Chapter Five: Tang Xin’s Private Diary

Chapter Five: Tang Xin’s Secret Diary!

Bai Su was exceptionally persuasive. She not only convinced Tang Zhong to join Butterfly but also talked Lin Huiyin and Zhang Hepburn into accepting Tang Zhong as a resident in the villa.

Even though their dissatisfaction with Tang Zhong was palpable, that night’s meal was still predominantly spicy food. Lin Huiyin and Hepburn had never eaten much to begin with, and with fire smoldering in their bellies, they barely picked at their plates before retreating to their rooms.

Tang Zhong, however, found the feast of fish and meat thoroughly to his liking. He devoured the four large plates and three big bowls with gusto, leaving not even a morsel behind.

“Are you full?” Bai Su propped her chin on one hand, watching Tang Zhong put down his chopsticks.

“I’m stuffed,” Tang Zhong replied with satisfaction. This life wasn’t half bad—meals served at the table, clothes ready at hand, and several beauties as dinner companions. Even if their faces were clouded with displeasure, they were nevertheless lovely to behold.

“Would you like some fruit?” Bai Su asked.

“Do you have grapes?”

“Yes.” Bai Su nodded and called out to the maid clearing the table, “Wu-jie, when you’re done, wash some grapes and bring them over.”

“All right,” Wu-jie replied.

“I’ll sleep here tonight too,” Bai Su announced.

Tang Zhong grinned. “Afraid the two of them will team up to get rid of me?”

Bai Su nodded. “I’m also worried you’ll sneak around at night and play the part of a flower thief.”

“If I really had such intentions, what difference would it make if you stayed?” Tang Zhong countered. “Didn’t we already try today? You’re no match for me.”

“I can always shout for help,” Bai Su replied sweetly.

“What if I slip into your room instead?” Tang Zhong eyed her, his gaze suggestive.

“If not me, then who?” Bai Su replied with mock solemnity. “If I can save two young maidens from the clutches of a wolf, I’m willing to throw myself to the beast.”

She paused, then eyed Tang Zhong up and down with a playful glint. “Besides, you’re quite the sight yourself.”

Tang Zhong was defeated.

Years of diligent self-study in prison had elevated him to the status of an accomplished rogue. He’d thought he could swagger through the world, invincible and unmatched, but upon stepping into society, he was immediately bested by a woman who had been tempered by the world into a seasoned she-wolf.

Bai Su nibbled a few grapes with Tang Zhong, yawned, stretched, and said, “I’m exhausted. I wore myself out persuading you to join Butterfly—my tongue’s nearly worn thin. I’m going to shower and sleep. You should rest early too. Tomorrow, someone will come to give you a makeover. Oh, and you’ll sleep in the easternmost room on the first floor tonight. It used to be Tang Xin’s. Everything you need is there; no need for anyone to clean up—”

Tang Xin’s room?

A faint, charming smile played at Tang Zhong’s lips.

So this was her way of encouraging him to grow close to the sister he’d never truly met, to deepen his bond with her, perhaps to keep him from fleeing at the last moment.

After all, he hadn’t signed any kind of binding contract; if things didn’t suit him, he could bolt at any time.

“What an interesting woman,” Tang Zhong thought as he watched Bai Su, her supple waist and ample hips swaying as she climbed the stairs.

Sensing his gaze, Bai Su turned on the staircase, glancing back over her shoulder. Bathed in the glow of the crystal chandelier, she seemed cloaked in silver radiance, voluptuous and dazzling.

“Enchantress,” Tang Zhong muttered.

“Scoundrel,” Bai Su mouthed.

She made no sound, but Tang Zhong knew exactly what she’d said.

Tang Xin’s bedroom was spacious, at least forty or fifty square meters. Aside from a large white bed, the most eye-catching feature was a wall of bookshelves, packed not with fashion magazines but with weighty tomes—“Van Loon’s Classics,” “Records of the Grand Historian,” “The Wealth of Nations.” There were also many science fiction and mystery novels, evidence of her fondness for intellectually demanding books.

It didn’t feel like a starlet’s boudoir but rather the study of a writer.

In front of the bookshelves stood a white wooden desk with an Apple computer and several photos of a girl.

One was a group shot of the Butterfly ensemble; the rest were solo pictures of Tang Xin.

Tang Zhong picked up a framed photo. The girl inside wore a sky-blue high school uniform. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, her delicate face as radiant as dawn. Her eyes were large and curved, like crescent moons, and her lips were curved in a sweet smile. She must have been truly happy then.

Undeniably, she was a budding beauty. And since Tang Zhong and Tang Xin were twins, he too was rather “pretty.”

“Sister,” Tang Zhong murmured, gently brushing the girl’s face through the glass.

He gazed at the photograph, lost in thought for a moment, then set the frame down and opened a drawer in the desk. Right on top lay a diary adorned with a Frog Prince, locked tight and unreadable.

“Peeking at someone else’s diary is immoral,” Tang Zhong thought.

“But right now, I am Tang Xin. Reading my own diary has nothing to do with morality,” he reasoned.

So, with a chuckle, he smeared a layer of face cream over the diary’s combination lock, and soon enough, he picked out the three digits. With a soft click, the lock popped open.

Such a “password” was child’s play for him. After all, in Hengshan Prison there were inmates who had robbed banks.

This couldn’t be called a “diary”—it was more a collection of occasional entries. She only wrote when a mood struck or something worth remembering happened, not about daily trivia like “I ate a bowl of noodles with one egg, two pieces of beef, and a caterpillar.”

Earlier entries described small slices of life with a certain woman, peaceful and content.

“Mom says a girl should be raised with plenty, so she won’t be swayed by trivial gifts from boys. Every time I come home, she makes delicious food and buys me pretty clothes and jewelry. But I’m still a student—why do I need expensive jewelry?”

Then came anecdotes about entering Nanda, unrelated to romance but highlighting a few friends.

“Cherry blossoms are blooming behind the literature building. So beautiful. Su San said it’s a waste for two girls to see them alone. She made me wish with her that next year, when the blossoms bloom again, we’ll each bring our Prince Charming. Prince Charming? I guess I’m old enough for love now.”

“Su San had her ‘visitor’ today—she was in such pain she broke out in a cold sweat—just watching her made me ache. Being a woman isn’t easy.”

“That Economics boy came again, with flowers and a guitar. Is that really how you express love? I don’t know. Deep down, I dislike such showy declarations. An umbrella in the rain, a seat in the reading room, a glass of milk at an early class, an encouraging look when I’m down—those are what I want. Simple, but they warm you all over.”

At that time, Tang Xin was just a girl—beautiful, clever, happy, and sensitive. She longed for love but dreaded needless disturbance.

“I have a brother? A twin brother who looks just like me? I don’t know where he is, but I must find him.”

“I asked Mom, but she refuses to talk about my brother or Dad. What happened?”

“Training is exhausting. But I can persevere. I don’t like dancing, but I’ll stick with it—because Mom loves it.”

“New Year’s Eve, once my favorite holiday, is now the one I hate most. While others gather as families, it’s just me and Mom eating dumplings.”

“I found news about my brother. I’m so happy. I’m going to find him.”

Every word, every paragraph, every entry was about Tang Zhong. He filled half her diary, and the best years of her youth.

Unbeknownst to him, he had quietly altered the course of a young girl’s life.

“Is this Heaven’s trial for me? Or Heaven’s test? I told Su San I wasn’t afraid of death—only of leaving regrets behind. Now, I have so many unfulfilled wishes. I don’t want to die.”

“Aunt Bai told me of her idea to have my brother take my place. Though I feel there are many problems with it, part of me is hopeful. Butterfly belongs to all of us. I can’t let my absence break it up—it wouldn’t be fair to Huiyin and Benben. But will my brother agree?”

“Brother, welcome home. I’ve imagined countless times what I would wear, how I’d style my hair, what our first words would be when I finally saw you. But I never expected we’d pass by each other, unknowing.”

“Someone told me twins’ hearts are connected. When I’m sad, do you feel it too?”

“Brother, I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back, or if I ever will.”

“If I live, I’ll come see you. If I die, live for me.”

Drip—

Drip—

Drip—

Tears slid down his cheeks, falling onto the diary’s neatly written pages.

The drops soaked and spread on the paper, like the gradual corrosion of a man’s heart.

A man does not easily shed tears—unless truly moved.

(P.S. On the first day of release, over twenty thousand red votes, more than seven thousand collections, a millionaire sponsor, a bachelor, and sixteen lords—this is your blazing support for Old Liu.

Old Liu has nothing to give but five explosive chapters as thanks.

A new day, a new beginning. Almighty Ultramen, let us keep fighting!)