NMBJ2 - 40

After the Beijing premiere ended, Xitang followed the troupe to several cities in the south. During her rare breaks, she mostly returned to Shanghai, and for a while, she didn’t visit Beijing. Her days were busy, filled with work and travel. The next time she came to Beijing was after the season’s tour had concluded, when her grandparents invited her for a short stay.

By November, the temperature in Beijing had dropped significantly. Xitang accompanied her elderly grandparents to catch the last wave of red leaves. By the end of the month, the maple leaves would fall rapidly. As the autumn wind grew chilly, Xitang visited Guosheng Hutong several times but didn’t see Zhao Pingjin. Casually asking Li Shu’an, she learned that the elder Mr. Zhao had been hospitalized for over a month, and his condition wasn’t looking good. With the current situation uncertain, Zhao Pingjin rarely went out anymore.

One evening, Li Shu’an invited Xitang and his daughter to dinner since Xitang had just taken on new work and would soon return to Shanghai. Midway through the meal, Li Shu’an received a call from his secretary—there was an urgent meeting at the ministry that required his immediate attendance. Xitang let him leave and stayed behind to finish the meal with little Xinxin. Later, she drove the girl back to Guosheng Hutong. As she exited, she noticed Zhao Pingjin’s car parked at the entrance of the hutong. She walked up to the gate of the Zhao family’s quadrangle courtyard. The guard on duty, Xiao Wu, recognized her and smiled, asking, “Is there something you need?”

Xitang replied, “Is Zhouzi home?”

The spacious quadrangle courtyard was deserted, save for a single lantern swaying under the eaves in the wind. Xitang crossed the veranda and headed toward the small flower hall on the west side. The lights were on, and a shadow could be seen inside the study. As she approached, she saw it was Zhao Pingjin, one hand pressed against his stomach, resting with his head down on the desk, eyes closed.

But he wasn’t asleep. Hearing her approach, he immediately woke up.

Xitang stood at the doorway, silently watching him.

Zhao Pingjin stared at her blankly for a long while, as if he were dreaming. Finally, his hoarse voice broke the silence: “Come here.”

Xitang walked over and stood beside his chair.

Zhao Pingjin sat up, reached out to wrap his arm around her waist, and rested his head silently against her chest.

Xitang glanced at the desk. His phone, cigarette case, half a glass of water, and some pills were scattered on it. She softly asked, “Are you alright?”

Zhao Pingjin shook his head.

Xitang continued, “How’s the elder’s condition?”

Zhao Pingjin shook his head again.

Xitang hadn’t expected him to shake his head—it was information that even the family doctors had to keep strictly confidential. Her question had been purely out of politeness and concern; she hadn’t dared to expect an answer.

She carefully offered words of comfort: “Don’t overexert yourself.”

Zhao Pingjin tilted his head up, looked at her briefly, then closed his eyes again, leaning against her. “I used to think I was quite capable, but over the years, I’ve realized there aren’t many things I’ve done well. Take your matter, for example—I didn’t handle any part of it properly. Now, with Grandfather lying in the hospital, this is exactly when I should be by his side, yet all I can do is come home to rest.”

Earlier that day, the doctor had told him that the family needed to prepare themselves emotionally. The elder was being kept alive by machines, awaiting the arrival of Zhao Pindong’s flight.

Xitang tried to console him: “Well, my entire acting career was built because of you.”

Zhao Pingjin managed a weary smile, fleeting and gone without a word in response.

Xitang’s arms hung limply at her sides. After hesitating for a long while, she finally raised her hands and embraced him. Her elbows pressed against his back, her palms lightly resting on the nape of his neck. Her fingers brushed against his short, neatly trimmed hair and the crisp collar of his shirt—the very places she loved to touch most.

Zhao Pingjin closed his eyes, sighed deeply, and buried his head further into her embrace.

Xitang gently stroked the back of his neck, once, then again. Zhao Pingjin remained motionless, nestled against her.

In the glow of the lamplight, Xitang noticed a shadow flicker faintly on the floor. Turning her head slightly, she saw Zhao Pingjin’s mother standing at the study’s doorway, gazing fixedly at the two of them. It was unclear how long she had been watching.

Upon noticing Huang Xitang’s gaze, Teacher Zhou said nothing, quietly turning away.

---

Two days later, Xitang saw an obituary on the evening news.

The political and business landscape in Beijing was intricate, and any slight ripple would quickly spread as rumors. 

Being in Beijing, Huang Xitang heard the rumors almost immediately. Not long after the Zhao family had completed the funeral arrangements, word spread that the board of directors at Zhongyuan Group was in turmoil. 

A mountain had collapsed, and the entire city of Beijing trembled faintly. Outside, people whispered that the younger generation of the Zhao family had been summoned for questioning and accused of abusing their power. It was said that Zhao Pingjin had been taken from the Zhongyuan office by officials from the Supreme People’s Procuratorate. 

For two full days, Xitang couldn’t get through to anyone. 

Zhao Pingjin’s phone, Shen Min’s phone—both were switched off. 

Fang Langmei picked her up at the garage of their residential complex. 

As they stepped into the elevator, Fang Langmei’s first words were: “It’s all rumors. Don’t worry; everything’s fine.” 

Qingqing was waiting at the door. Seeing Xitang enter, she reached out and hugged her, saying softly, “Don’t be afraid. Everything will be alright.” 

Qingqing glanced at Xitang. Her bare face remained calm, but her eyes betrayed a trace of anxiety. Qingqing gestured for her to sit on the sofa. “Auntie took leave today. Let Langmei explain things to you.” 

She asked her child to blow a kiss to Xitang, then took her crawling son back to the playroom. 

Fang Langmei poured her a cup of hot tea. 

“Xiaomin specifically told me last night. He can’t turn on his phone right now, so please don’t take it personally,” Fang Langmei chuckled lightly, teasing, “Xitang, if there were really something serious, there wouldn’t be rumors floating around like this.” 

His words caused Xitang’s heart, which had just begun to settle, to leap again. 

Fang Langmei continued, “He just rested in the hospital for a few days. Once these rumors surfaced, he returned to work at the group.” 

Holding the teacup, Xitang slowly calmed down. 

Fang Langmei briefly explained the situation to her. Many details couldn’t be elaborated on—first, because Zhouzi didn’t want her to worry, and second, because the situation wasn’t as simple as he made it sound. Earlier in the year, during the Sun Kehu incident, both he and Zhao Pingjin had mobilized numerous connections. At the time, the elder Mr. Zhao had fallen ill, and they managed to keep this matter hidden from him. However, they couldn’t hide it from his parents. Teacher Zhou had observed her son’s condition during this period. Though she initially tried to shield him from his father’s knowledge, she eventually had no choice. After his father’s secretary connected a call to Beijing and closed the door, father and son spoke for over ten minutes. The elder Mr. Zhao was furious, scolding Zhao Pingjin severely, pounding the table with rage. 

“He’s lived rather low-key these past few years,” Xitang murmured softly. “How could this happen…?” 

“When he reformed the internal structure of Zhongyuan, some of his methods were harsh, offending certain people. It was inevitable,” Fang Langmei said tactfully, stopping short of elaborating further. 

Xitang asked, “What about his wife?” 

“They’ve been separated for a long time. Both families strongly oppose divorce. Yu Weimin even threatened that if Yu Xiaoying dared to divorce, she wouldn’t receive a single penny. You know, Yingzi is an only child, and the Yus have arranged quite a fortune for their daughter. When those words were spoken, Xiaoying didn’t dare to go home and make trouble. But now, I hear the Yu family might be softening their stance. I’m not entirely sure about the specifics.” 

When Xitang was leaving, Fang Langmei walked her downstairs and suddenly remembered to tell her: “Xiaomin has recently been promoted. He’s extremely busy. And Zhouzi is going abroad.” 

Xitang looked up at Fang Langmei. 

“Maybe he just wants to rest for a while,” Fang Langmei coughed awkwardly. “Ask him yourself.”