Eighty-nine

He had no time to say goodbye to his parents and rushed off at once. The cemetery was so silent it seemed devoid of life; only the clatter of her high heels broke the stillness, and with each clear step her own heart began to pound tighter and tighter. The dark gate loomed ahead. Zhang Momo had only just turned the corner when a searing pain exploded at the back of her head, a deafening roar rang in her ears, and then she knew no more.

Tower A of Shenglian Building, 28th Floor; Chairman’s Office.

A single-person office was cold and deserted to begin with; now it was so quiet that even the sound of turning pages or dialing a phone could not be heard. Xiang Zuo sat behind his desk, his gaze fixed on the engagement invitation he held in his hand. Someone had actually designed the invitation with a deep patterned lake-blue background. There was no need to say it: this was surely her own handiwork. Yet this was not at all her taste.

With a sharp slap, the folded card was thrown onto the desk. Whose taste that lake-blue color reflected was self-evident. Slowly, as though countless times before, the discarded invitation was picked up again. He propped his chin on one hand and studied it with forced patience. What was all this talk of a cordial banquet and a respectful invitation to the whole household? What whole household? His wife was the very heroine of that engagement feast. Did they expect him to wait until the end and then snatch her back home?

Another sharp slap, and the abused invitation was once more sent flying onto the desk. At that moment, the phone beside him rang at the most ill-timed moment.

“Mr. Xiang, have you seen Momo?” Dong Fei’s voice was thick with tears, almost breaking with panic. “She asked me to pick out nail polish with her this afternoon, but I’ve been waiting nearly an hour and she still hasn’t shown up. I called her, but she won’t answer...”

Xiang Zuo’s heart dropped with a thud. Without a second thought, he grabbed his car keys and headed for the door. “Where is Song Jiakai?”

“I already called him. They’re not together.”

“Damn it!” Xiang Zuo cursed under his breath and hung up. But his steps toward the door stopped dead. He could not afford to panic.

Holding the phone in his hand, he stood in the middle of the room for a long time, desperately trying to sift through everyone Zhang Momo knew, but his mind would not obey him. Again and again, only one person came to him, one figure, and no matter what he did he could think of no one else.

She had said her safety was none of his concern and sent the people he had assigned back. But even so, how could he really have yielded to her caprice and withdrawn them? He knew full well that the man named Hu had not yet been arrested. She was foolish and headstrong; he should have been the calm one. How had he let her closeness with that Song fellow blind him? Xiang Zuo, you are truly... hopelessly stupid. Even if she really had become Mrs. Song, even if she was already Mrs. Song, even if a whole brood of Song children were calling her mother, would you really be able to stand by and do nothing? Fool. Such a simple question, and only now had he realized it.

His mind was in utter chaos, and he could no longer remain in the office. He opened the door too fast and too wide, and his foot, impatient to move, stepped onto the half-open door panel; in that instant he nearly pitched straight forward into the narrow gap of the doorway.