NMBJ2 - EPILOGUE 2

He is a friend of mine

At the end of November, when she was thirty-two years old, Xitang returned from Taiwan.

The arrival hall was packed with reporters and fans. Xitang emerged wearing a caramel-colored coat, sneakers, and sunglasses. The crowd immediately erupted in cheers and screams. Bouquets were passed to her continuously. Xitang accepted two bunches, while her assistant carried the rest. Reporters surrounded her, asking to see the trophy.

Xitang merely waved lightly at the reporters and smiled softly, saying that it was in her luggage.

Her agent escorted her forward. Even the photographers joined the fans in shouting, “Congratulations, Best Actress! You look stunning!”

They made their way to the airport parking lot. The assistant opened the car door, and Xitang noticed a large bouquet of bright pomegranate flowers on the back seat.

The flowers had been freshly picked that morning from a southern greenhouse and delivered to Shanghai via an airline’s refrigerated container.

When they arrived at Xitang’s home in Yangpu District, the assistant, Akuan, picked up the bouquet and brought it inside.

That evening, Xiaodizhu hosted a celebratory dinner for Xitang at his restaurant. Almost all the senior management from Lukai Media attended, along with Xitang’s entire staff and a few close artist friends. The banquet hall was reserved exclusively for their company’s guests that night, making the atmosphere lively, warm, and carefree.

Xiaodizhu personally cooked that evening. Despite having more responsibilities in restaurant management now, he still loved cooking. It was rare for the boss to cook, so even the executive chef stayed late to taste a few bites. The dinner table buzzed with conversation and laughter. Ni Kailun was even more excited than Xitang, reminiscing about the past: “The first time I went to Taiwan was in 1999, accompanying Director Shize Ming. I sat in row 35, not knowing anyone. Halfway through the flight, I spotted Maggie Cheung and was thrilled for the entire night.”

Xitang laughed and teased, “Kailun, you’ve had too much to drink. You’re revealing your age.”

That night, after returning home, Xitang spent some time in her mother’s room. The room had already been tidied up and was now empty, used to store some of Xitang’s unused dresses and trophies. She kept one of her mother’s sweaters in the closet. Sitting on the sofa in the walk-in closet, she took out the sweater and gently pressed it against her face.

After sitting for a while, it was almost 1 a.m. when her assistant came to remind her to go to bed.

She had to return to Hengdian to film the next day.

The day she returned to Hengdian, it snowed.

Winter was the best season for filming period dramas, and natural snowy landscapes were rare and precious. The director immediately moved the entire crew to an outdoor location. Little palace maids in padded coats sat on low stools waiting for their scenes, their breath visible in the cold air. The outdoor set consisted of only a few tents, and it was just as cold inside as outside. Akuan stuck heat packs all over Xitang’s body.

They wrapped up filming at around six, and it was already dark.

After returning to town for dinner, the driver dropped Xitang and her assistant off at their place to rest. Xitang still lived in the same house but had rented all three rooms on the floor, including a kitchen.

Xitang walked up the stairs with Akuan. As they turned the corner, they looked up and saw a dark figure sitting in front of her door. Startled, Xitang gripped Akuan’s hand tightly. Akuan screamed in fright.

The driver, Huang, rushed up from downstairs, positioning himself protectively in front of the two women. He glanced upward and then froze.

“Mr. Zhao,” he said respectfully.

Zhao Pingjin stood up. A tall, lean man dressed in a black-gray tweed coat, his handsome, pale profile illuminated by the flickering lights from the opposite residential building.

Xitang reached out and turned on the corridor light.

Akuan clutched her chest and handed Xitang the keys, her bag, and everything else in her hands before turning and heading downstairs with the driver.

Xitang rummaged through her bag for the keys and glanced at him. “Why are you sitting in front of my door? The floor’s dirty.”

Zhao Pingjin snapped, “Do you think I wanted to sit on the floor? Who told you to come back so late?”

Xitang replied, “Why didn’t you wait in the car? It’s freezing out here.”

Zhao Pingjin took the large bag she was carrying. “I came all this way, Huang Xitang. Can’t you at least give me a decent welcome?”

Xitang unlocked the door, and Zhao Pingjin followed her inside. Standing in the narrow entryway, she tilted her head to look at his face.

There was a deep, burning fire in Zhao Pingjin’s eyes. “Why didn’t you marry Shu An?”

“Because it wouldn’t have been fair to him.”

“Why wouldn’t it have been fair?”

Huang Xitang raised her head to speak, but Zhao Pingjin suddenly pushed her against the wall of the entryway and kissed her fiercely. Xitang struggled, twisting her upper body, but Zhao Pingjin grabbed her neck roughly. His movements were violent and intense; his hands were icy cold. Xitang shivered and bit down hard on his lip.

Zhao Pingjin cursed into her mouth, “Shit.” Blood mingled between their entwined tongues, but he refused to let her go, pressing her body tightly against his. Xitang kicked at his legs, but he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her up.

Their kiss was passionate and unrelenting. Zhao Pingjin carried her into the living room and onto the couch. Xitang fumbled for the air conditioner remote. “How long did you wait outside? Your body’s freezing.”

Zhao Pingjin focused on nibbling her shoulder. “It’ll warm up soon.”

The heater clicked on, and the warmth began to spread. Her coat had already been tossed aside, and Zhao Pingjin removed the gray sweater she was wearing. Both of them had white shirts on underneath. Xitang hadn’t worn a bra, and Zhao Pingjin tore open two buttons of her shirt, exposing her snow-white collarbone and shoulders. He held her ankle in his hand as she straddled his waist, her face pressed against his neck. Her wet, soft tongue licked his Adam’s apple.

Zhao Pingjin shuddered violently, a surge of heat rushing through his body. He swallowed hard and lifted her entirely, flipping her onto the couch.

Xitang screamed, “Zhao Pingjin, you bastard!”

Zhao Pingjin slapped her hard on the butt. He didn’t hold back, and Xitang heard a sharp “slap.” Her leg instantly went numb. Zhao Pingjin gritted his teeth. “You’ve been such a pain in the ass, provoking me every day on Guosheng Hutong. I’ve wanted to teach you a lesson for a long time!”

The room slowly warmed up in the darkness. Two white shirts lay crumpled together on the carpet next to the coffee table.

---

On the night of Beijing’s Lunar New Year’s Eve.

His father happened to be home for the holidays this year. The Spring Festival Gala played loudly on TV, and a pot of steaming dumplings was served. Zhao Pingjin ate half a bowl at home. At around ten o’clock, he got up and put on his coat.

Teacher Zhou and the housekeeper were helping the elderly matriarch eat. She looked up at her son. “Where are you running off to on New Year’s Eve?”

Zhao Pingjin glanced at his mother. “Don’t you already know where I’m going better than I do?”

Teacher Zhou put down her chopsticks. “Can’t you go tomorrow?”

Zhao Pingjin finished dressing and walked over to kiss his grandmother. “No, she’s alone in Beijing.”

Teacher Zhou stood up. “Doesn’t she have a family? Why didn’t the Jing family take her back for the holidays?”

Zhao Pingjin picked up his car keys. “They’re just relatives. That’s not a real family. She only has me.”

Teacher Zhou frowned. “We only have one child. Are you really going to leave the elders alone for the holiday?”

Zhao Pingjin smiled at his mother. “You’ve got Dad, haven’t you?”

At that moment, Zhao Pingjin’s father walked out of the room, standing in the living room with his hands behind his back. He addressed his son: “Go ahead. Next year, bring her home for the New Year.”

Teacher Zhou glared at her husband.

Comrade Zhao Zhuoguo simply smiled at Teacher Zhou.

“Wait a moment, Auntie,” Teacher Zhou called into the kitchen. “Pack two boxes of dumplings for Zhou’er to take with him.”

Zhao Pingjin started the car at the entrance of the siheyuan. In the past year or two since he had fallen ill and gone abroad, his mother had visibly aged, and she no longer managed household affairs as strictly as before. For over a year, Teacher Zhou had stayed in Los Angeles to care for him. Even after he returned to Beijing, his mother spent most of her time abroad. His father, now nearly sixty, was trying to mend their strained relationship. Zhao Pingjin understood that deep down, his mother still loved his father.

Zhao Pingjin drove out of Guosheng Hutong. As the car turned onto Jianwai Avenue, a light snow began to fall.

When he was with Xitang, they lived in a house at Park Hyatt. Teacher Zhou never questioned it, and whenever Xitang returned to Beijing, she never visited Guosheng Hutong.

However, the family’s nanny often sent homemade pastries to Park Hyatt every few days. On several occasions when Zhao Pingjin came home, the nanny had already packed fresh fruits and various tonics for him to take back. A few days ago, she even prepared a package of winter bamboo shoots, complete with sprouting tips. Winter bamboo shoots were known to be cold in nature, so Zhao Pingjin couldn’t eat them. He joked, “Oh, who’s this for?”

The nanny followed behind him, reminding him: “Not for you. It’s for your girl. Your mother specifically set these aside for her.”

When they got back together, Zhao Pingjin’s health wasn’t good. Xitang had postponed nearly three months of work to stay in Beijing and take care of him. By the time his health improved, they spent the New Year in Beijing together before Xitang returned to filming.

---

May

Beijing’s summer arrived late this year, and it was still cool in May. The elderly matriarch had just woken from her afternoon nap. The caregiver helped her into her wheelchair. Teacher Zhou walked in: “Mother.”

Suddenly, the old woman’s speech became clear: “Sister-in-law of Zhujun, you’re home.”

Teacher Zhou sat beside her: “Mother, I’m the wife of Zhuguo.”

The old woman said: “Ah, the second daughter-in-law.”

The grandmother held her hand: “Second daughter-in-law, you have a child now.”

Teacher Zhou smiled: “Zhou’er isn’t home today.”

The grandmother seemed not to hear, rambling on: “I dreamed last night. Early in the morning, I was fetching water at the ferry dock. I saw a chubby white baby in a small boat surrounded by thick fog, with no one else around. I quickly picked the baby up, knowing it was my daughter-in-law’s child born in Beijing.”

Every time Teacher Zhou recounted this story, she was delighted: “Mother, thanks to your dream, Zhouzi was conceived around that time.”

The grandmother spoke firmly: “I dreamed it again last night, second daughter-in-law. Don’t worry; that’s your child coming.”

Teacher Zhou thought to herself: The old lady is really losing her mind.

As Teacher Zhou stood at the door, a sudden realization struck her. Her heart raced, and she quickly called Zhao Pingjin: “Where’s your wife?”

Zhao Pingjin feigned ignorance: “Oh, your son has been divorced for ages. He’s all alone. What wife?”

Teacher Zhou’s tone grew urgent: “Don’t play dumb with me. I’m talking about Huang Xitang.”

Zhao Pingjin became alert, his tone shifting: “What do you want with her?”

“I’m asking where she is.”

“She’s working. Why?”

“I’m telling you, your grandma had that dream again—the one where I was carrying you in a small boat drifting down the river. Go check—could she be pregnant?”

Zhao Pingjin froze.

When his eldest sister, Zhao Pindong, was conceived, his sister-in-law hadn’t realized it, but their grandmother had dreamed of it. When his parents married, Teacher Zhou worked in Beijing while his father was stationed in grassroots work. Every time she visited him during leave, they struggled to conceive for four or five years. One day, the grandmother called, and Teacher Zhou immediately went to the hospital—it turned out she was pregnant. The grandmother’s dreams of grandchildren always came true.

Zhao Pingjin said: “I’ll call her.”

That evening, Zhao Pingjin returned to Guosheng Hutong.

The nanny was waiting by the hall entrance. Seeing him return, she quickly reported inside: “Madam, Young Master Zhou is back.”

Teacher Zhou came out.

Zhao Pingjin told his mother: “She’s filming from the afternoon into the evening and doesn’t have time to go to the hospital. I’ve already asked her assistant to buy a pregnancy test. She’ll check first thing tomorrow morning.”

Teacher Zhou trembled: “If we’re testing, then… how long has it been since her last period?”

“Two months.”

Teacher Zhou was trembling with joy: “Then it must be true!”

“Mom, her cycles are irregular. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Zhao Pingjin wasn’t optimistic. He didn’t dare to be blindly hopeful either. Her body made conception difficult.

They had been back together for a year, never using contraception, yet there had been no child. This was why she had always refused to marry him.

Early the next morning, Zhao Pingjin woke up.

Teacher Zhou and the nanny were already awake, waiting at the foot of the stairs on the first floor.

As Zhao Pingjin descended, buttoning his shirt cuffs, his face turned pale: “I’m heading to Shanghai now.”

The nanny burst into tears: “Such a great blessing!”

Teacher Zhou was much calmer than the day before: “I’ll arrange for someone from Grandma’s side to help take care of her daily needs. Be careful driving.”

Xitang was staying in Shanghai, pregnant.

Her apartment in Yangpu District was known to reporters, so to avoid the media, she moved to Zhao Pingjin’s house on Taojiang Road.

Zhao Pingjin rarely stayed in his Shanghai house, usually leaving only a gardener and a maid. His grandmother had specially arranged for a trusted auntie from the Zhou family, who had served them for many years, to take care of Xitang’s meals.

This auntie was a distant cousin of Teacher Zhou and a confidante of the Zhou family’s matriarch. She prepared meticulous meals, carefully balancing nutrition, and insisted on small, frequent meals—five times a day. However, Xitang had poor appetite during her early pregnancy. At every mealtime, the auntie would urge her to sit at the table, but Xitang could barely eat.

That week, Zhao Pingjin was busy with work and had returned to Beijing. Xitang was alone in Shanghai. Each time she couldn’t eat, the auntie would scold her, and Xitang forced herself to stuff food into her mouth.

One morning, Xitang suddenly burst into tears.

Zhao Pingjin happened to be home that day. Hearing her cry, he rushed out of the study and took the dishes away: “If she doesn’t want to eat, don’t force her.”

The auntie, who had worked for the Zhou family for years and raised Zhao Pingjin during his summer vacations in Shanghai, carried herself with authority. After all, she had been formally invited by the matriarch. She wouldn’t lose her dignity easily: “Why is she crying? Am I bullying her? No one’s that delicate. It’s normal for a pregnant woman to throw tantrums, but she shouldn’t act spoiled. If she doesn’t eat, it doesn’t matter—but the baby in her belly needs nourishment!”

Zhao Pingjin initially tried to endure, but eventually, he lost his temper: “If you utter another word of nonsense, go back to my grandmother’s house!”

He returned to the living room. Xitang’s expression was blank.

Zhao Pingjin gently patted her head.

Finally snapping out of it, Xitang wiped her tears and laughed: “I’ve known you for ten years, and this is the first time I’ve heard you speak Shanghainese.”

Zhao Pingjin immediately switched back to Mandarin: “What?”

Tears still hung on Xitang’s cheeks, but she suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter. “You sound so funny speaking Shanghainese! Say it again for me.”

Zhao Pingjin immediately refused: “No.”

Xitang jumped onto a chair and tugged at his hair. “Are you going to say it or not?”

Zhao Pingjin quickly steadied her. “Sit down properly!”

Xitang laughed as she teased him: “Come on, just say a little bit for me—just two sentences!”

Zhao Pingjin lifted her down. “Alright, get down now.”

Xitang was still laughing.

Zhao Pingjin put on a stern face. “Have you lost your mind, Huang Xitang?!”

Xitang quickly clamped her mouth shut and clasped her hands together in supplication. “Just say two sentences, and I promise I’ll eat properly.”

At noon, Xitang sat punctually at the dining table, eyes filled with eager anticipation as she waited for Zhao Pingjin to come over. That afternoon, the first-floor dining room was filled with Huang Xitang’s uncontrollable laughter—”Hahahaha!” Zhao Pingjin finally gave up and went all out: “Eat properly! If you don’t eat well, you’ll only laugh! If you laugh again tonight, I’ll make you do chores! Have you lost your mind? What kind of fool are you?”

Xitang laughed so hard she nearly fell off her chair.

The auntie outside shook her head. “Zhou’er’s girlfriend has turned into a fool since getting pregnant.”

---

In the autumn of that year, the second round of the stage play The Last Night of This World began its tour. On the day of the press conference, the official social media account of the production naturally posted routine promotional content. However, more than an hour after the promotional news was released that evening, the official account also posted a short video.

Stage plays were not a widely popular art form, and the official account had only tens of thousands of followers, with generally low engagement. But this particular post quickly caught the attention of major entertainment accounts online, garnering over 100,000 retweets and comments within an hour. The reason for the buzz was that the video featured Huang Xitang, who had disappeared from public view for over two months.

During the first two months of her pregnancy, Xitang didn’t show much. She had been filming at the time and hadn’t planned the pregnancy—it was accidental. Her work schedule couldn’t be changed, so despite feeling fatigued, she persisted and finished her shoot. By the third month, Xitang attended a fashion brand event in Shanghai, which turned out to be her last public appearance. Her previously scheduled movie contracts and variety show appearances were canceled.

At the time, rumors circulated that she was pregnant.

For a top-tier actress, being pregnant out of wedlock was neither a huge scandal nor a minor one. Fans and reporters were extremely curious, but neither her agency nor the artist herself responded.

No one expected her to announce it in this way.

The video was shot in the rehearsal room of the stage play. Director Lin Yongchuan was chatting with her in the director’s lounge. “Xitang, you’re having a baby, huh?”

At first, the camera was positioned behind Xitang, showing only her slightly loose-fitting dress, her arms and legs still very slender. Lin Yongchuan had directed Xitang’s first movie before leaving the film industry due to unforeseen circumstances and transitioning to theater, where he achieved great success. When Huang Xitang hit a low point in her career due to an assault incident, he was the first to cast her in a stage play. Over the years, Xitang had always held him in high regard, their relationship akin to father and daughter. Recently, Xitang had been quite happy. “Yes,” she replied.

Lin Yongchuan said, “All our friends are very curious—who’s the father?”

The young actors around them giggled secretly.

At this moment, the camera captured Huang Xitang’s profile. Smiling, she said, “He’s a friend of mine.”

When Xitang and Zhao Pingjin went out together, they were photographed a few times. The most famous instance was at Xiaodizhu’s restaurant in Shanghai, where a neighboring table’s guest secretly took photos of a man dining alone with Huang Xitang. Though their demeanor wasn’t overly intimate, they appeared very familiar and relaxed, clearly longtime friends. One close-up photo of the man’s profile, though blurry due to the phone’s poor resolution, revealed a strikingly handsome and refined face.

That photo was sent to a well-known paparazzi team. Before the meal ended, reporters arrived. Fortunately, the staff at the restaurant entrance were quick-witted and immediately alerted the boss. Xitang came out alone to handle the media, simply smiling and saying, “He’s a friend of mine.”

The next day, the news vanished.

Lin Yongchuan pointed to her belly. “Does that friend of yours know about this?”

Xitang pretended to wipe sweat and nodded vigorously. “He knows, he knows—it was a mutual decision.”

Lin Yongchuan’s tone was warm and paternal. “My little Lya is going to have a baby. Come, take over the B role.”

Xitang played the A role of Lya. There had been a second-tier actress rehearsing with the troupe, and at this moment, the young actress entered and bowed to Xitang. “Teacher.”

Their daughter, Yu Dian, was born in March.

Zhao Pingjin departed from Capital International Airport to accompany Xitang, who was about to give birth. At around eight in the evening, as he boarded the plane from the VIP lounge, he glanced out the large glass windows of the airport. That evening, dry Beijing experienced a light drizzle. Looking out across the vast expanse of the airport, the ground was wet, and night flights slowly taxied along the runway. Rows of lights on either side flickered, and raindrops fell one by one on the porthole window. Zhao Pingjin knew then that he would welcome a very lovely daughter.

Huang Xitang named her Zhao Zhishi—”Good rain knows its season.” The name also sounded like someone who might love studying. Unfortunately, this little girl perfectly missed inheriting her parents’ genes. Her mother, as an art exam candidate, had scored near the first-tier cutoff in her college entrance exam. And her father, who studied key national engineering at Tsinghua, was no slouch either. Xitang had always worried about this—her daughter was academically challenged from childhood.

When Yu Dian was about to enter elementary school from kindergarten, Xitang sat on the floor holding her younger son, staring at her daughter’s test paper. She looked up at Zhao Pingjin. “What should we do?”

Yu Dian was riding on Zhao Pingjin’s shoulders, and he held her chubby little legs tightly as he ran around the room with her. The little girl giggled uncontrollably. Zhao Pingjin dismissed it casually. “Our kids don’t need to be outstanding.”

Their son, Qiaoqiao, grabbed the test paper and tried to stuff it into his mouth.

Xitang pulled the paper away and looked at her son. “Qiaoqiao, what’s one plus three?”

Their one-and-a-half-year-old son, Qiaoqiao, had just started learning to speak. Helplessly, he blew a spit bubble and buried his head into Xitang’s arms.

Xitang exclaimed, “Oh no, my little ox! You’ve hurt Mommy!”

Zhao Pingjin immediately picked up his son and hugged his wife. “Your mom is my treasure. What do you want to do?”

Xitang said, “Don’t scare him.”

Little Zhao Qiaoqiao wasn’t scared at all. He sat quietly on the floor sucking his fingers, his black eyes darting curiously toward his father.

Zhao Qiaoqiao was born four years later. Unlike his sister, he didn’t receive the same treatment at birth. Yu Dian was delivered naturally and brought out with Xitang. After kissing his wife, Zhao Pingjin kissed his daughter, his eyes red with emotion but filled with joy. When Zhao Qiaoqiao was brought out by the nurse, Teacher Zhou and Xitang’s stepmother gathered around, politely offering each other turns to hold him—”Grandma holds,” “Nana holds.” After a brief exchange, Teacher Zhou reached out and took the baby. Zhao Pingjin didn’t even hold him because Xitang was still in the operating room getting stitched up.

After the anesthesia wore off, Xitang cried silently from the pain. Zhao Pingjin could only hold her hand tightly. She didn’t dare cry out loud, as elders warned that crying during confinement could lead to lifelong eye problems.

The well-fed baby lay asleep nearby, a sweet smile lingering on his lips.

Zhao Pingjin felt irritated and poked the baby’s cheek. “You little brat, how dare you smile? Do you know how much pain you caused your mother?”

Little Zhao Qiaoqiao burst into tears.

Teacher Zhou heard the commotion and came in.

“Hey, don’t provoke him.” 

“What’s wrong with you as a father?” 

After Qiaoqiao’s birth, due to some initial breathing issues common in newborns, Zhao Pingjin stayed with Xitang and the baby in their suburban home for over three months. 

He would finish work in the city and then return home. 

The night light was on in the room, and Xitang was up feeding the baby. Zhao Pingjin walked over to the next room, kissed his sleeping daughter’s cheek, and then entered the bedroom. When Xitang saw him come in, her sleepy face puckered into a slight pout. Zhao Pingjin went over and sat beside her, pulling her into his arms. Her top was pulled up, and her fair chest was pressed against the infant who was hungrily nursing. Mischievously, he reached out to touch her, but the little boy sucking at her breast suddenly kicked out with his tiny foot, hitting his father squarely. Furious, Zhao Pingjin immediately moved to discipline him, but Xitang slapped his hand away and glared at him. 

Zhao Pingjin froze, quickly retracting his hand. He gently took her hand and kissed the back of it in apology. 

Once Xitang had settled the baby, Zhao Pingjin went downstairs to the kitchen to wash the bottle. Outside in the garden at midnight, the faint glow of moonlight shimmered through the trees. When he returned to the room, Xitang was already asleep. 

Quietly, Zhao Pingjin stepped out onto the terrace at the back of the house. He gazed at the moonlight dancing on the tree shadows reflected in the river across the shore. She had been the beautiful dream of his life, and now she had finally become the moonlight by his pillow. 

Under this moonlight, he tilted his head back slightly, holding back the tears that welled up in the corners of his eyes.

(End of epilogue)

Note: The extras that came after this are from the site 52shuku and apparently aren't in the original book that was published, but we will just keep it up as it has been posted as extras under the library.