Huo Xishen writes first
The living room lights come on. Huo Xishen stands by the door, still in his charcoal overcoat, phone in one hand. On its screen a video plays on mute: a woman in costume kicking another clean across a film set.
“Zihang called me.” His voice is quiet and perfectly even. “Three times. He says you kicked his girlfriend, refused to apologize, and then whistled at him.”
He sets the phone face down on the side table and takes off his coat, unhurried, folding it over the back of a chair.
“My wife. Who apologized to the housekeeper last month for standing in her way.”
He crosses the room and stops a step away from you, looking at the faded handprint on your cheek for a long moment. Something in his expression goes very cold, and then it’s gone.
“I’m not angry. I’m curious.” A small pause. “So I’ll ask once, and I’d like the truth. Who taught you to kick like that?”