Luan Nian drove aimlessly through the streets. Autumn was probably Beijing's most beautiful season. Fallen leaves scattered across the pavement, a lone chair sat at a bus stop, and an old man sketched by the roadside, folding it all into his drawing. There was nothing dirty or ugly in the picture, only a prettified peace. He parked by the curb, found a chair, and sat watching the crowds flow past. The trembling Shang Zhitao and the Shang Zhitao who had endured everyone's scrutiny kept alternating in his mind, until at last they settled into a single image: Shang Zhitao fighting her battle alone. A Shang Zhitao who had never wanted to ask him for help, who had held fast to the terms the two of them had first agreed on. A completely different woman. Or maybe she had always been like this, and he simply had never noticed. Luan Nian had never been so shaken, so filled with dread, as he was today. That recording had torn something open inside him, and it wouldn't stop bleed...
That day was an ordinary one for Lingmei. Everyone was busy at their posts, occasionally exchanging a few quiet words, but most of the time typing away at their computers in silence. Luan Nian was in a management meeting. Dony was talking about revising the new strategy yet again, but no one spoke up. Luan Nian didn't say anything either. He merely raised his head and glanced at Dony, a look that gave nothing away. Tracy also looked up at Dony, then lowered her head and sent Luan Nian a message: "I put on makeup specially today." "This does call for it." Luan Nian replied. The meeting dragged on tediously, but uncharacteristically, Luan Nian didn't call it to a stop. He even leaned back in his chair, watching the various departments spar with each other. After a while, Luan Nian saw the expression change on Tracy's face, someone who had seen every kind of storm. She cut Dony off: "Sorry, Dony, could you stop for a moment. Luke, could you step o...