Starlight Descends - 19

Bubbles

---

The year they graduated, everyone migrated en masse from their flashy Penguin app over to WeChat. Sharing your QR code or username in the group chat became some kind of rite of passage into adulthood.

Yu Jiashu didn't share his.

But, strangely, almost everyone seemed to know his WeChat ID anyway. His contact was passed around, forwarded and shared, spreading by word of mouth.

That's just how people are, always leaving themselves a back door. Even if you barely knew each other, even if you'd never talk again, you still wanted to hold onto a contact, just in case.

Especially when the person in question was plastered on the honor roll and fielding phone calls from every top university in the country.

His entire summer break was an endless stream of friend requests. When he had time, he'd approve some in passing, never asking anyone for a name, never necessarily replying to messages.

When he was busy, the requests would pile up into a long, pitiful string. Those poor red notification badges would be dismissed with a perfunctory tap, leaving a whole group of requests to slowly expire into the void.

Qi Yao likely slipped in somewhere around then.

Her class president had once been on a competition team with Yu Jiashu, "fortunate" enough to become the only person in the entire class who had his contact. He was hounded daily by girls wheedling and pleading, badgered to the point of exhaustion. In the end, out of sheer desperation, he simply posted the ID in the class group chat to end his misery.

When Qi Yao sent the request, she’d been so cautious. Even after seeing the automated notification that it had been accepted, she hesitated, not knowing how to start. Part of her desperately hoped Yu Jiashu would start the conversation; another part was terrified that he actually might.

They were far too much of a stranger. Nowhere near the point where they could just casually banter on each other's Moments.

But all that worry had been for nothing.

Yu Jiashu didn't send a single word. It was as if she was just some stranger he'd approved while waiting at a red light during his post-graduation trip abroad. No need to chat. No need to even know a name.

Her fragile hope slowly fizzled. All those meticulously rehearsed self-introductions flickered out like sparks swallowed by the sea, extinguished without a sound. 

He didn't even have Moments enabled. Every time Qi Yao tapped on his profile, all she ever saw was a solid, gray line.

Later, at a class reunion, the other girls talked about it, confirming with each other, and discovered that he truly never posted anything.

Qi Yao had sat there in silence, a quiet relief washing through her, followed immediately by a stab of self-mockery.

Of course, she didn't have that kind of privilege, the privilege of Yu Jiashu setting a specific privacy restriction just for her.

Even later, everyone who'd once walked the same paths went their separate ways, scattered north and south. She never saw him again.

And she just kept looking at that gray, unbroken line, year after year.

It was like the chasm that lay between them, deep and wide, a gulf between two different worlds, impossible to cross.

Until now.

Yu Jiashu had somehow found her in the vast ocean of his contacts and sent the first message in all the years they'd been "friends.”

No forced small talk. No pretending not to know. Not even any overt surprise. He just picked up the thread of their last conversation, and casually asked her for a completely ordinary, worthless signed photo.

As if he had stepped across the chasm she'd believed could never be filled, leaning toward her.

Qi Yao's hands were trembling ever so slightly. The bright red hot pot broth she had so eagerly anticipated was bubbling and roiling, but its scent was no longer so enticing, only the rising steam stung her eyes.

"...What's wrong?"

Ye Qingman's chopsticks hovered over a piece of tofu. Her eyes widened, and she asked with cautious concern. "Are you okay?"

Lai Fu was going crazy, rearing up on its hind legs, its black nose twitching madly as it tried to get its muzzle onto the table. Ye Qingman shooed it away, then tried again, tentatively.

"Did a gossip account spread some rumor? Are people dragging you on the hot search?"

"I'm fine."

Qi Yao pulled her gaze from the screen. She turned her phone face down on the table and picked up her chopsticks, fishing out the nearly overcooked beef belly roll. "Let's eat first."

After the meal, they played Ring Fit Adventure to work off the food. They'd gotten all geared up with enthusiasm, but barely two levels in, they were both sprawled on the yoga mat, each absorbed on their own phone.

For Ye Qingman, this was nothing unusual. She never stuck with anything for long, always starting strong before quickly losing interest. Every time she had to slim down for a role, she would flood social media with hundreds of angry posts.

"The weight requirements for period dramas are genuinely insane."she lamented, lying on the floor with her head resting against the couch as she scrolled through Weibo. Then she tilted her head slightly. "Wait. Why have you given up too?"

Qi Yao was propped on her elbow against the sofa cushion, staring at the message on her screen, distracted. "Ate too much."

"Let me guess." Ye Qingman cut her a sideways glance. "That 'S' wouldn't happen to be your White Moonlight, would it?"

Qi Yao: "..."

"Is it that obvious?"

Ye Qingman scoffed, just short of rolling her eyes. "What do you think? Even if I hadn't figured it out then, your reaction right now confirmed it."

"It's not that." Qi Yao sat up, thinking hard. "I just can't figure out how he'd know this account is mine."

"I've never messaged him, never posted anything on my Moments. There's zero identifying information on that account. How could he possibly know it's me?"

"So you think something must have happened, something that made him realize?" Ye Qingman saw the logic and started puzzling it through. "Have you given your contact to anyone recently? In your personal life, or at work?"

Qi Yao sat on the floor, frowning in thought. Nothing in her personal life. At work…

Qiao Nian had just called her, said that one of the new artists had run into a problem, and the team was swamped, so the Fengxing project lead would be contacting her directly from now on. 

***

The hallway was quiet. The heavy black security door opened and closed behind her. The soft click awakened the motion-sensor lights, and white light spilled across the marble-veined floor, illuminating a slender figure. Qi Yao curled her fingers around the photograph in her hand. Holding it tightly, she crossed to the door opposite and knocked.

The draft in the stairwell was fierce, tunneling upward and lashing through the hallway. It whipped at her hem and bit at her collar, the chill burrowing straight into her skin. Qi Yao couldn't help but shrink her neck down into her shoulders.

From the other side of the wall came the sound of approaching footsteps, light and unhurried, a lazy saunter. Then the soft, precise sound of a lock cylinder turning.

A sharp click, and the door swung open.

He was clearly at home, dressed with casual ease in a black hooded sweatshirt and grey lounge pants. The breadth of his shoulders filled out the seams, and he was so tall he seemed to cast shadow over her.

He looked... safe.

Qi Yao's gaze swept over the thin, soft fleece lining of his hoodie.

And warm, too.

"Thought I'd be waiting a lot longer,” Yu Jiashu raised an eyebrow at her, then stepped back to open the door wider.

An invitation for her to come inside. 

Qi Yao pressed her lips together, gathered her jacket around herself, and stepped inside, escaping the wind.

Before he closed the door, the man lifted his eyes and cast a glance at the apartment across the hall. 

His face had no particular expression. His look was neutral. But his dark eyes were so sharp and piercing that the person spying through the crack in the door felt her heart jolt.

Ye Qingman shivered. "..."

What was with that look?!

Why was he looking at her like she was some kind of third party, secretly peeping at them?!

***

After the first time comes the second, Qi Yao let herself settle onto the living room sofa. Her eyes fell on the electronic equipment scattered in the corner, and suddenly remembered. "Zhou Qi's camera. I forgot to return it."

"No rush," Yu Jiashu said, pouring a glass of water. "It's not like he needs it for class."

Qi Yao made a soft "oh." She watched him walk over, and her fingers tightened, unconsciously, again and again.

Sending that anonymous letter back then hadn't been anything like this, a face-to-face confrontation. Giving your signed photo to the person you'd once liked was a thousand times more nerve-wracking than writing a secret love letter.

Even if he was the one to ask for it.

Yu Jiashu looked up, an idle laugh escaping him. "Were you planning on just handing me a crumpled-up ball of paper?"

"Hm?"

His gaze flicked to her hand. "A special limited edition for old classmates?"

"..."

Only then did Qi Yao realize what she was doing. Her ears flushed hot, she handed the photo to him.

Yu Jiashu leaned back against the sofa, his long legs braced, his posture as casual as ever. He showed absolutely no self-consciousness about having a guest. He held the thin photograph between his fingers, his chin slightly lifted as he studied it, radiating the full, indolent energy of a pampered young master.

It suddenly struck Qi Yao that he only seemed to be that cool, sharp-edged, formidable person when he was working. At home, he let that old, unruly, untamed side show through. Just like the boy who joked around and never missed a chance to needle you back then. 

That youthful spark, it seemed, had never really left him.

A sudden, aching bitterness welled up inside her chest. Who would've thought, she too, could see this other side of him.

Fizzy, bitter-sweet bubbles rise one after another inside her.

Yu Jiashu looked down at the photo. A magazine shoot, perfect styling, flawless composition. The golden ink of her signature glinted in the upper right corner, very beautiful.

"Oh, right. Did the interview results come out?" Qi Yao asked.

Yu Jiashu's fingertip seemed to brush, almost inadvertently, against the corner of the eye of the woman in the picture. Ultimately, he said nothing. He laid the photo face down and looked back at her, the ghost of a teasing smile on his face. "How would I know? I'm just an intern at Fengxing."

Qi Yao was speechless. "Last time, you said you were taking classes."

"Did I?" Yu Jiashu tilted his head, seeming unconcerned. "Then I'm taking classes and doing an internship."

"..."

Teasing her again!

Qi Yao clenched her jaw, biting the soft inside of her cheek. "Stop pretending!"

"Whoa. What's this? Not buying it today?" Yu Jiashu put on a theatrical look of surprise. "Last time, you believed me completely. Did the hot pot make you smarter?"

"..."

He's even mocking me about the hot pot! 

Qi Yao was so riled by his teasing she couldn't get any words out. A surge of pure frustration shot to her head, she pounded a fist against the sofa cushion, shouting his name, syllable by syllable.

"...Yu! Jia! Shu!"

"Here."

And the absolute nerve of him, he actually answered it! 

His words dragged out long, tinged with laughter, vibrating softly in the air.

"The results are out," he said, taking mercy on her as he watched her ears turn red. A smirk still clung to the corner of his lips. "Two people advance from each group. There are also three spots for a direct pass to the final interview. Guess which one you are."

A direct pass to the final interview meant bypassing the most competitive stage of the process: the second-round interviews. The privilege was typically reserved for only the highest-rated candidates, awarded by a vote of the interview panel. If no one met their standards, they would rather leave the spot vacant than give it to someone who didn't deserve it.

Two candidates advanced from each group, leaving roughly twenty-some applicants in the second round. From there, those who made it through, together with the three candidates who had received direct passes, would form a final pool of seven or eight people to be interviewed by the company's senior management.

Qi Yao was quiet for a moment. "I'd go through the second round."

The vast living room fell silent.

It wasn't a lack of confidence, nor was she being modest. It was simply that, when it came to certain things, luck had never seemed to favor her.

Back when she took the college entrance exams, she'd worked hard and gone in determined to do well. Then, during the final paper, she was struck by such severe stomach cramps that she broke out in a cold sweat. In the end, she made it into a top-tier university—but only by the narrowest of margins.

During college, when money had been painfully tight, she'd ranked first in her major. Yet someone with connections had pulled strings behind the scenes, and her comprehensive assessment score was mysteriously marked down, costing her the scholarship.

Other than her acting career, which had gone surprisingly smoothly, with one drama after another making it to air instead of being shelved, she couldn't think of many instances where fortune had truly smiled on her. 

"The other spot," Qi Yao said quietly. "I'm guessing it went to Teacher Zhao Min."

Yu Jiashu looked at her for a long moment. His fingertips tapped lightly against his thigh twice. Then his long fingers drew together, as though punctuating a thought with a silent snap. His head tilted back in a small, subtle motion.

"Right." He gazed at her. "And wrong."

"...Hm?"

After a long pause, Yu Jiashu seemed to sigh.

"Wasn't planning on saying anything."

He straightened, then braced one arm against the sofa cushion beside her.

The distance between them vanished in an instant. Suddenly, startlingly, he was close enough for her to feel the weight of his presence.

His dark eyes locked onto hers.

Qi Yao had only put on the lightest layer of makeup today, only because she'd been planning to go out. Her skin was clear, pale, and soft. A faint flush was starting to show through.

The sharp, clean scent of cedar and mint enveloped her.

Caught completely off guard, her fingers instinctively clenched around the sofa cushion. She froze, meeting his gaze without blinking.

...What was he going to say?

She couldn't stop herself from holding her breath.

Her gaze lingered on the man before her.

His features were clean-cut and striking, almost unchanged from the boy who had once walked past her all those years ago.

The dim light from the dining room and the foyer was reflected in his pupils, like an upside-down galaxy.

In her daze, Yu Jiashu suddenly retreated back to his own space. He placed the photo on the coffee table, pinning it beneath his long, lean fingers.

"I meant to ask you earlier."

He reached over and picked up a black pen from the side table. With one hand, he uncapped it with practiced ease.

The tip hovered above the photograph for a moment, as though he were considering something.

Then it touched down.

Just beneath the outer corner of her right eye in the photo, about a centimeter below it, he drew a tiny, perfectly round dot.

A beauty mark

"Where did this little mole go?"

The air went utterly still.

The wind stopped howling. The tree branches ceased their rustling. Even the draft drifting through the hallway was still. It filled her heart and lungs, and then was slowly, painfully squeezed out again. A wave of unspeakable, aching bitterness surged up, carrying the weight of all those passing years, a delayed impact that hit with devastating force.

No answer came for a long time.

He turned his head to look at her.

Qi Yao sat frozen in place, her lashes trembling uncontrollably. Her eyes had reddened, though she seemed completely unaware of it. She just looked at him with those peach-blossom eyes, a fine sheen of moisture gathering in them, and asked, very softly:

"You knew it was me?"

---

← Previous | Table of Contents | Next →

0