NMBJ2 - 29

When Huang Xitang woke up, it was already dusk.

The car was parked under a huge French parasol tree, with winter leaves scattered around. The sparse tree canopy shaded half of the street, and beside it stood a brick-red small villa. The entire street was empty and quiet.

The seat was reclined, and she was lying half in the car, covered by Zhao Pingjin’s coat. Her nose was stuffy, but her mind was much clearer. As she looked up, she saw him outside the car.

Zhao Pingjin was standing by the road, talking on the phone with one hand while the other was in his pocket.

Xitang vaguely looked at him. Ever since he sent her back to Shanghai from Beijing, it seemed like more than a year had passed without seeing him.

Zhao Pingjin had aged a little in the past year or so. He was still handsome, but his complexion was pale, and his eyes seemed dimmer, making him harder to read.

Next to the armrest, a storage compartment was half open. His wallet, cigarette box, and a white bottle were inside.

Xitang picked up the bottle and glanced at it, her expression darkening.

It was a whole bottle of spasm-relief and painkillers, and it seemed like he had almost finished it.

Zhao Pingjin turned around when he noticed she was awake and opened the car door. “Shall I take you home?”

Xitang nodded.

Zhao Pingjin started the car, set the navigation, and they drove through the bustling streets of Shanghai. He rested his hand on the steering wheel and said, “About your father—”

Xitang interrupted him, “I don’t have a father.”

Zhao Pingjin glanced at her without saying much.

Xitang didn’t speak anymore.

Zhao Pingjin continued, “Jing Boshi has retired. His ex-wife divorced him ten years ago, and his current wife was once the family maid. You have an older half-brother who works as a translator in the Navy, stationed at the Dalian Port. Your elderly grandparents are still alive.”

Xitang pursed her lips and didn’t respond.

“Whether you acknowledge them or not, it’s up to you.”

“I don’t acknowledge them.”

“Alright.”

The car arrived at Xitang’s place in Yangpu District. Zhao Pingjin also got out of the car. “I’ll take you downstairs.”

They walked toward the entrance to the building’s elevator. Not far away, a person waiting below waved at her as soon as he saw her.

Zhao Pingjin slowed his steps, and the car keys in his hand tightened, the cold metal digging into his palm. He spoke softly, “Alright, go ahead and head back.”

Xitang looked back before entering the building and saw the black car speeding down the road, turning a corner, and quickly disappearing.

The next day, Ni Kailun personally drove her to the gym. After dropping her off, he returned to the office, where his assistant brought in a pile of scripts and commercial contracts for Huang Xitang, stacked high like a small mountain. Ni Kailun sat in his chair, exhaling deeply.

In February, Xitang took on a well-written script for an anti-war spy drama and resumed filming. Half of the shoot was in Songjiang, at Chezhen. The little landlord, always worried she’d be lonely, brought his wife and child a few times to visit, and every time, he’d bring half a restaurant with him. As a result, Xitang got along well with the people on set. Occasionally, when she had a day off, she’d return home, but more often, she’d spend time at the little landlord’s place.

That day, at the landlord’s Xianju restaurant, during dinner, the server pushed the door open and called out, “Boss.”

The group turned around, and they saw Li Shuan standing in the doorway, holding a small backpack in one hand and holding a little girl’s hand with the other.

The little landlord immediately stood up, smiling and saying a few words in a hurry.

Li Shuan seemed to understand perfectly, smiling and replying, “Ah, yes, we’re just about to eat.”

The little landlord’s wife called out, “Director Li, come in and join us.”

“No, I’m meeting friends,” Li Shuan said, entering and shaking his head with a smile. He then lifted the little girl in his arms. “Xinxin, how do we greet people politely?”

The little girl immediately piped up, “Hello, Uncle and Aunt!”

The little landlord’s son, seeing her, scrambled down from his highchair, excitedly calling out, “Xinxin jie!”

Li Shuan let go of the little girl’s hand, and she ran over to kiss the little landlord’s son. Suddenly, she looked up and saw Xitang nearby.

The little girl looked at her face, slightly confused. “Are you Sister Haojing?”

Su Haojing was Xitang’s character in a previous urban romance drama she had filmed with Yang Yilin.

The little landlord’s wife chuckled.

Li Shuan walked over, slightly embarrassed. “Looks like a little fan. My bad, I don’t spend much time with her. She watches TV with the nanny, and she follows along.”

Xitang had no choice but to stand up, briefly kissing the child’s face and smiling warmly. “Hello.”

Li Shuan then said to the little landlord’s wife, “I have a friend waiting for me, so I won’t disturb your family gathering.”

The big and little pair bid farewell and left. Xitang sat back down, took a couple of bites, and glanced at the little landlord’s wife. “When did your husband get so familiar with him?”

The little landlord’s wife replied, “He’s come over a few times for meals. For such a high-ranking official, he doesn’t act like he has an ego.”

This man had obviously been in government for many years, and he was considerate and tactful in dealing with people. Xitang had seen many such men at various banquets. They wielded their power but still maintained a personable air, making it easy for them to win people over. Since coming to Shanghai with her father once, he often stopped by her place when he visited, bringing items from Beijing. Sometimes it was his secretary who dropped them off. Xitang was rarely home, so the nanny would collect the items—a large basket of crispy jujubes from Changxindian, several boxes of so-called snacks made by his grandparents. The nanny would receive them, and Xitang would ask her to pack up a large bundle of bird’s nest and winter-worm summer-grass to send back to him.

Xitang never saw him.

Ni Kailun said that after her mother passed away, he came a few times, but always stayed downstairs.

At that time, Ni Kailun did not allow her to meet anyone.

Throughout Xitang’s upbringing, her mother had always avoided talking about her biological father. Perhaps she feared that Xitang would harbor resentment, and preferred that her daughter grow up without a father figure. As a single mother, she was determined to take good care of her child. She didn’t want Xitang to feel abandoned by her father. Now, the father’s role had emerged, and old matters were resurfacing, but they no longer mattered. In fact, they were almost exactly what Xitang had always thought. Her mother had met her father while studying at Shanghai Normal University. It was the common story of a married teacher and a young female student, a tale that had been told throughout history. Her mother had already passed away, and her father was a stranger to her.

The next day, Xitang was resting at home when the phone rang.

She went downstairs, and Li Shuan handed her a paper bag.

Xitang opened it and glanced inside. It contained a transparent container filled with bright red strawberries.

Li Shuan said, “I saw some villagers selling them while I was inspecting the suburbs today. They were freshly picked and very fresh.”

Xitang coldly replied, “My aunt is not home.”

Li Shuan asked, “Did I disturb you?”

Xitang bluntly answered, “Yes.”

Li Shuan smiled, his expression warm and understanding.

Xitang, more irritated, said, “Why are you so involved in other people’s matters?”

Li Shuan stood in front of her, his demeanor calm and steady. “Although my sister divorced your father, I’ve always had a good relationship with him. My stepmother and your grandmother are close friends. Your father wants to visit, but he’s afraid you won’t like it, so I often come to see you. By the way, your grandparents saw your photos and really liked them.”

Huang Xitang coldly replied, “Mr. Li, it’s not appropriate for you to come. Didn’t you want to meet? I’ve already met you, so please don’t come again.”

Li Shuan said, “Xitang, me visiting you has nothing to do with your father. I came because I wanted to see you myself.”

Huang Xitang froze for a moment.

Li Shuan’s expression was sincere but calm. “Xinxin’s mother passed away over three years ago, from illness. She was a teacher of special education and a wonderful woman. She left me with a lovely daughter. I usually live in Beijing, but travel often. The girl lives with her grandparents, at my uncle and aunt’s house. My parents are in Sichuan.”

Xitang only heard him say, “Do you mind that I’m older than you and have a daughter?”

At ten in the morning, the conference room of Zhongyuan Group was hosting the regular weekly meeting for general managers.

If there wasn't any special work arrangement, Zhao Pingjin would usually authorize Shen Min to chair this weekly meeting. But today, Shen Min was out on a business trip, so Zhao Pingjin attended the meeting himself.

While the chief accountant was giving him an audit report, Zhao Pingjin’s secretary knocked and entered the room.

Secretary He bowed her head and whispered next to him, "Chairman Zhao, the property management company of Park Hyatt called. They said the fire alarm at your home went off, and hotel security went up to check. There seemed to be thick smoke coming from inside."

Since no one was in the house anyway, it was just a set of rooms. Zhao Pingjin tilted his head slightly and said, "Let the property management handle it. I have the door card in my car. Arrange for the driver to take it over. If they can't wait, let the firefighters break down the door."

Secretary He left with the instructions.

Zhao Pingjin turned around and signaled to continue the meeting.

More than thirty minutes later, the meeting ended, and Secretary He waited at the entrance of the conference room. She knew Zhao Pingjin's habit: unless it was something earth-shattering, she should never disturb his work, especially during meetings.

When Zhao Pingjin walked out, he glanced at Secretary He, knowing she had something to say. He turned and headed towards his office, with Secretary He following behind, saying, "Chairman Zhao, you need to go back once."

Zhao Pingjin asked, "What happened?"

Secretary He hesitated for a moment and lowered her voice slightly, "Your wife—she is in the house."

Zhao Pingjin drove back to Park Hyatt.

This house was close to the company. After working at Zhongyuan, he often stayed here due to frequent overtime. However, he didn’t live here regularly; he was more accustomed to staying at the house in Guosheng Hutong. After marriage, he basically returned to Xiagong Mansion.

Yu Xiaoying never managed the affairs of this house. After their marriage, she never entered this house. Since she didn’t care, Zhao Pingjin never mentioned it either.

He didn’t own many houses. Apart from the courtyard on Fuyou Street, which he bought for entertaining guests, the rest were not large and were mainly for convenience in daily living. Yu Xiaoying herself owned more than one house besides Xiagong Mansion. Before marriage, she often lived in a villa in Yanxi, which seemed to be under her father’s name. Zhao Pingjin never inquired about it.

Zhao Pingjin parked the car and took the elevator to the 52nd floor. As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, he saw the property manager accompanying his driver standing in front of the door.

Upon seeing him enter, the property manager quickly greeted, "Mr. Zhao."

The driver came up to report, "The property fire department came first. There was some smoke, but nothing serious. The fire department arrived, checked everything, and has already left."

Zhao Pingjin nodded, "It's fine now, let's go back."

The driver turned to signal the property manager, "I'll escort Manager Qu downstairs. Thank you for your hard work."

Zhao Pingjin opened the door and walked in.

Someone had opened the curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The fresh air and air conditioning systems were set to maximum ventilation and sterilization. Yu Xiaoying stood in the living room, appearing relatively calm.

As soon as Zhao Pingjin entered the house, he smelled a burnt odor wafting from the kitchen.

When Zhao Pingjin went in to look, he saw a pot on the kitchen floor containing a large pile of blackened, charred items.

With a quick glance, Zhao Pingjin immediately understood. It was the box of things Huang Xitang left in the house. Yu Xiaoying had burned everything Huang Xitang left in the Park Hyatt apartment.

Zhao Pingjin came out and looked at Yu Xiaoying, "Did you burn yourself?"

Yu Xiaoying snorted.

Zhao Pingjin spoke in a tone that sounded almost inhumanly calm, "I’ll have Driver Liu give you a key card later. You can come whenever you want, and do whatever you like with anything in the house."

Yu Xiaoying looked at the man before her, her eyes slowly filling with tears.

She thought she had caused trouble and expected him to get angry, to scold her, to show some emotional fluctuation because of her actions. But to her surprise, Zhao Pingjin was incredibly compliant with her.

Yu Xiaoying realized that she could ask for anything except a person’s heart. At that moment, she suddenly found it hilarious and couldn’t help but laugh aloud while standing in the living room.

Zhao Pingjin stood far from the floor-to-ceiling window, silent, his eyes gray like a sea.

Yu Xiaoying laughed until tears streamed down her face, "Zhouzi, aren’t you tired of living like this?"

Zhao Pingjin looked at the woman who had lived with him for more than three years. She stood before him laughing, yet tears streamed down her round face. A sudden pang of pity struck his heart. He took a step toward her, wanting to reach out and touch her arm.

But Yu Xiaoying pushed his hand away and wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes, "What do you think of me? What do you think of our marriage?"

Zhao Pingjin finally spoke to console her, "It’s just a box of old books. Why bother so much?"

Yu Xiaoying lifted her head, "Zhouzi, let’s part ways amicably."

Zhao Pingjin remained silent.

Yu Xiaoying stared at him fixedly. She had cried and made a scene before, but he always endured silently with his good temper. When she cried too hard, he sometimes came over and gently hugged her shoulders. She would always soften her heart, and they would continue living peacefully.

This man’s heart, no matter how much she tried to warm it, remained cold.

They were husband and wife, but there was no warmth between them. She was a young woman and couldn’t live like a widow in a cold tomb with a man.

The door opened and closed again.

Zhao Pingjin took a deep breath, suppressing the irritation in his chest. He knew he should chase after her, comfort her, and take her back to her workplace or home. His foot moved slightly, but the entire wall of open-view glass windows in the living room suddenly loomed over him like a huge abyss. The whole living room, bathed in glaring sunlight, seemed to float in the air like a vortex. The remote control for the curtains was on the back of the sofa. He glanced over and felt dizzy and nauseous.

He turned away and leaned against the wall, standing there for a long time before finally giving up.

Zhao Pingjin slowly walked into the kitchen. He squatted on the floor and reached out to stir the pile of ashes.

Small bits of ash floated up, and Zhao Pingjin couldn’t help but turn his head and cough. His gaze fell upon a half-burnt piece of paper at the bottom. He picked it up and saw two boarding passes stacked together. His name and Huang Xitang’s name were tightly next to each other. The paper was mostly burnt, leaving only one side intact. The departure point read Beijing, and the destination, scorched yellow, read Shenyang.

When they were dating, Zhao Pingjin was busy starting his business and never accompanied her on trips. That trip was a business trip for Zhao Pingjin. Back then, Jingchuang had just been established, and Li Ming had taken on a project from a state-owned enterprise outside the capital. After finishing the accounts for half a year, they couldn’t collect payment. Zhao Pingjin asked an undergraduate senior from a local municipal engineering department to intervene. Due to the complex relationships involved, Zhao Pingjin had to go personally and took Huang Xitang along. While he worked, Xitang went alone to visit the Shenyang Imperial Palace with a backpack. Zhao Pingjin remembered that day when no real business discussions happened, only banquets. They started drinking in the morning and continued until three or four in the afternoon, utterly exhausted. After leaving the hotel, he took a taxi to find her, and the two ate Northeastern cuisine at a small restaurant near Shuai Mansion.

Xitang was starving after a day of sightseeing. Zhao Pingjin leaned back in his chair, watching her devour a pot of sauerkraut stewed with pork ribs. He had no appetite.

Xitang didn’t stop eating but suddenly leaned over, reaching out to touch his face and teasingly said, "My poor baby, look what they’ve done to you."

Zhao Pingjin held her hand and said, "Don’t fool around, I’m tired."

Xitang touched his face again and gently responded, "I know."

In that instant, everything felt alright.

Zhao Pingjin stared blankly at the ashes of the paper, where faint traces of handwriting were still visible. It was the movie script she had written, character descriptions penned during class. There was also a photograph—her face and Zhong Qiao'er's now reduced to ash. At the slightest touch of his fingers, it crumbled into dust, which quickly spread through the air. Zhao Pingjin stepped back a few paces, unable to suppress a bout of coughing.

Still clutching the two fragments of paper tightly in his hand, he sat on the floor and coughed for a long while. Finally, he stood up and slowly made his way to the bathroom. With a towel, he carefully wiped the two boarding passes clean, then neatly tucked them between the pages of a book on his bedside table.