Starlight Descends - 27

Love Letter

---

After the National Day holiday, October offered little to look forward to. 

The ginkgo leaves were sparser than early autumn, spinning on their branches with every gust of wind. Office workers who'd squeezed onto the morning subway wore blank expressions, crushed by work but still required to present a polite, appropriate smile.

Qi Yao was no exception.

Nerves strung tight, body and mind exhausted, she pulled her mask on and once again stepped through the doors of Fengxing Group.

This time, it was the final interview. 

She wasn't entirely sure how the second round had gone. The past two weeks had been a blur of brand events and new endorsement shoots, so hectic her feet barely touched the ground. She'd even been reading scripts in the car. When you're that busy, there's simply no time for anxiety or second-guessing. She had absolutely no mental energy to spare. 

Following the staff member up to the eighth floor, she half wished she could walk with her eyes closed and steal a little more sleep. 

Lizi had to periodically tug her back on course.

The hallway was bright and clean, the atmosphere hushed with occasional clatter of a keyboard and murmur of low conversation.

 "Right here," the staff member opened a door and ushered her in.

Qi Yao dug her nails into her palm to jolt herself alert and gave a small, polite nod of thanks.

But as her eyes swept the room and caught the figure inside, her body froze. The drowsiness vanished in that instant, she almost stepped backward on reflex. 

"..."

An "intern" was sprawled in the main seat, long legs stretched out, spinning a pen idly between his fingers, lifting his eyes to look at her.

What a terrifying scene.

Can I still run?

Maybe because he was there, the interviewers on either side of him were visibly restrained, their faces professionally stiff as they gestured for her to sit.

Qi Yao paused for two seconds, then steeled herself and walked forward, settling into the chair across Yu Jiashu. 

He was wearing a black button-down today, the cut still irreverently casual. He sat with a lazy slouch, his thin eyelids drooping slightly, heavy with fatigue.

It seemed wearing a hoodie to this makeup workday would have been a step too far, even for him, and this shirt was the extent of his respect for Fengxing. 

At first glance, you'd never guess he'd be seated at the head of the table in a setting like this.

Qi Yao swept her eyes over him once, then looked away. 

Better not look. If she looked again, she'd remember ‘I was very terrified’ he'd said. 

...Too incongruous. Impossible to picture.

The final interview, in truth, held no hidden traps. Three interviewers faced her, asking questions about products, scheduling, and itinerary planning. The background check had been so thorough she barely needed to speak. 

For the most part, the two interviewers on the sides asked the questions. The one in the middle stayed silent, leaning back expressionless in his chair, listening quietly.

Qi Yao deliberately avoided his gaze and answered as smoothly as she could.

"Alright, understood." The interviewer on the left finished her last question, already forming a general assessment. She asked, as a procedural wrap-up, "Does Young President Yu have any further questions?"

This man had been sitting here all morning, apparently at President Yu's insistence. 

Word had it, Jingfan had pulled an all-nighter meeting last night. Exhausted as he looked, he still showed up punctually.

He'd been mostly silent. His features cool, jawline sharp, mood not particularly good. As a man of few words, whenever he did open his mouth, he cut straight to the point, no courtesy whatsoever.

Sleep deprivation made his expression look indifferent, something he forcibly suppressed. He carried an air that was at once humble and arrogant.

But sometimes he couldn't hold it down, and the full edge of him slipped through.

A minor artist had failed the second interview but was pushed into the final round by higher-ups hoping for some flexibility.

The interviewer, at the end of the day, was just an employee. They were paid to do a job and hadn't dared to object.

Yu Jiashu simply leaned back in his seat, lifted his eyes to the pretty young woman, and asked, with a ghost of a smile: Do you think I'm running a charity? 

Nothing else. Just that one line. But more than enough to make a someone's face burn with shame. 

In the end, the young artist had fled the room in tears. The man simply looked down and called out, Next.

The interviewer on the left thought: This man is going to be a formidable figure in the future.

In any case, whenever he was prompted to speak, it was rarely good news.

"Schedule's no issue, fee is acceptable, she's easy to communicate with.” The interviewer jotted notes as she spoke, pausing for two seconds before continuing. "If there are no further issues..."

"There is one.”

Yu Jiashu leaned his spine against the back of his chair, his long fingers slowly spinning his pen, one turn forward, one turn back. He lifted his eyes and spoke coolly.

"..."

The interviewer on the left froze. She shot a discreet glance at her colleague on the right, barely concealing her shock. 

...No way, she thought, looking at Qi Yao.

Was this one also squeezed in through connections?

The air went still. Seconds ticked by. 

Qi Yao had no idea what they were thinking. She just knew there was no avoiding this and had no choice but to lift her eyes to look at him. 

Her face revealed nothing, but her heart was lodged in her throat. 

Please don't say anything outrageous, she prayed.

Yu Jiashu watched her for a moment. As if he'd heard her silent plea, he said, "Teacher Qi, are you free this weekend?"

Qi Yao paused. Her delicate brows lifted a fraction in surprise. "Huh?"

Yu Jiashu didn't repeat himself. He spun the pen backward once more. His fingers were long and distinctly knuckled, the tendons and bones on the back of his hand sharp and clear.

"...Yes."

"Noon or evening?"

Qi Yao thought for a moment. "Evening."

"Alright." Yu Jiashu's ring finger lifted, his long fingers shifting to press the ballpoint pen down onto the desk. "Then remember to treat me."

"...?”

When Qi Yao finally made her escape, she all but fled beneath the covertly probing stares of the two interviewers beside him. She didn't see Yu Jiashu's gaze follow her retreating figure. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth

All she'd said was she'd treat him to a meal to apologize!

This was official business! What was wrong with this man!

But Qi Yao didn't have time to dwell on it. After the interview, she plunged back into her schedule, heading to an offline brand event. 

The two endorsements Qiao Nian mentioned last time had both been secured, and the official announcements were well-received. 

She now held nineteen endorsements spanning beauty, fashion, and household goods. The studio had already prepared the promotional images, just waiting for the twentieth deal to close before releasing them.

By the time Qi Yao thought of this matter again, it was already Sunday evening.

She'd just turned the last page of a script. Lizi was asking what she wanted for dinner. Qi Yao thought seriously for a moment, listed a few dishes, and then her eyes caught the clock on the TV cabinet.

It was the final day of the week.

"Let's not cook," Qi Yao said quickly, waving Lizi off. She got up from the sofa and grabbed her phone, dialing a number.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end was clear, threaded with a faint electric current that seemed to travel straight into her ear. 

… This was the first time she'd ever called him. 

Qi Yao glanced at the time and asked quietly, "Um, have you eaten yet?" 

Her voice was soft, very gentle, and carried a distinct note of guilt.

She heard his voice pull away from the receiver as he said "hold on" to someone on his end, followed by some rustling before it finally went quiet. 

"Not yet." 

Yu Jiashu stood in the hallway, elbow resting on the railing, half-leaning forward lazily. He glanced at his watch. "Didn't someone say she was treating me?"

"Is it convenient now? I'll book a restaurant. Although at this hour there might not be any good ones left..."

Yu Jiashu laughed, drawing out his syllables, interrupting her lazily. "Better hurry up, then."

"What's going on?" Da Bai poked his head out of the conference room, looking at him in surprise. "You're leaving? What about the meeting?"

"Move it to tomorrow." Yu Jiashu put his phone away and turned back to gather his things.

"Hey, this was supposed to be yesterday's meeting! You said you had plans, pushed it to today. How come you have plans again now?" Da Bai watched him go, thoroughly perplexed.

"The plans didn't happen yesterday." Zhou Qi said cheerfully, shutting down his computer. He cupped a hand beside his mouth and whispered to Da Bai, "He spent all night at home playing video games yesterday. Seemed to be in a pretty bad mood, too, kept taking passive-aggressive shots at me." 

Zhou Qi looked deeply wronged. "I really don't think I'm that bad."

As he was speaking, Yu Jiashu shot him a cool glance, and he shut up immediately. 

Yu Jiashu lowered his eyes. His long fingers tapped across the screen, sending a large red packet to the group chat. The groans and sighs instantly turned to cheers of delight.

"Come find me at home after work tomorrow.” 

“I'm off."

At this hour, there were indeed no good restaurants to book. No proper establishment with a decent ambiance was still holding tables past eight in the evening. Lizi called every place she could think of and came up empty. 

"The most secluded spot I've got, cleared it out special for you!" The owner, still in his apron, cheerfully drew the cloth curtain shut to offer some semblance of privacy.

The barbecue joint was bustling, small wooden tables spilling from inside the shop out onto the street, lively as could be.

The curtain only covered one side, and it didn't even reach the floor. Any patron at another table who didn't sit perfectly upright would have an unobstructed view of the people inside.

"So, um, will this do?" Qi Yao asked, gripping her cup a little sheepishly. 

Her fingers tightened. She looked at him anxiously, half-afraid Yu Jiashu would drop something like "this sure is quite a make-do," and she'd have nowhere to hide.

The man had changed into a hoodie, layered under a dark blue denim jacket, the hood pulled out at the collar. It gave him a streetwear feel. 

Honestly, he wasn't even old. Most people his age were still in school. But because he was so often steeped in formal settings, he seemed to carry more life experience than his years. 

Right now, he was sitting on a blue plastic stool, his thin eyelids lifting, pupils deep black, staring at her.

His long legs, cramped in the tiny space, was propped up with some discomfort. 

The whole picture radiated a young master condescending to humble surroundings.

Qi Yao's heart thumped nervously. Hadn't she seen him here last time? Did he not like barbecue?

"Just grateful it's Sunday," Yu Jiashu said after a long pause.

"Hm?"

"I'm not in a suit." He braced his foot on the ground and pushed his chair back just enough to give his legs some room, then stood up loosely. "Otherwise it really would be quite a make-do."

Qi Yao watched him walk up to her, her heart hanging in her throat. "What are you doing?" 

He's not leaving, is he?

He stood over her, so tall that he blocked the bright white fluorescent light behind him, casting her in shadow. 

She tilted her face up to look at him. 

This angle was generally unforgiving. Most people couldn't survive it. But when she raised her eyes, what she saw was the clean, sharp line of his jaw.

A thin veil of skin wrapped over angular bone, crisp and clean. The line of his throat was smooth, his Adam's apple prominent, shifting up and down as he spoke.

Yu Jiashu reached out and gripped the back of her chair with one hand. With a slight flex of his forearm, he pulled. The chair, and her in it, slid backward. 

Her shoes skidded across the floor. Qi Yao immediately clutched the sides of the chair, the flimsy plastic digging into her palms. 

He tilted his chin slightly, gesturing toward the spot opposite her. His voice was low, perfectly casual.

"Move to the inside."

The inside spot was against the wall, shielded by both the curtain and the wall itself. Much more private. No one could see her there unless they specifically craned their neck to look. 

Qi Yao paused for two seconds, then gave a quiet "Oh" and got up to switch seats.

"Did you have plans tonight?" She thought she'd heard several people talking on his end.

"Nothing major." Yu Jiashu wrapped his fingers around a can, hooked his index finger through the pull tab, and tugged it back. A light fizz of foam spilled over the rim. "Minor stuff." 

He handed her the opened soda and casually took the napkin she offered, wiping his fingers briefly. He looked at her. "Certainly nowhere near as busy as you."

"I really was busy this week." Qi Yao defended herself quietly. "But I did remember, didn't I? Timely remedy.”

She felt a little guilty and didn't dare meet his eyes, fixing her gaze on the small wooden table instead. Her head drooping, showing soft little baby hairs at her temple on full display.

Yu Jiashu laughed. "I'm not blaming you."

"Oh, right." Qi Yao looked at him. This matter had been stuck in her chest for a while.

The girl was dressed very simply, a pink and white palette, her long hair loose. A relaxed knitted top with a wide off-shoulder neckline revealed her delicate collarbones. She looked effortlessly beautiful. 

"That day at the interview. You didn't pull any strings for me, did you?" She asked tentatively. They hadn't said anything substantive, but it would be inevitable for people to speculate about their relationship and trigger a cascade of uncontrollable consequences.

Yu Jiashu's eyebrow lifted slightly, then glanced at her. "I did."

Qi Yao: "?"

???

"Ah?" Her eyes went wide. "You did?"

Yu Jiashu made an affirming sound. He held the can and said unhurriedly, "I told them you're my high school classmate. They said in that case, what's there to interview then? Let's just give it to her directly."

Qi Yao: "..."

"Stop teasing me! If you really had that much power, would you have been sitting there practically falling asleep?!"

This time it was Yu Jiashu's turn to be surprised. "It was that obvious?"

"Your eyes were basically closed," Qi Yao made a soft, derisive sound. "Exactly how you used to look dozing off in Chinese class."

Yu Jiashu: "..."

"How do you know I dozed off during Chinese class?"

"Teacher Zhang told us." Their high school Chinese teacher had taught both their classes. "She used to criticize you by name in our class all the time. 'King of Lopsided Grades.'"

"What kind of nickname is that?" Yu Jiashu was speechless. He tilted his head and thought for a moment. "Oh, I remember now."

"What?"

"The model essays she was always reading out. That was you, wasn't it?"

Qi Yao hadn't expected him to remember that. She opened her mouth, then just gave a small sound of acknowledgment. 

Having this old history suddenly brought up, it was as though a long-dormant memory had been stirred back to life. The realization that he still remembered such trivial details from their school days sent a wave of self-conscious embarrassment through her.

Yu Jiashu narrowed his eyes slightly, studying her for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair. "And the one who always came to our class to deliver homework. That was you too, wasn't it?"

His tone was distinctly accusatory.

"...!”

She steeled herself to answer, "Yes."

"Unbelievable." The corner of Yu Jiashu's mouth tugged.

"Do you know that every time you walked out the door, I'd get scolded by Teacher Zhang?"

"...Huh?"

He looked at her, mimicking in deadpan face: "'Look at her handwriting. Now look at yours! You're the exact same age. What is this mess you've scrawled?!"

"...Pfft."

The originally impassioned words were delivered by him in his flat, drawling, lazy cadence. Paired with his indifferent expression, Qi Yao couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Your handwriting wasn't that bad. I thought it was quite nice?"

Yu Jiashu's eyebrow arched. The coldness dissipated, replaced by a look that clearly said you have excellent taste.

"Maybe I just wrote nicely for you."

"It really was nice," Qi Yao insisted quietly. "It's a bit messy, but you can tell there's a sharp edge to it. The strokes are bold and confident."

Yu Jiashu laughed. "You're pretty good at flattery."  

"Though it didn't seem to keep you continue writing to me after that."

"I did write..." 

The words were out before Qi Yao's brain caught up, an unguarded reflex. She stopped mid-sentence.

Yu Jiashu also paused for a beat. He lifted his eyes and looked at her. 

His elbow rested loosely on his knee. He sat beneath the bright white light, as if glowing with it. His dark pupils reflected her image. 

In that moment of locked gazes, Qi Yao belatedly realized: he was talking about the pen pal letters. 

And here she was talking about the love letter no one was ever meant to know about.

The air went silent for a long moment. Even the noise beyond the cloth curtain seemed to recede. 

The grilled pork belly steamed with heat, its savory aroma curling in the air. The carbonated soda bubbled and fizzed. Every detail of the scene was too familiar, as if they were back in the narrow alley beside the No. 1 High School gate.

The time she had slipped the envelope to him in the split second they brushed past each other—that had also been a night like this, the alley lined with food stalls.

It was the final self-study session before the college entrance exams. The area outside the No. 1 High School gate had been bustling.

Seventeen and eighteen-year-olds, not yet understanding the true meaning of parting, had been buzzing with nervousness or relief, their heads full of vision about life after the exam, wholly unaware of how deeply they would later miss this seemingly endless stretch of school days.

A girl in her proper school uniform had stood at the school gate, watching him sling his backpack over one shoulder, laughing and waving goodbye to his friends, then turn and walk down the alley. 

She had just stood there, leaning against the wall, silently waiting for him to pass. 

The moment they brushed past had felt immensely long, and also unbearably short.

The minty scent of his school uniform swirled around her in the breeze. Cherry blossoms at the mouth of the alley drifted down under the dim yellow streetlight. 

She held her breath, and without a word, gently tucked all of her youthful heart into the side pocket of his backpack. 

The moment the envelope left her fingers, she had brushed lightly against the hem of his uniform jacket lifted by the wind.

The white fabric of the shirt was soft, still holding his warmth. She possessed it briefly, and then it was gone without a backward glance.

Fleeting.

Just him unknowingly walking past her was enough to unleash a rainstorm in her small, narrow world.

Now they sat in the noisy, chaotic present, looking at each other in silence. As if a thousand unspoken words hung between them. 

Wine glasses clinked crisply. Oil from the charcoal grill dripped and sizzled.

Yu Jiashu made a soft sound of acknowledgment. 

"I know you wrote it.”

---

← Previous | Table of Contents | Next →

0