Chapter 39: Serving As Your Henchman

Ji Zhen Tang was still savoring the luxurious and soft bed at Zhong Yu Bai’s house while attending class in the morning. The expensive and comfortable mattress and the tranquil atmosphere cured her insomnia, and she hadn’t felt this energetic in class for a long time.

Last night’s rain had stopped, and today the weather had cleared up. There were signs of a slight temperature rise. She was catching up on her French elective scores and re-studying philosophy, which had become even more uninteresting.

Ji Zhen Tang tilted her head to listen to the birds chirping outside.

The rearranged classroom felt unfamiliar, without her classmates and the usual gossip.

She calmly doodled for a while, turning her pen in her hand, drawing a few strokes, and occasionally glancing at the blank space on the back of the script, where there was a drawing of a shirtless man.

Drawn from imagination, his well-defined chest, abdominal muscles, and oblique muscles were clear and narrow, yet sturdy. She boldly moved his belt down a few centimeters with her pen.

“Hehehe.” Ji Zhen Tang didn’t realize she had a slightly sly smile on her face.

When she was feeling bold, all she could think was: Sleeping in means winning!

It was at this moment that she received a message from Lin Guixue. Her phone, placed under the notebook, vibrated, and Ji Zhen Tang picked it up to read.

Lin Guixue: Zhao Siqi might be sentenced. Is it related to you?

Ji Zhen Tang: I didn’t force him to do anything bad.

Lin Guixue: So it’s directly related to you then?

Although the conversation was phrased this way, this cause-and-effect relationship felt somewhat strange to Ji Zhen Tang, and she pondered how to refute it.

Lin Guixue asked, “Did that person do it?”

When mentioned “that person,” she was left with only helplessness and caution: “Don’t talk about it.”

Lin Guixue: [Shh] I know.

Lin Guixue: [Sly smile] What does he look like? He isn’t some old man with a wrinkled face, right?

Ji Zhen Tang: What are you thinking? He’s handsome, trust me.

Lin Guixue: How do you define ‘handsome’?

Ji Zhen Tang: Have you seen Zhong Heng? He’s even better looking. He’s not in the same league.

Lin Guixue: I envy you. It’s great to be good-looking.

“…”

Ji Zhen Tang didn’t feel like talking much anymore.

She knew Lin Guixue didn’t have any malicious intent, but her speculations about “that person,” the stereotypes in her words, revealed many hidden thoughts.

Although Zhong Yu Bai said many good things, promising not to be one of those tragic characters from stories, the reality, based on the beginning of power and desire, had already formed a fixed pattern that couldn’t be easily changed.

Could she confidently say that Zhong Yu Bai wasn’t attracted to her youthful beauty?

Could she believe with confidence that others loved her interesting soul?

Of course not.

What charm did she have to keep someone? A seemingly smart and chic girl, but actually naive inside, almost becoming a pawn manipulated by others.

The play to be performed tonight was an adaptation of “Song of Everlasting Sorrow.” She couldn’t play Chen Bailu; instead, she played Wang Qiyao.

To be fair, Ji Zhen Tang didn’t have much talent for acting. She joined the drama club for credits, not out of pure interest. There was a time when everything she did was driven by utility, wanting to win, wanting to excel, and wanting to be appreciated.

Because she had put aside her studies for a while, the club president often approached her, wanting her to come back to acting, whether it was a major or minor role, they all needed her.

She said she couldn’t act well.

The president said, “It’s okay, even if you stand there and act as a tree, people will buy it.”

Her smooth sailing was thanks to what? Ji Zhen Tang had always known.

So she came back, not really acting as a tree, but unquestionably becoming the leading lady in the script, everyone was generous, thinking she was more than suitable and gave her the lead role.

Ji Zhen Tang stumbled into various roles like this, and today was the day of the performance.

She didn’t have high expectations for herself. After all, club activities were ultimately for entertainment.

Flipping through the script, Ji Zhen Tang found many stories with love as the theme, not merely praising talented men and beautiful women but observing the shattered dreams amidst the ups and downs of life.

“Song of Everlasting Sorrow,” a story script by Wang Anyi, summarized in one sentence: The sophisticated lady of Shanghai and her five men.

The text was too long; Ji Zhen Tang was to perform an excerpt, the part of Li’s old romance.

The female lead, with her luck and beauty, caught the attention of this powerful and influential man. Moving from the alley to his luxurious world, she entered his golden cage.

The turning point of fate started with the phrase “good times don’t last.”

—

Zhong Heng’s senior brother picked up a theater club ticket from a public account but was called back by his mentor the next day. He asked in the group if anyone wanted it.

Hearing that the lead actress of the drama club was the campus belle, everyone wanted to catch a glimpse, and the group members rushed for it.

When Zhong Heng saw the message, the ticket had already been transferred to a male classmate named Sun.

He quickly found Sun and managed to get it back.

In the laboratory, he sat on a chair, twirling the ticket absentmindedly.

A fellow male student from the same department came over and asked, “You snatched this ticket, huh?”

Snatch? He didn’t need to resort to such means, but Zhong Heng just lightly uttered an “Ah,” without saying much.

“Your ex-girlfriend, right?”

Zhong Heng smiled, somewhat surprised, “You still remember?”

He had quite a few ex-girlfriends; not many could be remembered by those around him. It wasn’t surprising; Ji Zhen Tang’s beauty was quite rare.

“That beauty, who wouldn’t envy.”

Zhong Heng nodded lightly without saying much.

“Planning to win her back?” the other person asked again.

“What’s the point? She doesn’t even acknowledge me anymore.” Zhong Heng looked at the image of Ji Zhen Tang’s elegant face on the ticket, his eyes deep, “Just taking the chance while I have time to take a look, leaving some memories.”

He was asked how they broke up.

Zhong Heng’s gaze drifted, thinking deeply, feeling a bit of self-blame, causing him to furrow his brows, and finally said, “Some family matters affected her, and I said some harsh words later, which I shouldn’t have. After we broke up, I realized I really liked her. Trying others, I found no one could replace her.”

The fellow student said, “Then try to win her back.”

How to win her back?

“Resolve the family issues.”

Zhong Heng looked puzzled, “Can I?”

He thought for a moment, sighed, and said, “There’s no way. I’m too powerless. If I could, I would have solved it long ago.”

Zhong Heng felt that nobody could understand his pain, and he was too lazy to say more. After school, he went to a flower shop in the alley behind the school.

Surrounded by a variety of flowers, he stood there, looking uncertain.

Buy roses? He had bought them before, and they seemed to annoy her.

There was only one shop assistant in the store, a part-time girl, playing with her phone with her head down.

Zhong Heng walked up to her and suddenly spoke. Startled, she glanced at his deep eyes, feeling a little embarrassed as she lowered her head.

He asked, “If I were your boyfriend and wanted to coax you with flowers right now, what would make you happier?”

The girl’s face reddened even more. Without thinking carefully, she casually pointed to the baby’s breath beside her, “This one.”

Without hesitation, Zhong Heng said, “Pack it up for me.”

“…Okay.” The girl answered shyly and went to work.

In less than half a minute, a well-dressed man rushed in from outside and said loudly, “Miss, please pack up all the varieties of roses in your store. I want them all!”

The young girl, who was handing a bouquet of baby’s breath to Zhong Heng, was taken aback and asked him, “All of them…?”

“Yes,” the man nodded, spreading his arms outward in a gesture of vastness, “We need to fill the entire carriage.”

“Okay,” she replied.

Zhong Heng, hearing the extravagant tone, was also surprised, “Ding…?”

He vaguely remembered the assistant who had followed Zhong Yu Bai, surnamed Ding.

“Ding Jialing,” the other person smiled brightly, revealing white teeth, “Nice to meet you, Master Zhong. I didn’t expect to meet you here.”

Ding Jialing friendly extended a hand.

Zhong Heng also shook hands with him courteously. After paying, he smirked at Ding Jialing, “You’re quite romantic.”

Ding Jialing pointed at the flowers in his hand and complimented, “You’re not bad yourself.”

Zhong Heng suddenly realized what he had just said as he stepped out of the shop. Fill the entire carriage? Whose car?

—

Ding Jialing got into the black Lincoln at the entrance, and as the car was arranged, Zhong Yu Bai glanced at the time on his wrist and, upon hearing Ding Jialing’s encounter with Zhong Heng, tersely said, “Stop Zhong Heng.”

Ding Jialing asked, “Alright, you don’t want to see him?”

“She doesn’t want to see him,” Zhong Yu Bai replied.

“Okay, I’ll inform the ticket checkers at the entrance,” Ding Jialing said.

With that, the two walked towards the auditorium. The ticket-checking process had already passed, and a few latecomers were hurriedly running through the lobby to the side door.

Zhong Yu Bai had no ticket, yet he had clear passage. He wasn’t in a hurry, walking leisurely behind Ding Jialing.

Beside him were several flattering leaders, one of whom looked familiar and had some prior contact, the principal of Qingcheng University.

“Mr. Zhong, why are you gracing us with your presence at the student performance?” the principal also noticed Zhong Yu Bai.

He smiled, hands in his pockets, stepping slowly up the steps, “I was free today, came to experience youth.”

The principal offered him a VIP seat in the front row, but Zhong Yu Bai politely declined.

No need to make a big fuss about it.

He thought he could snag an empty seat in the back row, but as Zhong Yu Bai surveyed the area, he found it packed, with many people unable to get tickets, even sitting in the aisles in the front row.

Zhong Yu Bai didn’t move forward but stood in the corner of the back row.

He missed the opening act, where Wang Qiyao was crowned Miss Shanghai, leveraging connections through a friend to get in touch with Director Li.

What Zhong Yu Bai saw was Ji Zhen Tang wearing a qipao, wrapped in a burgundy coat, with a 1940s-style fluffy curl headpiece, her delicate eyebrows like crescent moons, her lips bright, playing a meek and weak woman, briefly setting aside her innate playfulness and stuffing a clever and ambitious woman into a gorgeous shell.

The man beside her was her springboard into high society.

He was supposed to be a commanding figure, but because the boy still full of youthful vigor, couldn’t fill out the stiff coat and lacked vigor in his lines, it didn’t feel particularly mesmerizing, nor did it convey the irresistible emotions of the play.

It was a stroll in the alley.

Next scene, in the ballroom.

She changed into a red velvet dress, dancing waltz with the boy under the spotlight.

The lines sounded like raindrops, faint but distinct.

Director Li said, “I’ve rented an apartment for you, please go stay there. If you need, I can arrange for your mother to accompany you, and if you’re willing, you can go to college.”

Ji Zhen Tang hesitated, speaking tepidly, “I’ll go back and ask my parents.”

Director Li smiled, patting her head, “I am your parent.”

“…”

A surge of sorrow and bitterness swept over her heart.

Ji Zhen Tang buried her face in her hands, softly sobbing.

The voiceover was softly added, abrupt and jarring, and very heart-wrenching.

—Love was not Director Li’s life’s ambition, let alone any beauty to accompany it.

—After experiencing changes, he understood that no matter how extraordinary one felt, everyone was held in the palm of a giant hand, ready to be crushed at any time, and that giant hand was called fate.

Seeing this, Zhong Yu Bai suddenly felt a craving for a cigarette. He went out to the corridor for a smoke, not going too far, making sure he could still hear her voice clearly.

Defeated by fate’s outcome, Director Li met with trouble, fled, and ultimately died accidentally.

Setting the tone for the next tragic story of the heroine.

As the audience came out, there were murmurs of sympathy. Why do people empathize with characters in dramas? It’s as if one can always find a reflection of oneself in their worldly struggles.

The play wasn’t long, just over an hour.

Zhong Yu Bai waited for her in the car.

Today’s car was a bit ostentatious, so it was necessary to pick a discreet location to avoid startling her.

Ji Zhen Tang was brought over by Ding Jialing.

She was still wearing the red velvet dance dress, different from the last time they rehearsed together. The curled headpiece was removed, and her long hair fell casually and messy. Ji Zhen Tang tiptoed, afraid of stepping on the roses strewn on the ground. Once she stepped into the car, she let out a long sigh.

Zhong Yu Bai smiled at her.

He sat upright, his suit and tie impeccable, the deep colors around him making him appear exceptionally profound.

Ji Zhen Tang sat down beside him, eagerly asking, “How was my acting?”

He didn’t mince words in his evaluation, implying something else in his words, “The male actor was a bit lacking.”

Ji Zhen Tang sat next to him by the window, leaning on the armrest with her elbows, tilting her head to look at him, “You seem a bit sour.”

Zhong Yu Bai smiled without commenting.

“Why don’t you consider becoming a movie star?”

She smiled, her eyes spinning, “Alright, then you have to promote me and make me so famous that I turn purple.”

Zhong Yu Bai put down his cup, gently holding her waist, “I’ll make the whole nation be at your feet.”

“Then the whole nation will just point at me and say: Anyone can be an actor now! And then tag me as: The ugly child of a capitalist.” Ji Zhen Tang pointed with her finger as if there were really a row of words written on her head.

The man lowered his gaze, examining her extremely beautiful and enticing features, “Where is the ugliness?”

Ji Zhen Tang remained silent, only smiling and saying, “I just want you to be my devoted subject under my skirt.”

Zhong Yu Bai gazed at her meaningfully for a moment and replied, “Already am.”

Ji Zhen Tang gently held his wrist resting on her waist, then her expression dimmed slightly as she thought of something, her eyes becoming pitifully sorrowful, “Someone said I’m being kept.”

In fact, it was fabricated by her, just to gauge his reaction.

Zhong Yu Bai raised an eyebrow, “Who said that?”

“Walls have ears, and there are so many busybodies around, how could I remember each one?” She tilted her head.

“Next time you hear it, ask for their name.”

She wanted to laugh, “You’re so cruel, always ready to teach someone a lesson.”

He replied casually, “Just understanding.”

Ji Zhen Tang restrained her smile, looked at him seriously, and asked slowly, earnestly, “Seriously, if one day I provoke you, would you get rid of me?”

Zhong Yu Bai asked, “How would you provoke me?”

“That is a question.” She tilted her head, pretending to ponder for a moment, looking innocent, “I have to consider it carefully.”

He just smiled but forgot to give her a reassuring answer.

The car was playing a song called “Morning Breath”, the male singer’s voice was tender and affectionate, the melody like the sea waves, spreading wave after wave, hitting, fitting perfectly with the roses in the car on this dark night, as if the scented seawater was enveloping her, giving a gentle and moist sensation.

One of her favorite songs, Ji Zhen Tang tilted her head back slightly, listening to the song slowly, then asked him, “Do you like the Orange Sea?”

Zhong Yu Bai simply replied, “I like whatever you like.”

Only then did she vaguely remember and was surprised, “You actually remembered something I said so long ago.”

He said, “Remembering a child’s hobby is not a difficult task.”

… Trap!

“It’s all traps.” She suddenly felt resentful and tried to push his hand away from her.

Zhong Yu Bai didn’t let go, holding her even tighter. In the moment when she struggled weakly, he took advantage of it, his palm moving slightly lower to her hip bone, finding the right pressure point, and with a lift of force, he lifted her up entirely.

Ji Zhen Tang hastily stabilized her center of gravity, and now she was sitting on his lap.

Her face was hot, both from the slightly excessive touch and heat from earlier and from the close eye contact with him at this moment.

She couldn’t move; his arm had become her golden cage.

The man’s gaze remained enigmatic, but thanks to the dim lighting in the car that immersed people in a nostalgic mood, he appeared somewhat affectionate as he softly asked her, “What about staying in the trap?”

Ji Zhen Tang inquired lightly, “For how long?”

He lowered his eyes, looking at her lips, flushed and glistening, “You decide.”

They locked eyes for half a minute, neither speaking. The phrase “you decide” lingered between them for half a minute.

She stayed silent, as if unwilling to interrupt this bottomless indulgence, enjoying it infinitely.

“Have you finished watching the drama today?”

Finally, she hooked her finger around his neck and asked.

“Missed the beginning,” he admitted without hiding, genuinely being a few minutes late.

Ji Zhen Tang was dissatisfied, “Then I’ll have to explain it to you.”

Finally unable to resist, lacking in manners and patience, he used his finger to gently touch her lips.

“After the kiss, we’ll talk.”

Previous

Next