On Gongyuan North Street, rows of old apartment buildings stood like people in their twilight years, quietly basking in the afternoon sunlight.
Zeng Haiyan's home was on the fourth floor of one of them.
The stairwell was crammed with clutter, and the air smelled of old belongings mixed with cooking fumes.
She pushed her tricycle, with its welded iron frame and frying pot, to the building entrance and parked in her family's dedicated spot, its wheels creaking over the concrete.
Business had been as brisk as ever today. All the stinky tofu she had prepared had sold out in just a few hours.
She had packed up earlier than expected and was pleased, but she felt no sense of ease. Instead, she hurried as though something were chasing her.
She ran upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.
She had to get home quickly, shower, change, and put on makeup.
Tonight's dinner was about more than simply treating Wei Zijin.
She also wanted to invite Wang Xiaoliang and Zhou Qiang.
Yes, she had to invite them.
Anger, shame, resentment, and regret so thick it would not dissolve.
Like a pot of bitter medicine boiled for far too long, these emotions had tormented her day after day since her return from Fucheng.
Her mind was filled with that one word-concubine.
That charlatan Fan Qishan had shattered all her pride with that single word.
The trouble was, she could not get it out of her head.
She regretted it.
She truly regretted it.
If, after that night at the hotel, she had not asked about Liu Xinyu's living allowance, had not left without saying goodbye after daybreak, had not sent that pretentiously aloof message saying, "We're more comfortable as friends"...
How would things have turned out?
At the time, Liu Xinyu