Chapter Sixty-Two: What Woman Would Wait for You for Four Years?

Chapter 62: What Woman Would Wait for You for Four Years?

Zhang Hepburn turned around with a puzzled expression and said to Tang Zhong, “Someone’s looking for you.” Then she added, “How strange. Why did he look at me and call me Tang Xin? Did he mistake me for someone else?”

Bai Su laughed and scolded her, “You really are clever about important things and muddled about the trivial ones. You and Tang Xin are both members of the Butterfly Trio. When he saw you, he must have guessed Tang Xin was in the car too. Who is he, anyway? One of Tang Xin’s fans?”

Zhang Hepburn poked her head out for another look. “I don’t think so. I heard someone say he’s a student at Southern University—he and Xin-xin were classmates once. Maybe they were even a couple. Because Tang Xin is a big star, their relationship had to be kept secret. Later, when Xin-xin fell ill, they didn’t even get to say goodbye. Poor Xin-xin, poor Gao Shan—a pair of star-crossed lovers.”

“You’ve read too many romance novels,” Bai Su said, patting Zhang Hepburn’s head. “Close the window.”

“Aren’t we going to invite him in?” Zhang Hepburn said regretfully. “He looks so pitiful.”

“Invite him in so Tang Zhong can date him?” Bai Su teased, glancing at Tang Zhong.

“Hey, that's not a bad idea,” Zhang Hepburn clapped her hands. “Since Tang Zhong is standing in for Xin-xin, he should accept her feelings too. I’d love to see what it looks like when two men fall in love.”

“Enough, enough. You just want to stir up trouble,” Bai Su hurried to cut off her wild imaginings. “If you really want to see that, there’s no shortage of it in our circle.”

“But no one in our circle dresses as a woman to date a man,” Zhang Hepburn protested, her eyes lighting up. “Just imagining it is thrilling.”

“——”

“Tang Xin, it’s me, Gao Shan! Tang Xin, I have something to say to you—” The young man was still shouting hoarsely behind them, but the Mercedes van had already rolled inside. The electronic gates closed once more, as if a chasm had fallen between those within and those without.

Somehow, Tang Zhong’s mood grew heavy, as though he truly were the woman who had abandoned someone.

They hadn’t eaten dinner yet, so everyone was a bit hungry. Fortunately, Bai Su had called ahead; when they returned to the villa, the servants had already prepared the meal.

After dinner, Lin Huiyin and Zhang Hepburn each went upstairs to rest.

Bai Su looked at Tang Zhong and said, “You don’t have class tomorrow anyway, so stay here tonight.”

A-Ken chimed in, “That’s right, little Xin-xin. You’ve had a long day; don’t run around anymore. It’s tiring. Tonight, we can have a drink and chat—”

“All right,” Tang Zhong agreed. Then he said to A-Ken, “But I don’t drink. And I’m not one for late-night conversations.”

“That’s fine. As long as you’re here, I’m happy,” A-Ken giggled.

“——” Tang Zhong and Bai Su exchanged glances, then both got up to return to their rooms.

Keep your distance from A-Ken—refuse his advances.

The night passed in silence.

At six in the morning, Tang Zhong pushed open his door and went out to train again.

The sound of thudding, slapping, and pounding filled the air—but this time, not a single window upstairs opened, nor did anyone throw things down.

Tang Zhong was puzzled. Could it be that yesterday’s commercial shoot had exhausted them, so today they were all sleeping deeply?

After an hour of exercise, Tang Zhong wiped the sweat from his brow and body with a towel as he walked back inside.

When he opened the door, he was stunned by what he saw.

Zhang Hepburn was curled on the sofa, playing computer games. Lin Huiyin sat in a corner watching TV. Bai Su and A-Ken were at the dining table having breakfast, while a servant brought over fried eggs and freshly made milk.

They were all up already?

“Xin-xin, wash off that sweat and come have breakfast,” A-Ken called out charmingly, dressed in zebra-striped pajamas.

Tang Zhong nodded and went back to his room to shower.

When he returned to the living room, Zhang Hepburn and Lin Huiyin were already at the table eating.

“Why is everyone up so early?” Tang Zhong pulled out a chair and sat as far from A-Ken as possible.

“It’s strange,” Bai Su said with a laugh. “When you used to stay here, you got up at six every day and woke us all from our sweet dreams. We were tempted to chop you up. But after you moved out, we still wake up at six naturally. We can’t sleep in even if we want to.”

“As I said, it’s for your own good,” Tang Zhong said with a ‘now you see’ look.

Zhang Hepburn stuffed a fried egg into her mouth, yolk trickling from her lips. “Aunt Bai, I told you not to say that. Look at his smug face.”

“But Benben, it’s true,” A-Ken sided with Tang Zhong. “Now I wake up at six every morning, and because I go to bed early, I feel energetic all day. It’s amazing—like there’s a little monster inside me, and I have endless energy.”

Zhang Hepburn pursed her lips. “A-Ken, if he said the fried egg was meant to be snorted up your nose, would you do that too?”

“Hmph, I’m not talking to you. You’re so annoying,” A-Ken pouted.

After breakfast, Tang Zhong announced he was heading back to school.

Even though there were no classes, what if Dean Jiao Yuheng had time and suddenly called him to his office?

“Tang Zhong, wait a moment,” Bai Su said.

She hurried upstairs and quickly returned, handing him a box. “Take this.”

“What is it?” Tang Zhong asked.

“A phone,” Bai Su replied. “Xin-xin’s phone. When she left, she asked me to keep it for you. Back then I was worried, but now I think you need it. There are many people in her contacts whom you’ll meet eventually—best to familiarize yourself now. It’s strange to meet old friends and not recognize them. You might even need to contact some of them.”

Tang Zhong accepted the box, stowed it in his NIKE backpack, and headed out.

“Do you want me to give you a ride?” Bai Su asked.

“No need,” Tang Zhong replied. “Better not arouse suspicion.”

When he reached the community gate, he was shocked to see that Gao Shan, whom he’d met yesterday, was still waiting there.

Long hair, jeans, plaid shirt, and a black trench coat. His clothes were all different from yesterday, proof that he’d gone home and come back again.

He didn’t argue with the guards anymore. Instead, he sat on the edge of the flowerbed, strumming his guitar and singing to himself:

Heaven must have sent me this joy
To see you at the corner’s turn
Only the echo of our footfalls
Rain boots stained with greenish mud
Yet I learned to long for you
Your voice, your smile

His voice was husky yet full of feeling, drawing the listener into the world of the lyrics, unable to break free.

It was a song by the Butterfly Trio. Tang Zhong hadn’t expected such a heartfelt rendition.

He sighed softly. He admired this young man’s dedication and passion, but there was little he could do to help.

Just as he was about to walk past, Gao Shan suddenly rushed over with his guitar.

Tang Zhong jumped in surprise, wondering if his cover had been blown.

Impossible. Before he left, A-Ken had specially styled him. If A-Ken said it was fine, it had to be.

“Hey, brother,” Gao Shan blocked his path, looking eager. “Do you live in Purple Garden?”

Tang Zhong nodded, then shook his head.

“So do you or don’t you?” Gao Shan pressed.

“I’m visiting relatives,” Tang Zhong replied.

“Do you know where the Butterfly Trio lives? Do you know them?” Gao Shan asked, full of hope.

“The Butterfly Trio?” Tang Zhong thought for a moment. “I don’t know them. I have no idea where they live.”

He gestured to the houses inside the community. “There are hundreds of houses here. Finding someone isn’t easy. Besides, people in these communities usually keep to themselves and rarely interact.”

“That’s true,” Gao Shan said, crestfallen. “It’s really hard to find someone.”

Tang Zhong started to leave, but hesitated. He turned back. “Why are you looking for the Butterfly Trio? Are you a fan?”

“No. I’m a fan of just one of them. The most devoted kind,” Gao Shan said with a bitter smile. He had strong, deep features—a bit like Ken Takakura. With his long hair and trench coat, it seemed he was imitating that actor on purpose.

He pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Tang Zhong. “Want one?”

Tang Zhong took it and put it between his lips.

Gao Shan struck a match, lit Tang Zhong’s cigarette, then one for himself, and flicked the match into the flowerbed.

“You like her?” Tang Zhong took a drag. He smoked, but not often. He liked to try new things, and when his prison mates coaxed him, he joined in. But when he didn’t want to smoke, no one could force him. He never developed a ‘craving.’

“Yes,” Gao Shan admitted, slumping onto the ground, leaning against the flowerbed. “I didn’t fall for her because she’s a star. When I liked her, she was just a student. I went to Southern University too—we were at the same school.”

“Why didn’t you pursue her back then?” Tang Zhong probed, feigning ignorance.

“I did. I failed,” Gao Shan said. “I thought it was because I wasn’t good enough. So I tried to become better.”

“And?” Tang Zhong asked.

“And then I realized something,” Gao Shan said, grinning wryly. “Women are like soccer balls—if you miss a shot, you keep trying, not leave the field to practice your skills. By the time you’ve improved, the World Cup is over.”

“But isn’t there always another World Cup?” Tang Zhong pointed out.

Gao Shan looked dejected. “What woman would wait for you for four years?”