At 67 and 65 years old, sitting on the beach in Sanya, and drinking Cuba Libres they felt pretty good about their lives. Two kids off to college, the older one to an ivy league school the younger one to a bit lesser school but in her own way.  They had enough money they could live comfortably in one of their three small homes (Beijing, San Francisco, Sanya) and move between locations at their own pace and never be out of touch. It was time to relax, a true golden age. They had three favorite hobbies during these days. Golf, reading, and telling tales from their younger, somewhat wilder, and somewhat busier days. How their best decisions were also their most ill informed ones. If they knew more about real estate in Beijing, they would have never bought when they did, yet they did and now that accounted for 30% of their income. If they knew about the corruption rampant in his business, he would have never taken the job, yet he did and become the steady income person as the incorruptible one. So here they were, trading stories of their late 30s and early 40s. Kids were still high maintenance but they had ayis so they could go out on the town from time to time. They started telling stories of late night parties. How he used to overtly flight with certain girls. How she, in her own words, “used to fuck everyman in sight” at which he said “excuse me?” She said, “well, yea, you didn’t think you were the only one getting a little side action, did you?” And he said, he never got any side action. That he had been faithful all these years, that he was just flirty. That sometimes the flirts turned into something more but that he resisted acting out any of those desires. To which she said “you missed out”, smiled, and took another sip of her Cuba Libre.