Starlight Descends - 1
Orange Soda
“Love is an ever‑fixed beacon of light.”
/ Shakespeare’s Sonnets
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The airport was desolate in the small hours of the morning, with only the occasional traveler hurrying past, each person wrapped in their own sleepiness and fatigue.
Bleary-eyed and heavy with exhaustion, Qi Yao removed the soft U-shaped travel pillow from around her neck, took off her headphones, and slowly made her way down the corridor.
The wheels of her suitcase rattled and hummed over the tiled floor.
She was dressed inconspicuously and traveling alone, yet the young woman walking ahead kept glancing back, nudging her companion in the ribs with an elbow and whispering as though trying to confirm something.
Qi Yao pressed her lips together, tugged her black mask down beneath her eyes, and pulled her baseball cap low over her long hair.
She lit up her phone screen and switched off airplane mode. A flood of messages immediately came pouring in, each one fighting to be the first.
[Xiao Ye]: Jie, why did you leave already? Aren’t you coming to the wrap party?
[Yao‑jie]: Yao, you ran off the second filming wrapped. 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 right now!! I can’t survive without you T T
Qi Yao curved her lips into a smile and replied to each message, some politely, some teasingly.
Most of the messages were from Qiao Nian. Qi Yao barely bothered to look, but that woman seemed to have some kind of sixth sense for when her phone was active. Two minutes later, a call came through.
“Why did you have to run off so fast?” The other end was noisy, like she was still at the dinner party, 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 had somewhere else to be. Why were you in such a hurry to finish the night shoot and leave in the middle of the night?”
Qi Yao headed toward the exit and found the driver’s car.
“I had no time. Apologize to him for me.”
“Where did you go? Back to C City?”
Qiao Nian’s exasperation could be felt even across thousands of kilometers. Her soft voice had become hurried and clipped.
“You couldn't go back any other time? Why did it have to be now? That was Director Zhang. How much he values you, don't you have any idea? Who do you think Zhang Chengming is?!”
It was late autumn. Ginkgo leaves fell with the wind, scattered across the ground.
Qi Yao gave a quiet hum, bent down, and slipped into the car. “A major director.”
Qiao Nian sounded even more frantic. “Exactly! And you know that, yet you still…”
Qi Yao took off her cap and ran a hand through her hair, her expression unchanged. Her voice remained calm as she finished the thought for her.
“So?”
He was one of the most prominent directors in the country and wanted to have dinner with her. So what?
There was a strange, stunned silence on the other end of the phone for two full seconds.
Then Qiao Nian became 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 landed even one S-level leading role as the female lead?!”
“Qiao Nian.” Qi Yao lifted her eyes 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 turned her gaze toward the window.
The city nightscape was framed by the car window, rushing past in a blur.
Traffic lights flickered with lonely glimmers across the silent crosswalk.
Skyscrapers stood shoulder to shoulder, their countless windows glowing. Some deep in dreams. Others lay awake through the night.
The dim yellow streetlights filtered through the car window, fractured into shards of light that scattered across her face.
Her almond-shaped eyes were half-lowered, her nose delicate and straight.
After a long moment, she said quietly, “Today is September 16.”
Her voice was soft, dissolving almost weightlessly into the air, yet it seemed to carry the weight of a thousand pounds.
At the sound of her voice, the driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror.
Her expression was calm, her features relaxed. It was a completely ordinary expression, yet somehow there was an innate resilience in it, like a willow branch whipped and tossed by a violent storm that nevertheless remained clinging to its tree.
There was no response from the other end for a long while.
Qiao Nian remained silent for a long time before finally letting out a long sigh and hanging up.
Qi Yao sat quietly for a moment as well, slipped her phone back into her pocket, and closed her eyes for a short rest.
The night was still and lonely, the car silent.
The tires glided over the concrete road, the steady rocking lulling her thoughts farther and farther away.
She almost never brought this up to anyone.
Yet just now, for some reason, watching the traffic lights blur and shift beyond the window, she had inexplicably felt that perhaps this particular day would be different this year.
But how could it be different?
A trick of the mind, surely.
She let out the faintest breath and was just about to put on her eye mask when a tremendous noise suddenly erupted, throwing her body violently forward.
“Skreeeech!”
The driver wrenched the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding the right side of a sedan that had shot across their path. The wheels swerved hard, scraping against the road with a shriek that set her teeth on edge.
Qi Yao was thrown forward by the force of inertia. The seat belt caught her and pulled her back against the seat.
“Are you all right?”
Still shaken, the driver cursed under his breath, pulled the car to a stop, and turned around to make sure she was unharmed. When she shook her head, he breathed a sigh of relief and turned the key again.
The needle on the dashboard flickered uncertainly. The engine made a hollow sound, but the car simply would not start.
Qi Yao sat in the back seat and waited as the middle-aged man tried one method after another to restart the car, visibly flustered and anxious. Fine beads of sweat had already appeared on his forehead.
But for some unknown reason, the car had broken down and refused to start.
“What happened?”
“Looks like there’s something wrong with the wiring.” The man looked at her helplessly, apology and embarrassment written across his plain, honest face, along with a hint of regret. “But I don’t know exactly where the problem is. I’ll need some time to check it. Probably about half an hour.”
“If you need to get another car, I can charge you only half of the original fare for this trip.”
“It’s just…” The man hesitated, saying sheepishly after a moment, "Could you please not give me a bad review?”
Qi Yao raised her eyes and glanced at the battered phone mounted beside the navigation holder. Its wallpaper showed a family of three standing close together, smiling brightly.
The man’s shirt was worn thin at the shoulders, with visible signs of mending. His skin was darkened by the sun, and fine wrinkles crowded the corners of his eyes.
A very typical, ordinary person.
And yet, it was precisely such ordinary person who were the happiest and most content.
“It’s fine.”
They were only three or four kilometers from their destination. Half price seemed hardly fair to him.
Qi Yao put her mask and cap back on and pushed open the door. “It’s hard to get a car at this hour. I’ll wait for you.”
The man froze for two seconds, apparently never expecting her to be so easygoing. Then he nodded again and again in delight, hurriedly thanking her profusely.
“Thank you so much. Really, thank you."
Qi Yao had already walked more than ten steps away, yet the man was still bowing behind her, repeating his gratitude.
Not accustomed to receiving such direct, almost humble gratitude, she walked a little farther away.
Most of the journey had already passed. They had driven from the airport at the edge of the city into the newly developed district.
Since C City established this new administrative district, it was the first time Qi Yao had ever set foot here.
Under the dim yellow streetlights, she walked aimlessly, one step after another, turning her head as she took in this new heart of the city.
Towering buildings stretched in every direction, packed tightly together.
Office towers stood densely clustered, rising into the clouds. Their company signs were grand and conspicuous, including more than a few names belonging to Fortune Global 500 corporations.
The broad glass windows were spotless, yet even this late at night, scattered lights still shone from within. It wasn't hard to imagine the crowds during the morning rush, the packed elevators, and the crush of people at the subway entrances.
Qi Yao stopped beneath a streetlight and tilted her head back, gazing at the countless white lights above her. Her shadow stretched long across the pavement.
Perhaps the night was simply too quiet, or perhaps the silhouettes reflected in those floor-to-ceiling windows looked too desolate. Whatever the reason, as she watched, an unbidden thought suddenly surfaced.
...Could he be here too?
Would he still be working late into the night for his dreams, just as he used to, or had he become like the programmer who had just passed by, frowning beneath the weight of life as it slowly wore down all his sharp edges?
The world was utterly silent.
The wind swept past, stirring the dry fallen leaves into a soft rustling. A ginkgo leaf spiraled down and landed before her eyes.
Qi Yao suddenly came back to herself, pulling free from the astonishing pull of memories from years ago. After a moment, she tugged out a self-mocking smile.
It was late. Nights like this made it too easy to dream.
Turning back, she saw that the driver was still checking the engine. She pulled her cap more securely over her head and headed toward a twenty-four-hour convenience store by the roadside.
The girl behind the register was engrossed in a drama on her phone, her eyes glued to the screen as though she could not bear to look away. Without lifting her head, she recited a practised, “Welcome.”
Qi Yao wandered lazily through the store, circling around to the beverage shelves. Almost without thinking, she reached out on instinct and took a bottle of orange soda.
Just then, the automatic doors opened, and the girl’s practiced greeting rang out together with the sound of several sets of footsteps.
Three men came in, talking among themselves. The store was small to begin with, and their arrival seemed to make the air suddenly thinner.
“Fuck, it’s already two in the morning and we’re still working overtime. If we keep this up much longer, the company next door will probably be starting their workday before we’re done.”
The man who spoke was short and stocky. He pushed up his black-rimmed glasses, his face full of grievance, then turned toward the entrance and called out.
“Shu, can we actually expect good things working for you? You’ve worked your buddy half to death lately. I’ve lost so much weight, even my wife feels sorry for me whenever she touches me.”
“Oh, give me a break. You're welcome to leave if you can bear to give up triple your old salary.”
The young man beside him had a buzz-cut and delicate features, yet his temper was surprisingly fiery. He clicked his tongue and followed the shelves toward the back, complaining as he went.
“Your wife posted five times in a row on Moments celebrating your weight loss. She practically threw a banquet. Think we didn’t see?”
“...”
The man in black-rimmed glasses choked. “Can't I just joke?! Who would give up such a good boss?”
The last man to enter was tall and straight-backed, dressed in a 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. Every word reached Qi Yao’s ears, though she paid little attention.
She stood before the shelf, fingers tightening around the bottle as a thin layer of condensation dampened her fingertips. After hesitating for a moment, she put the orange soda she had picked up back where it belonged.
She stepped back half a pace, studied the shelves, then took a bottle of mineral water instead. Then she walked around the side closest to the counter to check out.
By now, the girl was no longer concentrating on her drama. Her phone lay flat on the counter, and she kept sneaking glances toward the refrigerated drinks section.
She was so distracted that even while scanning the item, she couldn't stop looking up. The scanner hovered in midair for nearly a full minute without successfully registering the purchase. Her face practically broadcast: There’s a handsome guy over there!
Qi Yao raised one eyebrow and said nothing.
When she lowered her eyes casually, she caught sight of an extraordinarily familiar face flickering across the girl’s phone screen.
...Her drama.
And from the look of it, an early access episode.
Well, then.
Whatever mild irritation Qi Yao had felt dissipated, her thoughts began wandered away.
Forgiven.
“Do you want WeChat or Alipay?”
“Wec...” Qi Yao reached into her pocket, only to find nothing.
Her hand stopped. The simple answer caught in her throat.
She had left her phone behind.
The girl finally looked at her and offered a friendly smile. “You can use facial recognition.”
“...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 spread into a delighted grin as she started to speak.
“You're...”
“Shh.”
Qi Yao quickly pressed a finger to her lips. A smile curved across her face, her almond-shaped eyes bending into a faint arc as the two exchanged a knowing look.
The register chimed to announce that the payment had gone through, and the receipt machine began spitting out a strip of paper.
Whether from excitement or embarrassment, the girl’s face immediately flushed red. Lowering her voice, she said, “I really, really like you!”
“I’ve watched every single one of your dramas. I’ve loved you ever since Midsummer.” The girl became increasingly flustered as she spoke, and by the end, emotion had made her voice catch in her throat.
Qi Yao was taken aback, watching the girl’s nose wrinkle and her eyes turn red.
A square name tag was pinned to the girl's uniform: Xiaotao, twenty years old.
Qi Yao paused, then fumbled through her bag for a tissue.
Xiaotao sniffed and, seeing that Qi Yao did not seem impatient, continued somewhat 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 male and female leads and was obsessed with their sweet relationship, but I thought you were the best actor in the entire drama.”
“I watched the final episode over and over again. I had a crush on a boy when I was in high school too, but nothing ever came of it. So I understood that feeling more than I can say.”
“In the finale, when you stood beneath the moonlight and looked at the male lead...”
Xiaotao clenched the corner of her uniform, her voice trembling with tears as she tried desperately 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 suddenly stopped, and the warmth of her smile slowly faded.
Without meaning to, she repeated the girl’s words silently in her heart.
...As though you had truly loved someone for many, many years.
An unnamed emotion came roaring toward her, sweeping through every one of her senses.
Confusion. Awkwardness. Wild, tangled thoughts. Feelings she could no longer hold back.
In an instant, it seemed to drag her back to that ordinary, yet deeply poignant, summer.
Xiaotao sniffed and seemed about to say something else. From somewhere in the distance came a jumble of footsteps, growing louder as they approached. Several figures shifted behind the shelves and began making their way toward the register.
Qi Yao turned slightly and stepped aside to let them pass.
The wall behind the register reflected a blurred image. Fragments of conversation drifted in and out of her ears, sometimes near, sometimes far.
"Boss treats you to oden and you're satisfied? Have some self‑respect!”
“Hey, it’s plenty. You’re already that fat, and you’re still eating so much.” The young man placed a bag of chicken legs on the counter, then called toward the back. “Ge, you should eat something too! Looks like we’re gonna pull an all‑nighter. You haven’t eaten properly all day.”
The man in 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 blurred reflection on the wall revealed the upper half of the man’s body.
Qi Yao heard him give a nonchalant, low laugh.
“That’s enough.”
The soft breath of his voice lingered in the air.
...That voice.
Qi Yao froze.
One step. Two steps. Three.
The measured footsteps came to a stop.
A clear, familiar voice sounded behind her, neither close nor far.
“Check out, please. Thank you.”
His voice was low, roughened slightly by a night without sleep, yet it whipped through the space around her like a sudden storm.
His voice was clear and cool, every word distinct, like pure moonlight falling across the ground after rain, like a mountain spring murmuring its way downstream.
It was the gentle evening breeze of a summer night, warm as it seeped into every limb, softening even the rhythm of her heartbeat.
A voice so familiar, she’d heard it a thousand times in dreams.
Qi Yao blinked uncertainly, standing rigidly where she was.
Her heart seemed to stop for two seconds, then rise high into her throat before crashing back down and racing wildly.
Once. Twice. Faster and faster, as though it might break straight through her chest.
...Was it him?
She could barely breathe. The pounding of her heart was deafening.
Under the cover of her cap, she slowly lifted her eyes.
The man had his gaze lowered. A few loose strands of hair fell over his forehead, smooth and full. His profile was clean and refined, his jawline sharp.
He wore a long-sleeved white shirt with black trousers, neat yet effortless. One cuff was unbuttoned, revealing a slim stretch of forearm beneath, the lines of muscle clean and defined.
His distinct knuckles rested loosely around a cup of coffee. As he moved, a tiny, pale mole appeared near the base of his middle finger, close to his index finger.
It was him.
Who else could make such simple clothes look so effortlessly elegant and expensive, just as he once had in that blue-and-white school uniform?
There was a trace of fatigue in his expression. His dark lashes lowered, and he gave a polite nod before turning away, revealing the pale nape of his neck.
His shoulder blades shifted beneath the perfectly tailored white shirt, lifting the fabric into a beautiful curve.
A thousand thoughts raced chaotically through her mind.
She had been silent for so long that even Xiaotao looked puzzled.
A person she had loved for many, many years.
Qi Yao repeated the words silently to herself.
She looked up at that tall, straight back, and suddenly, a surge of courage and impulse she didn’t know she had filled her chest.
Qi Yao stood where she was, opened her mouth, and called his name softly, one word at a time.
“...Yu Jiashu.”
It was barely a whisper, so soft it almost dissolved into nothing.
The two men in front were still bickering playfully, their laughter and shouts drowning her out many times over. The automatic doors chimed and slowly opened. A little toy hanging beside the entrance began mechanically announcing its thanks for the purchase.
In all that noise, he might 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.
But why, then, did it hurt so much today?
At the same time, the man’s footsteps suddenly stopped.
The man in black-rimmed glasses and the buzz-cut guy had already pushed and jostled their way out of the convenience store, laughing and cursing as their voices drowned out everything else. One of them turned back and asked what he was doing.
Yu Jiashu stood tall before the glass doors, a cup of iced Americano in his hand. Under the bright fluorescent lights, the faint movement between his brows betrayed a trace of confusion.
Two seconds later.
He lifted his eyes. The crease of his double eyelids was long and deep, his smooth jaw tightening as his Adam’s apple moved once.
And he turned back.
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