"Xiao Dan, you're not ruthless enough... you just won't go any further!"
Dandan's face flushed instantly, and all the blood rushed to her head. She stared at Jin Xiaofeng in horror.
Like an assassin whose dagger suddenly appears.
She froze. The cup shattered, and she seemed to freeze as well. Her ten fingers were unable to retract for a moment, like a cat leaping out with its claws outstretched, but before it could land, it was frozen solid in mid-air by a sudden blizzard.
All I could hear were his words: "...why won't you hit it harder!"
The sound was as loud as a gong, growing louder and louder with each strike, possessing great power, as it pounded and attacked her temples.
Her scheme was exposed, and it became sinister—completely unnoticed by him, deep within her heart. With a moment's hesitation, he saw through her. When did he realize this?
Dandan was still angry. What she thought was a flawless plan suddenly turned out to be childish and ridiculous. Life and death were predestined. Yes, but Jin Xiaofeng, this ruthless devil, was still determined to manipulate everything into his own hands.
She felt utterly humiliated. She had never accomplished anything significant in her life. And now, things had gone awry.
Despite his throbbing pain, he pulled out a pistol and pointed it at her: "Don't come any closer!"
She recognized the pistol. She had used it.
He raised his head, giving his final instructions with a mixture of pain and authority, his demeanor proud and his features sharp; even in his final moments, he was still a hero. He let his cheeks continue to change color, his veins bulging, his wrinkled skin seemingly regaining its elasticity; his prime had returned, and his tone was commanding:
"First: Let my photos and interviews be published normally, so the world knows I can hold on. Second: I spent ten thousand yuan on a fine elm coffin; my funeral must be grand, followed by a large fire, and my ashes scattered in the Huangpu River. Third: Leave the funeral arrangements to Cheng Shilin, not Shi Zhongming. I've never thought highly of Shilin, but today he's the only one truly loyal. Fourth: I won't allow you to take a single step closer; I want to die on my own—"
Dandan stared intently, her smile tinged with sarcasm as he gave his final instructions.
She stepped forward, one step at a time.
He "dealt with" Tang Huaiyu, but how could he let it go so easily and just end it all himself? Shi Zhongming told her, "Tang Huaiyu isn't coming anymore; Mr. Jin dealt with him!"
She suddenly lunged at the bedside, baring her teeth, determined to take care of herself even if she was on her last legs!
With a roar, Dan Dan covered the mouth and nose of the fallen hero with whatever she was holding, covering his head and face. The soft satin blanket was slippery and difficult to handle. The three struggled frantically, unable to escape.
She used all her life's energy, every ounce of her flesh and blood, to press down on him with murderous intent, striving to reach the top. Beneath the pillow, a turbulent, terrifying entanglement surged; she gritted her teeth, preventing him from rolling around, from turning over. She wanted to turn his haven of tenderness into a suffocating wasteland.
Even as she was so devastating, she couldn't help but feel drowsy and confused.
—On that day, they waited until the midday sun, but the person they were supposed to come never arrived. Instead, they saw Shi Zhongming…
She was utterly desperate.
Over the next ten days, however, she was filled with desire again. The dark brown powder was placed in a small glass bottle, looking like a condiment from afar and up close. Should she consume it all at once? No, that would be too easy. Dandan calculated precisely, administering it day by day, slowly. Shi Zhongming certainly hadn't told her. It turned out that the tonic, "artificial blood," contained a small amount of septicemia bacteria. Mild septicemia bacteria could promote metabolism and make the liver more active, but the dosage had to be strictly controlled; too much at once would become poison.
Dandan died day by day, and the septicemia slowly multiplied in his body, doubling in size every minute. During this multiplication, there were no signs of poisoning whatsoever, only fatigue, palpitations, and pain. Mr. Jin enjoyed the noodles Dandan had made: plain noodles, shredded pork noodles, shrimp noodles, tripe noodles, spare rib noodles, eel noodles… and two large cases of Coca-Cola. Everything concealed its dark brown color; the chaos was the foundation of her revenge plan.
Her calculations were accurate; in less than ten days, he would wither away. His complex and somber heyday was over.
He hadn't used the pistol; he could have killed her first and then satisfied himself. But—perhaps, he couldn't bring himself to do it. She had a slight doubt; was he really unable to bear it? It wasn't until Dandan lifted the covers to look at him that her face turned bright red, her expression a complex and bewildered mix of emotions. He stammered, as if burdened with unspeakable secrets.
Now, he died a martyr's death, half-heartedly, but the pistol he held tightly never fired a single shot.
At that moment, I realized he was being sincere.
Dandan's first man.
Jin Xiaofeng shouldn't even have died by his own hand. —However, thinking deeper, he also died at the hands of the very enterprise and woman he had built. To put it bluntly, he died in a beautiful but tragic accident. How could ordinary people experience such twists and turns?
Because of the fight, Dandan was like a deflated Coca-Cola bottle, leaving only an empty, green glass bottle and still liquid that refused to bubble.
The bed was a mess, his pockets spilling out of his bedding. She saw it—it was practically a will, wasn't it? It was the receipt for the top-quality elm coffin from Hongfu Changsheng Trading Company, ten thousand yuan. No matter how utterly defeated he was, he must have already planned his affairs after death. Otherwise, who would have taken care of it if not him? The receipt also contained the phone number of Cheng Shilin, his only loyal follower who had once been banished from the palace for him: 93702.
A corner of the photograph was visible, and she jerked back sharply—it was herself! A still from the TV series "The Extraordinary Woman of Northeast China": she was a peasant's daughter, her long braids and rough clothes from an era when her youthful days, her vibrant green, faded with the approaching night. —She transformed into a treacherous concubine plotting to usurp the throne in the Forbidden City.
Opposite to her, before these stills have even been released, lies her rival, Tang Huaiyu. She firmly believes that the person who murdered him is already lying dead beside her; her great revenge is complete, and she has no more dreams or anxieties.
Night has fallen, and lights are beginning to twinkle everywhere; Shanghai at night is vibrant again.
She has no man left.
It wasn't that she couldn't bear to let go, but rather, why did it have to end like this? It's strange; playing the murderer brought her no satisfaction whatsoever, no sense of catharsis. It was like making a movie—the only movie she could never complete in her life. The feeling back then was excruciating, like clenched fists piercing her skin, sleepless nights. She didn't have the capacity to hate Jin Xiaofeng, Tang Huaiyu, or even Duan Hunjia, because the thread had run its course, she was used to the ways of the world, and looking back, the scenery remained the same. She knew she was utterly hopeless.
I knelt like that forever, never changing my posture, until my legs went numb, and my heart went numb too. The clock in the room stopped again.
She knelt before the corpse, letting the darkness engulf her.
Her first man. He loved her so much!
Her cheeks itched, and a string of tears, the source of which was unknown, streamed down her face. For no apparent reason, she began to sing.
The willow leaves are so sharp!
Willow leaves quickly filled the sky.
Thinking of my beloved brother, such a loving man...
My love,
My little sister only has eyes for you.
One night, oh, husband and wife, oh,
A hundred nights of longing...
Dandan sang softly, not a single word clear, so much so that it was only much later that she realized she was singing a distant and melancholic song called "Cave Dwelling".
The girls loved to sing it. The Kiln Tune.