Five

In a rush, she hurried back to the company, her phone ringing incessantly the entire way—every call was from an employee submitting a resignation. When Zhang Momo finally stood before the inconspicuous sign of “Tongzhi Creative Advertising Company,” she hesitated for a long time, unsure whether there was any point in going inside at all. It was a tiny advertising firm, inside and out, with five employees; now, all of them had been poached by Shenglian. Upon hearing the news, Zhang Momo could do nothing but laugh in exasperation.

That man was truly ruthless beyond redemption. Sabotaging her company's business was not enough; now he seemed determined to leave her as the last general standing.

Only when a young girl with a ponytail pushed open the door from inside did Zhang Momo call out in surprise.

“Dong Fei, why are you still here?”

“Ms. Zhang, I’m staying with you!”

Dong Fei’s cheeks were puffed in indignation, her resolve as unwavering as a soldier cutting off his own retreat. That one sentence truly astonished Zhang Momo; in the face of Shenglian’s tempting offer, there was actually someone who would righteously choose to stay at this small advertising firm? Did such people really exist in this world?

“I’m not an ungrateful person! Ms. Zhang, when I first joined the company, I couldn’t even use CorelDraw properly—it was you who taught me every stroke and line. I can’t do something so heartless!”

Looking at the girl’s face, brave as if heading to her doom, Zhang Momo, weighed down by sorrow and helplessness, found herself unexpectedly amused.

“Dong Fei, plenty of people work for years and still can’t get into Shenglian. Now you happen to have such a good opportunity…” Of course, what was considered a “good opportunity” for others was, to her, a cursed cross to bear. “Thank you, but as you can see, there’s only the two of us left here. There’s really no future for you…”

“So what! Ms. Zhang, you can just hire new people! Anyway, I’m sticking with you! If you really don’t want to keep running the company, the two of us can go apply for designer jobs somewhere else—you be the manager, I’ll still be your little helper!”

Suddenly, Zhang Momo realized that the storm clouds that had beset her for days had miraculously vanished with this girl’s lighthearted words. She’d been wallowing in misery, as though life had become unbearable—but was it really so dire?

Looking at her “little helper,” whose round eyes brimmed with encouragement and hope, Zhang Momo took a deep breath and linked arms with the girl.

“Come on, the boss is treating you to dinner tonight! Afterwards, we’ll celebrate all night at ‘Nightfall’—to welcome the company’s new future!”

“Nightfall”—a name befitting its atmosphere. In the bustling nighttime along a respectable street, its sign was the most dazzling and colorful. The entire two-story façade was extravagantly adorned with all manner of unnameable lights; a line of beautiful hostesses in elegant cheongsams stood in formation, each one bowing as you entered.

The grand lobby’s décor was nothing short of lavish; under the dazzling yet dim stage lights, a scruffy man was crooning an old nostalgic song. In a private room on the northwest side, the door stood half open; from inside, a voice seeped out, grumbling in a tone at odds with the venue’s carefree entertainment.

“Look, Left Master… can’t you go home and spend some time with your wife? Just a few months ago, right after your wedding, you’d race home after work every day—nothing could make you come out! Now, after just a few months, you’ve changed? Brother, you come here to nightclubs every day, fine, but you won’t even let us bring girls. The lot of us just sit here, staring at each other… ah, it’s killing me!”

The speaker, half-reclined on the sofa, looked utterly miserable. “I can’t take it anymore! Left Master, you might have spent decades abstaining from women, conserving your energy, honing your iron will, but I can’t do it! I haven’t touched a woman in who knows how many days, and I’m suffering…”

As his teary appeal fell on deaf ears, the other man remained indifferent; Xiang Zuo smiled, but his gaze, full of familiar disdain, slanted toward the complaining Rong Jiulian, muttering, “Useless.” Unashamed, Rong Jiulian only became more animated, grumbling on about his insatiable desires. Meanwhile, Chi Jian, seated on the side sofa, noticed something.

“Brother Zuo, who are you watching out there with the door half open like that? Aren’t you afraid the entertainment section will run a front-page story tomorrow about ‘The City’s Hottest Business Tycoon at Nightfall Bar’—complete with photos?!”

As he spoke, Chi Jian stood up and tried to peer in the direction Xiang Zuo had been glancing all evening. But before he could crane his neck properly, a firm hand landed on his shoulder, bouncing him back onto the sofa.

“Just drink your wine.”

It was the most ordinary tone, not even loud, but from Xiang Zuo’s mouth it silenced everyone. Sharing a look, they realized the man had grown colder as he stared outside all night.

Suddenly, Xiang Zuo shot to his feet and strode out.

Zhang Momo and Dong Fei were only a year apart in age; usually, their superior-subordinate relationship kept them polite, but tonight, camaraderie flowed effortlessly between them. The two began by drinking at the bar, but as time slipped by and the alcohol set in, they ended up standing, arms around each other, gesturing animatedly.

“Feizi! You’re absolutely right!” Zhang Momo’s speech was already slurred, but her heroic spirit was unstoppable; she jabbed a finger in front of Dong Fei’s face, eyes growing increasingly unfocused. “So what if my company collapses? It’s just a company—a tiny place that’s only been open three months! Am I afraid of him? Worst case, I’ll just… close it! If he can blow my house up with a bomb, then he’s a real man!”

“Momo!” The designer was equally drunk, her identity all but forgotten. She let out a boozy belch, slapping her boss on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! If that happens, I’ll move out too! We’ll get an apartment together, the two of us!”

Under the collapse of all rational thought, cause and effect no longer mattered. Zhang Momo didn’t bother to consider how likely it was that her house could really be blown up; all she felt was the aftershock of Dong Fei’s slap, and she wobbled before continuing in agreement.

“Well said! So what if I lied? Who in this world hasn’t told a lie?” She leaned in conspiratorially, her face nearly touching Dong Fei’s. “Have you ever lied, Feizi?”

“That’s nothing!” Dong Fei flicked a hand toward Zhang Momo’s face, neither bothered in the least. “Last week I called in sick for a day, but actually, I just didn’t want to get up in the morning. Heh heh…” After her bold declaration, she grinned foolishly, thoroughly pleased with herself.

“Good for you!” Zhang Momo, oblivious to her subordinate’s deceit, was thrilled as if she’d found a kindred spirit. But as she turned, something important nagged at her memory. After thinking hard for a moment, she clapped her hands together. “I lied, I deceived him, but… I gave back what he wanted! And still, he won’t let me go—what does he want me to become?!”

At this, Zhang Momo wilted, her whole body limp with grievance, tears pricking at her eyes.

A few steps away, Xiang Zuo’s tall figure stiffened for a moment. He watched the woman’s fair face, now flushed with a drunken blush, and the vulnerability that slipped through her slurred bravado. He couldn’t help but be transfixed.

He had come with cold resolve, but now could only linger helplessly, indulgent.

After all, she was just a young woman—barely graduated from college, then struck by disaster at home, left all alone. If she’d truly just wanted to find someone to rely on, by whatever means, was that really so unforgivable? Xiang Zuo, you really were too harsh…

He gazed at her, struggling to stand at the bar, and felt a pang of pity. The anger that had kept him awake a whole night months before seemed to fade away. A faint smile touched his lips; embarrassed to let anyone see, he slipped his hands into his pockets and turned his face aside.

“What precious thing did you take from that man? You shouldn’t have given it back!” Dong Fei’s voice rang out, fierce and earnest, hands on her hips like a soldier bracing for battle. “If you’re going to take a hit no matter what, you might as well tough it out!”

At this heartfelt advice, Zhang Momo completely deflated. Not give it back? Was that even possible? Even if her sister had hurt him deeply, after what had happened, how could she not return it?! Years ago, Nianqing would point at his photo in a magazine, saying, “He’s so handsome!” While her interests flitted between Taiwanese novels, Hong Kong films, and Korean dramas, Nianqing had only one interest—him!

But for some reason, a wave of bitterness welled up in her heart; no matter how she tried, she couldn’t hold it back. It stung her eyes, and soon tears threatened to spill over. Pouting, she stamped her feet in protest. “I already gave it back, but why do I feel so awful?!”

Unsteady on her feet, she twisted around; and by chance, her heel landed squarely on Xiang Zuo’s shoe behind her.

Italian leather was no match for a seven-centimeter stiletto. Xiang Zuo clenched his jaw, his handsome face twisted in pain, but he stayed silent and quickly caught her before she toppled over. Yet her words—“I gave it back, but I still feel terrible”—seemed to light up the world’s chaos and darkness. The woman in his arms had skin like cool jade. He’d always worried about her health; even in the hottest summer, her hands were cold. But now, with him at her side to keep her warm, what did it matter?

Zhang Momo, however, didn’t need his warmth. She took a step forward, shrugged off his helpful hands, and steadied herself. She stared at Dong Fei for a long moment. “Feizi, why do you look all wobbly to me…”

“I think you look the same…”

“Maybe we should just sit and talk…”

“Alright then…”

With that, they clambered back onto their barstools. Zhang Momo found the Dong Fei before her multiplying, so she rested her head on her arm, trying to focus and count just how many Dong Feis there were.

Dong Fei propped her head on the bar, looking like a fish out of water, her chin opening and closing on the tabletop. “Momo, have you ever thought that maybe this man who keeps giving you trouble—maybe he does it because he likes you?”

Only then did Xiang Zuo truly look at Dong Fei; her round face was barely more mature than a college student’s, but her bright eyes shone with intelligence.

By contrast, the woman beside her, for all her designer clothes, her beautiful face, and her title as “company boss”—all of it seemed wasted!

“Impossible!” Zhang Momo, wasting all her gifts, shook her head in denial, still resting on her arms, her other hand tracing circles on the bar with her beer. He liked Nianqing! At the ball, it was love at first sight with Nianqing; the one he’d pointed out by name as his intended was also Nianqing! It was never her.

Even after marriage, she’d tried to imitate Nianqing’s habits, studied and performed her every gesture, every smile—she’d become Nianqing. So, the one he liked was always Nianqing.

The flush on her cheeks faded, leaving her face listless; her dreamy, drunken eyes shone with a subtle, unspoken dampness.

“What’s wrong, Momo? Why are you hiding your face? You’ll suffocate if you press your nose against your arm!” Even in her drunken haze, Dong Fei had some sense of self-preservation, and quickly pulled Zhang Momo—who was burying her head like an ostrich—upright. Suddenly, from somewhere, a pair of large hands reached over, gently yet forcefully taking Zhang Momo away.

“Momo, that’s enough. I’ll take you home.” He leaned in to murmur by her ear, his deep voice trembling almost imperceptibly. He could see the redness in her eyes—he could see it all.

Dong Fei shuddered. Had the bar’s riffraff reached this level? One casual line and he sounded like a lovestruck paramour! She snatched Zhang Momo back, wedging herself between them. “Hey, who are you? Don’t touch my friend!”

“Move.”

The man’s voice was cold as ice, and Dong Fei sobered a bit. She rubbed her eyes; was this gloomy, righteous-looking man really the same one who’d just spoken so softly? How had he switched from scoundrel to detective in an instant?

Then, a sweet and drowsy “Xiang Zuo” floated out. Zhang Momo turned, stared at him for a long moment, then slowly climbed down from her stool, her expression as meek as a pet lamb.

But in the very next second, she bypassed Dong Fei, stretched out a wobbly finger, and staggered over. She must have hurried, because she nearly lost her footing again. Xiang Zuo, startled, quickly stepped forward to steady her.

Zhang Momo squinted her misty eyes in a tipsy smile, poking Xiang Zuo in the chest with her finger, hard.

“Aren’t you Xiang Zuo? You are, aren’t you?”

Suddenly, a loud hiccup escaped her lips, and the veins in Xiang Zuo’s forehead began to throb.

Zhang Momo tilted her face up, eyes narrowed, pouting as she babbled on. Suddenly, she went up on tiptoe and slapped Xiang Zuo on the cheek. “Stop scaring people with that cold face! If you scare me—hic—I’m not afraid of you…”

Behind them, Rong Jiulian and Chi Jian had come out looking for Xiang Zuo, who’d been gone too long. Seeing the scene—Zhang Momo rambling deliriously, their friend’s arms around her—they exchanged gossip-laden glances. Xiang Zuo glanced at the babbling woman in his arms, then at his nosy friends approaching; he clenched his jaw, picked Zhang Momo up, and carried her out of the bar. But even as he half-carried her, she kept up her drunken muttering, swaying with every step.

Xiang Zuo’s frown deepened. At the door, Rong Jiulian and the others spotted him and hurried over. Without a word, Xiang Zuo bundled Zhang Momo into his car, gave his driver Xiao Wang an address and quick instructions, and closed the door.

Just as he was about to turn back, a faint voice drifted from inside the car, stopping him in his tracks.

“Xiang Zuo, please don’t bully me anymore, alright…”