Chapter 1: A Shameless Couple!

The café was almost empty that morning. With nothing to do, the waitresses clustered in a corner of the lounge, watching a rerun of last night’s Entertainment Express.

“Entertainment First Look, today is September 6, 2013. Welcome to this episode of Entertainment Express, I’m your host, Feifei.” The beautiful host smiled, script in hand. “As we all know, the entertainment industry is forever birthing new idols, and this year’s hottest newcomer is none other than He Shuai, who’s not only released an album but also filmed a TV drama. So today, we’ve invited He Shuai to share his story with us.”

Dazzling stage lights swiveled toward the entrance. Dressed in a beige casual suit, He Shuai jogged to center stage.

Fans screamed and applauded from below.

“No wonder he’s the sunshine heartthrob—he steals the show the second he appears,” Feifei remarked. “Why don’t you introduce yourself to everyone?”

He Shuai turned to the camera. “Hello, everyone, I’m He Shuai. I’m delighted to meet you all on Entertainment Express.”

He waved, smiling, dimples deepening in his cheeks.

Sunny, handsome, approachable, yet never overstepping.

“He really is good-looking,” someone commented.

“Of course! Who could be more handsome than our Shuai?” Li Hong cupped her cheeks dreamily. “And he’s not just good-looking—he’s got a great personality too. Did you see that magazine article? A female fan fainted from heatstroke and our Shuai carried her to the hospital himself. I wish I could’ve been that girl, I’d die of happiness!”

“Dream on, you fool!” another replied. “But He Shuai’s not my type. I prefer mature men like King Shen—low-key, steady, and graceful.” Zhang Qing set down her glass. “Hey, I heard there’s going to be a promo for He Shuai’s new drama at the central plaza tomorrow. Aren’t you going?”

“I wish I could, but I’m not off tomorrow,” Li Hong replied, eyes darting over to the bar. “Xiao Qi, you’re off tomorrow, right? Can you—?”

Mo Qi set down the glass she was wiping, smiling. “I can’t.”

“Come on, Xiao Qi, help me out. I’ll treat you to a big meal!” Li Hong begged, hands pressed together, lips pouting.

“I’ve got something important tomorrow. Even if you offered me dragon meat, I wouldn’t trade.” Mo Qi untied her apron. “I’m off—go ahead and keep fangirling.”

“You cold, heartless girl, I’ll never forgive you!” Li Hong protested in mock despair.

Mo Qi waved without looking back, headed to the staff room to change, then left the café via the back employee entrance.

He Shuai’s new drama was about to air. Although he was only the second male lead, it was still a breakthrough.

“A thousand-year-old turtle, a ten-thousand-year-old terrapin—buy him a pair of little turtles as a gift, wishing his career a long, steady run.” Mo Qi grinned and caught a cab to the bird market to buy a pair of small turtles.

She knew exactly where He Shuai would stay when he returned to C City.

Clutching the turtles, Mo Qi arrived at the old He family apartment. Sure enough, the lights were on.

She came regularly to clean, so she had a key.

She pulled it out, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. By the shoe cabinet stood a pair of beige men’s shoes and a pair of bright red women’s heels.

Mo Qi never wore heels. They certainly weren’t hers.

In the living room, the DVD player was spinning pop music. The old spiral staircase creaked faintly as she climbed.

Mo Qi went upstairs.

The bedroom door was wide open. On the bed, a man and a woman tangled together, their cries echoing off the walls.

Mo Qi leaned back against the wall, gripping the glass tank in her hands.

After the climax, He Shuai wrapped his arms around the beautiful woman, teasing, “Feifei, you’re amazing.”

“Oh?” Feifei lit a slender cigarette, exhaling smoke toward He Shuai. “How do I compare to your little girlfriend?”

“Do you think I’d fall for a wild country girl like her?” He Shuai scoffed. “Average looks, frumpy body, and she still naively believes in saving herself for her wedding night—it’s laughable.”

“You heartless thing. That’s called faithfulness.” Feifei playfully tapped his forehead. “And before you started earning money, she stuck by you and supported you.”

“She did that willingly.” He Shuai moved closer, fingers slipping over Feifei’s chest. “Just like us—we’re both willing, aren’t we?”

“You bad boy. Be careful not to break that girl’s heart.” Feifei leaned in, biting his lip.

Mo Qi, still leaning against the wall, suddenly laughed.

Willingness, giving without expecting anything in return—did they think she was an idiot?

She strode into the bedroom. “It is pretty heartbreaking.”

The pair on the bed froze. Feifei shrieked and dove under the covers.

He Shuai clutched the blanket, eyes wide with alarm. “Xiao… Xiao Qi, what are you doing here?”

“Bringing you a gift.” Mo Qi knelt on one knee on the soft mattress. “A pair of little turtles—don’t they suit you, you old turtle bastard?”

“Xiao—Mo Qi, this is my place, you need to—” Seeing the smile on her lips, He Shuai’s voice softened involuntarily. “Just go downstairs. I’ll be right there.”

He knew her too well. The calmer she looked, the crazier she would act. Just like back in school, when she had handed him her chance to debut without batting an eye.

“He Shuai, you’re still hard, aren’t you?”

Following her gaze, He Shuai realized what she meant. Instinctively, he tried to cover himself.

But Feifei was curled in the blanket; his hands were trapped.

Mo Qi reached into the tank, grabbed both turtles, and shoved them toward He Shuai’s mouth.

He turned his head to dodge, but Mo Qi pinned his face down, picked up the glass tank with her other hand, and smashed it down onto his groin without hesitation.

A scream tore the air.

Doubling up in agony, He Shuai curled on the bed, wailing in pain.

Feifei, terrified, sprang from the covers, snatched up her dress, and made for the door.

“No need to run, I’m not going to hit you.”

Feifei clutched her dress over her body, frozen in the doorway.

Mo Qi tossed the glass tank to the floor, dusted off her hands, and stood. “You know why I never slept with He Shuai?”

“He said—”

“He’s full of crap,” Mo Qi replied. “I never slept with him because he’s sick.”

Feifei’s eyes widened in shock. Mo Qi’s lips curved in a cold smile. “Exactly what you’re thinking. HIV.”

“Mo Qi, stop lying!” He Shuai’s face had gone white from pain, which only made him look guiltier in Feifei’s eyes.

Feifei stared at him, horrified.

“You know if I’m lying or not.” Mo Qi shrugged and walked out without looking back.

“He Shuai! I’ll kill you!” Feifei, unable to accept the possibility she’d been infected, screamed and flung herself at him.

“Fei—Feifei, don’t—!”

Outside, Mo Qi gazed up at the second-floor window. Three years of love, all fed to the dogs.

Crash!

The fight inside had gotten out of control; as He Shuai dodged the crazed Feifei, he accidentally knocked open the window, his elbow sending the potted plant on the iron rack tumbling down.

The loud crash startled them both. They stopped and looked outside.

Blood streamed down from a split scalp, warm and sticky across her cheek.

As Mo Qi lost consciousness, her last thought was: to be killed by a flowerpot—what a cheap way out for those two bastards.