Chapter 14

Hu Xiu, who was naturally sentimental, had always believed that people could experience moments of falling into fate, just like falling into an abyss.

She had gone through what could be considered the terrifying phases of life, but that was just hitting rock bottom—

When traveling the smooth road and reaching a low point, it felt unbearable, but it wasn’t directly related to fate. Now, standing in the dark, unable to move, there was a voice in her heart constantly saying: this is it.

Walking the tightrope and feeling weightlessness, the fear and strangeness climbed up her bones, but at the same time, she was excited beyond control—a sensation not everyone could appreciate.

Someone was walking toward them in the dark. Qin Xiaoyi gently took a step back and shielded her. Hu Xiu was still in the process of falling, protected by Qin Xiaoyi, as if they were both walking the tightrope for love.

The bright, cheerful voice of a sunny guy, probably one of the men who came with the Shanghai woman, called out, “Big brother, let her go this time. Next time, I won’t be so polite.”

After confirming the area was safe, Qin Xiaoyi turned to the side: “You should leave now. You can’t hide here much longer.”

Hu Xiu reluctantly stepped out, cautiously glancing around. “It’s all your fault, your voice is so magnetic—whether you speak softly or loudly, it’s highly recognizable. And you’re too skinny.”

“Are you complimenting me?”

“I’m saying you lack a sense of security.” Her heart was brimming with joy. “Look at me here, Minister Qin, even with a knife, I’ll win. Last time, you said I was stupid.”

“You’re certainly smart.” Qin Xiaoyi’s smile deepened in the dark.

“Next time you come, will you still recognize me?”

“Maybe...”

After running out from behind Qin Xiaoyi, she reached the main road of Rongcheng. Only she and Zhao Xiaorou remained alive in the whole arena.

Zhao Xiaorou was also surprised that the final battle was to eliminate her closest friend, but she wasn’t planning to lose.

Everyone’s coating was shining, and even Li Ai, who rarely showed excitement, cheered, “Xiu, go for it, you’re the only one who can win against her here.”

Hu Xiu looked at Zhao Xiaorou, who seemed determined. She felt a bit conflicted. She wasn’t the type to betray friends just to win, not even in the game.

Throughout the seven rounds of the Snowpiercer, she had been deceived almost every time, simply because she was too kind.

Now, remembering the bold words she had exchanged with Qin Xiaoyi, she gathered her courage, thinking that betraying her friend could only happen this once in the game, just to win for Qin Xiaoyi.

Suddenly, someone shouted, “Hu Xiu, Zhao Xiaorou has something to ask you—who is your boyfriend?”

Wang Guangming pointed at Qian Jinxin and then glanced at Qin Xiaoyi, smiling, “Who should be cheering for you now? Minister Qin, or our real boyfriend?”

“Shut up, Wang Guangming, he’s not her boyfriend.” Zhao Xiaorou frowned and blurted out.

Qian Jinxin stood nearby. Hu Xiu felt a bit nervous. Since Qin Xiaoyi remembered her, she could leave any explanations for the next time she came to the Snowpiercer.

Instead, she felt a bit proud of being the protagonist—if she stepped back and looked at the scene from a distance, it was like a dramatic life-or-death showdown from a Chinese historical drama, with a group of people standing around, one in a red dancer’s outfit, the other in a blue qipao, each holding a knife, and the lighting and music all on point—an unforgettable scene for a TV drama.

Taking advantage of Zhao Xiaorou’s distraction, Hu Xiu lightly slashed Zhao Xiaorou’s clothes with the knife, just enough to activate the coating.

She looked up at Qin Xiaoyi. This was her first time winning until the end in the Snowpiercer, but she was also a bit worried—she didn’t want Qin Xiaoyi to think she was the kind of person who would betray her friends.

Zhao Xiaorou threw her knife to the ground with a clatter: “Wang Guangming, I’ve had enough of you, I want a divorce!”

The scene fell silent. Everyone looked at each other, and Hu Xiu stood frozen, unsure of what to do next.

Wang Guangming seemed unphased, even a bit impatient. “Stop making a scene. Whatever you’re upset about, we can talk at home.”

“We’ll talk right here. I can’t take it at home anymore. As for Hu Xiu, it has nothing to do with you, so stop staring. The show’s over!”

“Have you gotten cocky? Are you divorcing me because of Hu Xiu?”

“I’m doing this for myself!”

“She’s playing both sides, juggling men both inside and outside the drama. And now you say you’re getting a divorce to hide her? What do you want?”

“Oh—what do I want? Even Dai Peini doesn’t know what I want! But you, how dare you keep pretending? You act like everything’s fine, yet you’re the one with all the dirt. Who gave you the courage, Liang Jingru?”

Zhao Xiaorou tossed her dancer’s shawl aside, “Wang Guangming, isn’t it tiring to keep acting like we’re a loving couple? Isn’t it fun to deceive fans?”

Qian Jinxin was also confused, glancing around before stepping in to mediate: “You two are married, how can you argue like this in public? And women should be gentle and obedient to their husbands, you shouldn’t make him lose face in front of others.”

“Shut up!” Zhao Xiaorou snapped, “I’ve tolerated you for a long time. Just because Hu Xiu respects you, it doesn’t mean I won’t call you out.”

“Where did you come from, huh? What page are you on in the Classic of Mountains and Seas, what episode of Journey to the West, what chapter of Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio? If this is a murder mystery game, it’s set in the 1930s Republic of China, in 1936, women were already liberated, do you get it? What, you still have bound feet? If you say one more word, I swear I’ll twist your head off. Do you believe me?”

“You... how dare you speak like that?” Qian Jinxin wanted to continue reprimanding, but he was stunned by Zhao Xiaorou’s rapid-fire barrage.

No one could provoke Zhao Xiaorou without facing her wrath. Once she started, she would completely obliterate the other party: “I’m talking about you. And you, Wang Guangming, the divorce isn’t over. Don’t use Hu Xiu as a shield to frustrate me. Hu Xiu and I have been sisters for almost ten years. Even if there are relationship issues, it’s not for you to bring up.”

The scene became chaotic, resembling a ruined performance. No one left, and the entire main street of Rongcheng was filled with people.

Wang Guangming, for once, wasn’t acting like the loyal husband; it seemed he was genuinely angry. He knew that in this immersive theater, there were no phones, and what was happening now would remain unknown to anyone else.

He continued to threaten Zhao Xiaorou: “You think I don’t know your little game? You befriended Hu Xiu because she’s poor, ordinary-looking, and pathetic, with no talents to compare to you. You like having someone like her as your underling, the savior to your empire, right?”

Li Ai didn’t move forward, but his cane was already pointed at Wang Guangming’s chest. Someone approached the crowd— it was Qin Xiaoyi: “The game is over. Stop arguing, we need to exit in an orderly manner from the Rongcheng city gate.”

Before he finished speaking, Wang Guangming shoved him, and Qin Xiaoyi’s cheek was scratched, his waist slammed into a table corner—a loud crack echoed from the wooden table.

Hu Xiu felt a surge of anger. Of course, she knew Wang Guangming liked to bully the weak and avoid the strong. In a situation like this, even friends couldn’t fight each other, and in his eyes, the staff were just waiters, inferior beings who couldn’t be touched.

Li Ai stood by Zhao Xiaorou, blocking Wang Guangming from approaching, while other NPCs rushed to intervene: “Staff members cannot be assaulted. Please leave the premises.”

In the entire scene, Hu Xiu stood alone. She hadn’t expected that this grand performance would not only include her sweet love story but also become a moral play and action movie. Her Qin Xiaoyi had to suffer injury as well.

She couldn’t focus on whether Wang Guangming’s words were malicious or if Zhao Xiaorou’s friendship was truly fragile—she was only concerned about how bad Qin Xiaoyi looked.

By the time the curtain call came, Qin Xiaoyi’s face was bruised. She timidly asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine...”

Qin Xiaoyi didn’t look at her again.

After leaving the Snowpiercer, they split up into different paths. Hu Xiu, already changed into her clothes, waited for Zhao Xiaorou to come out. She saw Li Ai with his cousin, the teenage girl leaning on the sofa, sleepily blinking her eyes.

Teenagers weren’t interested in adults’ failed marriages; they only cared about the game ending and when their cousin would take them home.

Li Ai was still apologizing to the surrounding staff, cleaning up the mess, not paying attention to his cane.

Hu Xiu felt unusually clear-headed—there was nothing worse than seeing the person she liked hurt, her best friend on the verge of divorce, and having a public scene turn into chaos at midnight. She didn’t see any NPCs, and she felt uneasy.

Zhao Xiaorou came out of the dressing room, still fumbling with her boots, struggling to get her heels into them.

She tugged on her coat and still found time to ask about her husband: “Where’s that bastard Wang Guangming? Did he just leave? Who did he go with?”

“You’re getting a divorce and you’re still concerned about him?”

“Of course, I haven’t finished what I wanted to say. I need to find him. Tomorrow, I have to fly to Beijing for an event, and he needs to come too.”

With a sigh, she added, “Having the same job as a couple is such a hassle. At least I hired my own assistant. The itinerary and makeup schedule are all with me.”

Wang Guangming’s old rule was that no matter how much they argued, they had to resolve it the same night. But now, it seemed like he went straight to some small influencer.

Zhao Xiaorou waved at Li Ai: “Come to my place tonight, I have something to talk to you about—also, help me package up my delivery.”

In the back of Li Ai’s Audi Q7, there was always a fragrance of gardenia, the perfume his late wife liked.

A small blanket lay on the back seat, and when they got in the car, he gave it to his cousin sitting in the front. A few intersections later, she had fallen asleep.

Zhao Xiaorou held her phone, which kept vibrating like a crying baby, unable to stop.

Her attentiveness showed in the small things. She never easily answered work calls, would always send materials and videos late, and—never let her work assistant send private deliveries.

As Zhao Xiaorou said, the people who come to a small influencer’s company are there to learn things, not to babysit. There must be clear boundaries.

For Zhao Xiaorou, the Snowpiercer might have been the only time in her 24/7 life when she didn’t need to hold a phone. But Wang Guangming had ruined those three blissful hours.

The Snowpiercer was perhaps the only place she wanted to hide away, her private garden.

As the topic of the divorce came up in the car, Zhao Xiaorou’s voice was calm but decisive: “I don’t need to argue with him. We’ll divorce by agreement, split the assets evenly. I’m the influencer, he’s the behind-the-scenes planner. It’s not about him living off me.”

“Are you not going to try to salvage it?” Hu Xiu couldn’t help but ask. “Divorce might not mean much, but the breakdown of a relationship is a big deal. If you’re reluctant, we can still talk. Once the divorce happens, there’s nothing to discuss.”

“A man looking for new shoes will toss the old ones once he finds them. Right now, he just doesn’t want to walk barefoot. Do you understand? For the years we’ve been married, he’s always had affairs. He hasn’t divorced me because, out of all the flowers, no one makes more money than I do.But I won’t allow anyone to ruin my hopes for love. Don’t I deserve someone better? Hu Xiu, trust me. Getting married isn’t necessarily a good thing. You’ll be happy, but you’ll never be truly joyful. You might love your husband deeply, but you won’t always like him. After all, every day is a challenge to human nature.”

After finishing this, her phone rang. Li Ai was driving steadily, and Wang Guangming’s voice could be heard in the car.

He wasn’t furious but was calmly reasoning with Zhao Xiaorou: “Rou Rou, haven’t you made enough of a scene?”

“I didn’t make a scene. I just want a divorce.”

“You and I don’t have to go as far as divorce. I really love you. All those rumors online about me cheating are lies. I’m always around you, how could I have the time for an affair?”

Zhao Xiaorou remained silent, simply pulling the strands of hair that had fallen into her sweater back onto her shoulder.

“Rou Rou, I’ve never felt that our relationship was bad. You’re considerate, kind, and hardworking. I know all of that.

That live broadcast, the audio was leaked online, and a lot of people are calling me a scumbag.

But really, separating would be bad for you too. Now netizens are so harsh, and it’s tough to land a good brand after a divorce. Don’t you remember how much the ad spots cost for Double 11?”

“Yes, both of us are cash cows.”

“Stop being sarcastic. I only suggested doing a murder mystery event because I saw your friends liked it, and I thought you needed a break. As for Hu Xiu and the NPC being so flirtatious, I didn’t like it, so I helped a buddy out.”

“Forget it, Wang Guangming. We’ll meet in Beijing tomorrow. Let’s rest today and play the loving couple tomorrow.”

After hanging up, the lights and shadows outside the car shifted. Zhao Xiaorou sighed and wrote on the car window: “Sorry, I’m so pathetic. I’ve ended up like this. I feel like a failure.”

In the dead of night, dressed in a yellow sweater, she looked fragile, like a wilting rose. Hu Xiu reached out to hold her hand, but her fingers, which had retracted, were damp—she was crying.

The long night felt endless, and Li Ai’s voice was very calm: “Zhao Xiaorou, you still have us.”

The word “us” was almost inaudible. Zhao Xiaorou, still holding her phone to reply to messages, took quite a while before responding: “Li Ai, if you always remain my backup, I’ll lose all my boundaries.”

Li Ai, noncommittal, just drove deeper into the dark night.