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When Zhang Momo arrived at the Qianhui Restaurant, the clock had just struck twelve. However, a phone call from Song Jiakai left her in a difficult position. He was caught in traffic and wouldn’t arrive any time soon, asking her to wait in the private room. Yet Zhang Momo stood outside the “Heqing Hall” for a long while, still feeling it best not to go in. The laughter coming from within made it clear there were far more people inside than just two.

“I told you not to come along. Song Er has something serious to discuss—too many people, and it’ll be hard to talk.”

“Didn’t we just want to meet his wife? We’ll leave after seeing her for a moment. You guys can say whatever you want.”

Zhang Momo pressed her lips into a smile and was just about to turn and walk back to the sofa in the main hall, when a loud male voice from within instantly rooted her to the spot.

“I heard she’s Xiang Zuo’s sister-in-law? So now Song Er’s going to be Xiang Zuo’s brother-in-law?”

“Enough with that guy—don’t mention that stone-faced man! Always acting so high and mighty, who knew he’s actually impotent!”

A burst of raucous laughter spread throughout the room, and Zhang Momo heard it all clearly. Her head buzzed, and her face instantly turned pale.

“Impotent, you know, can’t perform! Didn’t you see what was posted online? His wife was still a virgin when another man slept with her! Such a beautiful woman and he couldn’t do anything—let her go out and have an affair, even got photographed. What a pro at wearing a green hat! Shows off their lovey-dovey marriage on the surface, starts some ‘Nianqing’ Foundation, what a waste.”

“Didn’t they say that’s why he got divorced?”

“Why else? Who wants to wear that hat? Besides, the girl wouldn’t have put up with it. So pretty, why waste her life with someone who can’t get it up?”

“Shut up, all of you,” came another male voice. “Who’s got the guts to say it to his face? If President Xiang stamped his foot, you’d all be crying.”

“Come on, he’s just relying on his connections and money. There are plenty waiting to watch him fall. He acts all upright, but everyone knows about this now. It’s not just one person saying it—can he shut up the whole public? He’s even got a new nickname, you know? The staff at his company gave it to him: not ‘Xiang Zuo’ but ‘Xiang Xia’—always down, never up…”

Another round of crude, unrestrained laughter erupted. In the midst of it, Zhang Momo’s body grew rigid; she forced herself to leave the restaurant step by step. She couldn’t recall how she made it down the stairs or out the door—her senses only returned when she found herself standing on the street.

It was noon in the bustling commercial district, traffic streaming endlessly by. The sun overhead was glaringly bright, making her head ache. She couldn’t keep standing, so she felt her way to the edge of a flowerbed and sat down. Yet the air around her felt cold, every breath a chill in her lungs. She didn’t know how long she sat there alone; only when her phone began to ring impatiently in her bag did Zhang Momo come back to herself.

“Babe, where are you?”

It was Song Jiakai’s anxious voice on the other end. He sounded relieved when she answered.

“Momo? Why aren’t you saying anything? Momo?”

It took Zhang Momo a long time to force out, through stiffened lips, a single sentence. “Something urgent came up, I’m not coming. Bye.”

When she returned to the office, Dong Fei was throwing a tantrum; her eyes red, stabbing at a blank sheet of paper with a pen, muttering curses under her breath. Zhang Momo barely had the energy to walk, let alone ask what was wrong. Yet Dong Fei gave her a strange look, hesitated as if to speak, and then followed her into the general manager’s office.

She came in after her, but Zhang Momo didn’t acknowledge her. Dong Fei racked her brain for an opening line, but Zhang Momo’s eyes remained unfocused, staring at the floor. At last, Dong Fei couldn’t bear it and blurted out her troubles first.

“Momo, I did something wrong. Do you think… I should go apologize to President Xiang?”

The mention of “Xiang” jerked Zhang Momo back to reality. As if waking from a dream, her scattered gaze finally landed on Dong Fei’s face, but her heart felt suspended in midair. Clutching a fountain pen in both hands, she asked, “What happened with Xiang Zuo now?”

Dong Fei lowered her head, her face full of regret. “A high school classmate I hadn’t seen in years asked me to dinner the other day. I was happy, and we chatted idly over the meal. Somehow, we ended up talking about our company, about you, then about Zhang Nianqing, and finally about President Xiang. My classmate casually remarked, ‘It must be a blessing to marry President Xiang’… I couldn’t help myself…” As she spoke, Dong Fei’s face scrunched up, “I just blurted it out, you know? Besides, I never liked how Zhang Nianqing treated you, so I said, ‘What blessing? President Xiang doesn’t even care about Zhang Nianqing’…”

“And then?” Zhang Momo’s heart sank; she stood up from the desk, staring straight at Dong Fei. Across from her, Dong Fei shakily handed over a newspaper. The glaring headline sent Zhang Momo straight back into an icy abyss.

“Review of This Year’s Top Ten Divorced Celebrities—No. 1: Shenglian’s President Xiang Zuo; Insiders reveal marital breakdown due to incompatibility in the bedroom—young wife neglected and straying, leading to divorce…” Most sensational of all, beneath the article was a feature on white-collar sexual satisfaction: “According to incomplete statistics, about 20% of senior white-collar workers or executives suffer declining libido or even dysfunction due to constant stress and overwork…”

With trembling hands, Zhang Momo ripped the newspaper to shreds, crumpled it, and threw it on the floor. Still unsatisfied, she stomped on it twice. But the more she stomped, the more powerless she felt. She knew, soon enough, even worse speculation, ridicule, and slander would erupt in countless newspapers and online platforms. She had only one pair of hands and feet—how could she tear it all up, stomp it all out?

“I’m sorry, President Zhang.” Dong Fei hadn’t expected Zhang Momo to react so strongly; guilt made her switch to a formal address. “I didn’t know… I never thought my classmate would do this! I only knew she was interning as a reporter somewhere, but I had no idea she was so cunning…”

“Enough!” Zhang Momo had no strength to listen further, slumping in her chair with her head in her hands. “Don’t say any more. Just, don’t mention this to anyone else, okay? This isn’t anyone else’s business, isn’t it pointless gossiping behind someone’s back?”

Her words, stripped of courtesy and full of sharpness, made Dong Fei feel even more remorseful. She pursed her lips and slunk out. Zhang Momo, meanwhile, didn’t lift her head from her arms for a long time. She didn’t know human imagination could be so terrifying. Just yesterday, upon learning the truth, she had felt only anger and a desire for justice. Clearly, the one who should be condemned was the man who took advantage of another, spread illicit photos everywhere, and had no moral bottom line! So how did the tide turn so abruptly?

Nianqing had suffered enough, but in the end, she had her own lapse in judgment. Had she not chosen to drink herself unconscious alone at a bar, she never would have encountered such misfortune. But what had Xiang Zuo done wrong? That man lived with utmost seriousness; he disciplined himself so harshly that he took cold showers year-round to toughen his will—there wasn’t a single stain on his character. Where had he gone wrong? Why must he be nailed to a cross from which he could never redeem himself?

Zhang Momo covered her face. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t bring herself to lower her hands. She didn’t want to look at anything in this world, not even herself… When she finally opened her eyes, it was Song Jiakai who woke her.

“How did you fall asleep at your desk?” he asked, reaching to touch her forehead. “Are you feeling unwell?”

Zhang Momo rubbed her eyes, which were painfully dry. Her face felt taut, as if she’d been crying, though she couldn’t recall when. Checking the time on the wall, it was clear Song Jiakai had come straight from lunch with his friends. She felt a nameless pang of guilt, not knowing what to say.

“Still mad at me? You know how traffic is in this city—unless you sprout wings, there’s no way through…” He took her hand and gently stroked it. His hands were fair, unlike his own, which were tanned and glowing with a bronze sheen from years of outdoor running. Zhang Momo frowned deeply, as if trying to squeeze every memory of that other man from her mind, and finally managed a smile.

“I’m not mad. What’s the point? Being angry takes energy, don’t you know?”

Song Jiakai grinned broadly. “By the way, there’s a CB Bank cocktail party tonight—come with me, have something to eat?”

At that moment, she had no appetite for anything, but as she was about to refuse, she caught sight of the eager look on Song Jiakai’s face. The “no” she was about to utter stalled and turned into a quiet “okay.” Only then did he relax and smile. “I was worried you’d say you weren’t in the mood and didn’t want to go. My parents specifically asked me to bring you—they say they haven’t seen you in ages, and they miss you even more than their own son.”