The warmth gathered. I sat across from Mr Bao who sat between Guo and Nan. In her fashionable ruby coat with a collar covered by fi ne down, Nan looked more than usually vigorous with her wavy dyed hair tied high into a blooming fl ower. Her face was ruddy with radiant sweetness. She recommended a special set menu with enough variety to satisfy our stomachs, and talkative Guo took the order. Ru seemed less distant than usual. In contrast, her appetite seemed good as she just added one more plate of the potatoes she liked the best. Curiously, Mr Bao, whose face was mostly shaded by that Dylan cap, behaved almost reservedly. He didn’t take any initiative to talk. All he did was cautiously respond to some of Guo’s inconsequential gossips. While doing so, his steady eyes glanced at us three women, very thoughtfully. It was as though he not only attempted to read our bodies but tried to penetrate our minds. Now, what was the Dylan cap for? Did the cap serve as his weapon or his shell?