I'm conquering Hong Kong entertainment with two billion US dollars.

That evening, Fu Lin Men.

In the largest private room, eight dishes were laid out on a round table, with a pot of slow-cooked soup in the center, the soup being thick and white.

Five people—Lin Dong, Han Sanping, Jiang Wen, Xiang Yeqiang, and Chen Xinjian—sat around the table.

Xiang Yeqiang arrived midway.

The wrap party for "Prince of Dark Horse" was only halfway through when he pulled Wang Jing aside, gave him a few instructions, and then left with two bottles of Moutai.

As he entered, he shook hands with Han Sanping firmly. "Director Han, it's been a long time. Make sure you enjoy your meal today."

Han Sanping stood up, shook hands with him, and nodded. "Xiang Sheng, you're too kind."

"You're welcome. Sit down and have a drink." Xiang Yeqiang slammed the Moutai bottle onto the table, the bottom of the bottle hitting the turntable with a dull thud.

Pour the wine.

The first toast was offered by Han Sanping. He stood up with his glass in hand, and without a long speech, simply said four words: "Mr. Lin, thank you." Then he tilted his head back and downed the two-ounce glass in one gulp.

Lin Dong also stood up and drank a cup with him.

The second toast was offered by Xiang Yeqiang. He toasted Han Sanping, the Beijing Film Studio, and the cooperation between the two places.

Without saying a word, Han Sanping started working again.

Jiang Wen stood beside him, holding a glass. He wasn't very polite and drank his own wine. After finishing, he smacked his lips and said, "This wine is excellent."

Then there's no need to raise a glass.

The five of them talked about movies, the market, Hollywood, and the prospects of mainland cinemas. When they got excited, they would clink glasses and then continue talking.

Chen Xinjian was the most restrained when drinking, taking only a small sip each time he raised his glass, and always remaining sober.

After drinking his third glass, Xiang Yeqiang took off his suit jacket and draped it over the back of his chair, loosened his tie, and began to speak louder and louder.

Jiang Wen challenged him, and the two downed three cups in a row. Han Sanping stood by, smiling and waving his hand, saying that he was too old to drink as much as the young people, but every time someone toasted him, he would still drink every last drop.

By the time they'd finished the fifth bottle, Xiang Yeqiang was already slumped over the table. Jiang Wen was still trying to stay awake, but his eyes were starting to glaze over.

Han Sanping's face was flushed, and he talked more than usual, repeatedly saying while holding Lin Dong's hand, "Lin Sheng, I've decided to be your friend."

When the party ended, Xiang Yeqiang's bodyguards were already waiting outside, and Jiang Wen and Han Sanping also had someone to meet them, which saved them a lot of trouble.

Lin Dong took a car directly back to Happy Valley.

When he arrived at the front door of his house, Lin Dong took out his key and hesitated for a long time before finally inserting it into the lock.

The door opened.

The living room lights were on.

Zhang Baizhi jumped up from the sofa and quickly went to the door to greet them.

She was wearing a white cotton loungewear dress, her hair was loosely coiled at the back of her head with a chopstick, and her face was clean and without makeup.

"Dong-ge, how much did you drink?" She reached out and took his arm, leading him toward the sofa.

Lin Dong sat down on the sofa, leaned back, and the ceiling above his head slowly rotated.

Zhang Baizhi jogged into the kitchen and brought out a bowl of hangover soup.

The soup was prepared in advance, with kudzu root, dried tangerine peel, and honey dates, and kept warm in a thermos. It was still steaming when it was served.

She knelt beside the sofa, scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and brought it to his lips.

"I can do it myself." Lin Dong took the bowl, drank it down in a few gulps, and put the empty bowl on the coffee table.

Zhang Baizhi did not collect the bowls.

She went around behind the sofa, placed her hands on his shoulders, and gently massaged his trapezius muscles with her thumbs, applying just the right amount of pressure, each stroke hitting the very spot that was sore.

"Brother Dong, is that enough force?"

"...Hmm." Lin Dong closed his eyes.

She found a knot in the gap between her shoulder blades and slowly untied it with her thumb.

Just as everything was quiet, the door lock clicked.

Then the door was pushed open. Li Jiaxin stood in the doorway.

Wearing black stilettos, a tea-brown satin evening gown, and with makeup still lingering from the wrap party, she looked stunning.

Her gaze swept around the living room—Lin Dong was leaning back on the sofa, and Zhang Baizhi was standing behind the sofa with his hands on his shoulders.

Then that gaze froze.

"Michelle," Zhang Baizhi said sweetly, his fingers sliding from Lin Dong's shoulder down to his neck without retracting. "The wrap party ended so early? You must be tired. I'll take care of Dong-ge, so you don't need to worry."

The last sentence was spoken lightly, but the word "I" was pronounced exceptionally clearly.

Li Jiaxin didn't reply. She kicked off her high heels, stepped barefoot onto the carpet, walked to the coffee table, picked up the bowl Lin Dong had drunk from, and smelled it.

"A hangover cure?"

"Yes. I made it especially for Brother Dong." Zhang Baizhi walked around from behind the sofa, stood in front of the coffee table, and stood next to Li Jiaxin.

She was half a head shorter, but when she tilted her head back, she exuded an even more unyielding air. "Michelle, you've had quite a bit to drink, haven't you? Would you like me to get you a bowl?"

Li Jiaxin put down the bowl, turned around, and faced Zhang Baizhi.

She didn't say anything. She raised her right hand and grabbed Zhang Baizhi's hair.

Zhang Baizhi screamed—not from pain, but from shock.

She was pulled back two steps, her scalp tightened, and her neck was forced to tilt back, revealing the red mark on her collarbone that Lin Dong had previously nibbled at.

Li Jiaxin stared at the mark for two seconds. Then she released her grip, very suddenly, causing Zhang Baizhi to lose his balance and fall another step.

Before she could even stand up straight, Li Jiaxin stepped forward and grabbed her hair again—this time even harder.

"You were quite capable when I wasn't around," Li Jiaxin said calmly, as if stating a fact.

Zhang Baizhi reached out to pry her fingers open, but couldn't. Li Jiaxin's wrists looked slender, but her strength was surprisingly great.

Zhang Baizhi tried to pry it open but couldn't, and suddenly stopped struggling. She lowered her hand, tilted her head, and a very faint smile curved her lips.

It's not laughter, it's the kind of restraint that comes from achieving one's goal and not letting oneself become too smug.

Then her eyes reddened.

"Dong-ge—" She turned her face, her voice trembling with sobs, and stretched out both hands towards Lin Dong's direction, "Sister Michelle—"

Lin Dong leaned back on the sofa and rubbed his temples.

Li Jiaxin didn't give Zhang Baizhi a chance to finish speaking. She grabbed her hair and pushed her forward, causing Zhang Baizhi to stumble and fall onto the sofa next to Lin Dong.

Li Jiaxin followed, her knees pressed against the edge of the sofa, one hand on her shoulder, the other raised.

"Smack."

It wasn't a slap. It was Lin Dong's palm that landed on Li Jiaxin's buttocks. The sound echoed crisply in the living room.

Li Jiaxin stopped moving and turned her head in disbelief.

Lin Dong stood up, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her away from Zhang Baizhi. Then he turned around and slapped Zhang Baizhi's buttocks.

Zhang Baizhi lay on the sofa and groaned softly.

Treat everyone fairly. Give each of them a slap in the face.

"Have you made enough of a scene?"

Neither woman spoke.

Lin Dong bent down, put his left arm around Li Jiaxin's waist and his right arm around Zhang Baizhi's waist, lowered his knees, and used his waist and abdomen to lift the two of them up at the same time.

Li Jiaxin punched him in the back, and Zhang Baizhi kicked his leg, but it was no use.

He kicked the bedroom door open.

The mattress made a dull thud when the three people fell onto the bed.

Li Jiaxin tried to get up, but Zhang Baizhi was faster—she didn't run or dodge, but instead reached out and grabbed the shoulder strap of Li Jiaxin's evening dress and pulled hard.

The tea-brown satin slipped off her shoulders, revealing the black lace trim underneath.

"You—" Li Jiaxin's face finally turned red, not from drunkenness, but from anger.

She reached out and grabbed Zhang Baizhi's collar, pulling the neckline of his white cotton dress askew, revealing a section of his collarbone and half of his shoulder.

Zhang Baizhi didn't stop her; instead, he went to meet her, his fingers groping for the zipper on Li Jiaxin's back, and pulled it down all the way.

The satin skirt slipped off her chest and bunched up at her waist.

As the two of them wrestled together, Zhang Baizhi glanced over Li Jiaxin's shoulder and looked at Lin Dong.

There was no grievance or sob in that glance, only a faint, deeply hidden smugness.

Then she looked away and focused on dealing with the rest of Li Jiaxin's clothes.

Lin Dong stood at the foot of the bed, looking at them.

Then he joined the fray, and the sounds of tearing fabric, suppressed gasps, and the crisp sound of hands slapping against skin mingled together with the gradually changing tone of his breathing.