Letter from Hong Kong Chapter 45

The faint scent of cigarette smoke began to waft through the small bedroom, intertwining with the original fragrance of freesia.

Ying Yin half-lay, half-reclined on an emerald green imported velvet chaise lounge, clutching a throw pillow in her arms. With one elbow propped up, she nibbled delicately on her fingernails – as delicate as scallion tips – and refused to look at him.

She was sulking. Finally, she coldly and crisply said, “Whoever fools around with female celebrities is who I’m talking about.”

Throwing him a dirty look in front of two outsiders – clearly, her temper was no small matter.

Shang Shao understood in his heart. He gave an order. “Tiwen, take the young lady out.”

The young lady, Cheng Junyi, was still staring eagerly at the undercurrent of tension between the two, when Tiwen suddenly tugged her arm and said in a low voice, “Go on, hurry up!”

The bedroom door was a white, classic French double door, with “Feng” character lattice panels embedded with rippled glass through which figures could be seen. Zhuang Tiwen led Cheng Junyi out, and considerately closed the door behind them, the lock clicking shut with a soft clack.

This was the first time Shang Shao had entered Ying Yin’s bedroom. A Roman Holiday bed in dark grayish-black, pure white lace four-piece bedding set. By the window sat a green velvet chaise lounge, and on the black silk throw pillow, a gold-thread tiger embroidery was so lifelike it seemed to breathe.

The bedroom was small, everything in plain sight, yet it gave a sense of her tastes and way of living. Outside it was cold, with no sunlight. The venetian blinds were half-drawn, casting faint, muted light and shadow. The blinds were light, swaying gently in the draft from the air conditioner, and with them the tiger-stripe patterns cast on the floor rippled softly.

Only a breath’s time passed – so brief that Shang Shao hadn’t even put down his coat -but Ying Yin couldn’t sit still any longer.

She rose from the chaise lounge and walked past him. As she did, he smoothly caught her by the wrist. “I didn’t say you could leave.”

Ying Yin gave a cold “hmph.” “This is my bedroom. I’m the one who should open the door and ask you to leave.”

Lately, she kept saying “you” this and “you” that. Calling him “Mr. Shang” was becoming rarer.

And she no longer called him “Brother Ah-Shao” either.

Shang Shao dropped his gaze and looked at her heavily for a moment. The dress she wore today was a pale grassy yellow-green, the color of spring orioles’ feathers – the very color of spring itself.

Having looked his fill, he stubbed out his cigarette, tossed aside his coat, and swept her up into his arms.

“What are you doing?” Ying Yin’s toes hooked her Mules, a flustered look on her face.

“Spoiling you.”

Two light, languid words – like rock sugar steeped into a preserved plum.

Ying Yin was slowly and deliberately lowered onto the bed by him. Shang Shao’s gaze locked onto her as his hand reached down, slipping the slippers off her feet. Then his weight shifted, and his body – warm with his body heat – pressed down over hers.

“That toy car – did you buy it?”

“What toy car?” Ying Yin turned her face away.

“Enough to get you down the mountain?”

“Hmph. It can go three hundred kilometers.”

Her hair was thick, tumbling softly like a mass of dark clouds piled against her neck. Shang Shao brushed aside these clouds, gazing at the pearl-like, lustrous curve of her neck and earlobes. He lowered his face, the tip of his nose pressing against the spot behind her ear.

He hadn’t slept a full night before. Today, he’d been thinking of her, knowing full well that Tiwen wouldn’t be able to handle things. So he’d kept his spirits up all day, rushing through meetings and documents, just so he could steal this moment to see her at three in the afternoon.

Her skin tingled where the tip of his nose pressed against it. She wanted to pull away, but couldn’t. Shang Shao’s thumb and forefinger bracketed her chin. He gave a low laugh. “You’re really this angry just because I didn’t lend you money?”

“I’m not angry.” Ying Yin’s words were stubborn, but her nose stung with emotion.

If she hadn’t been desperate and eager to free herself, would she have wanted to borrow money from him? With her proud nature, she’d spent days mentally preparing herself just to bring it up – only to be refused by him in the end.

The hurt was secondary. What stung more was the humiliation.

But this humiliation didn’t come from losing face or shame. It came from realizing how one-sided her feelings for him had always been.

You can’t rely on men. No matter how rich they are.

Shang Shao turned her face toward him. His gaze was calm, his voice unhurried as he spoke. “This morning, Uncle Kang gave you twenty million. Consider it a contract advance, not a loan from me. That way, you and Tiwen will have equal shares in the investment. After you terminate your contract, you’ll have enough for the studio launch and the new film investment. I’ve already found you a lawyer – a partner at Yongcheng. You can trust him completely.”

“How much did you give Tiwen?”

“She had thirty million of her own. I gave her fifty million.”

“Are you trying to be my boss?”

Shang Shao laughed. “You and she will hold fifty percent each. I’m not involved. Once she makes a profit, she’ll return my fifty million with interest. Does that put your mind at ease?”

“So you could lend her fifty million, but you couldn’t lend it to me.”

“You’re comparing yourself to her?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Ying Yin fell suddenly silent. Even her breathing quieted.

Shang Shao’s gaze was deep, calm, his face expressionless. But his half-lidded eyes seemed to be probing her.

“Tiwen is my cousin. Do you really think you can compare yourself to her?”

A sharp, sour ache shot straight to her nose, accompanied by an overwhelming wave of shame – no, humiliation – that set her entire body ablaze.

Yet in the midst of this humiliation, Ying Yin suddenly understood everything. Her mind cleared. The fog lifted.

Right. He had no obligation to lend her money, nor to save her from distress. Helping her was a favor, not helping her was his right. How could she hold it against him just because he wouldn’t lend her money? And even more, how could she be so presumptuous as to compare herself to Tiwen? Cousins were still family – holding Hong Kong ID cards, speaking in the government dialect of the city.

Comparing herself to Tiwen – she had truly overstepped.

Having reached this realization, Ying Yin’s mood calmed. “Mr. Shang, don’t misunderstand. I only thought that while asking for an advance of seventy million might be unreasonable, it wouldn’t be without precedent. Besides, we have a contract, and I’m a public figure – there’s no way I would default. As for borrowing the remaining thirty million, I had thought that for a man like Mr. Shang, it would be no more than a small matter of letting a few coins slip through his fingers.”

She smiled. “I was overthinking it. But I just recalculated – I missed a thousand last night. I actually have nearly sixty million in my account. Mr. Ke can lend me another twenty million, and the bank can lend me twenty million. That makes a hundred million. I also have other investments I can liquidate – properties, a winery, storefronts, office buildings, stocks, funds. It’ll be fine.”

“You haven’t answered me yet.” Shang Shao ignored her entire sensible speech and asked directly. “Do you really think you can compare to Tiwen in my heart?”

Ying Yin averted her gaze and blinked. “I don’t think that. It was just a slip of the tongue. Don’t make fun of me…”

Shang Shao brushed the hair from her forehead. His penetrating gaze made her body tremble slightly. After a moment, he lowered his head and kissed her without warning.

Ying Yin felt like crying from his kiss. She clenched her hands into fists and, in a fit of pique, pushed and hit his shoulder several times. Then, without warning, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the pillow.

The pillow was soft; her palms and forearms sank into it. Shang Shao pressed his thumb into her palm, rubbing it in circles.

He kissed her fiercely. Ying Yin’s strength drained away. A thin layer of sweat broke out on her skin, and her nightgown had ridden up to her stomach.

After the kiss, his breath was hot and humid, enveloping Ying Yin’s ear. Shang Shao pressed close to her ear, his words low and hoarse, each syllable deliberate. “Ying Yin, next time, compare yourself to someone more important.”

Ying Yin froze. Her dry, parched throat swallowed. She was breathless, her chest pounding like drums, filling her ears inside and out with sound – like tinnitus.

Shang Shao kissed her again. This time, he pulled her up, wrapping her entirely against his chest, his palm pressing firmly against her spine. He kissed her until she looked like a swan with its neck bent.

Beyond the rippled glass of the French double doors, shadows moved.

Junyi lowered her voice. “Why aren’t they fighting? Why isn’t anything being thrown? I was waiting to go in and mediate.”

Tiwen agreed. “Right, why aren’t they arguing? Are they talking things out?”

“Reasoning with someone while trying to make up?” Junyi, who knew Ying Yin quite well, said, “Yinyin doesn’t fall for that.”

Tiwen said, “My cousin is different from others. He always finds a way to reason with you – whether you want to listen or not.”

Inside the room, it was warm. Various fragrances mingled in the air, thick and suffocating. Ying Yin felt she couldn’t breathe, her face flushed crimson. She couldn’t take it anymore and begged Shang Shao to let her off.

For two consecutive nights since Tanzania, her body hadn’t had any rest. She kept worrying she might become dehydrated. Last night, she couldn’t bear the shame of having the servants change the sheets in the middle of the night. So, amid her broken, pleading words, Shang Shao mercifully carried her into the bathroom.

His bathroom was bright and airy, with a continuous five-meter-long marble countertop. Above it hung a high-definition silver mirror of the same length. In the mirror, she saw herself – hair disheveled, clothes barely covering her, every soft part of her body trembling – while he stood neatly dressed in a black bathrobe, his face unreadable, exuding a dangerous sense of control.

So humiliating. Ying Yin burst into tears on the spot.

If it hadn’t been so excessive, and if he hadn’t refused to lend her money that morning, she wouldn’t have been so angry as to leave immediately.

Now, trapped in his embrace and being kissed, Ying Yin remembered this and the anger she’d just managed to suppress surged up again.

But she didn’t have the strength to push him away. She could only turn her face aside to dodge his kiss and call out to him, her voice trailing off in a light tremor. “Shang… mmph… Mr. Shang…”

Shang Shao replied with a casual “Hmm.”

“I… I’m still angry…”

Shang Shao stopped his movements and his kisses. “What are you still angry about?”

“You planted Tiwen by my side to feed you information.”

“This position is very important. I wouldn’t trust it to anyone else. Besides, if she hadn’t come, you still wouldn’t have a partner.”

“You’re reversing cause and effect.” Ying Yin pushed him away, turned over, and got out of bed.

Her thin nightgown couldn’t conceal the curves of her chest. The sight made Shang Shao’s gaze grow dark and heavy.

He let out a deep, slow breath and straightened his tie. “I wasn’t thinking about anything else at the time. And Tiwen hasn’t betrayed you. Don’t blame her.”

Ying Yin grabbed a blanket, wrapped it around herself, and started pushing Shang Shao toward the door.

Shang Shao didn’t move his feet. He looked somewhat tired. Bending down, he held her tightly for a moment. “I’ve been very exhausted lately. I was hoping to take a nap here with you.”

He kissed her earlobe again. “If I’ve really upset you, take a day or two to cool down. Come find me when you’re no longer angry.”

This time, before Ying Yin could push him out again, he took the initiative to pick up his coat and walk to the bedroom door.

The door was opened. The two who had been trying to eavesdrop immediately let out a couple of “ahem, ahem” and scattered like startled sparrows.

The soundproofing in this room was good, so Ying Yin wasn’t worried. She calmly smoothed her messy hair. “See Mr. Shang downstairs.”

Junyi said “Oh” and sized up Shang Shao. His tie was indeed a bit disheveled, and his impeccably ironed black shirt had wrinkles – enough to make one’s imagination run wild.

Ying Yin glanced at Zhuang Tiwen. “Miss Zhuang, you should leave as well.”

Tiwen widened her eyes and looked at her cousin. Shang Shao put an arm around her shoulder. “Let her rest. Don’t disturb her.”

Footsteps descended from the second floor down the stairs, growing fainter, all the way to the courtyard, followed by the sound of an engine starting.

The driver was warming up the car. Shang Shao, with his coat draped over his arm, paused and looked up slightly.

There was no figure at the second-floor window. Only half of the venetian blind remained drawn.

Tiwen got into the car one after another with him. She couldn’t help but remember Ying Yin’s words: “Your cousin fools around with female celebrities in the car.”

Oh my god. This Maybach was radiating an aura of… debauchery from every direction!

Her eyes darted around restlessly. Shang Shao told her to behave herself.

“Didn’t you say you’d handle it? So you haven’t actually figured out how to make up with her?” Zhuang Tiwen brought up the very topic she shouldn’t have.

Shang Shao’s brow twitched slightly. “Shut up.”

“You’re not going to mess up my business, are you?” Tiwen was already starting to worry.

Shang Shao opened his eyes and said in a bland tone. “My part of the making up is done. The part that’s not made up is yours – you figure it out yourself.”

Tiwen: “…”

She was a woman of action. A day later, she put on her full young lady of a wealthy family outfit, picked up her cheapest briefcase – a black Hermès with gold hardware – and drove her two-million Audi sports car to Ying Yin’s door.

Cheng Junyi was leaning on a broom at the entrance, looking smug. “Oh, look who’s here. Miss Zhuang has arrived.”

Tiwen gave her a light nudge aside and said breezily, “Move along. Go play by yourself.”

This time, she had come with the lawyer’s suggestions. She knocked on the door. Ying Yin was holding a cup of hot tea by the window. Hearing the commotion, she showed no surprise and asked directly, “If I don’t want to take Chenye to court, what options do you have for negotiating a hundred million?”

Tiwen was taken aback for a moment, then breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re not angry with me?”

“I invited you here. This is our connection. It has nothing to do with Mr. Shang.” Ying Yin put down her teacup. “Tell me your thoughts on the studio.”

“I’m not exactly someone who stays committed for long, so for now, I only want to manage you, one artist. In the future, if you’re able to pave your own way and I’m still interested in this business, then I’ll consider managing other artists. Besides artist management, I also plan to register another company in Hong Kong to invest in film projects that interest me. Of course, it will mainly serve you as well, so from now on, you’ll be a Best Actress who brings her own funding to productions. Do you have any objections?”

Ying Yin smiled. “I don’t have any objections, as long as you have money. But if that’s the case, wouldn’t your business overlap with your other cousin’s? Why not just partner directly with Shang Lu? His March Films has been making quite a lot of money these past few years.”

“Then why don’t you just go to Ke Yu’s studio? As far as I know, he also has shares in March Films, and you two are close friends. So why go through all this trouble to strike out on your own?”

Ying Yin tilted her head and extended her hand to her. “Happy cooperation – if you can handle Chenye.”

Three days later, Mai Anyan received a call from Yongcheng Law Firm in Hong Kong. The caller indicated that they wanted to discuss Ying Yin’s contract termination with him.

Mai Anyan took a fierce drag on his cigarette and stubbornly insisted that he would communicate with Ying Yin personally.

After hanging up, he first called Tang Ye, the largest shareholder of Chenye.

Although Tang Ye had stepped back from the day-to-day operations for many years, and had too many other profitable businesses on his hands – to the point of nearly letting Chenye run itself – Ying Yin was the company’s most important artist asset. Mai Anyan had to inform him.

The second reason, not fit to be shared with outsiders, was that his immediate superior – the CEO of Chenye – had always been at odds with him. Mai Anyan genuinely didn’t respect him.

Tang Ye took the time to listen to his report, his tone utterly unruffled. “Xiao Yin is a sensible girl, and she cares about money. If she’s willing to pay over a hundred million in liquidated damages, it means the company has pushed her to this point.”

“It mainly started with Mr. Song… plus lately, the company has been promoting Xiao Ruan, which has slighted her.”

“Mm, I know his style.” Tang Ye neither agreed nor disagreed, then asked, “Have you tried to win her back?”

“On the night of the Starlight Diamond Awards, I wanted to have a heart-to-heart talk with her, but she didn’t give me the chance. Later, I also reached out to… Mr. Ke.” Mai Anyan swallowed.

Tang Ye wasn’t surprised to hear that name. He was silent for a long moment, then gave a slight smile. “He won’t help you persuade her. You’re like a headless fly – panicking and losing your footing.”

“I can’t let her go. The company can’t either.” Mai Anyan was resolute.

“Let her go.” Tang Ye said simply. “A hundred million is just a hundred million. It’s not a big deal.”

“Mr. Tang!” Mai Anyan shot up from his chair at those dismissive words. “We can’t let her go! Twelve years – you may be willing to part with her, but I’m not! I can make it up to her. Whatever artistic path she wants to take…”

Tang Ye cut him off flatly. “Xiao Yan, if you knew this day would come, why did you act like that back then? After twelve good years, part on good terms. Ask her to see me when she has time – just to say goodbye as friends.”

He had no interest in continuing the conversation. After giving his instructions, he hung up. Mai Anyan stood with both hands planted on his desk, his head bowed for a long time.

Leaving the office, he knocked on the door of the CEO.

The CEO’s surname was Zhao. He liked being called William Zhao. A native of Ning City, he nonetheless preferred to call himself a Hong Kong resident. He was skilled at scheming and networking, and his way of thinking was even more commercial than Mai Anyan’s. The company’s strategic shift away from the big screen to prioritize the small screen was his proposal and his final decision.

He did not hold Ying Yin in high regard. At an internal company meeting, he once bluntly stated that seeing her in cinemas once a year had long since tired out audiences.

William Zhao had a broad forehead and square face, with a pair of long, narrow single-eyelid eyes that gave him a somewhat incongruous look.

Mai Anyan skipped over his end-run report to Tang Ye and simply laid out Ying Yin’s contract termination request.

“Fine. Whatever the contract says, we’ll follow.” He was very agreeable, then asked casually: “Didn’t you mention before that she’s in a relationship?”

“Yes.”

“On that point – is there no room to pursue liability?”

Mai Anyan was taken aback for a moment. He gathered his thoughts and advised calmly. “There’s no need, William. Although our artist management contract and commercial contracts include morality clauses, the agreement between the three parties is that as long as it doesn’t become a public scandal, what happens privately doesn’t matter. Besides, she even reported it to the company.”

As he spoke, his assistant Nancy called.

“A Weibo topic says a popular young actress has been caught in a new relationship. Should we pay attention?”

These days, before paparazzi and marketing accounts drop a bombshell, they go through a warm-up hype process. The purpose is twofold: first, to whet the public’s appetite for gossip, and second, to leave time for PR negotiations. If a hush-money deal can be reached, then they’ll reluctantly settle for an easy payday.

But netizens these days aren’t buying it anymore. They say “popular young actress” might actually be a no-name D-lister. They say “A-list superstar,” but it’s really just a regular variety show panelist.

The comment section was full of mockery and threats:

[You’d better have actually caught a popular actress with a capital crocodile. Don’t end up giving us a D-lister and some small-town real estate developer.]

Mai Anyan looked at it for a moment and noticed that the post used the phrases “popular young actress” and “capital crocodile,” and boasted: “This item will not accept PR negotiation. We will absolutely make a name for ourselves and achieve instant fame.”

William Zhao looked at it as well. After thinking for a moment, he asked, “Who else in the company is in a relationship?”

“Ruan Ye and Song Shizhang.”

“This Song Shizhang… never mind, it can’t be him.” William Zhao made a decision. “Song Shizhang has his own media group. If he had been photographed, it would have been suppressed already. It would never have reached the stage of a trending topic hype.”

“But it could also be Ying Yin.” Mai Anyan reminded him. “Her boyfriend is also no ordinary person. The superyacht from before – that was through her boyfriend’s connections.”

“Perfect, then. If it’s her who got photographed, then first, all her commercial endorsements will be terminated, and we can reallocate those resources. Second, we can also make use of the morality clause. There’s a lot of room for claims there. Adding the termination penalty to the compensation, could we reach three hundred million?”

Mai Anyan’s heart gave a heavy thump. He had to be honest. “William, I just called Mr. Tang. His opinion is to let her go for a hundred million. There’s no need to make things so ugly.”

“Mr. Tang doesn’t concern himself with these things. But I have KPI targets on my back. Whether the year-end financial report looks good and how I explain things to the shareholders – that’s all on me.” He gave a tight, insincere smile and patted Mai Anyan on the shoulder. “Besides, we’re not really doing anything. We’re just not doing damage control in time. Look on the bright side – maybe the one photographed isn’t her.”

Mai Anyan returned to his office. After smoking three cigarettes, he finally dialed Ying Yin’s number.

“The lawyers have contacted me. I’ve also spoken with Mr. Tang. He’s letting you go. But let me ask you – have you or your boyfriend been photographed by anyone?”

Ying Yin had also seen the trending topic, but she wasn’t the least bit flustered. She answered honestly, with a hint of sarcasm. “I don’t know.”

She truly didn’t know. She had no idea whether the two people mentioned would be her and Shang Shao, or Ruan Ye and Song Shizhang.

She was waiting for the moment when the cards would be turned over – for her, for Mai Anyan, and for Ruan Ye.

“The company has already decided. We won’t do any advance PR damage control.”

“That’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“Xiao Yin…”

“Don’t be like that, Anyan. We can still be friends in the future. We’ll keep in touch during the holidays.” Ying Yin said cheerfully: “I wish you greater success with each passing year.”

The time the marketing account had announced for the reveal was six o’clock in the evening.

At the same time, also trending on Weibo were the complete list of nominees for the Galaxy Awards and the hashtag for tomorrow’s awards ceremony.

Ying Yin had not received a nomination. She was attending tomorrow as a presenting guest. Chu Anni had chosen a striking, elegant, bright red evening gown for her – very classic and outstanding.

After hanging up Mai Anyan’s call, Ying Yin high-fived Zhuang Tiwen, then each of them curled back into their armchair, sorting through all of Ying Yin’s commercial endorsements and upcoming film and television project invitations.

“Still, we shouldn’t open the champagne too early. Because if the trending topic turns out to be about me, the fifty million we saved will probably go down the drain again.” Ying Yin lifted her gaze. Despite giving this warning, her expression showed no signs of tension.

Zhuang Tiwen, however, wasn’t worried. “I think it’s definitely Ruan Ye and Song Shizhang.”

“Why?”

“Because although his media group is very powerful, it’s not without rivals. Maybe… this marketing account just happens to be under his rival’s umbrella?” Tiwen pressed her lips together in a smile. “Whoever leaked it must be a smart person.”

Ying Yin smiled lightly. “Hope your good luck holds.”

Both of them were completely absorbed in their new venture and new beginning, with no spare attention for their phones. So when Shang Shao texted asking if she wanted to come see the pony, he received no reply for a long time.

Three days had passed.

It was now the fourth day.

The tiny miniature pony had been frolicking happily on the grass, but the man beside him radiated such a gloomy aura that the two-year-old had already learned far more about human emotions than it should have.

Sensing his mood, Rich’s four hooves – clip-clop, clip-clop – slowed down weakly.

Too afraid to move…

After waiting ten minutes with no response, Shang Shao switched from WeChat to a phone call, dialing the CEO’s office of Qinde.

The voice on the phone was cold and impatient. “Tomorrow’s film awards – who was originally scheduled to attend?”