Another three days passed. Bai Peiwen had visited at least a dozen dance halls, yet Han Yan's whereabouts remained utterly elusive. Firstly, Bai Peiwen didn′t know what name Han Yan might be using in the dance halls. Secondly, he had no photograph of her on hand. As a result, he resorted to bribing the dance hall managers to show him photos of their hostesses. However, this method was far from effective, as many hostesses didn′t even have photos.

  Thus, he often sat quietly in a corner of the dance hall, chain smoking, watching the hostesses one by one, and then left silently.

  But that night, at st, he saw her—he saw Han Yan!

  It was a second- or third-rate ballroom, noisy, chaotic, and filled with smoke. A small band was pying loud music, and the narrow dance floor was packed with couples dancing the jitterbug. Han Yan was spinning in the arms of a middle-aged man, her earrings and neckce sparkling under the dim light, reflecting the glow of the lights on her ears and neck. Although the light was so dim, the dance floor so crowded, and Han Yan′s appearance so different from usual...

  Bai Peiwen still recognized her at once. The moment he walked into the ballroom, he recognized her! His heart raced, he felt dizzy, and he shivered with emotion as he sat down. He spoke a few words to the heads of the dancers and pointed to Han Yan on the dance floor. Then he wrote a check to the heads of the dancers. The head looked at him in surprise and walked away. He ordered a bottle of liquor, lit a cigarette, and sat there quietly, drinking gss after gss. After an unknown amount of time, a shadow fell over him, a figure standing in front of him.

  He slowly looked up. A bck velvet dress wrapped a small, fragile body, the open neckline revealing a long, delicate neck. Her pale, fragile shoulders looked pitiful, and the shining neckce clung to her delicate skin, probably freezing it. His gaze rose and met hers.

  She seemed to have been struck by a sudden, overwhelming shock. The color drained swiftly from her cheeks and lips. Supporting herself on the table with one hand, her body swayed unsteadily. He stood up and caught her just in time, guiding her to sit down on a chair. With trembling hands, he poured her a gss of wine and pced it in front of her. She picked up the gss and drained it in one quick gulp.

  Sitting across from her, he gazed at her through a sudden mist of tears. She was even thinner now, even more haggard. The makeup on her face couldn′t conceal her pallor or exhaustion. Dark circles under her eyes were starkly visible, and her long shes fluttered weakly, shading her dazed and withdrawn gaze.

  He bit his lip, his heart wrenching painfully, unbearably so.

  "Han Yan!" he called softly, pcing one trembling hand over her delicate one resting on the table. "I′ve suffered so much searching for you!"

  She gently withdrew her hand, raising her eyebrows as her eyes—sharp and distant for the first time that evening—met his directly. There was a thin yer of judgment in her gaze and faint, detached coldness.

  "Would you like to dance, sir?" She asked, her small face icy and aloof. "Thank you for supporting my work."

  "Han Yan!" he cried, his desperation leaving him at a loss for words. Her expressionless face cut into him like a knife, throwing him into panic and nervous confusion. Amid his frantic state, an unbearable pain churned deep within him.

  "Han Yan, don′t be like this! I came to apologize—I came to take you away!" He pleaded hastily, his palms damp with sweat.

  "Take me out," she murmured. "That's right, you've paid the fee to take me out, so you can take me out." She stood up and quietly looked at him. "Are we leaving now, sir?"

  He looked at her, that haggard face, the weary expression, the indifferent look, as if he were just an ordinary dance partner, a distant, unfamiliar stranger to her. His heart was torn apart, ripped by her demeanor. He understood one thing: she no longer wanted to continue their retionship. He had lost her! He had once held her in his hands, but now he had lost her!

  "Well?" she asked. "Leave? Or dance?" He gritted his teeth, then suddenly stood up.

  "Alright, let's leave first! Get out of this hellhole!"

  Han Yan fetched her coat, and Bai Peiwen helped her put it on, then wrapped his arm around her waist. They left the ballroom. Han Yan didn′t reject his embrace, which gave him a flicker of hope. But as he gazed at her from under his eyeshes, he noticed an indifferent, uncaring look on her face, and he was hurt again.

  "Where to?" she asked him.

  "Where are you staying now?"

  "Just nearby."

  "Can I come over to your pce for a bit?"

  "Sure," she said, raising her eyebrows slightly. "If that′s what you′d like."

  She fell silent and continued walking. The te autumn wind blew against them, carrying a deep chill. She shivered slightly, and instinctively, he pulled her closer. She didn′t resist.

  This was Zhongshan North Road. Turning into an alley, they entered an apartment building and went up to the second floor. Han Yan took a key from her handbag and unlocked the door.

  Bai Peiwen found himself in a small but exquisitely decorated living room. This was nothing like the small, modest room she had lived in before. The walls were lined with wallpaper, a luxurious chandelier hung from the ceiling, there was a record pyer, a liquor cabinet dispying dozens of different bottles, an elegant set of sofas, and floor-length curtains in a deep red shade hung over the windows.

  As Bai Peiwen looked around the room, his heart ached faintly. He was standing in what was clearly the home of a woman accustomed to the social nightlife, and he knew this was a pce frequented by guests.

  "The room is nicely decorated," he said insincerely.

  "Really?" she asked lightly. "It's a rented pce; even the furniture and decor are rented. I haven't changed anything. If it were my own house, I would have chosen beige and brown to decorate the living room, white, gold, and bck for the bedroom, with a red bedspread or something." She pointed to the sofa.

  "Please sit down." Opening the ashtray on the small table, she asked, "Do you smoke?"

  "No."

  "Would you like a drink?" She walked over to the bar and took out a gss. "What would you like? Brandy or whiskey?"

  "No, nothing at all," he said, a little agitated, his gaze fixed firmly on her. "Well, what about something else? Orange juice? Soda? Co? You have to drink something! You′ve spent so much money on me, I should at least treat you well!" She said, purposely avoiding his gaze.

  He walked up to her, grabbed her arm with his hand, and twisted her body around, forcing her to face him. Then he looked deeply at her face, his eyes red-rimmed, his hair disheveled, his breath heavy, his face pale and haggard.

  "Enough!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Stop tormenting me, Han Yan. I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong! Please, stop torturing me!" He couldn't control himself; he pulled her tightly into his arms, burying his face painfully in the colr of her dress.

  "Go ahead, get angry! Hit me, scold me, yell at me, call me the biggest fool, but don't torment me like this with your indifference! Please, don't! You know, for the past month, I've done nothing but search for you. The punishment you've given me is enough; it's enough! Han Yan, have mercy on me!"