Upon hearing the first piece of news, Huaiyu felt a great weight lifted from his heart—only now did he realize that he hadn't wanted to. Unable to hide his relieved smile, he heard her continue:
"Mr. Jin, you've really messed up! Ha!"
"Dumping the stove?"
"Rumors are circulating in the industry that Day and Night Bank is just an empty shell, a rotten tooth with decay, unable to withstand any setbacks. Hey, making movies? He wants to see me fail? That's going to be tough—"
As she spoke, her incomparably beautiful face, like a blooming flower, reappeared its former allure—glowing, devilish, and full of pleasure.
Her hands, too, were gleaming in the snow, her nails glistening, her pointed claws shaped like almonds, their red hue tinged with purple—a color of poisoning.
"Why?" Huaiyu asked in surprise, "He went bankrupt overnight?"
"We can't afford to offend the even more powerful Dahaojie. Look, there's always someone better."
"Is there really someone you can't afford to offend?"
"Those in official positions will be in deep trouble."
"That guy surnamed Jin, he helped out quite a bit, huh? Now look what he's done!" Huaiyu sighed with schadenfreude. He was in this mess because of him, and now he was in this mess too. Huaiyu downed his drink in one gulp. Suddenly, the wine choked him. He muttered to himself:
"Will I be able to get up again?"
Duan Pingting listened, still smiling:
"Even his capable assistants have become ineffective; look at Shi Zhongming, look at everyone around him—"
Huaiyu suddenly could no longer hear the strange voice and laughter opposite him. Beside him…beside him… This “thing” seemed to have bumped into him hard; he hesitated and stammered in his heart before finally uttering it aloud:
Does she know?
"Her? That slut Song Mudan? How much does that country bumpkin know? She's probably still in the dark, dreaming of becoming a star—not everyone can be a star!"
Huaiyu struggled for a long time, and finally he also made a strange sound that even he himself could not recognize:
"I have to tell her. So she can protect herself."
Duan Pingting was taken aback, her brows furrowing slightly.
Even though Mudan treated him so badly, in this critical moment, he went to save her instead?
It's ridiculous. He never thought about protecting himself; he went to protect her rival.
"She treated you like this, and you're still so weak and spineless? What is she anyway? She'd love for that guy surnamed Jin to sell her off to pay off his debts!"
"She... is just a childhood friend." Huaiyu realized this was far from enough to sustain him; however, he was determined to pull her out of her predicament. Ancient plays always emphasized loyalty and brotherhood; how could he betray that principle and try to persuade the woman before him?
"Qiuping—"
That single call brought tears to her eyes. A melody drifted from somewhere, stirring her heart. She looked at him sadly, and he called her by her long-buried real name—that utterly common name. Her most cherished idol. She said, each word distinct, "Don't go!"
She kissed him with all her might, her kisses indistinct:
"You, you, don't go! I'm scared!" It's too dangerous! She'll lose him.
He tried to comfort her: "Listen to me, listen to me—I'll tell her the situation and persuade her to go back to Beiping. It's still possible for her to turn back now; I can't just stand by and watch her die. Qiuping, please listen to me, okay?—Even if she has a thousand faults, it's only because she's young and narrow-minded. You're a little older than her, so you should just let it go—"
Before she could explain herself, Duan Pingting's grave seemed to fall silent, as if she had just finished speaking. She stopped kissing, stopped thinking, stopped all speculation and resentment.
fear!
Yes, it was terrifying. Nothing else mattered but "age," her fatal flaw. She would always, always be a little older, forever unable to defeat her. It was because of age. She couldn't help but slump down, and in that slump, she saw a distant, beautiful figure in the large mirror. One second she looked at it, the next she was even older, and the familiar figure from just moments before was dead, unable to escape death. Her youth was about to be wagered on this one moment, and she had to snatch it back.
She forced herself to tremble:
“If you insist on going… go then. Go, go, go!” she urged him. “Go, don’t come back!” The repeated “go”s contradicted her true feelings.
Huaiyu emphasized:
"In Beiping, there is another person waiting for Peony."
"Yeah?"
Duan Pingting thought about it and found the situation suspicious: "Then why did she stay in Shanghai? Why did she go with that guy surnamed Jin? Who is she trying to impress?"
“Qiuping,” Huaiyu realized the most important question: “How do I find her?”
Oh, of course you can't find her. Do you think just anyone can find Mr. Jin's woman? This connection has to be "bought," at a high price. She's going to inquire for him? Buy for him? There's no such thing as a free lunch. Paving the way for those two to meet?
How would I know?
Huaiyu's mind raced, and he put on his clothes to go out. He had also thought of that. Duan Pingting made a last-ditch effort:
"Are you really going? What location should we meet? In full view of everyone, wouldn't that be like provoking a tiger?"
Upon hearing this, Huaiyu became even more stubborn: "I know a quiet place..."
He has already made arrangements and has the money; he is going to:
"Please, just let me go this once, okay?"
The door was finally closed gently.
Facing the large cream cake adorned with a flower, the wine she hadn't finished, the uncertain man, and herself—still beautiful but not secure in her position—Duan Pingting suddenly wiped her eyes.
She burst into wild laughter and smashed the cake to pieces, leaving a mess on the floor.
"Fine! It's either you or me!"