Starlight Descends - 45
Daylight
Tuesday morning, she was at a photoshoot for Fengxing's endorsement campaign.
The makeup artist, hewing to the brand's identity, studied Qi Yao's features and built a look that was neither overly intellectual nor too soft.
She wore a white satin slip dress with a faint pearlescent sheen, bearing the long line of her neck and the fine, thin architecture of her shoulders and back. Her makeup was light, emphasizing her already sculpted features.
Her long, pale fingers toyed with the new phone that matched the color of her dress. Sitting beneath the studio lights with her back perfectly straight, Qi Yao lifted her eyelids ever so slightly and tipped up her chin. When she wasn't smiling, there was a cool, aloof beauty about her.
Lizi dubbed it the "I-do-what-I-want-and-everyone-falls-in-line" power look, spending the entire shoot snapping behind-the-scenes footage to build up a stockpile of future content.
Yu Jiashu also stopped by under the excuse of checking on the project.
He stood behind the monitor, watching her shine beneath the camera lens as she lowered her lashes in concentration, he found himself thinking the same thing Ye Qingman once had.
This industry suited her.
A pearl might gather dust, but sooner or later the wind would lift the veil away and reveal its brilliance to the world.
That evening.
Fengxing officially announced its new spokesperson with a high-definition close-up poster, instantly igniting heated discussion across social media.
[Fengxing China V]: Bamboo bends beneath the sea wind, then it rises. Mountains darken in the storm, then it clears. #FengxingX11Series Global Ambassador @QiYao invites you to witness the Fengxing X-11 Series launch, December 31st, 14:30. [image]
The result blindsided most observers. The public square exploded.
Qi Yao was, after all, too young.
Wild Pear Branch had been a massive hit and was already slated for securing television broadcast slots; it still hadn't aired on any TV channels. Her base wasn't broad enough yet; her fans still skewed young, which differed from Fengxing's target consumer demographic.
Alongside the congratulations and anticipation came plenty of criticism.
Comments like "Fengxing is lowering its own status" and "I thought they'd go with someone high-end, not another web-drama actress" quickly spread across discussion spaces.
Marketing accounts mobilized, pitting Qi Yao against the other actresses previously rumored to have auditioned for Fengxing, especially the names with the loudest fan campaigns. Related topics continued climbing the trending charts.
The Zhao Min versus Qi Yao comparisons got especially vicious: passersby waded in with hot takes, fans traded passive-aggressive digs, and both fandoms tore at each other with visible intensity.
Fortunately, Qiao Nian had been monitoring the studio's official account and quietly tipped off the fan club leaders and major fan accounts in advance. The moderation efforts under the announcement post was effective. Within twenty-four hours, the post surpassed one hundred thousand shares, and the comment section was filled almost entirely with:
"Looking forward to the Fengxing X11 series, looking forward to our ambassador Qi Yao [heart]."
However ugly things got elsewhere, the official post stayed pristine. The wider public discussion, however, was beyond anyone's control.
Even the next day, when Qi Yao changed into a simpler, more elegant look to film commercials and promotional videos, several related topics were still sitting on the trending lists.
Fortunately, she had long since grown accustomed to it. She neither looked nor paid it attention. To block out external noise, focus inward: a capacity that is proved difficult to master.
Lizi continued diligently filming behind-the-scenes clips, saving content to share with fans later.
Since this particular styling hadn't been revealed yet, she cautiously asked a staff member, "Is it okay to post this?"
"Behind-the-scenes that don't leak the product are fine for release. But I wouldn't recommend it. The video announcement is coming out the day after tomorrow. Better to wait until then."
Lizi nodded, thanked her politely. She didn't see the staff member rolling her eyes as soon as she turned away, muttering to the person next to her. "Nobodies stay nobodies. A pie falls out of the sky, they catch it, and instead of keeping low-key, they can't wait to show it off."
"Oh, give it a rest." The person beside her nudged her shoulder. "I think she's fine. Strong camera presence too. She earned it on her own merit. The boss hasn't said a word, so who are you to nurse a grudge on behalf of your Min-jie?"
"Who knows how she really got it. I heard from the eighth floor, she and Young President Yu were high school classmates."
Her voice dropped lower halfway through the sentence, still visibly dissatisfied, then turned away and began furiously tapping on her phone, typing who knew what.
After the commercial shoot came the promotional video. Filming lasted the entire day. Even lunch was eaten in a room outside the studio.
By the time they finished, dusk had nearly fallen. Qi Yao followed the photographer around behind the monitor to review the footage.
Everything looked solid.
"There's almost no unusable footage," the photographer praised. "You have great instincts in front of the camera, and you understand how to embody the product. The final cut should look fantastic."
"Thank you." Qi Yao smiled, the corners of her eyes curving softly upward. Requests for photos and autographs immediately came from every direction. She accommodated each one with patience and bright good humor. Before leaving, she bowed to all the staff members present.
While changing clothes in the dressing room, she received a call from Yu Jiashu. Pressing speakerphone, she set the phone on the table and slipped on her coat.
"Hello?"
His clear voice came through with a faint crackle of static. "Done shooting?"
Qi Yao hummed in acknowledgment, motioning for Lizi to hang the dress on the rack, then sank into the single armchair. "Just finished."
"How'd it go?"
"Pretty good," Qi Yao said. "Everything went smoothly. I liked the styling too."
A quiet acknowledgment came from the other end.
Then silence.
Holding her phone, Qi Yao sat back against the soft cushions and blinked.
The speaker rested against her ear, creating a faint pressure.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Their breathing, separated by air and distance, rose and fell with a tiny delay, drawn out and intertwined, unnervingly distinct.
A strange intuition settled over Qi Yao. It felt as though this call wasn't really about asking how the shoot had gone.
As if it meant something else.
She could make out the fading noise around him, as though he had left behind some brightly lit, bustling place and found a quiet corner just to talk to her.
Fragmented by the wind, Yu Jiashu suddenly spoke.
"My childhood friend’s birthday is today."
His voice was low. Low and heavy. Gone was the lazy drawl that usually lingered at the ends of his words. Gone was the familiar air of effortless confidence and careless ease, that suggested nothing was ever worth his full attention.
Qi Yao paused two seconds. She caught the shift in tone first, and only then processed the words.
"Huh?"
She remembered that friend. The one who'd called to make him reply to messages.
Lizi finished packing everything up and waited by the door. After hesitating briefly, Qi Yao gestured for her to head to the car first.
Once Lizi had pulled the door shut behind her and the room was quiet, Qi Yao asked softly, "What's going on?"
Silence again.
Something felt off.
Qi Yao asked, hesitating, "Have you been drinking?"
This time the answer came fast, his voice light. "A little."
Qi Yao frowned, remembering that he'd been coughing slightly over the last couple of days. "You're drinking with a cold?"
Yu Jiashu let out a short laugh. "Really, just a little."
"Then go back inside. The temperature dropped. It's cold out."
"Don't want to."
Yu Jiashu stood beneath the eaves, his expression subdued as he spoke calmly.
The new bar Jiang Xun had opened sat downtown, at the far end of a narrow alley.
Sometime without him noticing, winter had arrived. The sky was darkening, the wind sharp and desolate. The street vendors hadn't set up yet, and the alley entrance, usually lively and crowded, felt unusually lonely tonight.
A brief silence came from the other end of the line.
There was a faint rustling sound, probably the sleeve of her coat brushing against the thick fabric as she moved. Even through the phone, it somehow carried a sense of warmth.
Then her voice came, soft and gentle, laced with confusion, asking him what was wrong.
Yu Jiashu lifted his gaze and looked out at the invisible wind sweeping through the empty alley.
Dead leaves and twigs skittered in spirals to his feet, and for no reason, they reminded him of that interview.
Of the brave, honest, open-hearted answers she'd given.
Of the endless strength hidden behind those gentle peach blossom eyes.
Of the meaning concealed beneath the surface of that old letter.
"...Qi Yao."
After a long silence, he seemed to let out a quiet breath.
Looking down at the thin sheet of paper in his hand, his voice carried emotions too complicated to name.
Word by word, he said,
"I saw your letter."
***
By the time Qi Yao reached the address Yan Jiu had sent, night had fully claimed the city.
Beyond the car window, the sky stretched dark and heavy overhead. In its deepest reaches, traces of rich blue still lingered beneath the black.
The car door slowly opened.
Qi Yao's eyelashes trembled.
She bent slightly and stepped out. Her breath misted faintly in the air, vanishing on contact, dissolving like smoke.
Behind her, Lizi hurriedly tried to hand her a scarf, yet Qi Yao seemed not to hear. She stood at the mouth of the alley, frozen in place.
One by one, the street vendors began setting up their stalls.
Wrapped in thick hats and gloves, they moved through the cold evening.
A tricycle selling roasted sweet potatoes rolled up to the intersection. The owner climbed down, switched on the bare bulb dangling beside his crudely lettered sign, and the warm orange light illuminated a small patch of darkness.
The tiny click of the bulb coming to life seemed to pull Qi Yao back to herself.
She took a step forward.
Then another.
And another.
An old-fashioned popcorn machine sat on the ground nearby, its black metal drum turning steadily while an elderly man chatted with the woman selling roasted chestnuts beside him.
The woman pulled protective sleeves over her thick cotton coat, lifted a large wok, and lit the stove beneath it. Responding in hearty, unguarded local dialect.
Then came a sharp click.
The lights along the street flickered on, one after another.
The once-cold corner of the city gradually brightened.
With every step Qi Yao took, more lights awakened around her. They stretched through the alleyways like a river of stars winding through the night.
At the far end of the alley stood a man beneath the eaves.
Tall and straight-backed.
Yet his neck was slightly bowed, his eyes lowered, fixed on a video looping on his phone.
Like a pine tree standing alone beneath winter snow.
The noise and celebration happening just a wall away seemed to have nothing to do with him.
The rest of the world had become little more than background scenery.
His phone screen glowed stubbornly in the darkness, replaying the same simple clip who knows how many times.
In the video, the host smiled politely and asked,
"You've played so many unforgettable first-love characters over the years. Were you also that popular back in your school days?"
At the center of the screen, the clear-eyed girl paused for two seconds. As if remembering something, she suddenly smiled, then slowly shook her head.
"No."
She spoke softly.
"My school days were incredibly ordinary. Honestly, I was more invisible than anyone here could imagine."
Her voice was soft and gentle. She enunciated each word clearly, the sounds held softly between her teeth, carrying a tenderness of distant memories.
Quiet. Ordinary. Out of place.
Those were the unchanging backdrop of her adolescence.
A trace of nostalgia appeared in Qi Yao's expression, but she still smiled.
"I was just an ordinary person standing a hundred thousand miles away from my star, only able to glimpse a sliver of its light."
"How could that be?" The host visibly froze for a moment, caught somewhere between surprise and curiosity. "Then what's the most unforgettable thing you've ever done?"
"There is something." Qi Yao smiled, and a moment later, the smile tucked itself away. She said softly, "I wrote him a letter.”
She lowered her eyes, thinking, then added, "Actually, I wrote him a lot of letters. But this one was different."
"What made it different?" the host asked with a grin. "Was it a love letter?"
The curve of Qi Yao's lips gradually disappeared. Her mouth pressed into a straight line. Her eyelashes trembled.
The hand holding the microphone tightened slightly.
A long moment passed before she finally spoke."It was different because..."
"It was a love letter he would never know existed."
Yu Jiashu, back in his school days, had never lacked for love letters.
A boy of seventeen or eighteen, from a good family, with striking looks. He treated people with clear boundaries. There was always a sense of distance around him, but he never looked down on anyone.
Basketball championships. Competition medals. A permanent fixture on the honor roll.
That figure was always up on the awards podium, tall and effortlessly composed.
When he stood there, lowering his eyes absentmindedly before lifting his chin at the announcement of his name, revealing the sharp line of his jaw beneath the cheers of the crowd, no one could deny what he was.
The golden boy favored by heavens.
On the walk home from school. At the basketball court. Inside his desk drawer after lunch break.
There were always notes and envelopes waiting for him in all different colors and shapes. Some written in elegant handwriting. Some bold. Some shy. Some direct.
Confessions arrived so frequently that he had long stopped finding them unusual.
They were as ordinary as drinking water.
But he had never received a love letter like this one.
A single thin page. Only a handful of lines. Every character had been written carefully, stroke by stroke, with such force it seemed each word had survived an unseen tidal wave.
Blessings.
Nothing but blessings.
Other people always wrote about themselves.
They would say things like, "I'm so-and-so from the class next door. I've noticed you for a long time." Or, "You probably don't remember, but we've met before at such-and-such places."
But she hadn't.
Not one sentence about herself.
She wished him success in international competitions.
Success in the college entrance examination.
Success in reaching the place he wanted to go.
All these years.
All he'd ever known was that she, very sincerely, wished him the brightest future possible.
He'd never known, beneath the clumsy surface, the hidden weight of her love.
May your name appear on the honor roll.
May your future be brilliant.
Every beautiful phrase a high school student could imagine for someone's future.
She had given all of them to him.
Only when the blue-light invisible ink pen was shone across the paper did the girl's most deeply buried secret finally emerge.
It said:
"This year I can't use Christmas Eve as an excuse to sneak you an apple for your birthday anymore."
"Maybe I'll never get another chance."
"But that's okay."
"After I say this, I'll do my best to tell myself not to keep thinking about you."
"Yu Jiashu, happy eighteenth birthday."
"I'll always be somewhere you can't see, wishing you peace, happiness, and everything your heart desires fulfilled."
Signed, 71. Summer, 2015.
Years flowed past in an instant.
The once-clean white paper had yellowed around the edges.
Words that had never expected to be seen by anyone slowly emerged from hiding at last.
Finally touched by daylight.
Seven years later, in the alley just outside the walls of No.1 High School, that quiet, reserved girl stood before him.
Behind her stretched endless lines of glowing city lights.
The winter wind itself seemed to pause for her.
Qi Yao stood there, her silhouette so thin it seemed as though she might shatter.
Her nose was red from the cold.
Looking slightly helpless, she tore her gaze away from the letter in his hand.
A tidal wave surged through her chest, slowly swallowing her whole.
He had seen it.
A secret that had never seen the light of day, now laid bare. And with it came a nearly unbearable sense of embarrassment and retreat.
Wind moved through the space between them, scattering the warm mist of their breath.
Their eyes met.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Then Qi Yao blinked slowly.
Her throat felt dry. She forced herself to smile, and spoke softly.
"Actually... I haven't been waiting for you all this time..."
But the words stopped there. Her heart seized, as if a fist had closed around it.
The man stood beneath the eaves, warm light falling mottled across his face. His usual cool, detached expression had been put away. His eyes held only solemnity, and something faintly bitter beneath it. He looked at her in silence.
Qi Yao wasn't familiar with that expression.
Very few people had ever looked at her that way. And yet, somehow, she understood immediately.
It was heartache.
Like seeing the seams where a shattered porcelain vase had been pieced back together.
Like discovering the scars hidden beneath flawless skin.
Like finding a rose branch bleeding green beneath its petals.
All the complicated, broken things she carried seemed to have been effortlessly mended in his gaze.
And within that gaze, Qi Yao saw something else.
Cherishment.
All the improvised words she'd prepared to salvage a little dignity, scattered to the wind.
Qi Yao's eyes rimmed red. She parted her lips, her voice trembled in the winter air.
"...But I can't fall in love with anyone else."
I haven't been waiting for you all this time.
I just can't fall in love with anyone else.
Her brows drew together slightly. The outer corners of her eyes were crimson, moisture shimmered there like shattered glass, lost and confused. Her voice trembled at the edges.
"Do you know that, Yu Jiashu?"
"No one is like you."
Not the boy who once ran three streets for someone he'd never even met.
Not the person who always kept clear boundaries and never played with people's feelings.
No one.
Back in high school, standing in the corner watching him surrounded by people, shining brightly beneath everyone's attention, she had once believed their paths would never cross.
At the time, she had comforted herself with a reluctant hope.
Maybe graduation would fix everything.
But after graduation, after entering an industry that looked glamorous from the outside and discovering just how complicated and messy it really was, his worth only shone brighter.
There had always been something sincere about him.
Something genuine.
Something passionate.
Time had never worn it away.
It had been there ten years ago, and it was still there now.
Now, standing before him, something inside her breached like a levee. At last, red-eyed, red-nosed, she said
"You never knew I liked you."
Tears gathered and spilled over. One drop after another.
Her voice cracked with sobs powerful enough to make a listener's chest ache.
Shaking in the cold wind, she finally spoke the words she had buried for years.
"But all these years, I've always, always..."
Before she could finish.
A low sigh came from the air, light and slow, threaded with wind, carrying a sadness too deep for words.
Yu Jiashu's Adam's apple shifted. He seized her slender wrist and pulled gently.
The familiar scent of cedar and mint enveloped her all at once. She fell into his embrace.
The unfinished confession stopped abruptly.
The man's eyes were lowered, he held her tightly. One arm wrapped around her narrow shoulders, the other spread gently across the back of her head in silent comfort.
The scent of cedar and mint was everywhere, right there in her breath.
His warmth pressed against her seized heart. His broad, solid embrace enclosed her completely.
He held her so tightly it felt like their two living hearts were beating in resonance through skin and flesh.
As though this was the only way he could truly understand the pain she had carried through all those hopeless years.
When Yu Jiashu finally spoke, his voice was slightly hoarse. As though every word carried traces of unresolved sorrow.
Turning his head slightly, he brushed a comforting kiss against her smooth forehead.
Then he said quietly,
"I know."
Her soft hair brushed against his fingers, leaving behind a faint fragrance.
Yu Jiashu's chest tightened painfully.
That day, when he'd gone to the west side of the city to pack up her things, his friend had asked what he planned to do.
The truth was, he hadn't known.
She had never told him any of these details.
It was as though liking him was entirely her own affair.
As though the protagonist of her story had never needed to know.
Wine, aged for years, becomes precious. How much more so this pure, sincere love, in a world where everything is fleeting and ever-changing.
When Jiang Jinghan asked him about it that day, he had believed that feelings accumulated over so many years had turned into a treasure too precious to treat lightly.
Any rash response would have felt disrespectful.
But now he didn't want to wait anymore.
The girl had poured her everything into wishing him well, while trying her utmost not to disturb him, standing from afar and watched as the distance between them grew wider and wider.
For him to delay even one second longer would be trampling on her sincerity.
A long time passed. When he felt the slight trembling of her shoulders against him cease, Yu Jiashu let his lashes fall and released a heavy breath.
Then he pulled back, bent at the waist, and lowered his head to meet her eyes, his gaze focused and intent.
Slowly, he said,
"Maybe you think not being able to like anyone else all these years is a regret."
"But Qi Yao, there's something you probably don't know."
"In over twenty years of living, I've never known what it feels like to be lucky."
At that, he paused and let out a breath, then said quietly,
"Now I do."
His thumb brushed away the tears at the corner of her eye. Yu Jiashu looked at her, each word weighted with gravity, "I'm not as good as you think I am. Sometimes I'm selfish too."
"Like right now, I'm glad I kept this letter. And even more than that… I'm even more glad that you haven't liked anyone else"
Silence settled between them.
Qi Yao's long lashes were wet, trembling faintly as she looked up at him.
Her face was small and delicate. The rims of her eyes were red, so was the tip of her nose. Tear tracks shimmered faintly against her cheeks, there was a fragility about her that made his chest ache.
"Qi Yao."
His dark lashes lowered slightly. Looking at her, his expression almost solemn as he spoke.
"At this moment, I am very, very grateful for your affection."
The letter remained loosely held in his hand.
As carefully as though it were a treasure nobody else in the world knew existed.
Like that day, he stood where the wind came from. What he gave her was the warmth and safety of an embrace.
And the lingering sweetness that filled the air.
Maybe a long time has passed, maybe it was only an instant.
Qi Yao heard him call her.
"Qi Shiyi."
Yu Jiashu lowered his gaze. The usual careless ease had disappeared from his expression. Tiny reflections of light flickered within his eyes like pieces of a fallen galaxy.
Quietly, he asked,
"Replying to your letter ten years later...would that be too late?"
Everything around them seemed to drift away. The vendors' calls rose and fell in the distance.
The world seemed to hold only the two of them.
Standing beneath the eaves amid the warmth and bustle of a winter evening.
Qi Yao could hear her own heartbeat pounding wildly in her chest. The wind roared beside her ears.
A long moment later, she curved her reddened eyes.
"...No, it's not too late."
The secret crush she had carried through her girlhood had finally stepped into the light.
Ten years, twenty years, thirty years.
As long as there was a reply.
It would never be too late.
---
Author's Note:
We finally made it here.
I'm not sure how everyone feels reading this chapter, but personally, I got stuck on this section for about three days. Every time I opened the document, I'd just tear up in front of my computer.
This scene, along with another scene near the end of the novel, was pretty much my entire motivation for writing this story. I just wanted so badly for her, for them, to have their happy ending.
Not everyone gets to see their dreams come true.
But Yao-mei does.
The BGM for this chapter should probably be When the Grapes Are Ripe. I put the playlist on Weibo, feel free to check it out if you're interested, @ζ ι₯η‘δΊ.
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