi Tang, wearing sunglasses, remained silent.

She had only applied a thin layer of foundation and hadn’t done her eye makeup. She stared blankly out of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

A year ago, she had come to Beijing to film The Last Princess He Shuo.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

Her assistant wandered around the lounge, drinking coffee and eating snacks, while Xi Tang and Ni Kailun sat in their seats, lost in thought.

For some unknown reason, the flight was delayed. There were a few muted complaints in the VIP lounge, and the airport staff quietly reassured the passengers.

At that moment, a phone rang behind them. After two rings, the phone was picked up. A man’s voice, deep and smooth, with clear enunciation and a slight Beijing accent, came from a seat not far behind them: “Teacher Zhou, oh, you’re free today? What made you think of calling your son?”