Starlight Descends - 22

The Pavillion

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The next day.

Qi Yao had spent the night tangled in chaotic dreams. She woke with a jolt, still groggy, and lay staring at the ceiling for a while.

The blackout curtains held the room in deep shadow, but when she fished her phone off the nightstand, the screen told her it was nearly eleven.

Ye Qingman was still dead to the world beside her.

Qi Yao had been too wound up to sleep last night. Ye Qingman had stayed up talking with her until three in the morning. After Qi Yao finally drifted off, Ye Qingman apparently continued to binge-watch some drama, and from the looks of it, wouldn't be up anytime soon.

Qi Yao slipped out of bed carefully, grabbed something simple from the walk-in closet, tidied herself up just enough, and headed out.

"Lizi, if she wakes up, order her some takeout, would you?"

Lizi, hands on the steering wheel, murmured agreement. Xiao Wang was still away, keeping his wife company during her postpartum confinement.

"Oh, right. Did we send Xiao Wang the red envelope?"

"Sent, sent. It was so generous, he's beyond grateful." Lizi steered the car into a narrow lane and parked outside a cramped storefront with no sign.

"Good."

The lane was narrow, flanked by white walls and dark-tiled roofs, its ground paved with pale celadon flagstones.

Stepping out of the car, Qi Yao looked up. Layered eaves cut cleanly into the blue sky above. It carried a certain Jiangnan water-town charm to it.

The attendant at the door directed Lizi to park in the rear courtyard. Qi Yao followed the server inside.

This was a famous private kitchen, notoriously hard to book. Even Qi Yao, who never cared much about food, knew of it.

The corridor opened into a spacious hall, where a rock garden murmured with running water. A faint, deliberate trace of sandalwood lingered in the air. The server pushed open the private room door, bowed slightly, and ushered her inside.

"You're here." The woman seated facing the doorway smiled, her features holding a distinctive, effortless elegance.

"Min-jie," Qi Yao said.

"Sit." Zhao Min waved the server off. "I remember you prefer lighter dishes? I ordered a few things casually. Let me know if we need more."

Qi Yao glanced at the menu. Every dish was indeed on the delicate side. She smiled. "I'm flattered you remember."

"Of course I do. We spent all that time together shooting that Republican-era drama back in the day." Zhao Min laced her fingers loosely, elbows propped on the table, studying her with something akin to nostalgia.

"Back then you were still the third female lead, no billing. Now you can hold your own. Truly impressive."

It wasn't that Qi Yao didn't know how to respond. She just didn't want to.

What was there to say? "Thank you for your guidance" felt obsequious. "Not at all" was pure pleasantry. Neither sat right with her.

She just curved her eyes and stayed quiet.

"Still the same. Never liked the song and dance.” Zhao Min sighed, a genuine laugh breaking through. "All right, I'll stop circling. You've heard about the Fengxing results, haven't you?"

Technically the results weren't out yet. Qi Yao only knew early because of her tangential connection to Yu Jiashu. Zhao Min, on the other hand, had gotten her answer through sheer network and pure leverage.

"Yes." Qi Yao nodded.

"I watched your footage. It's excellent. Work of that caliber deserves to go straight to the final round. Which, honestly, is why I wanted to talk to you even more."

"I took a real liking to you back in your second year after debut." Zhao Min's expression grew earnest. "You hadn't signed with your agency yet. I was still at my old company, tried to bring you over several times. You never came."

Qi Yao's gaze sharpened.

‘Old company’.

Zhao Min's agency was among the top media companies in the industry. Elite resources. The two had more or less built each other up. 

Qi Yao had heard faint rumors before. Now she was certain. Zhao Min really was planning to leave.

Qi Yao considered for a moment, then answered with measured propriety. "Qiu Lang was my upperclassman. He brought me into this industry and already talked to me by then. It really wouldn't have been right to accept another offer."

"Alright." Zhao Min unhurriedly poured tea into her cup. "I know you. Qiu Lang's shabby company can't measure up to even a single toe of my old company, but here you are, loyal to a fault."

 

"I just think you have a real gift. No formal training, but you work hard and you're serious. You're still young. No reason to bury yourself there picking up web drama crumbs while getting shackled to some newly signed rookie."

Qi Yao remained silent.

"I'm not getting any younger. Can't live off youth forever. I'm planning to step behind the scenes." Zhao Min pressed her lips to the tea cup, her words heavy with implication.

"The last time I saw these qualities in someone, it was in Song Qinglan."

Song Qinglan, last year's Golden Eagle Goddess, belonged to the same generation as Zhao Min. The only actress in history to win the Most Popular Actress award twice.

"I wouldn't dare compare myself to Qinglan-jie." Qi Yao pressed her lips together and let the topic drop.

Zhao Min didn't push. She sat there, calm and assured. "Anyway, I've made my intentions clear. Of all the young actresses, I have the highest hopes for you. Whenever you're ready to jump ship, the door is open."

They didn't return to the subject after that, veering off into other conversation.

Zhao Min held a high standing in the industry, arguably one of the strongest among the post-’85 generation. In ensemble posters, her image was always enlarged and placed at the center. Yet she carried no airs.

They talked and laughed easily. The meal passed in a pleasant blur.

The atmosphere next door was just as pleasant.

Unlike Qi Yao's small private room, this one was bigger. Six people sat around a carved solid-wood round table, four men and two women.

The business hadn't concluded yet. The waitstaff maintained a professional distance, attentive without being intrusive.

Two identical copies of an acquisition agreement lay open on the table. A black pen moved across the page, signing in fluid strokes.

"I'll take my leave, then. Wishing Jingfan ever greater success." The man in the suit looked weary. He tucked his copy of the agreement into his briefcase, walked to the door, and shook hands. His secretary followed close behind.

"Thank you," Yu Jiashu said. "We'll meet again when time allows."

The man suddenly remembered something. "Xiao Li, you and President Yu were classmates, right? Stay and catch up. No need to tail me."

Another man at the table, dressed in a blue button-down, called out, "Yes, boss. Take care on the road."

The woman in business attire followed the man out, turning with a polite smile. The private room door opened and closed, silence settling back in.

"Soon as I heard we were negotiating an acquisition with Jingfan, I figured I might run into you. So I jumped at the chance and asked my boss to bring me along." Li Xun had been starving. He ask the server to pile his bowl high with rice. 

"My boss asked why. I said we were classmates. He asked me," Li Xun cleared his throat and delivered an impression, "Real classmates? He's a President now. Why are you still working for me?'"

Da Bai cackled. "I'm seven or eight years older than you guys, and I'm still working for him."

"No comparison, no comparison." Li Xun raised his glass. “Back in school, when we competed in the same contests, the gap between us hadn't seemed all that big.”

"Then I got out into the world and realized—though we both won provincial awards, they didn’t carry the same weight. For me, that was my ceiling. For him, it was simply because the competition didn’t go beyond the provincial level.”

"Ancient history." Yu Jiashu leaned back against his chair, relaxed, indifferent. "Not worth talking about."

"Fine." Li Xun drained a glass of wine, studied Yu Jiashu for a long moment, then chuckled, a little rueful. "How is it you haven't changed at all?"

"How should I have changed?"

"Losing hair. Getting a gut. Getting married. Having kids." Li Xun ticked them off on his fingers. "Say we live to a hundred, we're about a quarter of the way through. Feels like we should be entering the next, more mature stage."

"Who defines how you live?" Yu Jiashu lifted his eyes lazily. "If you're happy, there's no rule saying you can't look the same at a hundred."

Li Xun caught something in his tone and laughed. "Fair point. No wonder my wife used to have a crush for you.”

"Cough, cough." Da Bai choked on his tea, his expression unreadable. "Is that something you're allowed to say?"

Li Xun grinned. "It would've been abnormal for a girl at our school not to have a crush on him. It was either him or the other one."

As he said this, his gaze flicked to the person seated next to Yu Jiashu.

A blue-gray blazer layered over a chiffon blouse revealed a long neck and pale collarbones. Even at rest, her spine was straight. Her black hair was sleek and well-kept, its texture almost luminous.

Yu Jiashu followed his gaze, a teasing smile flickering in his eyes. He cleared his throat, half genuine, half in jest.

"Ahem."

Yan Jiu had been scrolling on her phone. She looked up at the sound and ran a quick mental replay of the last few lines of conversation.

"Don't." She waved a hand. "Play by yourselves. Leave me out of it. I'm just a legal counsel on a million-yuan salary."

Laughter rippled around the table.

A thought struck Yu Jiashu, and he looked slightly surprised. "You're married?"

"The banquet is next week. I piggybacked on this project to hand-deliver the invitation." Li Xun pulled two invitations from his bag, checked the names, and handed one over.

Pale celadon, cutout design, photos of the couple and the invitation card tucked inside. Beautiful.

Yu Jiashu glanced at it. His long fingers moved, neatly tucking the invitation back into its envelope. A faint, half-lifted smile played at the corner of his mouth as he looked down. "Nice photo. Wishing you a happy marriage in advance."

Which meant he wouldn't be attending.

Li Xun clicked his tongue. "Yeah, figured. I already told my wife you'd be busy. She insisted I ask anyway. Said it was the one and only request of me."

"Unbelievable." Da Bai was laughing so hard he clutched his stomach.

Yu Jiashu's mouth curved. He pressed a fingertip to the invitation and slid it forward without a word.

"You'll regret it, though."

"Will I?” He asked idly, unconcerned.

"Seriously!" Li Xun struggled to swallow a mouthful of rice and lowered his voice discreetly. "A female celebrity is coming to grace my humble wedding."

"... Who?"

"You probably don't know her. A classmate of ours. She was quiet in high school, didn't talk much. But she's huge now. All the way here I saw her drama posters everywhere on the mall screens."

"Ahem." Da Bai coughed this time, half genuine, half in jest, his expression growing increasingly loaded.

Yan Jiu raised an eyebrow, picking up on something instantly. Da Bai shot her a look.

Yu Jiashu ignored them both. He arched one eyebrow, tapping his fingertip twice against the invitation.

After a long pause, his long, defined fingers moved. He pressed a thumb to the pale envelope and drew it back toward him.

"Guess I'll have to go see for myself."

***

"How are you getting back?" Zhao Min stood at the door with mask on, asking Qi Yao.

"My assistant will pick me up in a bit. I have another appointment here." Qi Yao stood by the doorframe. "You can go ahead."

"All right." Zhao Min picked up her bag and got into the car. Before closing the door, she turned back to look at Qi Yao. "Don't forget what I said earlier."

"I know."

Qi Yao waved, watched the black Rolls-Royce exit the lane, then turned and walked back through the corridor, texting as she went.

[1]: Class monitor, I'm all done on my end. Where are you?

Her high school class monitor had contacted her last week. He was getting married, and his fiancée, also a classmate from their school, was a huge fan. Could Qi Yao do them the honor of attending the wedding banquet?

Qi Yao had never been one to put on airs. She'd gotten along well with him back then, and happened to have the time. So she agreed.

Coincidentally, he'd mentioned he was eating here, so she'd arranged to meet up.

He replied: I just finished too. Can you wait for me in that small courtyard at the end of the corridor?

Qi Yao typed okay, pocketed her phone, and walked slowly along the grey stone path into the octagonal pavilion. She found a spot and sat quietly, waiting.

Living water flowed beneath her feet. Every breath was clean and fresh. Everywhere she looked, there was weathered brown wood, deep green foliage, and clean white walls.

She'd once planned to go to college somewhere along the southern coast. But life rarely went the way you wanted.

One year, during a Beijing sandstorm, she had stuck her head out the library window. The sky was a solid wall of yellow dust, blotting out the sun. Back then, she had thought that, in its own way, it wasn’t so different from the soft, gentle water towns. Different paths, leading to the same destination.

Qi Yao's thoughts swelled and ebbed as she let her gaze wander aimlessly.

Suddenly, a familiar figure crashed into her line of sight.

A man, standing sideways at the bend of the corridor.

His loose white shirt was rolled carelessly at the cuffs, exposing a stretch of lean forearm. His chin was slightly lifted, the clean line of his throat shifting as he spoke casually to the person beside him.

A woman. Very pretty. Upon a closer look, her features stirred a sense of déjà vu.

Qi Yao's memory wasn't poor. And this scene was far, far too familiar.

For a moment, she was thrown back to the past, to all those times she watched them posted together on the school honor roll. Their two beautiful photos are always at the very top, pressed close to one another.

And all she could do was scrape her own name onto the margins of that list, insignificant and unremarkable. 

High schoolers. A group that could spin entire stories out of a single thread of connection. And these two were genuine childhood friends.

Going home together, coming to school together, carrying things for each other. The gossip had burned from freshman year to senior year. There was even a rumor that he'd gotten into a fight for her.

Someone as proud as he was. At seventeen or eighteen, he seemed to hold the whole world beneath him. But he'd apparently fought someone for her.

And now, standing next to each other, they still looked perfectly matched.

A tide rose silently over her, covering her breath, gentle but without mercy, slowly drowning her.

"Yao-mei!"

Li Xun came trotting down the corridor, slightly out of breath. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

The courtyard was quiet. The call cut clean through it. Before Qi Yao could avert her gaze, she saw Yu Jiashu turn his head slightly and glanced over.

His eyes were deep black, unreadable, still carrying the ease and humor of whatever conversation he'd just been in. He looked vividly alive.

Their eyes met across the distance.

Qi Yao pressed her lips together and shifted her gaze away as calmly as she could manage.

She accepted the invitation from Li Xun, saying softly, "Thank you."

"I was just eating with some old classmates here. Not sure if you'd know him?"

It's been years since they'd last met and she was a celebrity now, Li Xun seemed a little nervous, reaching for small talk to fill the space. 

From the fragments Qi Yao picked up, she learned they were there to finalize an acquisition. The young woman was a big shot lawyer, helping Jingfan with due diligence and drafting the agreement.

They exchanged brief pleasantries. Before Yu Jiashu could walk over, Qi Yao hurried out through the back door, retreating into the environment she knew best.

They hadn't actually been standing that close. The conversation had probably been about work. She was the one reading too much into it.

The tinted car window cut off the view. Just as the door closed, she lifted her eyes toward the distant figure, thinking.

They are completely at ease.

I am the one who isn't.

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