Chapter Forty-Four: Others Laugh at My Frivolity, While I Laugh at Their Failure to See Through

There is no such thing as a banquet that never ends, just as there is no elevator that never opens its doors. Good times are always fleeting, leaving one yearning, wishing desperately for five hundred more years in their embrace.

Once he left the elevator and parted ways with Lin Xiaolei, Wang Zheng was struck by a sudden sense of boredom. With his hands in his pockets and whistling a tune, he strolled down the street toward home.

“Hey!” Unable to stand the silence, Bai Bing jabbed Wang Zheng’s waist with her elbow, eyeing him mischievously. “Do you really like her?”

“Hm? Who?” Wang Zheng, lost in thought and without any preamble, hadn’t caught a word she said.

“Lin Xiaolei!”

“What about her?”

Bai Bing, seeing his reaction, felt a surge of triumph, certain she had uncovered Wang Zheng’s secret. She assumed he was feigning ignorance to cover up. She coughed, cleared her throat, and stared at him, enunciating every word, “I’m asking if you like Lin Xiaolei.”

Wang Zheng stopped and looked at Bai Bing. The pride on her face reminded him of a third grader who just received a gold star.

“Yes, I do. Why?” he replied, then kept walking, unwilling to waste words. After all, he wasn’t obliged to report his private life to an amateur spy.

Bai Bing was caught off guard by his frankness. Hurrying to keep up, she pressed him, “What do you like about her?”

Women—especially beautiful ones—have a subconscious urge to compare themselves. Bai Bing didn’t think she was inferior to Lin Xiaolei, yet Wang Zheng liked Lin Xiaolei, whom he’d only met a few times, instead of her. Was it because she lacked charm? Unable to understand, she asked her question—not out of affection for Wang Zheng, but because something felt unfair.

“She’s kind, gentle—sometimes like a night-blooming cereus, blossoming quietly, beautiful yet tinged with sadness. Sometimes she’s like a white rose—pure and elegant. Why wouldn’t I like her?” Wang Zheng answered with a dreamy smile.

Bai Bing bristled. Did that mean she was nothing but an ordinary roadside weed? With a cold snort, she said, gloating, “Don’t get your hopes up—she’d never like a man like you!”

“What’s wrong with a man like me? I’d want to be a woman in my next life just so I could marry someone like me!” Wang Zheng said earnestly, glancing at Bai Bing. “Tell me—what kind of man am I?”

“Narcissistic, frivolous, shameless!” Bai Bing retorted, wishing she could find a muddy ditch for this infuriating man to see his own reflection.

“Heh!” Wang Zheng wasn’t offended by her jibe. Instead, he laughed, his manner carefree as he walked on. “Let others laugh at my frivolity; I’ll laugh at their lack of insight! I’ve chosen this path, and I won’t live as I did before. I treat the present as enjoyment—I don’t want every aspect of life to become a chore. Knighthood, gentlemanly airs—one’s pretentious, the other’s fake. I can do both, but I just can’t be bothered. Call me frivolous or call me a fool—I accept it! I’ll walk my own road, and let the idiots say what they want!”

Watching Wang Zheng—an air of world-weariness and enlightenment about him—Bai Bing suddenly found his words made a certain sense. A man who had survived eight years alone in Africa, who could come and go under the noses of rebel militias, could he really be frivolous?

No.

And now, if he still lived as he had in Africa, wouldn’t life be too dull? Besides, this wasn’t Africa—there were no natives, no rebels, no terrorists. Perhaps his unruliness was a way to distinguish his new life from the past, to make it brighter and more colorful.

As she watched his retreating figure, Bai Bing unconsciously nodded, a look of understanding on her face. Yet she also felt a tinge of disappointment—disappointment in herself. If she didn’t even understand his heart, how could she hope to persuade him to return to the organization?

She had lost—utterly and completely.

But maybe there was still time, still a chance to make amends. She could take the initiative to get close to him, to understand him, his people, his heart. Then, perhaps...

Wait—didn’t he just say, “I’ll walk my own road, and let the idiots say what they want”?

What did he mean by that? Hadn’t she been the one criticizing him just now? The bastard—wasn’t he calling her an idiot in a roundabout way?

Fury flared in Bai Bing’s chest—she wanted nothing more than to buy five yuan’s worth of dynamite and blow Wang Zheng to smithereens. But she remembered her mission: to get close to him, to understand him. Rationality triumphed over anger.

“I—I won’t stoop to fighting with a man,” Bai Bing comforted herself.

...

Bai Bing’s cooking was at least as good as that restaurant’s at lunch. Guided by the principle, “Only a fool passes up a free ride or a free housekeeper,” Wang Zheng left her in charge of dinner.

“Why buy so much food for just the two of us?” Bai Bing frowned at him as they left the supermarket, her arms full of vegetables. Wang Zheng carried pork, beef, and a carp.

“With a host like me, you should count yourself lucky. I promise you won’t get shortchanged,” Wang Zheng replied. After all, he wasn’t the one sweating over the stove.

“Hmph, aren’t you afraid I’ll slip rat poison into your food?” Bai Bing sneered, very much tempted to add a little “seasoning” to the dishes for this insufferable man.

“I’m just afraid you won’t find the real stuff,” he shot back.

Outside the Huamei Community, a moving truck was parked, with a few pieces of furniture scattered on the ground. Movers were loading things onto the truck—someone was moving out.

Wang Zheng sighed deeply. Whether it was a man or a woman leaving, this person was a fool! Why?

If it was a woman, she’d missed her chance with an outstanding man like him. If it was a man, wasn’t he an idiot to leave a neighborhood full of beauties? Not just an idiot—a first-class idiot among idiots!

“I remember you have a bookshelf like that in your study,” Bai Bing remarked, eyeing a piece of furniture being moved.

“Yes, it’s quite similar. Seems like this owner has good taste!” Wang Zheng replied, appearing to praise someone else but really praising himself. Yet it didn’t change the fact that whoever was moving was still a fool.

“And that table looks familiar too!”

“Clearly the owner’s not just tasteful, but exceptional!” Yet still, a fool.

Wang Zheng and Bai Bing chatted along the way, mostly with him praising himself and teasing her, hoping to see Bai Bing lose her temper before dinner to whet his appetite.

As they reached the third floor, Wang Zheng suddenly stopped, raising his arm to block Bai Bing and signaling her to be quiet.

“Shh—!”

Bai Bing paused, catching his look and understanding. She followed him quietly up the stairs, and as they rounded the corner, both stopped.

The door to Wang Zheng’s apartment stood wide open.

“A thief?”