Starlight Descends - 75
Echoes
The next morning.
The eight o'clock alarm barely had time to ring once before it was silenced.
The bedroom was still dim, and through the haze of sleep, Qi Yao felt the person beside her slowly sit up.
The warmth she'd been holding slipped away. Instinctively, she reached out, slender fingers closing gently around his arm.
A silent plea for him to stay.
The air was still for a moment.
Two seconds later, she was rewarded with an embrace.
Yu Jiashu bent over and wrapped her lightly in his arms, murmuring beside her ear, "It's a workday. I have to go to work."
Whether she heard him or not was anyone's guess. After another pause, still with her eyes closed, she slowly loosened her grip on the corner of his shirt.
A faint rustle followed, then a soft kiss landed on her forehead.
The room returned to silence.
Qi Yao's internal clock was always precise.
Despite waking several times, the nighttime interlude and the morning's activity hadn't substantially changed anything. She remained asleep until half past eight before finally opening her eyes.
After washing up, she found the glass of milk Yu Jiashu had warmed for her waiting on the breakfast counter.
She settled onto the stool, poured herself a glass, and began spreading jam on a slice of toast. Only after she'd spread it evenly and neatly did she pick up her phone.
One casual glance, and her movements came to an abrupt halt.
The phone, forced into silence all night, had endured a bombardment. The moment the screen lit up, it lagged for a long moment.
The lock screen froze for a second, and then streams of notifications rapidly snapped back into place.
Weibo DMs, WeChat messages, missed calls…
Every social media app seemed determined to unload an entire night's worth of activity at once, filling the once silenced notification bar until there wasn't an inch of space left.
Qi Yao stared blankly.
She sat there holding her milk for several long seconds, instinctively trying to recall if she'd forgotten some important work commitment.
Nothing came to mind.
Hesitantly, her fingertip trembling slightly, she tapped into Weibo, which had the highest number of notifications.
Something this abnormal had to mean something.
She'd been browsing on her private account before bed. There was no way a hidden alt account should generate this kind of traffic.
Something must have happened.
Feeling increasingly uneasy, she tapped into the search page.
Opening up the privacy settings on her private account shouldn't have generated this much discussion, right? Had she suddenly become an A-list celebrity overnight?
She just switched agencies. If another scandal broke out now... explaining it would be a nightmare.
Her fingertip landed on the trending page.
Of the top eleven visible search terms, half were occupied by her name, stark and unavoidable. The word combinations included, but were not limited to: "relationship," "response," "fairytale love."
Her heart gave a sudden leap.
Qi Yao froze for several seconds, pressed her lips together, and clicked the first tag.
The marketing accounts were clearly veterans at chasing traffic. They spent paragraphs summarizing most of the content from Qi Yao's private account in language that said everything and nothing, then launched into elaborate speculation about the subject of those teenage diary entries.
If Qi Yao had been watching the super topic last night, she would've realized it matched the fans' conclusions almost exactly.
Half true, half exaggerated. A carefully embroidered story about a hidden first love and years of silent heartache.
Until she swiped to the fifth image.
The screenshot no longer showed her personal account. It belonged to someone else.
A simple black profile picture.
A username displayed without the slightest attempt at concealment.
[@XM Chip Researcher - Yu Jiashu]
Posted at 2:30 a.m.
Qi Yao's heart skipped violently.
In the bright clarity of morning, everything from last night suddenly clicked into place.
His unexplained absence. The faint scent of cigarette smoke mixed with the cold night air. And that strange, unmoored question.
"Can I speak freely on Weibo?"
So that was what he'd meant.
He'd seen it.
With this level of viral attention, there was no way he had just answered it with a few vague platitudes.
But what could he possibly have said?
Barely daring to breathe, her trembling fingers continued scrolling.
The man who almost never posted anything on his own initiative had left over a dozen Weibo posts, stitched together in a long image.
Each one was text, spaced minutes apart.
Late last night.
2:15 a.m.
"You have no idea how much I wish I could have seen you back then."
2:21 a.m.
"That birthday really was a happy one. The apple you left on my desk was very sweet."
2:27 a.m.
"That wasn't a dream. It was me."
2:34 a.m.
"The letter you wrote me also wished me a happy graduation."
2:40 a.m.
"I never actually liked Beijing all that much. But whenever I think of Beijing now, I think of winter sunlight, the smell of baking, and you standing in that sunlight."
"We can go to the seaside together this winter. If you're willing."
...
One after another.
As Qi Yao slowly scrolled downward, her chest tightened until it almost hurt. An unstoppable swell of fullness and aching sweetness rising within her.
Nearly ten years had passed since she'd written those awkward, painfully sincere diary entries.
She hadn't revisited once during all those years, yet now, in this moment, she recalled them with miraculous clarity.
She even knew exactly which entry he was replying to.
"Even knowing he's not looking at me. Still, my heart races at every accidental glance we share, like I'm drowning."
—"You have no idea how much I wish I could have seen you back then."
"Happy birthday. May you be safe and all your wishes come true."
—"That birthday really was a happy one. The apple you left on my desk was very sweet."
"I think I dreamed about you. You didn't even have to do anything. Just standing in the hallway looking at me somehow gave me the courage to keep facing everything.”
—"That wasn't a dream. It was me."
"Happy graduation. May your future be brilliant."
—"The letter you wrote me also wished me a happy graduation."
—"I've kept it until now."
"If I'd ever gotten to know you, I probably would've asked why you liked Beijing so much. The wind is so strong here, and even the clear skies look different from C City. Everything feels unfamiliar."
"It's a shame our paths no longer cross."
—"I never actually liked Beijing all that much. Whenever I think of Beijing now, I think of winter sunlight, the smell of fresh bread, and you standing in that sunlight."
— "We can go to the seaside together this winter. If you're willing.”
"There were two hundred and thirty-seven names between ours on the honor board."
—"Not far at all."
—"I knew you were trying your best to get closer to me."
"This is for you."
—"I received it."
By the time she reached the end, her fingers were trembling so violently she could barely hold the phone.
Tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks, blurring everything before her eyes.
She frowned and blinked. Through the slightly clearer view, she saw his final response.
It had been posted much later than all the others.
Sometime after three in the morning, this man had sat beside her, weighing every word to type this sentence.
Seventeen-year-old Qi Yao had written:
"I'm a coward."
Turning his head, Yu Jiashu had quietly watched her peaceful sleeping face for a long time.
Then, word by word, he'd answered.
"You're not."
"You're the very best. The prettiest. The bravest."
"And you'll always be the person I love most."
Every word carried a sincerity so profound that even separated by a screen, she could feel how carefully he'd treasured them.
As though every sentence had crossed the distance of years before settling, one stroke at a time, deep inside her heart.
Wasn't it just a public confession? Then he would be the one to make it.
She had been sincere enough to place her entire heart before the world.
There was no reason for him to hide behind careful wording, evasive answers, or meaningless ambiguity, forcing her to shoulder burdens she never should have carried.
No hollow pleasantries. No playing dumb. No clumsy cover-ups.
He loved her.
Openly. Honestly. Without shame.
The whole world ought to know that.
Just as seventeen-year-old Qi Yao had loved him enough to write an poem of unrequited love through a performance that astonished everyone, he might not possess the same artistic gift, but he would always meet her halfway.
He'd said it long ago. He wasn't afraid of public opinion. Praise or criticism made no difference.
He just gives her every word its echo, that's all.
For him, it wasn't anything difficult.
***
Right now, inside a conference room.
One of the two protagonists currently blowing up the trending topics sat with his eyes lowered, looking unusually cold and weary from lack of sleep.
Leaning lazily against the back of his chair, Yu Jiashu listened to the routine meeting.
Everyone from Jingfan sat properly. But some were sneaking glances at him, others were secretly checking their phones. None of them truly paying attention.
First, a mysterious girl had appeared during a video conference.
Now there had been a public confession on Weibo.
No one could possibly suppress their curiosity about their boss's personal life.
"If you don't want to work, then don't."
After asking the same question twice without receiving an answer, Yu Jiashu leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingertips twice on the desk, his tone cold and devoid of emotion.
"I didn't wake up early just to watch all of you sit here daydreaming."
Especially after someone had tried so hard to keep him from leaving that morning.
When she'd grabbed his wrist, heaven only knew how badly he'd wanted to stay.
The conference room instantly fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Reading his mood, the staff saw his displeased expression and hurriedly snapped back to attention, forcing themselves to focus on work.
Work was work. Life was life.
The two should remain separate.
Only near the end of the meeting did a soft notification sound suddenly ring out.
A brief, familiar chime.
Like a notification from some social media platform.
In that instant, the entire conference room froze for a bizarre second.
That was the Weibo notification sound.
Everyone wanted to look, but no one dared.
Their boss's biggest piece of gossip was practically sitting in front of them, and yet no one had the courage to check. Who could understand this kind of torment and internal struggle?
Yu Jiashu, however, merely paused before expressionlessly picking up his phone and unlocking it.
Lowering his lashes, his gaze drifted across the screen.
He remained still for quite a while.
Then, little by little, the chilly exhaustion surrounding him melted away.
Relaxing against the chair, he lifted his eyes toward the employees sitting rigidly upright, desperately suppressing their hunger for gossip.
A moment later, he spoke lazily. "You can look."
The final syllable carried an unmistakably relaxed drawl.
Beneath the composure, there was even the faintest trace of satisfaction he hadn't quite managed to hide.
After two seconds of exchanging glances, the crowd all hurriedly fumbled out their phones to open Weibo, and see what message could have soothed their boss's temper so completely.
The top trending topic, "Qi Yao Relationship Status," was now followed by the word "Explosive."
Clicking in, the post just sent was climbing in popularity at an uncontrollable speed.
Displayed before every pair of eyes were two simple posts.
[@XM Chip Researcher - Yu Jiashu]: “We can go to the seaside together this winter. If you're willing."
[@Qi Yao]: Reposted.
[@Qi Yao]: I'm willing.
That was another echo that had crossed the distance of time.
This time, spoken by her, for everyone to hear.
"Yes, I do."
---
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