Letter from Hong Kong Chapter 69

When they returned to the banquet, they learned why Ying Yin hadn’t come after them – she had been held up by Liu Zong.

Liu Zong was holding up his glass, having just finished a lengthy toast. Though he addressed the table as a whole, it was obvious his words were aimed at Ying Yin.

The small glass of baijiu in front of Ying Yin was still full, untouched. She set down her chopsticks and said,

“Mr. Liu, since you’re proposing a toast to me, it’s only proper that I empty my glass in one go, and then drink three more to accompany you. But ever since I started working on film sets, I haven’t touched alcohol. It’s been my rule for many years now. I hope you’ll forgive me for declining.”

“It’s only one drink. How much difference could it possibly make?” Liu Zong said with a smile, his raised glass steady in his hand.

Liu Zong was a large, heavily built man, sitting like a small hill. His shoulder-length, slightly curly hair had gone salt-and-pepper, framing a weathered, sallow face. His family doctor had repeatedly warned him to quit smoking and drinking for the sake of his liver, but Liu Zong always insisted that his liver had been ruined back in his youth, when he worked as a full-contact stunt performer, and had nothing to do with tobacco or alcohol.

His disciples and proteges were scattered throughout the industry. Among today’s renowned action directors, who didn’t respectfully address him as senior brother or senior uncle? At the very least, they all called him Master Liu.

The glass was only a finger’s height tall – just enough to down in one gulp. Liu Zong had been holding it up for quite a while now, and both his arm and the smile on his face were beginning to stiffen. Still, as the elder of the group, he was determined to maintain his dignity, so he urged her one more time.

There was a saying: no more than three attempts.

Ke Yu rose to his feet, reached over, and picked up the untouched glass in front of Ying Yin. “Miss Ying has scenes to shoot tomorrow. I’ll drink this one on her behalf – and then I’ll join you for three more, Master Liu.”

Tilting his head back, he emptied three shots in succession without even blinking.

The executive producer’s surname was Sun. A native of the coast, he had a name full of maritime flavor: Sun Qinghang. In his line of work, managing the budget and handling logistics were only secondary skills; reading the room was the real priority.

Sensing the atmosphere grow heavy for no apparent reason, Sun Qinghang promptly stood up and delivered an elegant toast, inviting everyone to raise their glasses together in celebration.

By the time Shang Shao stepped back into the private room, that round of drinking had just ended.

He had lingered outside the door for a moment, listening. As he passed Ke Yu, he casually patted him on the shoulder.

Ke Yu understood.

It was Shang Shao’s way of thanking him.

After taking his seat again, Shang Shao’s gaze swept briefly over the area in front of Ying Yin. Leaning halfway toward her, he murmured into her ear, “Did you drink?”

Ying Yin gave the slightest shake of her head.

Her hand rested on her knee beneath the table. Hidden by the table’s edge, Shang Shao reached over and gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go so naturally that no one noticed.

Yu Shasha had also returned. She had barely settled into her seat when Liu Zong remarked with a chuckle, “You and Assistant Lin disappeared together for quite a while. Catching up as old classmates?”

The tear tracks on Yu Shasha’s face had only half dried. Her complexion had turned pale with the cold, her expression taut. She managed a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her face, making her seem strangely distant. “We did catch up for a bit.”

“You’re the most junior person here,” Liu Zong said evenly. “And you’ve only just entered the industry. Shouldn’t you go around and offer a toast to everyone?”

Yu Shasha froze for a moment.

In social settings, she had the habits of a Briton. Give her a glass of whisky and she could chat comfortably with an entire reception. But this was her first experience of a traditional Chinese drinking banquet. Here, there was an established seating hierarchy; there was an etiquette of politely declining and insisting before accepting a drink; there were obligatory toasts and penalty drinks; and there was a rigid sense of seniority and rank.

Liu Zong knew perfectly well who her father was. He had even promised to introduce her to shareholders of HSBC, and in private had acknowledged her as his goddaughter. Yet in a setting like this, he still barked orders at her without hesitation, treating her as little more than an ornament.

Without a word of protest, Yu Shasha stood.

Holding her glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, she started with Li Shan. She poured, raised her glass, and downed each shot in a single gulp, going around the table one person at a time without the slightest change in expression.

When she reached Shang Shao, however, the smile on her face turned tinged with bitterness.

There was also a faint sense of release.

She looked at him with a smile that was at once beautiful and heartbreakingly fragile.

“Let’s skip the old classmate,” Liu Zong declared.

The truth was, he looked down on this assistant. Even more, he disliked the fact that the man was sitting at the same table as everyone else, carrying himself with neither servility nor arrogance, his bearing and composure entirely undiminished. So, as Liu Zong sat there with his arms folded, his gaze didn’t even bother to sweep over Shang Shao.

Yu Shasha obediently skipped him.

Turning to Ying Yin, she said, “Miss Ying, it’s woman to woman this time. You have to do me the honor of accepting this toast.”

She was a genuine British-born Chinese, born and raised in the UK. Her Chinese wasn’t especially fluent, and she wasn’t entirely sure she’d phrased it correctly.

Ying Yin pressed her lips together apologetically and inclined her head slightly. “I’m sorry. I have scenes to shoot tomorrow, so I can’t drink. We can drink tea instead of alcohol.”

She lifted her disposable paper cup.

Yu Shasha looked at Ying Yin’s slender, delicate fingers, and for no reason at all, the image of those same hands being sheltered in Shang Shao’s embrace flashed into her mind.

She forced her gaze away and smiled faintly. “There are only two women at this table -you and me. Women shouldn’t make things difficult for other women. Let me offer you this toast. I wish you lasting beauty, success in both love and career. Drink this one, and tomorrow, when the cameras are rolling, you’ll still be the most beautiful star on set.”

Ke Yu started to stand once more, intending to drink in Ying Yin’s place.

Yu Shasha stopped him. “Mr. Ke, this is between women. It wouldn’t be appropriate for you to stand in.”

Ying Yin crumpled a napkin in her hand, turned her face aside, and was suddenly overcome by a fit of coughing she couldn’t suppress.

When Shang Shao’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, her body gave an involuntary jolt.

She didn’t dare turn around to meet his eyes.

She didn’t dare look at the expressions around the table, either.

Because of that, she never saw Shang Shao pick up the glass that had been sitting in front of her.

In the silence that fell over the table, only his calm, cool voice – clear and resonant as metal striking stone – could be heard.

“I’ll drink it for her.”

“…” Ying Yin parted her lips slightly. Her gaze tightened, and the words “Mr. Shang” were already about to leave her mouth, but she forcibly swallowed them back.

“I’m fine.”

Shang Shao’s voice was very low – soft enough that only she could hear it, spoken only for her.

“Ke Yu can’t stand in for you, but your assistant – does he really have any legitimate reason to do so?”

Liu Zong gave a faint, mocking laugh. “I heard long ago that you, Xiao Yin, could really hold your liquor. Looking at things today, it seems it’s not that you can’t drink – it’s just that a few old fellows like us don’t deserve it. So, as the famous social butterfly you are, you’ll smile and entertain any man who comes your way, but today, for some reason, you refuse. Isn’t that right, Mr. Li?”

Li Shan had remained silent the entire time. Hearing this, he let out a deep sigh, filled with exhaustion and disgust.

He disliked drinking banquets. Whenever he wanted to discuss matters with someone, he always preferred tea. Today, however, there were two reasons he had made an exception. First, unexpectedly meeting Ke Yu in a foreign place had genuinely made him happy. Second, he had also chosen to accommodate Liu Zong’s preferences.

When Snow Melts It Turns Green was produced and released in Hong Kong. For the film to be selected for film festivals, it had to first pass through the Hong Kong Film Producers Association. If he had ambitions of competing for an Oscar, then securing a recommendation from this association was the first major obstacle he would have to overcome.

Not to mention all the other awards, other festivals, and other distribution channels.

Liu Zong was one of the association’s key board members.

Even today, the struggle between different factions of capital within Hong Kong cinema had never ceased. From open and covert battles over film subjects and selections, to ruthless competition over every major nomination at film awards, no one involved – actors, directors, distributors – could truly remain outside of it.

In order to protect the female lead casting from being tainted by capital interests, Li Shan had turned down too many representatives of Hong Kong’s financial circles, offending both sides of the divide thoroughly.

He might have a stubborn backbone that was difficult to bend, and he might possess a lofty reputation that placed him above many others. But a film was like a child – when it had to rely on others for shelter, it still needed a roof over its head.

Li Shan let out a heavy sigh inwardly. Across the table, his gaze met Ying Yin’s, and he gave her the slightest nod.

The meaning was clear: he wanted her to compromise and drink one glass.

If she had drunk from the beginning, then this glass would have been nothing more than a glass of alcohol. It would have meant nothing beyond that.

But now that things had reached this point, the drink was no longer just a drink. It represented a favor owed, an understanding of the situation, a willingness to compromise. It was the helpless lowering of one’s head when living beneath someone else’s roof.

Ying Yin’s thoughts settled.

From the moment Liu Zong had uttered the words “the famous social butterfly you are” to the moment she picked up her glass, only a few seconds had passed.

Liu Zong had come from that generation. Expecting him to respect women was a fantasy. Besides, the number of female celebrities he had been involved with was probably greater than the number of actresses Li Shan had worked with. Those award-winning actresses and acclaimed veteran performers – if one looked back more than a decade, which one of them had not once been his companion?

For a woman as beautiful as Ying Yin, the moment she had defied him three times at the drinking table, it had already been decided that she would not be able to walk away completely unscathed.

Actually, it was nothing particularly serious. She had been through plenty of banquets like this before.

To be fair, Liu Zong was not even considered that excessive. When men gained a certain amount of power and influence, they often became like this – treating women as if they were toys, like playing with a kitten, gaining a smug sense of satisfaction from seeing them lower their heads and submit.

Those who made vulgar jokes, who drunkenly touched women without restraint, who told lewd stories at the table – for the sake of looking at things positively, Liu Zong had merely asked her to make one round of toasts.

Ying Yin smiled faintly.

The only thing that truly made her feel hurt and humiliated was that it had happened in front of Shang Shao.

She had spent so, so much effort becoming a woman who could stand before him with a clear conscience, asking for an equal love.

And now, a single careless sentence – “you’ll smile and entertain any man who comes your way” – had shattered everything.

She did not dare look at Shang Shao’s expression.

There was another person who also did not dare look at Shang Shao’s expression.

That person was Yu Shasha.

She knew someone was currently consumed by fury.

And she sat there, as silent as a cicada in winter, not even daring to swallow.

Just as Ying Yin was about to stand up, a pair of neatly joined fingertips lightly pressed down on the small glass in front of her.

Liu Zong had already been putting up with this ignorant assistant who did not know his place all evening. Seeing him step in again, a trace of a smile pulled at his darkened face. “You’re going to take her place again? What exactly are you to her? Kid, if you’re a fan, the most important thing is knowing where you stand…”

Shang Shao picked up the wine glass in front of him. With his other hand, he lifted the bottle of the liquor.

Looking down, he poured until the clear liquor rose steadily to the brim. Then he leaned his upper body across the table and placed the glass down in front of Liu Zong.

The glass touching the wooden round table made a soft clink.

That single sound swallowed up every other noise in the room.

Shang Shao spread out his hand slightly, a gesture that meant: Please.

His hands had clearly been pampered and well cared for; his fingers were long, his knuckles elegant. Even this simple gesture of invitation carried a pleasing, refined grace.

He looked directly into Liu Zong’s eyes without the slightest rush or hesitation. His eyes were slightly narrowed, and the anger within them appeared almost unnervingly calm.

“She is my fiancée. The future young madam of the Shang family. And who exactly are you, that she should have to smile at you?”

“What Shang…”

Liu Zong only managed to get half the sentence out.

The other half froze in his wide-eyed shock.

Because Ying Yin had scenes to shoot the next day, she had already excused herself from the banquet shortly after nine.

Once she left, the others naturally took it as their cue to disperse as well. Poor Old Du had only just finished grilling the lamb skewers until they were crisp on the outside, tender inside, and glistening with fragrant oil – but by then, no one was in the mood to eat anymore.

After the banquet broke up, Liu Zong spent the entire time on the phone and did not even have the chance to pay attention to his newly acknowledged goddaughter.

Ke Yu did not know how to explain things to Li Shan, so all he could do was accompany him as they walked laps around the village, one circle after another.

Shang Shao walked Ying Yin back to the hotel. The journey had taken only a little over ten minutes when they came, but the two of them walked back at an unhurried pace.

“Do you think he’ll say anything reckless?” Ying Yin asked.

The weather was freezing cold, and every word they spoke turned into a cloud of white mist.

She wasn’t wearing gloves. She cupped both hands around her mouth, breathing warm air into them. Shang Shao took her hands, tucked them into the warm pocket of his coat, and held them there.

“He won’t dare.”

“That was so embarrassing…”

Ying Yin curled herself almost into a ball.

The way he had said fiancée and future young madam of the Shang family – it had sounded so real that Liu Zong had been so shocked his face had flushed with a strange mix of blue and red. She had even worried that he might just keel over from the shock.

Shang Shao glanced at her. “What’s embarrassing about it?”

“Feeling embarrassed on someone else’s behalf…”

Under the starry sky, Ying Yin lightly bit her lip. She looked up at him with bright eyes for a moment before taking a small step back and falling into his arms, wrapping him tightly in an embrace.

“You really have to send me back to the hotel?”

“Your room is warmer. My place is freezing, and you wouldn’t be able to stand it.”

Shang Shao brushed aside the strands of hair at her temple. “You’ve been coughing like this. Go to bed early.”

“Then are you leaving?”

“I have to. Otherwise, how is Junyi supposed to sleep?”

He smiled. His warm fingertips traced lightly along her cheek. “Can’t bear to part with me?”

Ying Yin rested her chin against his chest and looked up at him. “Then didn’t you come all this way for nothing?”

Shang Shao truly had no idea what went on in her head sometimes. He curled his finger and lightly tapped her forehead.

“What are you thinking?” He paused, then said, “As long as I got to see you, that’s enough.”

The ferry ran until ten o’clock. It was only just past nine, so there was still plenty of time.

The uncle operating the boat was curled up in the cabin, wearing a camouflage military coat that hung on him like a quilt. There was no one else on board. Shang Shao held Ying Yin from behind, and amid the roaring sound of the engine, the two of them looked together at the stars scattered across the sky over the opposite shore.

Her ears were cold.

His lips were warm.

When they arrived at the hotel, he walked her all the way to her room.

Junyi was already lying on the bed watching a variety show. Shang Shao didn’t feel it was appropriate to go inside, so he said goodbye at the doorway.

“Go to sleep early.”

The corridor was quiet. He kept his voice very soft, worried that the walls might have ears.

Ying Yin nodded and stood inside the room.

Between them was only a narrow threshold strip separating the doorway. After a while, Shang Shao placed one hand against the doorframe and held the door with the other. Leaning forward, he crossed the small distance between them and quietly kissed her in the half-shadow of the partially closed doorway.

Junyi didn’t even dare breathe too loudly.

Only after Shang Shao had left did she finally dare turn over once beneath the covers and let out a long breath of relief.

She poured Ying Yin a cup of hot water and watched until she finished drinking it. Then she watched as Ying Yin hurried around, washing up and getting ready for bed.

After washing, Ying Yin put back on the clothes she had just taken off, piece by piece.

“What are you doing?” Junyi asked.

“Going to find him.”

“But you two just separated?”

Junyi was completely stunned.

Ying Yin wrapped her scarf around her neck, layer by layer. “I’m not explaining. I’ll miss the boat if I don’t leave now.”

Junyi’s eyes widened. Lowering her voice, she asked, “You’re not coming back?”

Ying Yin tucked the filled thermos flask into her arms. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

The hotel lobby was completely empty. The only person there was the front desk attendant, who was half-asleep, while the security guard in the monitoring room was practically useless.

Ying Yin dashed out in a few quick steps, her breath forming a cloud of white mist in the night air. When she boarded the ferry, she was the only passenger. The boatman looked at her as though he had seen a ghost.

For some reason, Ying Yin felt as if the cold had become even more intense.

Her entire body trembled. Even her teeth were chattering.

After getting off the ferry, she ran across the dock, across the wooden walkway, across the pitch-black Liyuan Garden, and up to the entrance of the slope leading into the village. Under the moonlight, the gravel road seemed to shimmer with a faint blue glow.

She was practically sprinting with all her strength. The icy air felt like it was slicing through her lungs, and her airways burned as though they were about to catch fire.

When she reached the courtyard of the elderly grandmother’s house, the bamboo fence gate was half open.

Ying Yin steadied her breathing and saw Shang Shao standing in front of the west-side room.

A cigarette glowed and dimmed between his fingers. Beneath the starlight and moonlight, his slightly lowered face was blurred in the drifting smoke.

When someone suddenly threw herself into his arms, Shang Shao froze.

His body reacted instinctively – his arms immediately lifted and wrapped tightly around her.

“Why did you come back again?”

His breathing tightened.

The ash from the cigarette fell in a string between his fingers. He had no time to put it out. Instead, he gripped Ying Yin tightly with both arms, his gaze darkening as he half pushed, half carried, half pulled her inside.

The wooden door slammed shut with a heavy bang.

“It’s so cold here.”

His kisses kept falling onto Ying Yin’s face.

Clothes slipped away one piece at a time, landing on the bed and the floor.

“Hug me.”

Sometimes Ying Yin felt that, because of Shang Shao, she often became like a newborn calf that didn’t fear the tiger – knowing full well there were dangers ahead, yet still choosing to walk straight toward them. Reckless, unaware of her own limits, with only one thought in her mind: to go wherever he was.

The bed was a wooden plank bed. Even with a thick mattress laid over it, it was still cold and hard.

Perhaps even the carpets Shang Shao had stepped on were softer than this.

A thought like that suddenly appeared in Ying Yin’s mind. Before she could react, she threw herself against him without hesitation.

The bed creaked beneath them, an unbearably embarrassing sound.

The old lady was hard of hearing and couldn’t make out what was happening clearly. Carrying a kettle of water, she knocked on the door.

“I’m lighting the stove.”

There was a wood-burning stove in the corner of the room. Once lit, it would make the small room warmer. The copper kettle sat atop the stove, warming water that could be used for washing up and drinking.

Shang Shao took deep breaths, enduring the desire that made his vision darken. He put on his clothes, got out of bed, and went to open the door for her.

The mound beneath the blankets on the bed was obvious, but the old lady did not notice. After lighting the fire, Shang Shao saw her out, and when he returned to bed, he brought a chill of cold air back with him.

Ying Yin was held in his arms, her fingertips resting over the place where his tattoo was. Her fingers were icy cold, sending a shiver deep through Shang Shao’s body.

“Who told you to come here and freeze yourself?”

Shang Shao narrowed his eyes and caught the hand of hers that was causing trouble. “I missed you.”

“This is someone else’s house, someone else’s bed. We can’t do that kind of thing here, understand?”

Ying Yin nodded, her eyes blinking brightly.

Shang Shao couldn’t stand being looked at like that. He had no choice but to cover her eyes with one hand and say in a strained voice, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not that much of a gentleman.”

Indeed, he was not that much of a gentleman.

His words said one thing, while his actions said another. His expression remained perfectly serious, but the unmistakable evidence of his desire occupied her entire soft palm, pressing against it until the lines of her hand were damp.

The stove fire gradually warmed the small room.

Even without the bed, he had a hundred ways to completely possess her.

The north wind howled outside, yet Ying Yin was drenched in sweat.

Even her cough had disappeared. When she and Shang Shao were tangled together in a kiss, her throat no longer felt itchy. Perhaps the itch had simply shifted somewhere else.

She felt as though she were melting in his scorching warmth.

“…Just let it stay there, okay?”

His hoarse voice coaxed her gently.

“No…” Ying Yin struggled. “I’ll get pregnant…”

“Then we’ll have the baby.”

He said it with certainty. Still holding her close, unwilling to pull away, he brushed aside the damp strands of hair clinging to her forehead. His gaze was deep and intense. “Have a child for me.”

Those words stirred ripples in Ying Yin’s heart. “No…”

Her refusal carried very little force.

“Why not? We’ll have a baby. The baby will call you Mommy and me Daddy. Do you think the child will look more like you, or more like me? Hmm?”

He was only teasing her.

In the end, he did not actually do what he had threatened. Instead, he held her back against him and made her back endure that wave of warmth.