Chapter 8

Zhao Pingjin was at his home in Beijing.

He had been staying in Beijing for over a month. After the beginning of spring, Beijing had several more snowfalls. He had been commuting back and forth in his car almost every day and hadn’t gone out much. His last trip to Shanghai was to sign a large-scale vehicle dispatch system project in cooperation with the APEC conference. The initial software development work for this project was still being done in Beijing. At the same time, the company had several other large projects, and he had been so busy with work and socializing after returning that he had been quite occupied for a while. When the intelligent dispatch system he developed entered the real-time demonstration stage, Zhao Pingjin stayed up late for meetings intermittently, and finally developed a fever. He handed over his work to his deputy general manager, Li Ming, and took a week’s rest.

It had been almost two months since he last left Shanghai.

Shen Min, who worked as his special assistant, had an additional private task: to forward a copy of Huang Xitang’s schedule from her company to his email regularly. When he was busy, he would just glance at it, and there was really nothing to see. It was usually just a blank page with no more than three lines.

Zhao Pingjin had an infusion at the hospital in the afternoon. In the past few days, his mother, Zhou, had ordered him not to live alone in the Park Hyatt, so he returned to his parents’ residence. When he returned home at night, he opened his phone and looked at those emails again.

Then he called Shen Min and asked what she was doing if she wasn’t filming.

A moment later, Shen Min forwarded another document.

This time, there were two more lines.

--- Actress Huang Xitang’s Work Schedule for April 24 ---

4:00 AM: Wake up

4:30 AM: Depart for early morning group performance filming

5:00 AM: Arrive at makeup room, makeup for one to one and a half hours

7:30 AM: “Rose” film set, “Love in the Jianghu” film set, “Dawn” film set, total of 14 hours of filming

10:00 PM: Finish work, have dinner with crew members

11:00 PM: Return to residence in Hengdian

Zhao Pingjin asked again, “She films so many movies in one day?”

A minute later, Shen Min replied, “People from the company said that she is currently in a slack period, and her next film will start shooting in ten days. During this time, artists usually rest, but Miss Huang is taking on extra jobs herself.”

Zhao Pingjin re-read all the emails Shen Min had sent him.

Her life was truly simple. She lived alone, had no friends, and although she got along well with the people on the crew, people came and went, and she never took the initiative to socialize.

Her only pastime was to have a late-night snack with the crew members after filming, but the people were not fixed, and it was basically whoever she was working with that day, such as group performers or stunt doubles. After eating, she would go home alone.

She was living a virtually isolated life in that small town.

According to the artist information provided by her company, she had signed with Xingyi Entertainment and moved to Hengdian only two or three years ago.

They had broken up five years ago.

He knew she liked acting, but this industry had too many ups and downs, and not many people had a good outcome. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have disagreed with her entering the industry. When Xitang graduated, he wanted her to take the postgraduate entrance exam, but she was filming “Orange Boy” at that time. It was her first time acting in a major film, and she was the lead actress in Lin Yongchuan’s film. She cherished this opportunity very much and had been diligently studying the script three months in advance. She had a list of over twenty books related to the script. Because of this, she didn’t do well in her first postgraduate entrance exam. Zhao Pingjin asked her to take it again, but at that time, there were very good scripts and directors approaching her, and Xitang was wholeheartedly preparing for the script, so she didn’t have time. She wanted to postpone her postgraduate studies temporarily, but Zhao Pingjin strongly opposed her work, and the two of them quarreled frequently.

She left him, and for so many years, she had been silent. He had long forced himself to forget this woman, but he never expected that Huang Xitang, who had been so full of vigor when she graduated, would be willing to play such small roles with no lines.

A maid knocked on the door and asked, “Brother Zhou? I’ve heated up some milk. Do you want some?”

Zhao Pingjin responded and turned off his phone.

The car drove into an old red-brick and black-tiled mansion in Xuhui District.

The wrought iron gate slowly opened. In early summer, the courtyard was full of lush green branches, and rose buds were sprouting pale pink flowers. The parking lot in front of the house was covered with green grass in the cracks of the dark red tiles.

He found this house too big and cold. Every time he came to Shanghai in recent years, if it was for a family visit, he would usually stay at his maternal grandparents’ place. If it was for work, he would usually stay for a short time and simply stay in a hotel.

This mansion, dating back to the Republic of China, had a history of nearly a hundred years. It was completely renovated after the liberation and then renovated again when the government returned it to the Zhou family after the Cultural Revolution. This was an 18th birthday gift from his maternal grandparents’ Zhou family.

Zhao Pingjin got out of the car, and the driver carried his luggage upstairs.

The house was clean, with arched colored round windows, old-fashioned furniture, leather sofas, and long lace curtains. He hadn’t been here for more than half a year.

Everything was the same as before, except for a small box in the bedroom of the second-floor guest room.

It must be Huang Xitang’s.

After a while, the maid came in and said, “Miss Xitang called back and said she will be back from the set around six o’clock this afternoon.”

Ni Kailun had set a lot of conditions, and Zhao Pingjin was too lazy to care. His only requirement was that whenever he was in Shanghai and wanted to see her, she had to come.

Zhao Pingjin went to his room and took a nap.

He woke up a little past three. He dealt with some business in the living room and heard a noise on the stairs.

Half a minute later, someone gently pushed open the living room door.

Zhao Pingjin looked up.

He hadn’t seen her for almost two months, and he was a little dazed. Huang Xitang was standing at the door, wearing a pair of jeans, a white round-neck cotton shirt, and a brown wide-brimmed hat. Her face was both familiar and strange.

She had makeup on and was smiling, a sweet and charming professional smile.

Zhao Pingjin glanced at her, turned back to look at the contract on the computer, and simply said, “Take off your hat.”

Xitang smiled and took off her hat as she was told, revealing a bald head.

Zhao Pingjin glanced at her, almost burst out laughing in anger, “You!”

Xitang touched her head a little embarrassedly, “I’m playing a nun in the new movie.”

Zhao Pingjin stood up and roared angrily, “What kind of lousy movie did Ni Kailun get you into!”

Xitang giggled, “It’s a Hong Kong martial arts director, and the cooperation has high requirements. There are very few actresses willing to shave their heads.”

She was the first woman who could joke around in front of him five years ago, and there hasn’t been anyone else since.

Zhao Pingjin said, “Come here.”

Xitang walked over and sat on the sofa next to him.

Zhao Pingjin couldn’t help but reach out, and Xitang obediently lowered her head and leaned in.

Anyone would want to touch it.

The shape of her head was also beautiful, and even without hair, it didn’t look strange. The soft scalp, the slightly prickly hair roots, the touch in his hand felt very good. She had the familiar scent of fruit on her body, and Zhao Pingjin suddenly felt a bit of sourness in his nose.

He hated this sudden feeling of softening.

His body suddenly felt a little hot.

Xitang moved her head.

He pushed her away and said impatiently, “Get out, I don’t like women without hair.”

Zhao Pingjin didn’t eat at home that night.

Xitang was sitting in the courtyard when she saw him come downstairs. She walked in and asked, “Are you going out tonight?”

Zhao Pingjin changed his clothes and said, “I have a business dinner.”

Xitang said, “Oh.”

Zhao Pingjin looked at her angrily, “I pay you so much money a month, and you can’t even accompany me to a business dinner!”

Xitang mumbled, “What does that have to do with me?”

Zhao Pingjin said disdainfully, “Taking you out would be embarrassing.”

Xitang suggested sincerely, “Why don’t I wear a wig?”

Zhao Pingjin said disdainfully, “It’s ugly.”

He slammed the door and went out to the dinner alone.

When he got home from the business dinner that night, the lights were dim. The maid was waiting in the living room and said, “Mr. Zhao, you’re back.”

Zhao Pingjin loosened his tie and walked upstairs, “Meiyi, make me a bowl of noodles.”

The living room door on the second floor was half-open, but there was no one inside, and no one was in the bedroom either.

Zhao Pingjin walked around and couldn’t find anyone.

Just as he was about to call someone to ask, he paused for a few seconds in the living room and walked towards the smallest room.

It was a small study where the accountant used to do calculations, and later it was changed into a small study. With so many rooms in the house, it was basically unused.

Zhao Pingjin pushed open the door and sure enough, a small figure was curled up in the corner of the sofa, watching a video on a computer.

Xitang turned her head when she heard the sound.

Seeing Zhao Pingjin standing at the door, with his tie loosened and only wearing a clean white shirt, his neat and bright black hair, full forehead, clear brows, and a relaxed expression, there was a slight smile at the corners of his lips.

His face was as white and pure as ivory, and in the dim light, Xitang always seemed to have a glow.

Xitang used to think he was handsome. There were so many handsome boys in the acting department of the Film Academy, but none of them could compare to Zhao Pingjin. In fact, she only realized later that when he laughed heartily and showed his white teeth, there was actually a dangerous look in his eyes at certain moments, like a noble and cruel beast.

It was just that love made people blind.

Xitang liked his face. When she was dating him a long time ago, just seeing his face would make her feel intoxicated.

All these years, she thought she would never see him again.

Zhao Pingjin silently looked at her for a long time, and finally just knocked on the door, saying calmly, “Hiding in this little room late at night, aren’t you afraid of ghosts?”

Xitang immediately regained her composure at that moment, but she hadn’t had time to adjust her expression. Her face was bare, her brows and eyes were still beautiful, but they looked childish and a little haggard, with obvious dark circles under her eyes.

She rubbed her hands and stood up.

“Pour me a glass of water,” Zhao Pingjin sat on the sofa and glanced at her screen. She was watching a TV series, an old Hong Kong TV series called something like “If Heaven Grants Me One More Chance”.

Xitang went to pour water.

She was wearing a small checkered nightgown, barefoot, and bald, looking rather pitiful.

Xitang handed him the water, then sat opposite him, tucking her feet into the sofa. Not knowing what to say, she politely said, “Just got back?”

Zhao Pingjin responded casually, staring at her left eye corner for a long time, and suddenly asked, “Why did you get plastic surgery?”