Back when she was new to the job, Du Xiaosu had once heard Mo rant about the profession. “Working in this industry of ours, we wake up earlier than Zhou Ba Pi1, yet we sleep later than servers and flight attendants. We eat worse than pigs, yet we get worked harder than donkeys. We spend more time outside than we do inside. The circles under our eyes are darker than those of a panda’s eye patches. Our hair is messier than a bird’s nest. We have to speak and act with greater deference to others than a grandson does to his grandfather. It seems as if we are doing well for ourselves, when in actuality we earn less than migrant workers.”
As Du Xiaosu had listened, she had merely let out a “tch” of amusement, chuckling in response.
At this point, however, the rant had nearly become a semantic satiation. If someone were to jest about it now, Du Xiaosu doubted that she would have the energy to muster a smile.
In fact, after running around for four days at a feature film festival, Du Xiaosu did not even have the energy to make herself some instant noodles. The moment she had gotten home, she had immediately taken a warm shower. Then, she had waged a struggle with the hair dryer, only to find that it was broken.
Utterly sapped of any remaining strength, she did not bother to figure out why the hair dryer had decided to go on strike. Despite the fact that her hair was still wet, she collapsed into bed and was out cold the moment her body hit the mattress.
Du Xiaosu was so exhausted that she fell into a deep and dreamless slumber. It was only after her phone had rung numerous times that she finally got woken up by the chiming ringtone. She was still drowsy and dazed, even as she reached over to pick up.
As it turned out, Mo was the one calling her. Fuming, he roared at her to hurry up. “Where are you? Did you know that the other entertainment news agency got the headline before us?”
Du Xiaosu was temporarily stunned. It took her a moment to realize what was going on. “Mo Fu, I got transferred over to entertainment reporting.”
Mo Fu enunciated clearly as he replied, “I know you got transferred. It’s just that the other entertainment news agency made headlines when Yan Jingjing got into a car accident.”
Du Xiaosu’s mind was in a whirl as she crawled out of bed and began to get dressed. Clamping her phone between her cheek and her shoulder, Du Xiaosu asked hesitantly, “The immensely popular2 Yan Jingjing?”
“Who else could it be?” snapped Mo Fu angrily. “Is there a second Yan Jingjing?”
Du Xiaosu had always been terrified of being admitted to the hospital, especially at night. The brightly lit emergency rooms had always seemed chaotic3.
Du Xiaosu gritted her teeth as she rushed into the hospital, only to discover that dozens of her colleagues were already there, lying in ambush and fighting for the best vantage point.
The neighboring news agency’s entertainment reporter Bi was there as well. An opponent from Novel News, Bi looked nothing like China Central Television’s beloved host, whose surname was also Bi4. The Bi from Novel News was round and plump, especially in the face. At the moment, he was smiling provocatively at the frazzled Du Xiaosu and flashing his ridiculous dimples.
Du Xiaosu could feel the anger burning in the pit of her stomach, the flames threatening to leap out. “Bi,” Du Xiaosu greeted, forcing a smile even faker than his. “You were quite fast this time.”
“Not at all.” Bi was smiling so broadly that he almost resembled a Maitreya Buddha, although his tone bespoke every appearance of modesty. “It was pure luck. I just happened to be at the heels of Yan Jingjing’s car. Who knew that I would witness the car accident firsthand? I even got to photograph everything! I was actually the one who dialed 1-2-05 to call the ambulance. This time, I was really in luck. I never would’ve thought that I would get to snap these exclusive photos,” Bi chortled.
Even when talking about a car accident, Bi sounded exuberant. There was not a shred of sympathy in his voice.
Du Xiaosu turned around abruptly to ask another colleague, “Is she all right? Are the injuries serious?”
“I don’t know. She’s still in the operating room—she’s been in the operating room this entire time.”
Du Xiaosu looked around. A gaggle of entertainment reporters was waiting impatiently. Some were repeatedly calling their respective news agencies, while others were walking around with recorders in hand. Every so often, someone would get an update and rush off to join the group of people already waiting.
Meanwhile, Du Xiaosu took advantage of the time to take a nap on the bench.
She had just fallen asleep when Yan Jingjing’s agent, Zhao Shi, arrived in a rush. It looked like he had practically flown6 over.
Upon his arrival, the scene was instantly thrown into turmoil: cameras began flashing wildly.
Fed up, the hospital staff eventually began to drive people out.
“Kindly leave,” said the nurse. “Please do not hinder our usual operations.”
Bi smiled cheekily. “Miss Nurse, I’m not here for an interview. I’m here to visit the patient.” Bi waved the registration letter in his hand ostentatiously.
The straight-faced nurse replied, “You’re a patient? All right, come with me.”
“What? Why?” Now it was Bi’s turn to get nervous.
“To get checked,” the nurse said coldly. “I can tell that you’re ill.”
Everyone there burst into laughter.
Ultimately, the group of paparazzi was ushered out of the emergency center.
The biting wind was freezing cold. At this point, Du Xiaosu was so hungry that there was a gnawing pain in her belly. She could not bear the stomachache any longer, so she found a small restaurant right outside the hospital. Even though it was already eleven o’clock in the evening, the restaurant was still packed to the brim with diners.
When Du Xiaosu entered, the proprietor walked over sluggishly to show her to her seat and take her order. She ended up waiting for a long time before she got her bowl of eel noodles.
Once her order arrived, she immediately dug in. The steam rose enticingly and the aroma was mouthwatering. Delicious! It was so delectable that she nearly consumed it all in one gulp. Perhaps it tasted so scrumptious because she was so hungry. Still, Du Xiaosu barely paused to draw breath as she ate, her hunger overpowering her fear of getting scalded.
Suddenly, her phone rang. As expected, it was Mo. “How is it going? Have you gotten anything of value?”
“Not yet,” she garbled around a mouthful of noodles, swallowing impressively. “She’s still in the operation room. She hasn’t come out yet.”
“What about Zhao Shi? What did he say?”
“A bunch of people were surrounding him. He didn’t say anything, at least not before the hospital staff kicked us out.”
Mo sounded so angry that Du Xiaosu could almost imagine the steam coming out of his ears. “So, what if he didn’t say anything? Can’t you think of something? Flirt7 with him if you have to! Do you really need me to lead you by the hand?”
Du Xiaosu was unperturbed, continuing to eat her noodles as she retorted, “Fine, I’ll turn right back around and sacrifice my color8.”
Mo despaired. Du Xiaosu was hopeless. Sighing, he hung up abruptly.
Du Xiaosu carelessly set her phone back down on the table and continued eating with relish, nearly burying her face in her bowl as she practically inhaled the noodles.
From this angle, she could glimpse the midnight blue sweater of a diner sitting nearby. It was her favorite hue. Through the gap between her chopsticks, she caught sight of the plaid collar. When she raised her head slightly, she sighted a chin as well as a mouth. The corners of the lips were slightly upturned, as if in a smile.
It was midnight and she had just uttered the phrase “sacrifice my color” over the phone. It would be odder if someone sitting nearby who’d overheard didn’t get the wrong impression.
She really did not have the energy to care about what other people thought, so she dropped her eyes and continued to greedily guzzle her noodle soup, which tasted fresh, flavorful, and mellow. This dish definitely had a chicken soup base. It was a pity that she had devoured such delicious noodles so quickly.
As she was speed-walking out of the restaurant, someone from behind her spoke.
“Wait a moment.”
The voice was low and pleasing to the ear, the pronunciation accurate and round. The speaker was definitely a northerner9.
As she turned around to see who it was, she realized that the midnight blue of the sweater actually looked more like the deep blue of the sea under the dim light of the streetlamps.
It was the person who had been sitting nearby earlier. He extended his hand to reveal her phone.
Damn her terrible memory!
She promptly expressed her thanks, to which he simply replied, “It’s no problem.”
Right at that moment, a car drove past them on the street. The headlights flashed, illuminating his features for a split second. Oh, my! He had starry eyes and sharp brows10. He was striking.
Du Xiaosu had always had an inexplicable soft spot for handsome boys. When her good friend, Zou Siqi, had asked her why she made the decision to switch jobs and become a pap, Du Xiaosu had responded with rapture, “You get to see attractive people all day. You can also justify taking photos and paying visits. Isn’t that just ideal?”
“Nympho!” Zou Siqi had snorted.
Actually, Zou Siqi was even more of a nymphomaniac than Du Xiaosu.
Du Xiaosu ended up spending practically half the night in the hospital.
Meanwhile, back at the office, the news agency staff members were rushing to churn out a manuscript, even while yawning profusely. Everyone was surviving off of coffee in order to get a lift from the caffeine boost.
Du Xiaosu couldn’t muster the energy to be salacious, even if she wanted to.
“In the afternoon, when you go the hospital, you must capture photos of Yan Jingjing,” Mo pressed.
“The hospital is practically unassailable,” Du Xiaosu protested. “How are we supposed to get photos? The staff would never allow it.”
Mo ignored her protests. “Think of something on your own,” he said.
Evil capitalist!
Du Xiaosu could seethe all she wanted, but she still had to come up with a plan. If she couldn’t get the exclusive content, she wouldn’t get a bonus. If she didn’t get a bonus, she wouldn’t be able to pay her bills: rent, water, electricity, three meals a day, her annual leave vacation, spa treatments . . . .
Zou Siqi was right: in this world, the most difficult thing to collect and keep was coin.
The hospital did indeed turn out to be unassailable, with security guards standing staunchly on duty.
At the front desk, it was similarly impossible to seek Yan Jingjing’s room number.
“This is a hospital. Patients do not wish to be disturbed,” said the ever-vigilant nurse.
But what about the public curiosity and the right to information and her bonus?
The car accident had blackened the reputable Yan Jingjing’s name; the incident was practically making every entertainment magazine headline. Thanks to the exclusive photos that Bi had captured, Novel News was reportedly bringing in soaring sales at present.
If only there could be some development so that Du Xiaosu could also capture exclusive footage.
After whiling away the time at the hospital for nearly the entire afternoon, Du Xiaosu still had not gained entry through any of the doors. She was dejectedly packing up all her equipment and getting ready to head home when she saw Bi.
He began to wave at her, almost conspiratorially.
Du Xiaosu had no idea what he wanted. She had just been preparing to exit the building when he dragged her to the side, smiling deviously.
“Xiaosu, let’s collaborate, shall we?”
He made it sound so intimate that Du Xiaosu felt goosebumps rising on her skin.
“I know which ward Yan Jingjing is staying in right now,” Bi continued. “I have a way for you to slip in. After you get the photos, we’ll split them between us.”
Du Xiaosu was still wary. “Why don’t you just go yourself?”
Bi released a gusty sigh. “I wish,” he said. “Unfortunately, I’m a man.” Then, he unzipped the bag he was holding to reveal a nurse uniform.
Du Xiaosu found it all highly amusing as she changed into the nursing scrubs in the restroom. She looked at herself in the mirror after she put on the cap and the mask. Now, only her eyes were visible. She laughed inwardly. How did Bi think of such a ludicrous idea?
The hospital was rather large and medical personnel were rushing about. Nobody paid any attention to Du Xiaosu. She made it to the second-floor emergency center without any hindrance.
According to Bi, Yan Jingjing was still in the intensive care unit, which meant she hadn’t been moved to inpatient care after her surgery.
Even in the corridor, there were already numerous people from various entertainment news agencies.
Two people stood on guard like iron towers by the door, watching every move of the hospital staff. It was apparent that security could not be breached. Du Xiaosu doubted even a fly could make it past, not to mention herself and her camera. She resigned herself to her fate, dragging her feet as she glumly turned to leave.11
Suddenly, she had a flash of inspiration.
Pulling out Bi’s sketch, she examined it carefully for a long moment. On the palm-sized, crumpled up piece of paper, Du Xiaosu detected skewed pencil markings that resembled earthworms, squiggling on the page as if they were forming a diagram. The scribbled handwriting seemed to indicate the directions to reach the destination. Du Xiaosu nearly went crazy trying to decipher it. At last, she was able to figure it out.
Du Xiaosu was in luck: the floor-to-ceiling glass window in the intensive care unit was facing the outdoor fire escape stairs and the fire escape was conveniently located right next to Yang Jingjing’s ward.
As Du Xiaosu climbed the stars, she pulled out her camera and noticed that the angle was not ideal. Unfortunately, she had not dared to bring the colossal telephoto lens along with her. She was realizing that the camera’s original lens would not suffice. However, since she was already so close, she refused to give up. Spotting a long water pipe that ran along the length of the wall, she got another idea.
Under the heat of the sun, the pipes were not cold to the touch. On the other hand, they were a little slippery, perhaps because her palms were slick with sweat. With difficulty, she stepped onto the pipeline, using one of her hands to keep a firm grip and maintain her hold. To think that she was able to endure such a distorted position! Finally, she managed to free one of her hands to work the camera.
Now, the angle was perfect. Du Xiaosu waited patiently for the camera lens to focus. Gradually, the shot became less blurry.
As the frame became clear, Du Xiaosu sucked in her breath. Those deep eyes, those sharp eyebrows . . . even though she could only see the half of the face that was not covered by the face mask, she could certainly tell that the visible half was incredibly—almost inconceivably—handsome. Dressed in the white coat of a doctor, the person was tall and lithe, evocative of jade trees and making her think of irises and orchids. He stood still as the late autumn sunlight penetrated the glass, vivid and bright. Pale golden flecks of light flitted about like butterflies, seemly moored to his jet-black hairline.
For a moment, Du Xiaosu was in a trance, as if rendered dizzy and faint by the blazing sun. She even forgot to press down on the shutter.
Then, as his eyes met hers, he beheld her steadily, his gaze piercing through the camera lens.
In that moment, she was only aware of her own heartbeat going pitter patter. The sound seemed to grow louder with each thump.
The next moment, she recognized him. Yesterday, at the noodle restaurant, in the midnight blue sweater—that had been him. There was a faint roaring in her ears, as if her senses were overwhelmed by it all, as if her throbbing heart were swelling. The feeling was strange. It seemed as if a century had passed before she was able to return to her senses.
He strode over to the window as she came back to herself. Randomly raising the camera, she desperately pressed down on the shutter.
Then, with startling speed, she rushed back to the fire escape staircase.
She wasn’t fast enough.
He appeared swiftly before her on the stairwell, just in time to block her from descending the stairs.
Du Xiaosu was utterly at a loss, so she could only muster a weak smile.
He looked as if he were very angry. “What are you doing?”
Du Xiaosu caught sight of the name badge on his chest:
Shao Zhenrong, Neurosurgeon
Neurosurgeon? What kind of doctor was that? Did they treat the mentally ill?
Even as she internally panicked, Du Xiaosu remembered to force a laugh. “Doctor Shao, I’ve had a crush12 on you for the longest time, so I snuck inside to take a few photos of you. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Which medical department are you in?” He took off his mask, revealing his entire face. He was indeed the person in the midnight blue sweater who had given her phone back to her when she forgot it yesterday.
Although she recognized him now, he still did not recognize her at all. His lips were pursed and his tone was very stern as he said, “This kind of dangerous behavior—going so far as to climb the plumbing—do you understand what the consequences would’ve been if you had fallen from there?”
Infuriatingly, she feigned curiosity and asked, “What would the consequences have been if I had fallen?”
“If you were lucky, you would’ve gotten a soft tissue contusion, or perhaps you might’ve just broken a few bones. If not, considering how high up you were, your fall would’ve resulted in organ rupture and internal bleeding, a fractured spine, and even severe paraplegia.” He was still giving her that stern look as he said, “This is no trifling matter. Why aren’t you wearing a badge? Who is your head nurse? Which department are you actually in?”
Given that she unable to answer any of these questions, she could only widen her eyes in response. She continued gazing at him, even as a crisp autumn breeze whispered past the shells of their ears. She was suddenly reminded of the way the sweep of a dove’s wings looked under the clear sky: brilliant and joyful.
Suddenly, he extended his hand.
His fingers were slightly cool to the touch.
After they shook hands, she stood there as if possessed, neither moving nor saying a word. As she was temporarily dumbstruck, it was up to him to help her take off her mask.
She noticed that he, too, was startled when her face was revealed.
It was only after a few seconds passed that he spoke. “You again?” Now that he finally recognized her, he beheld her with some uncertainty. “Who exactly are you?”
That was a long story, so Du Xiaosu opted to tell the direct truth. “I’m an entertainment reporter. We’re commonly known as paparazzi.”
For some reason, she had a feeling he wouldn’t call over the security guards to escort her out. Sure enough, he only frowned slightly. “Entertainment reporter?”
“The person inside the hospital room is Yan Jingjing, is it not?” Her professional instincts were recovering rapidly now. “How are her injuries? Are you her doctor? Was the operation yesterday successful? Will there be sequelae? What are the specifics of the situation? Will there be alternative treatment solutions during the later stages of recovery? If so, could you describe in detail?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
“I’ll invite you out for dinner, Doctor Shao,” she said, smiling as sweetly as she could. “Can’t you disclose even just a little bit of information?”
There was a subtly sullen look in his eyes. It was only because he was well-trained that he didn’t show it. “Unfortunately, I cannot disclose the details of a patient’s condition. Dressing up as a member of the hospital staff to sneak inside and take photos is extremely immoral. In addition, what you did just now was extremely dangerous. Please leave the hospital immediately. Otherwise, I will have to notify security.”
In the end, she got driven out of the hospital.
Bi was waiting for her outside at the far end of the street.
“I didn’t even get to take a single photo before I got sighted,” said Du Xiaosu, who was extremely frustrated.
Bi looked doubtful. “You’re not trying to keep all the benefits to yourself, are you? Don’t even think about casting me aside so you can get the exclusive content all to yourself. That would be so ungrateful.”
Du Xiaosu was on the verge of losing her temper. “You’re a horrible person!”
Actually, she had gotten a few photos. Back there, when she had panicked, hanging in mid-air, she had squeezed the camera shutter repeatedly and caught several photos of Shao Zhenrong.
This man was truly very good-looking. His eyes, especially, were as deep as the sea. Under the bright light of the autumn sun, his entire being bore resemblance to an arbor, towering and strong.
Since he was so stunning and alluring, Du Xiaosu selected one of the photos to adorn her desk.
One day, Zou Siqi noticed the addition. Immediately, she began to exclaim, “Who is this? A doctor? He looks so handsome in a white coat! Do you have a way of contacting him? Has he been contracted? Is he interested in modeling in a shoot for our company?”
“No, no, no, no!” Du Xiaosu waved Zou Siqi away. “Move aside, I still have work to do!”
Zou Siqi clutched the photo monitor, refusing to let go. “Print me a copy of this photo or I’ll never release my hold, even if you pummel me to death.”
Du Xiaosu declined to do so, as she wanted to keep it to herself.
“You care more about romance than you do about your friend13,” Zou Siqi scolded. “Ungrateful.”
“As if you’re any better than I am! Sure, you’re so conscientious that you tricked me into going on a blind date for you!” Du Xiaosu rebuked.
The moment Du Xiaosu brought up the blind date, Zou Siqi softened. Now, she was all smiles. “Hehe . . . Du Xiaosu . . . aren’t we friends? What are friends for? Plus, he comes from a respectable family. Surely that can’t have posed too much of a grievance for you, right? Afterwards, he even asked me for your phone number.”
Eyes blazing, Du Xiaosu shot back, “And did you give it to him?”
“No, I didn’t!” Zou Siqi declared, swearing an oath to the heavens14. “I really didn’t! If I had, you would’ve skinned me alive!”
“Consider yourself tactful.”
“Xiaosu . . .”
“What?”
“Oh, Xiaosu. You should really consider taking the relationship one step further when you meet someone suitable. In all the grandness of youth, wouldn’t it be a waste if you never fell in love15?” Zou Siqi said in all earnestness.
“Why are you acting exactly like your mother? Don’t you hate blind dates the most? When your mother made plans for you, you tricked me into going in your stead. Do not do to others what you would not have them do to you16. Why are suddenly taking an interest in acting as a matchmaker?”
“Xiaosu.” Zou Siqi seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Earlier, when I was in Beijing on a business trip, I bumped into Lin Xiangyuan.”
[1] 周扒皮 — zhōu bā pí — Zhou Xiaochuan — “The Flayer” — Governor of the People’s Bank of China
[2] 红得发紫 — hóng de fā zǐ — so red, nearly purple —to enjoy great popularity
[3] 兵荒马乱 — bīng huāng mǎ luàn — the turmoil of war
[4] 毕福剑 — Bi Fujian
[5] 120 — yāo èr líng — emergency number
[6] 飞车赶到 — fēi chē gǎn dào — rushed arrival by flying car — to race over
[7] 美人计 — měi rén jì — beautiful person tactics — to flirt
[8] 牺牲色相 — xī shēng sè xiàng — to sacrifice color — to utilize one’s beauty in order to achieve a certain goal, often at the cost of offering one’s body (connotes seduction)
[9] People from the northern regions of China only speak standard Mandarin, whereas people of the southern regions have their own dialects. Therefore, northerners generally speak more accurate Mandarin.
[10] 剑眉星目 — jiàn méi xīng mù — swordlike eyebrows & starry eyes — one who has a heroic bearing; full of righteousness; the appearance of grace
[11] 魔高一尺道高一丈 — mó gāo yī chǐ dào gāo yī zhàng — virtue is one foot tall; the devil is ten feet tall — it takes constant vigilance to keep evil at bay
[12] 暗恋 — àn liàn — secret love — crush
[13] 重色轻友 — zhòng sè qīng yǒu — heavy on color & light on friendship — to pay more attention to a lover than to a friend — to care more about romance than amity — to value sex over friendship — hoes before bros
[14] 指天发誓 — zhǐ tiān fā shì — point at the sky & make a promise
[15] 谈恋爱 — tán liàn ài — to discuss love — to date, to be in a relationship, to go out — fall in love
[16] 己所不欲, 勿施于人 — jǐ suǒ bù yù, wù shī yú rén — do not do to others what you would not have them do to you (Confucian Analects)
Back when she was new to the job, Du Xiaosu had once heard Mo rant about the profession. “Working in this industry of ours, we wake up earlier than Zhou Ba Pi1, yet we sleep later than servers and flight attendants. We eat worse than pigs, yet we get worked harder than donkeys. We spend more time outside than we do inside. The circles under our eyes are darker than those of a panda’s eye patches. Our hair is messier than a bird’s nest. We have to speak and act with greater deference to others than a grandson does to his grandfather. It seems as if we are doing well for ourselves, when in actuality we earn less than migrant workers.”
As Du Xiaosu had listened, she had merely let out a “tch” of amusement, chuckling in response.
At this point, however, the rant had nearly become a semantic satiation. If someone were to jest about it now, Du Xiaosu doubted that she would have the energy to muster a smile.
In fact, after running around for four days at a feature film festival, Du Xiaosu did not even have the energy to make herself some instant noodles. The moment she had gotten home, she had immediately taken a warm shower. Then, she had waged a struggle with the hair dryer, only to find that it was broken.
Utterly sapped of any remaining strength, she did not bother to figure out why the hair dryer had decided to go on strike. Despite the fact that her hair was still wet, she collapsed into bed and was out cold the moment her body hit the mattress.
Du Xiaosu was so exhausted that she fell into a deep and dreamless slumber. It was only after her phone had rung numerous times that she finally got woken up by the chiming ringtone. She was still drowsy and dazed, even as she reached over to pick up.
As it turned out, Mo was the one calling her. Fuming, he roared at her to hurry up. “Where are you? Did you know that the other entertainment news agency got the headline before us?”
Du Xiaosu was temporarily stunned. It took her a moment to realize what was going on. “Mo Fu, I got transferred over to entertainment reporting.”
Mo Fu enunciated clearly as he replied, “I know you got transferred. It’s just that the other entertainment news agency made headlines when Yan Jingjing got into a car accident.”
Du Xiaosu’s mind was in a whirl as she crawled out of bed and began to get dressed. Clamping her phone between her cheek and her shoulder, Du Xiaosu asked hesitantly, “The immensely popular2 Yan Jingjing?”
“Who else could it be?” snapped Mo Fu angrily. “Is there a second Yan Jingjing?”
Du Xiaosu had always been terrified of being admitted to the hospital, especially at night. The brightly lit emergency rooms had always seemed chaotic3.
Du Xiaosu gritted her teeth as she rushed into the hospital, only to discover that dozens of her colleagues were already there, lying in ambush and fighting for the best vantage point.
The neighboring news agency’s entertainment reporter Bi was there as well. An opponent from Novel News, Bi looked nothing like China Central Television’s beloved host, whose surname was also Bi4. The Bi from Novel News was round and plump, especially in the face. At the moment, he was smiling provocatively at the frazzled Du Xiaosu and flashing his ridiculous dimples.
Du Xiaosu could feel the anger burning in the pit of her stomach, the flames threatening to leap out. “Bi,” Du Xiaosu greeted, forcing a smile even faker than his. “You were quite fast this time.”
“Not at all.” Bi was smiling so broadly that he almost resembled a Maitreya Buddha, although his tone bespoke every appearance of modesty. “It was pure luck. I just happened to be at the heels of Yan Jingjing’s car. Who knew that I would witness the car accident firsthand? I even got to photograph everything! I was actually the one who dialed 1-2-05 to call the ambulance. This time, I was really in luck. I never would’ve thought that I would get to snap these exclusive photos,” Bi chortled.
Even when talking about a car accident, Bi sounded exuberant. There was not a shred of sympathy in his voice.
Du Xiaosu turned around abruptly to ask another colleague, “Is she all right? Are the injuries serious?”
“I don’t know. She’s still in the operating room—she’s been in the operating room this entire time.”
Du Xiaosu looked around. A gaggle of entertainment reporters was waiting impatiently. Some were repeatedly calling their respective news agencies, while others were walking around with recorders in hand. Every so often, someone would get an update and rush off to join the group of people already waiting.
Meanwhile, Du Xiaosu took advantage of the time to take a nap on the bench.
She had just fallen asleep when Yan Jingjing’s agent, Zhao Shi, arrived in a rush. It looked like he had practically flown6 over.
Upon his arrival, the scene was instantly thrown into turmoil: cameras began flashing wildly.
Fed up, the hospital staff eventually began to drive people out.
“Kindly leave,” said the nurse. “Please do not hinder our usual operations.”
Bi smiled cheekily. “Miss Nurse, I’m not here for an interview. I’m here to visit the patient.” Bi waved the registration letter in his hand ostentatiously.
The straight-faced nurse replied, “You’re a patient? All right, come with me.”
“What? Why?” Now it was Bi’s turn to get nervous.
“To get checked,” the nurse said coldly. “I can tell that you’re ill.”
Everyone there burst into laughter.
Ultimately, the group of paparazzi was ushered out of the emergency center.
The biting wind was freezing cold. At this point, Du Xiaosu was so hungry that there was a gnawing pain in her belly. She could not bear the stomachache any longer, so she found a small restaurant right outside the hospital. Even though it was already eleven o’clock in the evening, the restaurant was still packed to the brim with diners.
When Du Xiaosu entered, the proprietor walked over sluggishly to show her to her seat and take her order. She ended up waiting for a long time before she got her bowl of eel noodles.
Once her order arrived, she immediately dug in. The steam rose enticingly and the aroma was mouthwatering. Delicious! It was so delectable that she nearly consumed it all in one gulp. Perhaps it tasted so scrumptious because she was so hungry. Still, Du Xiaosu barely paused to draw breath as she ate, her hunger overpowering her fear of getting scalded.
Suddenly, her phone rang. As expected, it was Mo. “How is it going? Have you gotten anything of value?”
“Not yet,” she garbled around a mouthful of noodles, swallowing impressively. “She’s still in the operation room. She hasn’t come out yet.”
“What about Zhao Shi? What did he say?”
“A bunch of people were surrounding him. He didn’t say anything, at least not before the hospital staff kicked us out.”
Mo sounded so angry that Du Xiaosu could almost imagine the steam coming out of his ears. “So, what if he didn’t say anything? Can’t you think of something? Flirt7 with him if you have to! Do you really need me to lead you by the hand?”
Du Xiaosu was unperturbed, continuing to eat her noodles as she retorted, “Fine, I’ll turn right back around and sacrifice my color8.”
Mo despaired. Du Xiaosu was hopeless. Sighing, he hung up abruptly.
Du Xiaosu carelessly set her phone back down on the table and continued eating with relish, nearly burying her face in her bowl as she practically inhaled the noodles.
From this angle, she could glimpse the midnight blue sweater of a diner sitting nearby. It was her favorite hue. Through the gap between her chopsticks, she caught sight of the plaid collar. When she raised her head slightly, she sighted a chin as well as a mouth. The corners of the lips were slightly upturned, as if in a smile.
It was midnight and she had just uttered the phrase “sacrifice my color” over the phone. It would be odder if someone sitting nearby who’d overheard didn’t get the wrong impression.
She really did not have the energy to care about what other people thought, so she dropped her eyes and continued to greedily guzzle her noodle soup, which tasted fresh, flavorful, and mellow. This dish definitely had a chicken soup base. It was a pity that she had devoured such delicious noodles so quickly.
As she was speed-walking out of the restaurant, someone from behind her spoke.
“Wait a moment.”
The voice was low and pleasing to the ear, the pronunciation accurate and round. The speaker was definitely a northerner9.
As she turned around to see who it was, she realized that the midnight blue of the sweater actually looked more like the deep blue of the sea under the dim light of the streetlamps.
It was the person who had been sitting nearby earlier. He extended his hand to reveal her phone.
Damn her terrible memory!
She promptly expressed her thanks, to which he simply replied, “It’s no problem.”
Right at that moment, a car drove past them on the street. The headlights flashed, illuminating his features for a split second. Oh, my! He had starry eyes and sharp brows10. He was striking.
Du Xiaosu had always had an inexplicable soft spot for handsome boys. When her good friend, Zou Siqi, had asked her why she made the decision to switch jobs and become a pap, Du Xiaosu had responded with rapture, “You get to see attractive people all day. You can also justify taking photos and paying visits. Isn’t that just ideal?”
“Nympho!” Zou Siqi had snorted.
Actually, Zou Siqi was even more of a nymphomaniac than Du Xiaosu.
Du Xiaosu ended up spending practically half the night in the hospital.
Meanwhile, back at the office, the news agency staff members were rushing to churn out a manuscript, even while yawning profusely. Everyone was surviving off of coffee in order to get a lift from the caffeine boost.
Du Xiaosu couldn’t muster the energy to be salacious, even if she wanted to.
“In the afternoon, when you go the hospital, you must capture photos of Yan Jingjing,” Mo pressed.
“The hospital is practically unassailable,” Du Xiaosu protested. “How are we supposed to get photos? The staff would never allow it.”
Mo ignored her protests. “Think of something on your own,” he said.
Evil capitalist!
Du Xiaosu could seethe all she wanted, but she still had to come up with a plan. If she couldn’t get the exclusive content, she wouldn’t get a bonus. If she didn’t get a bonus, she wouldn’t be able to pay her bills: rent, water, electricity, three meals a day, her annual leave vacation, spa treatments . . . .
Zou Siqi was right: in this world, the most difficult thing to collect and keep was coin.
The hospital did indeed turn out to be unassailable, with security guards standing staunchly on duty.
At the front desk, it was similarly impossible to seek Yan Jingjing’s room number.
“This is a hospital. Patients do not wish to be disturbed,” said the ever-vigilant nurse.
But what about the public curiosity and the right to information and her bonus?
The car accident had blackened the reputable Yan Jingjing’s name; the incident was practically making every entertainment magazine headline. Thanks to the exclusive photos that Bi had captured, Novel News was reportedly bringing in soaring sales at present.
If only there could be some development so that Du Xiaosu could also capture exclusive footage.
After whiling away the time at the hospital for nearly the entire afternoon, Du Xiaosu still had not gained entry through any of the doors. She was dejectedly packing up all her equipment and getting ready to head home when she saw Bi.
He began to wave at her, almost conspiratorially.
Du Xiaosu had no idea what he wanted. She had just been preparing to exit the building when he dragged her to the side, smiling deviously.
“Xiaosu, let’s collaborate, shall we?”
He made it sound so intimate that Du Xiaosu felt goosebumps rising on her skin.
“I know which ward Yan Jingjing is staying in right now,” Bi continued. “I have a way for you to slip in. After you get the photos, we’ll split them between us.”
Du Xiaosu was still wary. “Why don’t you just go yourself?”
Bi released a gusty sigh. “I wish,” he said. “Unfortunately, I’m a man.” Then, he unzipped the bag he was holding to reveal a nurse uniform.
Du Xiaosu found it all highly amusing as she changed into the nursing scrubs in the restroom. She looked at herself in the mirror after she put on the cap and the mask. Now, only her eyes were visible. She laughed inwardly. How did Bi think of such a ludicrous idea?
The hospital was rather large and medical personnel were rushing about. Nobody paid any attention to Du Xiaosu. She made it to the second-floor emergency center without any hindrance.
According to Bi, Yan Jingjing was still in the intensive care unit, which meant she hadn’t been moved to inpatient care after her surgery.
Even in the corridor, there were already numerous people from various entertainment news agencies.
Two people stood on guard like iron towers by the door, watching every move of the hospital staff. It was apparent that security could not be breached. Du Xiaosu doubted even a fly could make it past, not to mention herself and her camera. She resigned herself to her fate, dragging her feet as she glumly turned to leave.11
Suddenly, she had a flash of inspiration.
Pulling out Bi’s sketch, she examined it carefully for a long moment. On the palm-sized, crumpled up piece of paper, Du Xiaosu detected skewed pencil markings that resembled earthworms, squiggling on the page as if they were forming a diagram. The scribbled handwriting seemed to indicate the directions to reach the destination. Du Xiaosu nearly went crazy trying to decipher it. At last, she was able to figure it out.
Du Xiaosu was in luck: the floor-to-ceiling glass window in the intensive care unit was facing the outdoor fire escape stairs and the fire escape was conveniently located right next to Yang Jingjing’s ward.
As Du Xiaosu climbed the stars, she pulled out her camera and noticed that the angle was not ideal. Unfortunately, she had not dared to bring the colossal telephoto lens along with her. She was realizing that the camera’s original lens would not suffice. However, since she was already so close, she refused to give up. Spotting a long water pipe that ran along the length of the wall, she got another idea.
Under the heat of the sun, the pipes were not cold to the touch. On the other hand, they were a little slippery, perhaps because her palms were slick with sweat. With difficulty, she stepped onto the pipeline, using one of her hands to keep a firm grip and maintain her hold. To think that she was able to endure such a distorted position! Finally, she managed to free one of her hands to work the camera.
Now, the angle was perfect. Du Xiaosu waited patiently for the camera lens to focus. Gradually, the shot became less blurry.
As the frame became clear, Du Xiaosu sucked in her breath. Those deep eyes, those sharp eyebrows . . . even though she could only see the half of the face that was not covered by the face mask, she could certainly tell that the visible half was incredibly—almost inconceivably—handsome. Dressed in the white coat of a doctor, the person was tall and lithe, evocative of jade trees and making her think of irises and orchids. He stood still as the late autumn sunlight penetrated the glass, vivid and bright. Pale golden flecks of light flitted about like butterflies, seemly moored to his jet-black hairline.
For a moment, Du Xiaosu was in a trance, as if rendered dizzy and faint by the blazing sun. She even forgot to press down on the shutter.
Then, as his eyes met hers, he beheld her steadily, his gaze piercing through the camera lens.
In that moment, she was only aware of her own heartbeat going pitter patter. The sound seemed to grow louder with each thump.
The next moment, she recognized him. Yesterday, at the noodle restaurant, in the midnight blue sweater—that had been him. There was a faint roaring in her ears, as if her senses were overwhelmed by it all, as if her throbbing heart were swelling. The feeling was strange. It seemed as if a century had passed before she was able to return to her senses.
He strode over to the window as she came back to herself. Randomly raising the camera, she desperately pressed down on the shutter.
Then, with startling speed, she rushed back to the fire escape staircase.
She wasn’t fast enough.
He appeared swiftly before her on the stairwell, just in time to block her from descending the stairs.
Du Xiaosu was utterly at a loss, so she could only muster a weak smile.
He looked as if he were very angry. “What are you doing?”
Du Xiaosu caught sight of the name badge on his chest:
Shao Zhenrong, Neurosurgeon
Neurosurgeon? What kind of doctor was that? Did they treat the mentally ill?
Even as she internally panicked, Du Xiaosu remembered to force a laugh. “Doctor Shao, I’ve had a crush12 on you for the longest time, so I snuck inside to take a few photos of you. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Which medical department are you in?” He took off his mask, revealing his entire face. He was indeed the person in the midnight blue sweater who had given her phone back to her when she forgot it yesterday.
Although she recognized him now, he still did not recognize her at all. His lips were pursed and his tone was very stern as he said, “This kind of dangerous behavior—going so far as to climb the plumbing—do you understand what the consequences would’ve been if you had fallen from there?”
Infuriatingly, she feigned curiosity and asked, “What would the consequences have been if I had fallen?”
“If you were lucky, you would’ve gotten a soft tissue contusion, or perhaps you might’ve just broken a few bones. If not, considering how high up you were, your fall would’ve resulted in organ rupture and internal bleeding, a fractured spine, and even severe paraplegia.” He was still giving her that stern look as he said, “This is no trifling matter. Why aren’t you wearing a badge? Who is your head nurse? Which department are you actually in?”
Given that she unable to answer any of these questions, she could only widen her eyes in response. She continued gazing at him, even as a crisp autumn breeze whispered past the shells of their ears. She was suddenly reminded of the way the sweep of a dove’s wings looked under the clear sky: brilliant and joyful.
Suddenly, he extended his hand.
His fingers were slightly cool to the touch.
After they shook hands, she stood there as if possessed, neither moving nor saying a word. As she was temporarily dumbstruck, it was up to him to help her take off her mask.
She noticed that he, too, was startled when her face was revealed.
It was only after a few seconds passed that he spoke. “You again?” Now that he finally recognized her, he beheld her with some uncertainty. “Who exactly are you?”
That was a long story, so Du Xiaosu opted to tell the direct truth. “I’m an entertainment reporter. We’re commonly known as paparazzi.”
For some reason, she had a feeling he wouldn’t call over the security guards to escort her out. Sure enough, he only frowned slightly. “Entertainment reporter?”
“The person inside the hospital room is Yan Jingjing, is it not?” Her professional instincts were recovering rapidly now. “How are her injuries? Are you her doctor? Was the operation yesterday successful? Will there be sequelae? What are the specifics of the situation? Will there be alternative treatment solutions during the later stages of recovery? If so, could you describe in detail?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
“I’ll invite you out for dinner, Doctor Shao,” she said, smiling as sweetly as she could. “Can’t you disclose even just a little bit of information?”
There was a subtly sullen look in his eyes. It was only because he was well-trained that he didn’t show it. “Unfortunately, I cannot disclose the details of a patient’s condition. Dressing up as a member of the hospital staff to sneak inside and take photos is extremely immoral. In addition, what you did just now was extremely dangerous. Please leave the hospital immediately. Otherwise, I will have to notify security.”
In the end, she got driven out of the hospital.
Bi was waiting for her outside at the far end of the street.
“I didn’t even get to take a single photo before I got sighted,” said Du Xiaosu, who was extremely frustrated.
Bi looked doubtful. “You’re not trying to keep all the benefits to yourself, are you? Don’t even think about casting me aside so you can get the exclusive content all to yourself. That would be so ungrateful.”
Du Xiaosu was on the verge of losing her temper. “You’re a horrible person!”
Actually, she had gotten a few photos. Back there, when she had panicked, hanging in mid-air, she had squeezed the camera shutter repeatedly and caught several photos of Shao Zhenrong.
This man was truly very good-looking. His eyes, especially, were as deep as the sea. Under the bright light of the autumn sun, his entire being bore resemblance to an arbor, towering and strong.
Since he was so stunning and alluring, Du Xiaosu selected one of the photos to adorn her desk.
One day, Zou Siqi noticed the addition. Immediately, she began to exclaim, “Who is this? A doctor? He looks so handsome in a white coat! Do you have a way of contacting him? Has he been contracted? Is he interested in modeling in a shoot for our company?”
“No, no, no, no!” Du Xiaosu waved Zou Siqi away. “Move aside, I still have work to do!”
Zou Siqi clutched the photo monitor, refusing to let go. “Print me a copy of this photo or I’ll never release my hold, even if you pummel me to death.”
Du Xiaosu declined to do so, as she wanted to keep it to herself.
“You care more about romance than you do about your friend13,” Zou Siqi scolded. “Ungrateful.”
“As if you’re any better than I am! Sure, you’re so conscientious that you tricked me into going on a blind date for you!” Du Xiaosu rebuked.
The moment Du Xiaosu brought up the blind date, Zou Siqi softened. Now, she was all smiles. “Hehe . . . Du Xiaosu . . . aren’t we friends? What are friends for? Plus, he comes from a respectable family. Surely that can’t have posed too much of a grievance for you, right? Afterwards, he even asked me for your phone number.”
Eyes blazing, Du Xiaosu shot back, “And did you give it to him?”
“No, I didn’t!” Zou Siqi declared, swearing an oath to the heavens14. “I really didn’t! If I had, you would’ve skinned me alive!”
“Consider yourself tactful.”
“Xiaosu . . .”
“What?”
“Oh, Xiaosu. You should really consider taking the relationship one step further when you meet someone suitable. In all the grandness of youth, wouldn’t it be a waste if you never fell in love15?” Zou Siqi said in all earnestness.
“Why are you acting exactly like your mother? Don’t you hate blind dates the most? When your mother made plans for you, you tricked me into going in your stead. Do not do to others what you would not have them do to you16. Why are suddenly taking an interest in acting as a matchmaker?”
“Xiaosu.” Zou Siqi seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Earlier, when I was in Beijing on a business trip, I bumped into Lin Xiangyuan.”
[1] 周扒皮 — zhōu bā pí — Zhou Xiaochuan — “The Flayer” — Governor of the People’s Bank of China
[2] 红得发紫 — hóng de fā zǐ — so red, nearly purple —to enjoy great popularity
[3] 兵荒马乱 — bīng huāng mǎ luàn — the turmoil of war
[4] 毕福剑 — Bi Fujian
[5] 120 — yāo èr líng — emergency number
[6] 飞车赶到 — fēi chē gǎn dào — rushed arrival by flying car — to race over
[7] 美人计 — měi rén jì — beautiful person tactics — to flirt
[8] 牺牲色相 — xī shēng sè xiàng — to sacrifice color — to utilize one’s beauty in order to achieve a certain goal, often at the cost of offering one’s body (connotes seduction)
[9] People from the northern regions of China only speak standard Mandarin, whereas people of the southern regions have their own dialects. Therefore, northerners generally speak more accurate Mandarin.
[10] 剑眉星目 — jiàn méi xīng mù — swordlike eyebrows & starry eyes — one who has a heroic bearing; full of righteousness; the appearance of grace
[11] 魔高一尺道高一丈 — mó gāo yī chǐ dào gāo yī zhàng — virtue is one foot tall; the devil is ten feet tall — it takes constant vigilance to keep evil at bay
[12] 暗恋 — àn liàn — secret love — crush
[13] 重色轻友 — zhòng sè qīng yǒu — heavy on color & light on friendship — to pay more attention to a lover than to a friend — to care more about romance than amity — to value sex over friendship — hoes before bros
[14] 指天发誓 — zhǐ tiān fā shì — point at the sky & make a promise
[15] 谈恋爱 — tán liàn ài — to discuss love — to date, to be in a relationship, to go out — fall in love
[16] 己所不欲, 勿施于人 — jǐ suǒ bù yù, wù shī yú rén — do not do to others what you would not have them do to you (Confucian Analects)
