“But he trusts you the most, doesn’t he? You’re the accountant maid who manages the organization’s billions.”
“He doesn’t trust anyone.” Chips shrugged.
“Sometimes I feel like someone like the boss is bound to bring chaos and bloodshed…” Mai murmured.
“He’s like that rogue hero from The Outlaws of the Marsh… yeah, but so what? Whether he brings miracles or an apocalypse, the script’s already written. It’s like a giant machine starting to run, and we’re just the gears in it,” Chips said softly. “His game has already begun. We can only place our bets; there’s no time to gather our chips and leave the table.”
“And we can only bet on his side,” Mai nodded.
“Come on, girl! Let’s go for a spa! Why worry about all that? Let’s get ourselves cleaned up and ready to watch this unprecedented drama, right?” Mai suddenly sprang up, stretching her body, sweeping away the heaviness of their previous conversation. “In sixty-eight hours, no matter what happens—even if the sky falls! Who cares! I can’t stand it anymore! Whatever floods come tomorrow, I just want to wash myself until I’m fragrant and soft now!”
“Alright!” Chips agreed, gazing out at the horizon. The mountains and sky met in a line as soft as a maiden’s curves. “Maybe the future won’t be so bad? In such a beautiful autumn… everything still has a chance.”
Nono sat in a corridor, leaning against a pillar, gazing at the vast Kunming Lake, sipping beer she had brought with her. Across the lake stood Longevity Hill, with the grand Pavilion of the Fragrance of Buddha and the Hall of Dispelling Clouds atop it.
She hadn’t told Caesar where she had gone, not because she was unhappy. Most of the time, she didn’t even know if she was happy or unhappy. Sometimes she was like this, sometimes like that—she simply did what suddenly came to mind. If she wanted to make a pottery cup this afternoon, then she was a serious pottery craftsman; if that night, she wanted to be the most dazzling girl in the bar, she needed no more reason than a sudden whim.
Like that time when she was wandering aimlessly outside the screening room, she saw the projectionist taking the money and tape from Zhao Menghua. Xu Yanyan and Xu Miaomiao came out of the restroom, wearing black suits, patting each other’s round bellies. Zhao Menghua was giving his final instructions to his brothers, and Chen Wenwen waited with a blush. Meanwhile, some fool was still standing there, thinking he was the one being awaited… She suddenly hated this tragedy, steadily unfolding step by step, yet the one being sacrificed had no idea. She wanted to break this damned, uncreative, step-by-step tragedy. She was always like this—as a child, if she hated a song, she wouldn’t just stop playing it; she would take the CD out and snap it in two. So she rushed out to buy that outfit and high heels and called someone to bring the Ferrari over. The sense of joy filled her heart when she sped back to the cinema, just like the moment she snapped a CD in two.
She really didn’t like Lu Mingfei; she just wanted to help that unlucky guy. She didn’t want to see that terrible expression of his in the girl’s restroom again—seeing that awful face made her genuinely sad… It was as if a furious little girl would leap out of her heart to bite all those who bullied him… Yet maybe that unlucky guy misunderstood?
It was just her own fault for always being so wild and silly… She pouted and took a sip of beer.
She hadn’t agreed to Caesar’s proposal yet, though she probably should have long ago. There was really nothing left in this world that could stop them. To hell with the families. Caesar Gattuso and Chen Motong’s engagement would be the union of the most domineering leader of Cassell College in a decade and the craziest witch. This news would spread across the web to the ears of every hybrid worldwide. Everyone had already anticipated this future—Caesar had already announced that he would host a grand “Champagne Pool Night” in his yacht’s swimming pool, inviting everyone who had helped him pursue Nono.
The devil and the witch’s destined marriage, seemingly flawless!
Yet it was all sealed away by something as thin as a strand of hair… Just because she suddenly remembered, beneath the waters of the Three Gorges, it was that fool who swam toward her with all his might, his contorted face roaring with all his strength.
“Don’t die? Ricardo… what do you really want?”
Rarely, the little witch felt she might have done something wrong.
“Hey, have you seen a girl in a red Ferrari come to eat here? About 170 cm tall, with reddish hair?” Caesar parked in front of Quanjude and asked the valet loudly.
“No, haven’t seen anyone like that. If she had come, I’d definitely remember. If I can’t remember the girl, I’d at least remember the red Ferrari, wouldn’t I?” The valet laughed.
“Thanks.” Caesar crossed out “Quanjude Roast Duck Restaurant” from his notebook. He had already crossed out more than a dozen places—Oriental Plaza, where Nono liked to shop; Din Tai Fung, where she liked to eat buns; Kunlun Hotel, where she enjoyed afternoon tea; the zoo, where she liked to feed pandas; UME Cinemas, where she liked to watch movies… but none of them had Nono.
The Mini Cooper’s turbocharged engine roared as Caesar headed for his next destination. He wasn’t anxious at all; driving around on the road on this beautiful autumn day, it felt like if you just kept looking, you would eventually find what you were seeking.
Chu Zihang stood in front of the dressing mirror, examining himself. The hooded fleece made him look a bit childish, and the white sneakers made him seem even younger. Aside from this outfit, he only had a pure black suit, which would be more suitable for attending a funeral or as a CIA agent. He tried combing his hair more neatly, but the childishness remained unchanged.
The laptop’s hard drive hummed as it ran at high speed. There were still six hours left before the calculations were complete. The sun was shining brightly outside; maybe there was time to go out and buy a new set of clothes, he thought.
Finger let out a happy snort, rolling around on the bed.
“Ouch, ouch, stop pinching my waist, it tickles!” Chips lay on the massage bed, screaming in laughter. Her face was buried in the hole of the massage table, making it impossible for her to look back.
The first part of the spa session had been comfortable, but for some reason, the masseuse went rogue in the latter half, targeting all her ticklish spots. Poor Chips, with all those sensitive spots she kept hidden, seldom mentioned to anyone.
Mai made faces at the masseuse beside her while applying oil to Chips, who was covered in massage oil from head to toe. The massage bed next to them was already empty, and the two masseuses were left idle.
“I knew it! It must be you, you wicked girl!” Chips suddenly realized, sitting up and pouncing at Mai like a hungry tiger.
So, in the Thai-themed massage room, amidst the delicate aroma of Aquilaria smoke, graceful girls wrapped in towels chased each other, throwing towels, leaping over massage beds, through steam, over the bubbling bath. The masseuses watched as the beautiful curves of the girls unfolded through their running and jumping, reminding them of the frescoes of Dunhuang’s flying deities.