NMBJ2 - 28

After the funeral, Xitang returned to Hengdian.

Following her mother’s death, Xitang continued working for almost two months. She couldn’t stop the contracts she had signed. On set, her expressions became increasingly numb, and she began to gain weight. Her costumes, custom-tailored, had to be altered twice to adjust for her expanding waist.

Ni Kailun came to the set, slipped red envelopes to the costume designers, and offered cigarettes to the photographers, instructing them to make her look slimmer in the pictures.

After filming wrapped up, the New Year approached, and Ni Kailun canceled a large number of Xitang’s upcoming projects. Xitang’s face started to swell, and she returned to the house where she and her mother had lived. She never left again.

Once the filming stopped, Xitang sank into depression. With nowhere to release her sorrow, her long-suppressed appetite exploded. She began eating excessively. Initially, Ni Kailun was sympathetic and tolerant, but gradually, she noticed that Xitang seemed to have no sense of taste, constantly stuffing food into her mouth—only the kinds of food she would usually be denied: fried chicken, large fries, rich cream cakes, oily spicy skewers. Within a week, Xitang’s face became greasy, her forehead covered in pimples. She looked like a zombie, with no spark left in her eyes.

Ni Kailun decisively sent her assistant, A Kuan, to stay with Xitang. A Kuan threw away all of her takeout food. Xitang fought back like a madwoman, but she was no match for A Kuan. In no time, A Kuan had pinned her down on the sofa.

Xitang finally surrendered.

During the day, when A Kuan came to work, Xitang stayed in her room sleeping. For meals, she was forced to eat simple boiled vegetables at regular times, often unable to finish them due to lack of appetite, but still, she kept gaining weight.

Ni Kailun found it suspicious. One night, after putting her own child to bed, she went to Xitang’s house and saw a shadow sneaking around the fridge. Ni Kailun followed, furious. “Are you crazy?”

Xitang ignored her, shoving chocolate into her mouth.

Ni Kailun, enraged, yanked her away and slapped her across the face before throwing the food from the fridge into a trash bag. Xitang stood dumbly to the side, watching Ni Kailun throw away the contents of the fridge, when suddenly, a sealed jar rolled out from the back. It fell to the floor with a clink. Xitang picked it up and opened it. The smell of beef sauce, sweet and slightly spicy, filled the air. It was her mother’s homemade sauce, the taste she loved most.

Tears sprang from Xitang’s eyes immediately. She hugged the jar and collapsed in front of the fridge, crying uncontrollably.

Ni Kailun tried to pull her up but couldn’t. Xitang wailed, her body collapsing to the side. Ni Kailun quickly pressed her finger to Xitang’s pressure point, and when she looked down, Xitang was awake, still crying.

Ni Kailun was panicked.

Xitang had completely stopped working. In this industry, every popular star is exhausted, but no one dares to rest. The moment you stop, someone else will take your spot. The audience forgets you after a month, especially someone like Xitang, who was at the peak of her rise and had to fight to maintain her top position. Watching her self-destruct and give up such a golden opportunity, Ni Kailun was desperate but didn’t dare push her. When Xitang was in a better mood during the day, Ni Kailun came home from work and tried to get her to read a new script. Xitang, with a pale expression, said, “I’ve earned enough money. I’m alone. I don’t need to spend much.”

Ni Kailun was at her wit’s end. A month had passed, the old lunar year’s holiday had ended, and if she still refused to go back to work, her hard-won acting career would likely be over for good.

When Zhao Pingjin arrived, Ni Kailun was in the downstairs garden, walking her son while waiting for him. The nanny had taken the weekend off.

From a distance, she saw the black Land Rover driving recklessly, as if it were being driven by a person with the same boldness. Zhao Pingjin got out of the car, and the security guard came over to help him park. He walked toward Ni Kailun, tall and thin, dressed in a camel-colored trench coat, his face still as it always was, with the same obnoxious arrogance.

Ni Kailun handed him the elevator card, “You know which room, you can go up yourself.”

Zhao Pingjin nodded.

Ni Kailun said, “She’s in a bad mood, so don’t be too harsh.”

Zhao Pingjin didn’t respond, but glanced down at the small child next to her, squatting on the grass and scooping sand, wearing blue denim overalls. “Your son?” he asked.

Ni Kailun quickly pulled her son into her arms.

Zhao Pingjin casually commented, “He’s quite cute.”

Ni Kailun proudly lifted her chin.

Zhao Pingjin turned and walked to the elevator, saying, “A little chubby, needs to lose weight.”

Ni Kailun was furious.

When she turned around, he had already disappeared around the corner of the elevator.

Ni Kailun crouched down to examine her son, whose chubby face was peeking out from under a woolen hat. The high-paying nanny hired by the agency had been feeding him diligently, and it seemed like he had gained some weight.

Ah Kuan opened the door for him and whispered, “She’s in the room.”

Zhao Pingjin knocked on the door and directly walked in.

Huang Xitang heard the door open and moved her gaze. When she saw the man standing at the door, her eyelids twitched slightly for a moment before returning to her usual numb expression.

Zhao Pingjin saw a shadow by the window. Huang Xitang was sitting in a chair by the window, wearing a loose black dress. Her figure hadn’t changed much, but as soon as Zhao Pingjin looked at her, he understood why Ni Kailun had called him. Huang Xitang seemed completely numb, as if she had sealed off her emotions to protect herself from unbearable grief.

Zhao Pingjin leaned against the door frame, his tone calm, “Change your clothes, I’ll take you out to get some sunshine.”

Huang Xitang didn’t respond.

Zhao Pingjin walked in, opened the closet, and took out a coat for her. His voice was steady and firm, “Change your clothes.”

Seeing she remained motionless, Zhao Pingjin put the sweater over her head. Huang Xitang didn’t speak but raised her hand to cover her head.

Zhao Pingjin grabbed her arm, and Huang Xitang silently but desperately struggled. Her arms flailed in the clothes, refusing to wear them. Zhao Pingjin, who lacked patience, tried to calm her down for a while but then his tone turned serious, “Alright, enough already!”

Huang Xitang stopped moving.

Zhao Pingjin put socks on her, then a coat, and pulled her up. He dragged her by the collar, holding her close to his chest. Huang Xitang was practically being carried as Zhao Pingjin walked with purpose toward the elevator.

When the elevator reached the ground floor, Zhao Pingjin pushed her out, and the sunlight suddenly flooded her face.

Huang Xitang immediately shut her eyes.

Zhao Pingjin forced her to stand in the sunlight. Huang Xitang felt as if her vision was filled with darkness.

He drove her out of the neighborhood.

The New Year had just passed, and a few red lanterns were still hanging from the trees in the community. The car turned onto a wide road, and after more than an hour, the scenery gradually became sparse. The tall buildings were less dense, and the forest thickened. In the distance, a temple tower with black tiles and white walls came into view.

Zhao Pingjin took her into the temple, which was located in the Xiao Kunshan area, far from the city. There were usually few visitors. After driving for so long, he brought her here to avoid crowds. They passed through two halls and reached a quiet meditation hall in the west wing. Zhao Pingjin stopped at the door, “The master is teaching, you can go in and listen.”

Huang Xitang looked at him, her eyes suddenly glimmering.

Zhao Pingjin shook his head, saying faintly, “I won’t go in. The men of the Zhao family don’t believe in this. But the old lady is devout, she eats vegetarian on the first and fifteenth days of every month.”

Huang Xitang went in.

When she came out, she walked through a few corridors and reached the east wing, where she saw Zhao Pingjin standing by a large incense burner in front of the Ksitigarbha Hall. Beside him was a monk in a yellow robe, and they were burning paper money in the furnace.

Huang Xitang walked over, and Zhao Pingjin handed her a stack of paper money. “For your mother, to send her off. Burn it for peace of mind.”

Once the thick stack of paper money was burnt, Zhao Pingjin said, “Let’s go.”

They walked down the mountain in silence.

Huang Xitang was half a step behind him. After walking a short distance, she felt her legs give way and stumbled on the stairs.

Zhao Pingjin didn’t react in time. When he turned around, he saw her sitting on the ground. He furrowed his brow and said, “Get up.”

Huang Xitang, who had barely slept recently, felt her vision blur. She silently climbed up and continued walking. A few steps later, she stumbled again.

This time, Zhao Pingjin was prepared. He quickly grabbed her collar and lifted her up.

He placed her on the stone steps, then took a step forward and stood on the step below hers, bending down. “Climb up.”

Without a word, Huang Xitang bent down, draped herself over his back, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She smelled his hair, the scent of his collar, and the woody fragrance of his aftershave—quiet and cool, the scent that had once captivated her. She hadn’t smelled it in such a long time.

Her heart suddenly felt a little sore.

A long time ago, when they were dating, one year during the National Day holiday, she worked as a model in a mall in Xidan. She had to wear high heels all day, and her heels were worn raw. Zhao Pingjin picked her up after work, and when they reached the garage under the building, he carried her upstairs. Huang Xitang, barefoot and with a heavy bag, was draped over his back, swaying as he walked, filled with sweetness and happiness. Now, thinking back, it felt like a dream, as if it had never truly happened.

Zhao Pingjin steadied her body with one hand and then straightened up, standing tall. Xitang felt her body suddenly sink heavily into his palm. She shifted slightly on his back, trying to subtly lighten the load, but she heard Zhao Pingjin sigh and coldly say, “How much KFC did you eat?”

Xitang slapped the back of his head forcefully.

Zhao Pingjin didn’t speak any further, carrying her down the mountain. The winter sun shone through the woods, the air dry and crisp. The stone steps were rough, and though he walked slowly, he did so with steady, sure steps, eventually reaching the parking spot.

Zhao Pingjin set Xitang down and pressed the car key in his hand. “It’s cold outside. You should go in first.”

Xitang looked at him.

Zhao Pingjin glanced at her sideways. “So, you’ve decided not to speak to me, huh?”

Xitang reluctantly responded, “What do you want?”

Zhao Pingjin took out a cigarette pack. “You go ahead and get in the car. I need a smoke.”

Xitang sat in his car and watched as he leaned against the car, lighting a cigarette.

Through the car window, with his back to her, Xitang had the chance to study him more closely. The man outside wore charcoal-gray trousers and a wood-brown turtleneck sweater. Upon a closer look, his features showed a hint of weariness, a sign of fatigue. Zhao Pingjin, once pampered and sheltered, now bore the marks of hardship.

Zhao Pingjin stood for a while, feeling faint, and after finishing half the cigarette, he seemed to recover.

He drove back into the city.

As the car sped down the highway, Xitang suddenly spoke up beside him. “She had a tough life.”

Zhao Pingjin furrowed his brow slightly, murmuring an acknowledgment.

Xitang knew he was listening.

“When she was young, she was quite graceful, but she never met a good man. In the end, after all the hardship, her daughter finally made some money and then she was diagnosed with a disease.”

“She was always a beautiful woman, doing her own hair. Later, she opened a noodle shop, making her own apron, and always kept it clean.”

Zhao Pingjin gripped the steering wheel, silently watching the road ahead. All he could hear was her voice—thin, with a soft nasal tone. Because of her acting work, she usually spoke in clear, standard Mandarin, but when she was relaxed, there was a faint Southern accent. Zhao Pingjin knew Xitang understood he was listening.

“There were some issues with the neighbors. Some women insulted her, calling her dirty, so we had to keep moving.”

“There was a time during my adolescence when I stopped talking to her. I resented her for doing things that made me feel like I couldn’t even hold my head up when walking to school. But when we settled in Xianju, and after a bit of money, she sent me to learn the piano. I started learning when I was ten.”

The clear sky outside the elevated highway stretched endlessly. Zhao Pingjin’s car was speeding. Xitang breathed gently, watching his hand on the wheel, noting the long, distinct joints of his fingers. His wrist, pale and delicate, was adorned with a thin platinum watch. She silently observed him, feeling like she had longed for the past—not necessarily him, but the version of herself that he had once loved. This man beside her had been her companion, enemy, family, and lover. He was the person with whom she had spent the most time in her life, second only to her mother. After her mother passed away, she felt she had nothing left to lose.

“When I was in high school, I lived at the school. One afternoon, during PE class, the teacher let us off early. When I came home, I saw a pair of men’s leather shoes behind the door. I quietly closed the door and went back to school.”

“A week later, she gave me a large sum of money. I was going to take an art school exam, and I needed to attend a training class. I didn’t hate Uncle Qiu. Really, I didn’t. I hated my mom.”

Xitang spoke, her voice broken, recounting the fragmented past.

“One year, just before New Year’s, she took me to buy new clothes at a small clothing store on the side of the market road. I wanted a pair of trendy jeans. At the time, she worked at a silk factory, earning over 500 yuan a month, and she also had a child in her teens. She was saving money for me to attend college. She stared at the jeans for a long time, then said, ‘Sister, let’s go home.’”

“Then I went home with her. I was older by then, and didn’t argue, but I didn’t speak either.”

“We got home. She thought about it the whole night. She couldn’t bear to disappoint me. The next day, after work, she took me to buy the jeans.”

“In truth, those jeans weren’t even that nice. I barely wore them later, but at the time, I just didn’t understand.”

She finally began to cry.

Zhao Pingjin slowed down the car, passing through Xujiahui. He drove slowly through the French Concession area.

When she cried, it was just like when she had cried in Beijing with him—choking, silent, tears flowing endlessly, sobbing hard, struggling to breathe.

Zhao Pingjin spotted a parking space by the roadside, swerved the steering wheel to park, then unbuckled his seatbelt and reached to lift Xitang, gently placing her in his arms and patting her back.

Xitang rested her head on his shoulder, crying and gasping for air. Zhao Pingjin silently waited. After a long while, she finally calmed down, lying still in his arms.

Zhao Pingjin took out a handkerchief and wiped her nose.

Now, she was a well-known celebrity, a woman who had once been pampered. Back then, he didn’t understand her. But over the years, he came to realize her struggles. Yet, nothing could be undone. After meeting her again, she had transformed into a delicate star, smiling whenever necessary, keeping her beautiful face as the only emotion she allowed to show. She had likely poured all her emotions into her roles.

Xitang’s hair had come loose, a few strands sticking to her face with the tears. Her eyes, swollen from crying, still leaked more tears.

She had fallen asleep in the crook of his neck.