Starlight Descends - 1

Orange Soda

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“Love is an ever‑fixed beacon of light.”

/ Shakespeare’s Sonnets

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The airport in the early morning hours was desolate. A few travellers passed through, each one moved with hurried steps.

Eyes still gummed with sleep, bodies laden with fatigue. 

Qi Yao slipped off her soft U‑shaped neck pillow, pulled out her earbuds, slowly making her way down the corridor.

The wheels of her suitcase rumbled over the tiled floor.

She was dressed inconspicuously, alone, but the girl ahead kept glancing back, nudging her companion, whispering as if confirming something.

Qi Yao pressed her lips together, pulled the black face mask up to her eyes, and tugged the baseball cap down over her long hair.

She tapped her phone screen awake. As soon as she turned off airplane mode, messages came flooding in.

[Xiao Ye]: Sis, you just left like that? Not coming to the wrap party?

[Yao‑jie]: Yao, running off the second filming wraps? Kind of cold, don’t you think?

[Group Chat]: @1, The world's most, most, most, most, most kind and beautiful Qi Yao, please come back!! I can't handle this without you T T

Qi Yao's lips curved, she replied to each one, some politely, some teasingly.

Most of the messages were from Qiao Nian. Qi Yao barely glanced at them, but as if she had a sixth sense for her phone‑signal, she called just two minutes later.

“Why’d you run off like that?” The background noise was chaotic, likely a dinner banquet. Qiao Nian's voice was hushed.

“Director Zhang specifically said yesterday he’d looked forward to having a meal with you. It's not like you have anything else going on. Must you rush through the shoot and leave in the middle of the night?"

Qi Yao headed toward the exit and found the driver's car. "No time. Just apologize for me over there."

“Where’d you go? Back to C City?”

Even from thousands of kilometres away, Qiao Nian’s exasperation was palpable, her hushed voice tripping over each other.

“You could’ve gone any other time. Why now? That’s Director Zhang. How much he values you, don't you have any idea? Who is Zhang Chengming?!"

It was late autumn. Ginkgo leaves fell with the wind, scattered across the ground.

Qi Yao gave a noncommittal "Mm," bent down, and got into the car. 

"A big director."

The voice on the other end grew frantic. “Exactly! So—”

Qi Yao took off her cap, ran a hand through her hair, her expression unchanged. She finished calmly, "...So what?"

A top-tier director in the industry wanted to have a meal with her. So what?

A strange, stunned silence hung for two seconds.

Then the voice on the other line grew even more agitated.

“Qi Yao, I don’t get you. You’re an actress. Actually be an actress, would you? How can you have so little ambition? Someone in this industry appreciates you, and you’re still not satisfied? How many years has it been since your first drama? Have you ever landed a single S-tier, first-billed female lead role?!"

"Qiao Nian." Qi Yao lifted her eyelids and spoke softly.

Her voice was light, without much emotion, drifting gently through the air, yet somehow it silenced the woman on the other end.

She gazed out the window.

The city nightscape was framed within the car window, rushing past in a blur.

Traffic lights blinked their lonely glow over the empty crosswalks.

Skyscrapers rose high, each window holding its own story. Some deep in dreams, others sleepless.

The dim yellow streetlights filtered through the car window, fractured into shards of light that fell across her face.

Her peach blossom eyes were half closed, the tip of her nose delicate and straight.

After a long moment, she said quietly, "Today is September sixteenth.”

Her voice was so light it seemed to dissolve into the dust, yet it carried a weight that was almost unbearable.

The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

Her face was calm, her features relaxed. An ordinary expression, yet it held a natural, innate resilience. Like a willow branch whipped about in a storm, holding fast to its branch.

For a long time, the phone was silent.

At last Qiao Nian let out a long slow sigh, and hung up.

Qi Yao was still for a moment. Then she tucked her phone back into her pocket, and closed her eyes to rest.

The night was quiet, the car hushed.

Tyres rolled over concrete, providing a steady, lulling vibration as her thoughts slowly drifted.

She almost never brought this up to anyone.

Just now, for some reason, watching the traffic lights blur and change outside the window, she’d felt, inexplicably, that this year, this day, might be different.

But why would it be different?

A trick of the mind, surely.

Exhaling softly, she was about to put on her sleep mask when a sudden roar of noise erupted, her body lurched forward violently.

"Screech—!"

The driver wrenched the steering wheel. The car swerved, narrowly avoiding the right door of a sedan that had come tearing out of nowhere. The tyres sharply turned, screeching against the pavement.

Qi Yao was thrown forward by the momentum, then snapped back against her seat by the seatbelt.

“Are you all right?”

The driver, pale with shock, cursed under his breath. He pulled over and turned to check on her. Receiving a shake of her head, he sighed in relief, igniting the key again.

The needle on the dashboard wavered, the engine sputtered, but it wouldn't catch.

Qi Yao waited in the back seat, watching the middle-aged man try every method he knew with increasing fluster and anxiety. A fine sweat broke out on his forehead.

The car just refused to start.

“What’s wrong?”

“It must be a wiring problem.” The man looked at her apologetically, his weathered face creased with regret and helplessness.“Hard to tell exactly where. Gonna take some time to check it out. Maybe half an hour.”

“If you want to hail another car, I’ll only charge you half the fare.”

“It’s just…” The man hesitated, saying sheepishly after a moment, "Could you please not give me a bad rating?”

Qi Yao lifted her gaze, sweeping over the old phone on the navigation mount. The wallpaper showed a family of three, all huddled together, laughing with joy.

The man's shirt was worn at the shoulder, neatly mended. His skin leathery from the sun, wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes.

A very typical, ordinary person.

And yet, it was precisely such ordinary people who were the happiest and most content. 

“It’s fine.”

They were only three or four kilometres from her destination. Half price seemed hardly fair to him.

Qi Yao pulled her mask and cap back on and opened the door. “It’s hard to get a cab this late. I’ll wait.”

The man paused for two seconds, as if not expecting her easy-going response. He nodded quickly, stammering his thanks.

“Thank you so much. Really, thank you."

Qi Yao had walked more than ten steps away, but the man was still bowing behind her, repeating his gratitude.

Unaccustomed to receiving such a direct, almost deferential act, she moved further away.

The ride had been almost over anyway. They had driven from the airport on the city's edge to the new district.

This was Qi Yao’s first time setting foot here since C City established this new administrative zone.

She walked aimlessly under the dim streetlights, turning her head to take in the new heart of the city.

Skyscrapers rose in dense clusters, piercing the clouds.

Corporate signs displayed prominently, grand and eye-catching; some belonging to well known Fortune 500 companies.

Floor‑to‑ceiling windows gleamed, sporadic lights still burning deep into the night. It wasn’t hard to imagine the bustling crowds during the rush‑hour, the packed subways and elevators.

Qi Yao stopped under a streetlight, gazing up at the many bright-lit windows, her shadow stretching long behind her.

Perhaps it was the stillness of the night, or perhaps it was the lonely figures reflected in the glass windows, but as she gazed, an unbidden thought surfaced in her.

…Would he be here too?

Would he, like before, be working late into the night for his ideals? Or would he be like that programmer who passed by just now, frowning and worn down by life?

The world was silent.

Wind stirred the dry leaves, setting them rustling. A ginkgo leaf spiraled down, landing right before her eyes.

Qi Yao snapped back to reality, pulling herself free of the old memories’ surprising gravity. After a moment, she gave a faint, self‑mocking smile.

Late nights were prone to dreaming.

Turning back, the man was still tinkering with the engine in the distance. She tugged her cap lower and walked toward the 24‑hour convenience store by the roadside.

The girl at the register was glued to her phone, watching a drama. Her eyes didn’t leave the screen as she recited a practised “Welcome.”

Qi Yao wandered to the drink shelves. Almost without thinking, her hand reached out and grabbed a bottle of orange soda.

Just then, the convenience store's automatic door slid open; the clerk’s automated greeting mingled with the scuff of multiple footsteps entering.

Three men walked in while chatting. The store wasn't big to begin with, and the air seemed to thin all of a sudden.

“Damn, it’s two in the morning and we’re still working overtime. Keep this up and the company next door’ll be clocking in before we leave.”

The one who spoke was short and stout, adjusting his black‑rimmed glasses, his expression aggrieved, shouting toward the door.“Shu, can we actually expect good things working for you? I’ve wasted away these past months. Even my wife feels sorry for me when she pats my gut.”

“Bullshit. You're welcome to leave if you can bear to give up triple your old salary.” 

The guy next to him, with a buzz cut and delicate features but an unexpectedly sharp tongue, tsked and walked further down the aisle.“Your wife posted five times in a row on Moments celebrating your weight loss. She practically threw a banquet. Think we didn’t see?”

Black-rimmed Glasses choked. “Can't I just joke?! Who would give up such a good boss?”

The last one to enter was tall and straight-backed, dressed in white shirt and black trousers. He gave a low laugh but didn’t speak, his body half‑obscured by the stacked shelves.

In the small enclosed space, their conversation was inescapable, drifting straight into Qi Yao's ears, though she wasn’t really listening.

She stood before the shelf, fingers tightening around the bottle, dampened by condensation. After a moment's hesitation, she still put the orange soda back.

Then she stepped back, scanned the shelf, and took a bottle of mineral water instead. She walked around the side closest to the counter to check out.

The girl was no longer absorbed in her drama, phone lay face‑up on the counter, her gaze kept straying to the frozen drinks section.

She scanned the barcode absent‑mindedly, the scanner hovering for nearly a minute without success. Her face practically broadcast: There’s a handsome guy! 

Qi Yao raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Glancing down, she noticed the girl's phone screen showing a face she knew all too well.

….Her drama.

And from the look of it, an early access episode.

Well, then.

Whatever mild irritation Qi Yao had felt dissipated, her thoughts wandered away. 

Forgiven.

“WeChat Pay or Alipay?”

“WeCh…” Qi Yao reached for her pocket, only to meet empty fabric.

She froze, the simple word caught in her throat.

She hadn't brought her phone.

The girl finally looked at her, offering a kind smile. “You can use face scan."

“…Okay.”

The moment Qi Yao pulled down her mask, the girl’s wandering gaze snapped into focus. Her mouth formed a silent O, eyes going wide with disbelief. Then her lips split into a delighted grin.

“You’re—”

“Shh.”

Qi Yao quickly pressed a finger to her lips and curved them into a smile. Her peach blossom eyes crinkled faintly as unspoken understanding passed between them.

The register beeped with a payment confirmation, whirring as it printed a receipt. 

Whether from excitement or shyness, the girl's face turned red on the spot. She lowered her voice. "I like you so, so much."

"I've watched every single one of your dramas. I’ve loved you since Midsummer.” The girl said excitedly, at this point, her voice cracked with emotion, her eyes welling up.

Qi Yao was taken aback, watching the girl's nose wrinkle and eyes redden.

A square name tag was pinned to the girl's uniform: Xiao Tao, twenty years old.

Q Yao paused, then fumbled through her bag for a tissue.

Xiao Tao sniffled. Seeing that Qi Yao didn’t seem annoyed, she continued a little sheepishly. "I was in high school then. Every week I'd go home and sit at my desk just waiting for the next episode to drop. Everyone loved the leads, shipped the cute couple, but I thought you were the one who acted the best."

“I rewatched the finale so many times. Because I had a crush on a boy in high school too. It never went anywhere. So I can relate to it deeply."

“That last scene, the way you looked at the male lead under the moonlight—”Xiao Tao clutched the hem of her work uniform, her voice thick with tears, she tried hard to force a smile. "I'm not very educated, I can't think of fancy words. But in that moment, I felt like…you had truly loved someone for many, many years."

Qi Yao's movements abruptly stilled, the warm, soft smile slowly fading from her lips.

That phrase echoed, unbidden, inside her.

…truly loved someone for many, many years.

A nameless emotion came roaring in, overwhelming all her senses.

Panic, rawness, memories and feelings she’d held at bay.

As if she'd been pulled right back into that ordinary, yet deeply poignant, summer.

Xiao Tao was about to say more when approaching footsteps sounded in the distance. Figures shifted behind the shelves, heading toward the register.

Qi Yao turned slightly, stepping to the side to make room.

The wall behind the counter reflected a blurry image as fragments of conversation drifted past.

"Boss treats you to oden and you're satisfied? Have some self‑respect!”

“Hey, it’s plenty. You're that fat already, and still eating so much.” The buzz‑cut guy set a bag of chicken legs on the counter and called back. “Bro, you should have something too. We’re probably gonna pull an all‑nighter, you haven’t eaten anything since this morning.”

Black-rimmed Glasses stood by the door. "I see it now. You like the boss more than the receptionist and all the women in the company put together."

The blurry reflection showed the man’s upper body.

Qi Yao heard him give a nonchalant, low laugh. 

"Enough already."

The light breathy sound hung in the air.

That voice… 

Qi Yao froze completely.

One step, two steps, three steps.

Then, it stopped.

A crisp baritone sounded from just behind her, neither too close nor too far.

“Checkout, please.”

His voice was low, rough from the late hour, yet it whipped through the space around her like a sudden storm.

His tone was crisp and articulate, like moonlight falling on rain soaked ground, like a mountain spring flowing gently over stones.

The warm summer night breeze seemed to seep into her bones, softening even the beat of her heart.

A voice so familiar, she’d heard it a thousand times in dreams.

Qi Yao blinked slowly, her body frozen in place.

Her heart stopped for two full seconds, then soared high before plummeting down, pounding wildly.

Thump, thump, faster and faster, each beat threatening to break through her chest.

…Is that him?

She could barely breathe. The sound of her heartbeat was deafening.

Under the cover of her cap, she slowly lifted her gaze.

The man had his eyes lowered, a few strands of hair falling across his forehead. His brow was full, his profile clean and handsome, his jawline sharp.

He wore a long sleeved white shirt neatly yet casually, one button at the cuff was undone, revealing a slender wrist and lean muscle.

His long, well defined fingers rested loosely on a coffee cup. As he moved, she caught a glimpse of a small, pale mole on the side of his middle finger near the knuckle.

Yes.

Who else could make a simple shirt look so refined and handsome, the way he’d worn that blue‑and‑white school uniform back then?

The man looked somewhat tired, his dark eyelashes lowered. As he politely nodded and turned, the pale nape of his neck came into view.

His shoulder blades shifted beneath the well tailored white shirt, forming a beautiful curve.

Countless thoughts tangled and raced through her mind.

Perhaps she had been silent for too long, even Xiao Tao looked puzzled.

Someone loved for many, many years.

Qi Yao repeated silently in her heart.

She looked up at that tall, straight-backed figure, and suddenly, a surge of courage and impulse she didn’t know she had filled her chest.

Standing there, Qi Yao opened her mouth. Word by word, she called out softly.

"…Yu Jiashu."

It was barely a whisper, so soft it almost dissolved into nothing.

The two men ahead were bickering playfully, their laughter and shouts drowning her out many times over. The automatic door beeped and slid open slowly. A little toy hanging at the entrance recited a mechanical "Thank you for your patronage."

In all that noise, he could have heard anything, except her faint call.

Qi Yao lowered her eyes and tugged at the corner of her mouth. Her fingers tightened around the bottle. The glass, chilled from the freezer, sent a coldness straight to her heart, shattering the courage she’d just barely gathered.

She should be used to this by now.

So why did it hurt so much today?

Meanwhile, the man’s stride faltered.

Black-rimmed Glasses and the Buzz Cut guy were already jostling their way out the convenience store door, laughing and cursing, their voices covering all others, turning back to ask him what he was doing.

Yu Jiashu stood in the doorway, a cup of iced Americano in hand. The bright fluorescent light caught the slight furrow of his brow, a hint of confusion in his eyes.

Two seconds later, he lifted his eyes. The fold of his double eyelids was long and deep. His smooth jawline tightened, Adam's apple bobbed. 

He turned to look back.

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