Until the car arrived and took them to the hospital.
Huaiyu missed her daytime performance at the Paradise World.
At 6:20, she finally woke up and Mary called to Huaiyu:
"Miss Duan invites you in."
Huaiyu, after rinsing Duan Pingting who had just had her stomach pumped, said, "It's good that you're alright. Don't bottle up your feelings like that in the future—"
Duan Pingting's face was pale:
"I'm not holding it in. Talk to me."
"I have to film a night scene. You should get some rest."
"For a while?"
"Let's do it another day," Huaiyu said, unable to refuse.
"What day? What time? Where? I'll send a car to pick you up. What day?"
Huaiyu felt as if he had fallen into a trap.
He came from the cramped, crowded tenement to the noisy alleyway houses. Then, a car picked him up and stopped in front of a modern Western-style house on Avenue Joffre near Rue Notre Dame.
Stepping through the iron fence, the first thing she saw was a lawn with flowerbeds planted with light purple flowers, the name of which she couldn't recall. She lived on the second floor. Looking up, she saw the glass door to the terrace was closed; through the glass, although she could see everything, she couldn't see anything at all.
Duan Pingting must have known that they had performed at Lingxiao for twenty-one days, selling out the theaters, and then deliberately took a seven-day break to rehearse some new plays in order to whet the audience's appetite before making a comeback. Duan Pingting must have known that he had finished his training and had his own time, which is why she lured him here. — Huaiyu didn't have to come; he just couldn't bear to refuse a young lady who had "survived a calamity." Perhaps he needed this excuse to come.
Many things cannot happen without proper enticement and encouragement. Tang Huaiyu, and even Duan Bipin, began to wonder in their hearts whether that suicide attempt was truly preordained, a "method" they themselves could not explain.
After the servant answered the door and invited Huaiyu inside, he stayed in the servants' quarters and did not come out again.
"Please wait for her, Miss."
Huaiyu saw a black piano in the bright living room, its cold, menacing light reflecting off his own innocence. He casually stepped onto the thick, soft, light pink carpet, its surface as smooth as a woman's flesh. He felt ashamed of his filthy shoes, which made him feel extremely awkward, so he tried to walk very lightly, making his footing almost silent.
On the piano sat a copy of *Life Weekly*, its cover featuring Duan Niangpin. A shovel revealed an interview article: "...Miss Duan's face is beautiful and sweet, brimming with a pure and innocent artistic temperament. Beneath her two slender eyebrows, a pair of large, round, bright black eyes radiate an innocent and carefree light. Her full cheeks are like those of a ripe apple. A harmonious and slender figure, a lively and clever manner, and a voice like Huang Huier's—this is the face of an Eastern beauty."
Miss Duan leads a neat and regular life. She gets up at eight o'clock every morning, washes up, and then reads in both Chinese and English for an hour, writing several sheets of calligraphy. She also often reads novels in her spare time to improve her acting skills. She rarely goes out for evening meetings, usually staying until around ten o'clock.
He's already resting. ...
I just saw the quote: "This actress, with both talent and beauty, was at the beginning of her golden age, with a bright future ahead of her. Yet she said that her favorite colors weren't gold, but purple and pink..."
No wonder the flowerbeds are purple and the carpet is pink. It's a carefully crafted arrangement, meticulously creating a romantic atmosphere for visitors.
Suddenly, a warm breath brushed against her ear, startling Huaiyu so much that she couldn't dodge in time. Before she knew it, Duan Pingting had appeared. She was wearing a slippery, unidentifiable fabric that draped over her body, creating waves even without wind. It was impossible for her to enter the bedroom or leave the main hall; she resembled a glistening white silkworm, supported by its own silk, writhing on its own body.
She had washed her hair, which was still half-wet. She turned on the hairdryer, letting it blow freely, causing her hair to billow and swirl into a chaotic cloud, partially obscuring her right eye. She looked at Huaiyu through the gap in her hair:
"I'll call you Tang, okay? 'Tang' sounds like a foreign name, Tom!"
"No, 'Tang' is a Chinese surname."
"Tang," she called out, "are you reading my interview article?"
Huaiyu immediately covered up: "No, I was just looking at this notice. What is 'artificial blood'?"
"It's in English. Do you speak English?"
"No." Huaiyu paused slightly. "You would, wouldn't you? You say you read English and Chinese for an hour every day—"
"Hey, haha!" Duan Pingting laughed. "You said you didn't read that article? No, huh?"
Huaiyu blushed and felt embarrassed for a while.
"That supplement was Mr. Jin's doing. He advertised it in English in the newspaper, saying it was a foreign product. It was misleading, so everyone bought it, and he made a fortune. I never drink it. Do you want some?"
"Mr. Jin—"
"Don't ask!" Duan Pingting immediately said, "Do you want coffee? I'll make you a cup."
"No need for that."
"No trouble at all, we have a self-heating stove."
They took advantage of the situation and ran away.
As Huaiyu began to sip his first cup of coffee in his life, Duan Pingting suddenly questioned, "Why are you putting on airs with me?"
"You were the one who set up the scaffolding first."
"I'm famous!"
"That's none of my business, and I don't want to know. I'm famous now."
"Shanghai is my home. You really have no idea how popular I am? Have you seen any of my movies?"
Duan Pingting was indignant. How could he not know her status? How could he look down on her time and time again? She angrily kept saying, "I'll find myself."
"The movie isn't finished yet."
"Hey, you country bumpkin. I've made ten movies already. I'm not filming 'Old Regret' these next few days."
"That won't do."
"I'm weak. Have you had your stomach pumped? You have no idea how painful that is. I need to rest. Tang, will you rest with me?"