STYL - 8

A week later, Shen Tang concluded all her business-related activities.

The assistant and the rest of the team were returning to Beijing in the afternoon, while she headed back to Shenzhen alone. There was a direct bus from the city to her village.

Her hometown was a beautiful little fishing village that had been developed into a tourist attraction in recent years.

Her grandfather’s house was by the roadside, with a view of the sea right from the front door.

They owned several houses—one was rented out to villagers for a restaurant, and another to neighbors who ran a guesthouse. Over the years, these neighbors had been kind to her and her grandfather, so she waived their rent.

Her grandfather was handy, and he had transformed their home into something unique. The courtyard was filled with flowers and plants, making it the most popular guesthouse in the village.

Their village was called Haitang Village, with streets lined with begonia flowers.

When she was sent to live with her grandfather at just one year old, he registered her under the name Shen Tang.

“Tangtang Jie.” The assistant stood at the doorway, gripping the suitcase handle but hesitating to speak.

Shen Tang was tying her hair and snapped out of her reverie.

“What is it?” She glanced at the assistant through the mirror.

The assistant sighed inwardly. Even though it was summer in Guangzhou, she felt as if she were standing in the coldest part of the north, overwhelmed by a chill. “The script for That Early Summer ... I put it in your bag.”

Shen Tang didn’t make things difficult for the young assistant. “Alright.”

The assistant exhaled in relief. Sister Li had called earlier, instructing her to remind Shen Tang to read the script and reply as soon as possible.

Shen Tang finished tying her hair and changed into casual wear, preparing for the journey ahead.

The assistant hurried over to hand her sunglasses and a mask. After putting on a sun hat, she was fully covered, looking nothing like the celebrity Shen Tang that most people recognized.

The assistant and driver dropped Shen Tang off at the high-speed rail station. Shen Tang didn’t let the assistant get out of the car. She waved, grabbed her suitcase, and walked forward with the crowd.

Only during moments like this did she feel truly free.

She could do whatever she wanted, eat whatever she craved, without anyone overseeing her.

As a child, she always thought Guangzhou was far from Shenzhen. Now, before the movie she was watching was even halfway through, the train had already arrived.

While the assistant and the team had just reached the airport, Shen Tang was already on the bus heading back to her village. She continued watching the movie she had only partially seen on the train.

It starred Huo Teng, and she used this opportunity to learn more about him.

As the theme song of the movie began to play, the bus arrived at the Haitang Village stop.

Shen Tang removed her earphones, picked up her belongings, and got off.

It had been a month since her last visit. This time, she hadn’t informed her grandfather in advance, wanting to surprise him.

The bus stop was only about fifty meters away from her grandfather’s house.

The wheels of her suitcase made a crisp sound as they rolled along the asphalt road.

Tourists were abundant this season, but no one paid attention to her.

The laughter of children playing on the beach occasionally drifted over.

The owner of the guesthouse was watering the flower beds in front of the door when he heard the sound of luggage wheels behind him. He turned around, intending to ask if the visitor needed accommodation.

“Shen Ge.” Shen Tang took off her sunglasses and greeted him first.

Most people in their village shared the surname Shen, and everyone was somehow related.

Shen Ge’s deeply tanned face broke into a wide smile. “Tangtang’s back! Why didn’t you let me pick you up?” He set down the hose, ready to help her with the suitcase.

Shen Tang: “It’s not heavy. I’ll manage.”

The three-story building at the front served as a guesthouse. Through the courtyard, there were three additional single-story houses—a living room and two bedrooms—where Shen Tang and her grandfather lived.

It was quiet and peaceful.

In winter, the strong sea breeze was blocked by the three-story building in front.

“Grandpa?” Before reaching the living room, Shen Tang began calling out. After shouting four or five times, there was still no response.

The door was tightly shut and wouldn’t budge when she tried to push it open.

She found the key, unlocked the door, and placed her suitcase in the living room.

On the coffee table in the living room, a laptop was open, its screen in sleep mode.

There was also an open notebook on the table, bound in black soft leather.

Shen Tang casually glanced at it, her gaze freezing in place.

The page was nearly filled with writing. The first line was the title of a TV series, followed by some fragmented notes—what episode he had watched each day, along with a few lines of reflections.

This was an old series from many years ago, starring Chen Nanjin.

Nearly two-thirds of the notebook had been used. She flipped through earlier entries and found that every single one documented which Chen Nanjin drama her grandfather had watched on which day, along with notes on how many episodes he had seen that day to avoid forgetting.

Inside the black leather cover were a few three-inch vintage photos with decorative edges, taken forty-eight years ago. Written on them was “In Commemoration of Shen Peng’s First Birthday.”

Back then, Chen Nanjin still bore the surname Shen and was called Shen Peng.

After her grandparents divorced, her grandmother took the child and changed his surname to match hers, becoming Chen.

Now, even the villagers didn’t know that the renowned director Chen Nanjin was her grandfather’s son.

“Tangtang.” From outside, Shen Ge’s urgent voice approached, accompanied by hurried footsteps.

Shen Tang stuffed the photos back inside and flipped to the previous page.

“Tangtang.” Shen Ge gripped the doorframe, staring at the notebook in front of Shen Tang and the now-illuminated laptop screen. He blinked awkwardly, unsure what to say.

“That… those videos were ones I looked up for Grandpa. The membership…” He swallowed nervously. “I also subscribed for him, so please don’t be angry with Grandpa.”

After finishing watering the flowers, he had carried the hose back to the backyard and noticed that Grandpa’s electric tricycle wasn’t in the yard. That’s when he remembered helping Grandpa search for a TV series to watch at noon.

Despite his efforts to prevent trouble, he was too late. Shen Tang had already seen the notebook.

Shen Ge scratched his forehead, his words jumbled. “Grandpa had that serious illness last year… His health has been deteriorating.”

He didn’t know how else to explain.

Awkwardly, he added, “Please don’t blame Grandpa for watching those TV shows. It was me who searched them out for him.”

“It’s fine. How could I blame Grandpa? No parent doesn’t miss their child.”

As she spoke, Shen Tang let out a bitter laugh.

No one had ever missed her.

Shen Ge reminded her: “Grandpa might have gone for a ride by the sea. He should be back soon.”

Shen Tang pulled her suitcase. “I’ll go find Grandpa. Leave the suitcase in the yard—it doesn’t contain anything valuable.”

Shen Ge understood her meaning, pretending he had just returned and hadn’t seen Grandpa’s notebook.

He helped carry the suitcase, following behind Shen Tang, unsure what else to say.

In the corner of the courtyard lay the hose he had used to water the flowers earlier. Shen Ge leaned the suitcase against the wall, wanting to say something to Shen Tang. He crossed his arms and lightly stepped on the hose, letting the remaining water flow downhill.

A thin stream trickled out.

Shen Tang stood there silently, hands in her pockets.

Shen Ge looked up. “Tangtang, given Grandpa’s condition, there’s no telling when he might… pass. He must really want to see you… and your father.”

The last two words were almost whispered, barely audible.

After a long silence,

Shen Tang said softly, “Thank you.”

She pointed outside. “I’ll go look for Grandpa.”

Bathed in the glow of the setting sun, Shen Tang walked along the coastline.

Tourists passed by continuously, occasionally glancing back at her, drawn by her demeanor. For the moment, no one connected her fully-covered appearance to the star Shen Tang.

Shen Ge’s words echoed in her ears.

Only a few people knew that Chen Nanjin was her father. Shen Ge’s family was the only one in the village aware of this secret. The villagers assumed she had been abandoned by her parents and taken in by her kind-hearted grandfather.

Shen Tang tilted her head toward the sea. The tide was rising.

Memories surged forth with the waves and foam.

Years ago, when her grandmother left this place with her father, he was only a few years old.

More than forty years ago, this was an extremely poor fishing village, and her grandfather’s family was the poorest in the village. Her great-grandparents had been bedridden for years.

Unable to bear such a hopeless life, her grandmother divorced resolutely.

Shen Tang’s thoughts drifted as she recalled her family’s history. Her existence had complicated her mother’s marriage into a wealthy family and derailed her father’s rising acting career. When her maternal grandfather discovered that her mother had secretly eloped and married, he was furious. At just 22 years old, her mother was already a parent.

Her grandfather believed her father had manipulated his daughter for their family fortune. Determined to end the relationship, he used every means possible to force her mother to sever ties with her father completely. Marrying into wealth was challenging, but so was marrying a wealthy heiress. Even after having a child, their marriage remained unrecognized by her maternal family.

By then, cracks had already formed in her parents’ relationship after the honeymoon phase ended. With her grandfather’s relentless interference and her mother losing financial support while her father struggled to find work, their conflicts escalated. Ultimately, they quietly divorced.

During this time, both her parents were abroad, and few people witnessed their marriage or the birth of their daughter. Later, when a Hong Kong entertainment journalist exposed the secret Las Vegas wedding of the then-rising actor Chen Nanjin, they refrained from naming her mother due to fear of her grandfather’s influence. Subsequently, her grandfather managed to suppress all media coverage.

For her mother, an heiress, Shen Tang’s existence was a burden. If word got out, her family would become gossip fodder in elite social circles. To prevent this, her grandfather decided to give her up for adoption.

Her grandmother felt a twinge of guilt—after all, Shen Tang was her son’s bloodline—but couldn’t bring herself to keep her either. Eventually, she sent Shen Tang to live with her ex-husband in the countryside. By then, her grandfather had remarried and started a new life without children, living modestly but happily.

Knowing her ex-husband and his second wife were kind-hearted and wouldn’t jeopardize Chen Nanjin’s career, her grandmother left them a substantial amount of money as compensation and child support.

Later, her mother married a wealthy man befitting her status and bore two children. Even now, her husband still loved her deeply—a fairy tale romance among the elite. Meanwhile, her father remarried and had another child, Chen Yinao, becoming a model husband and father admired in the entertainment industry.

For over twenty years, everyone lived happily.

No one remembered Shen Tang.

No one missed her.

When she was little, she once told Shen Ge that perhaps her name should have been Shen Yu—meaning “extra” or “superfluous.”

She felt like an unwanted surplus.

Perhaps the only place she wasn’t considered superfluous was with her grandfather and his second wife.

In her heart, these were her only two family members: her grandfather and his second wife, who shared no blood relation with her but raised her with care. To Shen Tang, this woman wasn’t just her step-grandmother; she was her savior, the sole stroke of luck in her otherwise unfortunate life.

But fate had taken even that away when her step-grandmother passed away. Now, her grandfather was ill too. No amount of money could heal him.

All she wanted was for her two beloved family members to live well—but even that simple wish felt impossibly hard to fulfill. She didn’t know whom to turn to for justice.

“Tangtang!” Her grandfather rode toward her on his electric scooter, visibly thrilled to recognize his granddaughter immediately.

Shen Tang turned sharply at the sound of her name, still gazing at the sea.

“Grandpa.”

The waves carried memories away as they rolled back into the ocean.

Shen Tang sprinted toward her grandfather.

“You came back without calling! How long have you been waiting? Are you hungry?” her grandfather asked, his voice brimming with excitement.

“I just got home. I wanted to surprise you,” Shen Tang replied, climbing onto the backseat of the electric tricycle just like she did as a child, resting her hands on her grandfather’s shoulders.

Since falling ill, her grandfather’s body had begun to stoop. The broad, warm shoulders of her childhood were gone forever. Still, Shen Tang sat securely and said, “Let’s go for a ride!”

Her grandfather beamed, his smile stretching wide.

Now frail and unable to walk far without tiring, he relied on the scooter to get around. Before night fell, he took Shen Tang on a leisurely loop along the coastal road.

The sea breeze whipped her long hair into the air, and the setting sun cast shimmering ripples across the vast ocean.

When they returned home, it was already late. Shen Ge was waiting by the gate and helped park the scooter in the yard. Leaning on his cane, her grandfather noticed Shen Tang’s suitcase still sitting in the courtyard, which eased his earlier worries.

“I couldn’t find the keys,” Shen Tang casually remarked, pretending nonchalance.

Her grandfather retrieved the keys and unlocked the door. He had worried about what Shen Tang might think if she saw his notebook. After all, both her parents had abandoned her, and no one else acknowledged her—a wound that never fully healed.

He never mentioned Chen Nanjin in front of her.

Once inside, he headed straight for the coffee table. Thankfully, Shen Tang pushed her suitcase into her room. “Grandpa, is the new laptop working well?” she asked, trying to steer the conversation toward something mundane.

“Yes, it works fine,” her grandfather replied, closing the laptop and notebook before taking them to his room.

Her grandfather was in good spirits tonight, and Shen Tang stayed with him until 8:30 PM. Exhausted, he took his medicine and went to bed.

Back in her own room, Shen Tang locked the door behind her. Her bedroom had been renovated, complete with an en-suite bathroom. After a quick shower, she lay down. This day felt longer than a lifetime.

It was only 9:05 PM—far earlier than she usually slept. Tossing and turning restlessly, she turned on the light and pulled out the script for That Early Summer . She flipped through barely two pages before slamming it shut, tossing it onto the bedside table, and turning off the light.

That Early Summer was set against the backdrop of Shenzhen’s decades-long development, chronicling the entrepreneurial struggles and romances of two women and one man during that era. Over time, none of them remained the same person they once were.

Shen Tang closed her eyes, trying not to dwell on the script. But Shen Ge’s words kept echoing in her mind, along with the slightly crooked handwriting in her grandfather’s notebook.

Her phone vibrated—it was Jiang Chengyu calling.

Their last contact had been in Xiamen when she’d called him.

“Hello,” she answered softly, her voice gentler than usual.

“Are you asleep?”

“No, I’m lying in bed.” She paused. “What time is it there? Day or night?”

“I’m back in the country. I’m in Guangzhou.”

“That’s pretty close,” Shen Tang said. “I’m in Shenzhen, at home.”

Jiang Chengyu knew she’d mentioned wanting to visit her grandfather.

“How long do you plan to stay?”

“I’m not sure. I want to spend more time with him.”

As they spoke, there was a knock at the door.

Jiang Chengyu walked to his hotel room door. He hadn’t ordered room service.

“Jiang Chengyu, it’s me.”

It was Tian Qinglu’s voice.

Jiang Chengyu opened the door slightly, the call still ongoing.

Tian Qinglu hadn’t been able to reach him in the hotel lobby, so she came upstairs directly.

She was still dressed in her business attire from dinner—a formal skirt suit.

Jiang Chengyu cracked the door open. “Why are you here?”

Tian Qinglu didn’t notice he was on the phone. “You came all the way to Guangzhou to see me and helped me so much. I must repay you properly. Let’s have a drink.”

On the other end of the line, Shen Tang listened silently to their exchange, realizing he hadn’t come to Guangzhou for business but to see someone else.

Jiang Chengyu spoke into the phone. “I’ll call you back later.”

He ended the call.

Tian Qinglu hesitated. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“No.” Jiang Chengyu kept his hands in his pockets, not inviting her inside. “There’s no need to be polite. My schedule has changed—I’m heading to Shenzhen soon. Drinks can wait. When you return to Beijing for the New Year, I’ll treat you.”

Tian Qinglu fell silent for two seconds. “I might not go back.”

She chuckled bitterly, mocking herself. “Yan Heyu fears being forced into a marriage alliance by his family—he thinks I don’t feel the same pressure. Does he really believe I’m still the naive girl who loved him blindly?”

Jiang Chengyu didn’t want to meddle in her marital arrangements with Yan Heyu. “Next time you’re in Guangzhou, you can host.”

Tian Qinglu composed herself after her emotional outburst. “You’re leaving for Shenzhen tomorrow?”

Jiang Chengyu nodded. “Earlier than planned.” He didn’t elaborate further.

Tian Qinglu had originally intended to discuss business over drinks tonight. It seemed she’d need to visit him in Shenzhen instead.

Realizing his urgent change in plans likely meant something important, she bid farewell. “Then I won’t keep you.”

With a gesture to stay in touch, she turned and left briskly.

Jiang Chengyu closed the door and returned Shen Tang’s call.

She didn’t pick up, hanging up immediately and sending a message instead: [Nothing to talk about. I’m going to sleep. Goodnight. P.S.: If you want to explain anything, leave a message—I’ll see it when I wake up.]

Jiang Chengyu chuckled softly, patiently explaining: [An old friend from the neighborhood. She has someone she likes. Her business ran into trouble, and she was planning to visit me in Beijing. Since I’m heading to Shenzhen anyway, which is close, I landed in Guangzhou instead.]

After reading his explanation, Shen Tang turned off her phone and set it aside. Her mind was now preoccupied with Jiang Chengyu, pushing her own troubles to the back of her mind. In a rare moment of calm, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

She slept soundly, expecting to wake at dawn, but was startled awake in the middle of the night by a phone call.

Bleary-eyed, Shen Tang checked the time—1:10 AM.

Had Jiang Chengyu gotten drunk and decided to call her?

When she answered, she heard the wind howling on the other end.

“Are you outside?”

“Yes,” Jiang Chengyu replied, shielding himself from the wind. “The sea breeze is strong here at night.”

Shen Tang froze, suddenly sitting upright. “Where are you?”

“Outside your building.” Jiang Chengyu buttoned his suit jacket with one hand. “All the guesthouses and hotels in Haitang Village are fully booked.”

Shen Tang quickly turned on the light and began searching for clothes. “You… why are you here?”

Jiang Chengyu’s tone was matter-of-fact. “If you’re here, where else would I go?”