I changed into a T-shirt and jeans, and it was almost time. The thought of seeing him soon filled me with joy, and I ran out the door, just in time to see his Hyundai driving this way. We both have the virtue of punctuality, which made me very happy.
"Why are you dressed like this?" he asked, frowning, as soon as I got in the car.
"What's wrong? I'm not wearing a tank top, shorts, or flip-flops." I then noticed he was dressed in a suit and tie. "Where are we going? Should I go downstairs and change?"
"Forget it, it's too late. Anyway, you always have the ability to make a formal dress look like a hippie outfit." Before I could even fasten my seatbelt, he stepped on the gas and sped off.
His car finally stopped under the huge poster of "Nights of Bach" in the concert hall. I saw well-dressed men and women walking calmly into the lobby, and I felt like I didn't know what to do with my hands and feet.
"You're not going to tell me this is our show tonight, are you?" I asked, clinging to my last shred of hope.
He shrugged, gesturing for me to get out of the car. I had an urge to lie down and look at my chin. In my twenty-odd years of life, apart from attending a performance on the school playground by that inter-school rock band called "Demon Voice," a desperate, strained attempt to reach the high notes that could be considered a concert, I had never attended a single event that could be called a concert, let alone any highbrow, serious music. I didn't even know when I should applaud.
“I don’t snore when I’m asleep, so don’t worry about me waking you up. Just remember to wake me up when the show ends,” I earnestly instructed Willson. He thought I was joking and patted my head irritably, saying, “Don’t be silly, it was a fantastic show. We thought we’d have to go to London to hear it, but we’re in for a treat.”
I have absolutely no idea what he's talking to me about. Going abroad just to attend a concert? You could buy so many original VCDs with those plane tickets. Is it really necessary?
I also noticed that the concert hall, like the movie theater, sold popcorn and Coke. I couldn't help but wonder why such a high-class place would have such a down-to-earth experience, and whether anyone would patronize it. But seeing it, I really felt a little itchy to drink some. Wilson followed my gaze and immediately said firmly, "NO WAY."
"WILLSON!" A man wearing a tight-fitting shirt with an exaggeratedly large pointed collar, a flash drive dangling from his chest, called out excitedly as he bounced over. He looked to be in his late twenties, but he didn't resemble Willson at all. He lacked any composure, constantly chewing gum, even worse than Yin Tianyu. Despite having Asian features, he had striking blue eyes. I whispered to Willson, "Why does he look like a demon?" Willson quietly slapped the back of my head: "Don't talk nonsense. He's the CEO of Tianyu Portal. He's mixed-race. Don't be so naive." I stuck out my tongue—apologies, the webpage I built on SOHU in one night was paid by this guy who looked like a hairdresser from Yaohan.
"Hi, Wilson, I know, maby, I see you here. And this is..."
“Oh, this is Bubby, and this is SC,” Willson introduced us briefly. But SC immediately interrupted, saying, “Cool, I like your look! Your T-shirt is great. My Chinese name is Li Lianying.”
"What, Li Lianying?" I chuckled. "Who was this genius who gave you that name?"
"It's not some expert, it's me, Daddy."
"God, have you ever thought about getting a DNA test with your 'DADY'?" Willson covered my mouth, nodded to SC, and dragged me away without saying a word while tucking me under his arm.
Willson, his face taut, strode briskly ahead, while I nervously jogged behind. I know my flaws. Back in my sales days, when dealing with clients, I understood the truth that they were my bread and butter, so I could be extremely attentive and considerate, relentlessly pursuing my goals. But unless the other person's relationship with my finances was directly proportional, my emotional intelligence plummeted to -200. I'd offend someone to the point of exhaustion and still think they were lying on the ground, joking with me.
"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?" I asked hesitantly.
Willson ignored me.
"What's wrong? Don't stay silent. I really didn't mean to embarrass you. When he praised me, I got happy and relaxed, and I didn't know what to say." I persisted, but he still didn't say anything.
"At most, I'll only speak if you tell me to; otherwise, I won't open my mouth, okay?"
He finally stopped and said fiercely, "If you ever make me desperately try to hold back my laughter again when I can't laugh, I'll poison your voice."
I knew the typhoon warning had been lifted, so the next step was to change the subject as quickly as possible. I took a couple of steps forward, put my hand in his warm, large palm, and then asked casually, "When does the show start?"
A knowing smile spread across his face, as if the sun had shone on the earth again, and I breathed a sigh of relief—I was completely safe.
The concert wasn't as dull as I'd imagined, because I was completely captivated by the handsome Polish conductor: his baton danced in his hands, transforming the air into a series of exhilarating notes. Not only the orchestra, but I was also swept up in his emotions, my eyes glued to his every move, not even missing a fleeting glance at his hair. I've always believed that everyone has moments of brilliance, moments that usually move and fascinate me deeply. But tonight, this Polish conductor's radiance was so dazzling that I was utterly mesmerized.
Willson was very pleased that I hadn't fallen asleep during the concert, thinking there was still hope for improvement. So he asked me with great interest, "How was it? I wasn't lying to you, was I? A first-class band, first-class music, great, right?"
“Hmm,” I said, equally intrigued, “that commander is really handsome.”
"What?" Willson looked so pitiful after being hit hard. I quickly took his arm and said, "Actually, that female pianist is quite nice, she's just a little chubby."
Willson raised his hands: "OK, I understand. From now on, let's not discuss tonight's concert anymore. Let's go get some late-night snacks."
"Oh," I replied listlessly. Actually, I wanted to share with him the projected profit analysis of renting a stall outside the concert hall to sell glow sticks. But seeing his lack of interest, I had to give up.
“Let’s go to the congee shop. I know a place that makes really authentic congee; you’ll definitely like it,” Willson said while fastening his seatbelt.
"Great!" I, who had never understood the bourgeois sentimentality of "Decadent and Beautiful Flowers Blooming in the Deep Blue Midnight," rarely stayed out this late, especially with him, so I was very excited.
The car had just entered the ring road when Willson's phone started ringing. Seeing him answer with his earpiece, I didn't want to listen to his call, so I turned my head to the window and counted the lampposts along the roadside, betting on whether the number would be odd or even. Even so, I could still tell that his tone during the Korean call was somewhat excited.
"I'm sorry, I can't go with you for a late-night snack. I'll drop you off up ahead, and you can take a taxi home by yourself, okay?" These were the first words Willson said after hanging up the phone.
"Hmm." What else could I say besides that? Actually, I really hoped he could explain something to me, but he showed no interest in doing so at all. I just felt excluded from his world. At that moment, I felt like he was billions of light-years away from me, and this feeling made me very uneasy.
We said goodnight to each other, and as I opened the car door to get out, I suddenly heard him call out to me, "Silly woman!"
"What?" I turned around, only to have his lips sealed against mine. My body went limp, I had no strength left, and I couldn't move. His lips were soft and warm, like an iron smoothing out my irritable emotions, even uprooting the last trace of displeasure.
I didn't lower my waving hand until his car completely disappeared from sight. I checked my watch—oh no, it was almost 9:45! I didn't know if I'd make the last bus. Luckily, I was wearing sneakers, so I began my midnight sprint.
Part One, Chapter Nine
This was the nth time I'd dialed Willson's number, but the voice prompt said his phone was still off. The round-faced policeman sitting across from me was looking at me with increasing suspicion. My childhood instilled reverence for uniforms, coupled with the fact that the phone was always unreachable, made me increasingly uneasy. The self-righteousness I felt when I dragged that unfortunate thug I'd beaten half to death into the police station was slowly slipping away. If that dimwit hadn't confessed everything the moment he walked in, bruised and battered, I'd probably be the one squatting on the floor with his head in his hands right now. Sigh, I wonder who's more unlucky tonight. Not only did I miss my late-night snack with Willson, but on the way there I ran into that scoundrel trying to take advantage of me. I was planning to beat him up and leave to avoid trouble, but then someone nearby called the police. If I left, it would seem like I was in the wrong, so I had to wait for the police to arrive. When I got to the police station to give my statement, I realized I'd forgotten my ID card and temporary residence permit when I left home. I called home, but Yi Rou wasn't there; I wonder what she's been so busy with lately. Xia Mengmeng and Willson's phones were both off. I couldn't find anyone I was close enough to call so late. Suddenly, it felt like I had no one to prove my identity.
The policeman was checking his watch again. I was so anxious that a fine line of sweat broke out on my forehead. Suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind. I remembered the promise of 24-hour standby. And it actually went through right away. After just one ring, I heard Yin Tianyu on the other end say, "Hello!"
I immediately cried out into the phone, as if struck by lightning, "Yin Tianyu, come save me! Bring your passport!"
Yin Tianyu was incredibly shrewd. Within moments of arriving, he was already patting and embracing the police officers who had just been all paperwork, calling them brothers. When he heard that the thug wanted to sue me for assault, he went to the small room where the bastard was being held and did some calming work. He got all the paperwork done in less than half an hour. Those elite security officers not only warmly saw us off but also praised me for ridding the people of a menace, calling me a modern-day Mulan.
As soon as Yin Tianyu stepped outside, he burst into laughter, asking me between laughs, "That kid must be blind to have gone and messed with you. Was it just a coincidence, or does he really have such good skills?"
I couldn't help but feel a little smug: "Don't you know that the person standing in front of you is a three-time consecutive children's martial arts champion?"
"My apologies. But I just heard from the officer that this guy is a pervert. He has already preyed on at least three girls, one of whom was under 16."
My blood boiled, and I gritted my teeth, saying, "If I had known, I would have just cut him in half!"
“Don’t worry, he’s practically dead by now.” Yin Tianyu winked slyly, a fleeting chill crossing his face. Though it was only for a moment, it still sent a shiver down my spine. I immediately thought of the few minutes he spent in that small room: “What did you do to him?”