Chapter 28

She scrambled to get up, but the couch was too soft to push against. For a moment, Hu Xiu’s hand was on Diao Zhi Yu’s chest, and the sensation of his heartbeat through her palm made time seem to stop.

This feeling had nothing to do with Qin Xiao Yi. The cliché intimacy between men and women in dramas had always seemed fake to her, but now, feeling the heartbeat of a boy she liked, the connection between her palm and his heart was dizzying. Her heart raced, the breath they shared was close and real.

Whether it was the novelty of the exploration or the safety he offered, it was all deeply intoxicating.

In the end, Diao Zhi Yu pushed her up as if she were a dumbbell. She was lifted off the couch, her arms spread out like wings, her loose sweater letting in a gust of wind. It was cold enough to make her sneeze, and her hair fell all over Diao Zhi Yu’s face, blocking his view. When he let go, Hu Xiu was pushed back into his arms and sat up.

She could feel every muscle in her body tighten, the warmth of his chest against hers, and the forceful sound of his breathing.

The whole action took less than a minute. When they finally looked at each other, her legs were on either side of Diao Zhi Yu’s waist, held tightly in his arms. He stared into her eyes, seemingly smiling but not quite.

It seemed like she could feel something else, too. Her face flushed, she jumped off him, “How long have you been sleeping here?”

“Not long—since you all came in.”

Hu Xiu was still trying to remember what she had just said, while Zhao Xiaorou, still holding her phone, took videos and laughed uncontrollably. “Diao Zhi Yu, you’ve been hiding here without making a sound, just waiting for this moment, huh? This physical contact with Hu Xiu, either a princess carry or sitting in a lotus position, you’re a professional, huh? Feeling secretly pleased?”

Hu Xiu had already stood up and hidden in the back of the storage room. She could hear Diao Zhi Yu’s calm reply, “I came straight here after my night shift. The empty shots are for the outdoor scenes, didn’t you see?”

“Damn, the tripod was hidden behind the counter, secretly filming?”

“It’s just an empty shot, no sound, I set it up at four in the morning—Li Ai gave me the key.”

Zhao Xiaorou’s voice became sharp, “Li Ai! How many people did you give keys to?”

“Only you three, I guarantee it.”

Hu Xiu didn’t hear any more of the conversation. She was hurriedly plugging in the hairdryer, fumbling with it several times before finally getting it right. The power was too low, and the cord too short, so she had to squat down to dry her hair. The noise in her head resonated in her skull, her hair tangled without conditioner, making it worse than if she hadn’t washed it at all.

Her hair started to form clumps on top of her head, and Hu Xiu tugged at it for a long time, frustrated, her bangs covering her eyes, becoming even more irritable. What an absurd situation.

And then came the panic. The past that had once paralyzed her in nightmares returned—

After her breakup, moving to the suburbs felt like recovering from a serious illness. The most she did was sleep, dreaming that she was wearing a sweater, walking in the rain, trying to find her fiancé. When she found him, she grabbed him forcefully, and there was a zipper on his skin. She unzipped it, revealing her own heart, beating red and bloody.

She begged him, “Look at me, I’m not like my mother, I’m not as worthless as you think,” but he just smiled lightly and walked away, always saying the same thing: “Let’s just forget it.”

Over time, the people in her dreams vanished, and she couldn’t remember her fiancé’s face. Her self-confidence faded, and she searched for living creatures in the wilderness, trying to find a similar figure in the crowd.

It didn’t matter if their appearance was similar, as long as they could see her heart, which was close to stopping—just a glance would do.

That nightmare lasted a long time and became a part of her. The abandoned things in the rainy night, the helpless mother, and the fiancé who mocked her with a smile, along with the self-respect trampled on the edge of the trash, never left her. They resurfaced whenever she found something worth cherishing, blocking her heart and paralyzing her.

Finally, after seeing Qin Xiao Yi on the Snowpiercer, she had almost forgotten about it. Now, this thought suddenly emerged, freezing her in place.

Seeing her so tense, Diao Zhi Yu might have thought of her as a ridiculous spectator, hastily trying to maintain her image after seeing a few familiar scenes... as insignificant as grass.

“Where has Hu Xiu gone?” It was Li Ai.

“I’ll go find her...” Zhao Xiaorou took a step forward in her high heels, but seemed to be stopped, and the footsteps behind her came and went. When they returned, a hand reached over her head and gently touched Hu Xiu’s hair, holding a bottle of something. “Keep the blow dryer in one spot, your hair’s going to burn—don’t be so harsh on yourself.”

It smelled like coconut oil. Diao Zhi Yu’s hand rested on Hu Xiu’s head, gently rubbing through her hair, “This is the only edible coconut oil we have here, but at least it won’t dry out and become frizzy. The only downside is... coconut fibers might fall from your hair later.”

After a brief pause, Diao Zhi Yu sighed. “Stop squatting, sit down. You don’t always have to be so tense, I’m not going to bite you.”

She sat... on Diao Zhi Yu’s lap.

Her neck and shoulders were still stiff, and the blow dryer was gently taken from her hands by Diao Zhi Yu. His fingers softly slid across her scalp, occasionally encountering tangles, which he calmly untangled with one hand while supporting her roots with the other, like a professional stylist.

Hu Xiu’s thoughts were guessed by him: “You think I’m experienced in these things, don’t you? Please, I did my own styling backstage for performances, encountering issues like this is perfectly normal. I’ve even used dish soap to wash my hair before. It was long, and my hair turned into a bunch of straw.”

She had even combed long hair. “So, what did you do later?”

“Tied it at the back of my head, though it did make it look like I had more hair.”

“Then... how did you do the curls on the Snowpiercer?”

“With a curling iron. These are the tricks girls do, I understand them better than you.”

Hearing this, Hu Xiu was quite intrigued. Unexpectedly, Zhao Xiaorou didn’t come in to interrupt, and Hu Xiu quietly leaned against the wall, waiting for Diao Zhi Yu to finish drying her hair. The coconut oil wasn’t in a large quantity, but it was fragrant and made her stomach a little hungry.

Hu Xiu didn’t know how to explain the sensation—whether it was nervousness or the pounding of her heart—but she was sure she wouldn’t mistake it. Whenever he walked by, whether it was from behind or in the distance, she could tell it was Diao Zhi Yu. The subtle feeling she had was like being in the spotlight on a single stage, only when he was near could she feel it.

Her fear hadn’t dissipated, and she had no idea where to start with her story. No one would want to hear a tale of being abandoned by someone.

Just as the power cut off, before Hu Xiu could thank him, Diao Zhi Yu placed the blow dryer on the shelf and turned to leave. “I really can’t stand the coconut smell. Sorry, I need to go wash my hands.”

The back-and-forth came too quickly...

Physical contact was like the devil. When Hu Xiu walked out, Diao Zhi Yu was skillfully replacing the camera’s battery, swapping the card, and importing footage.

On the left side of Adobe Premiere, the footage was spread out, and the cursor moved as the audio tracks were quickly erased. He sat at the edge of the bed, reviewing the clips carefully.

There was no footage of Hu Xiu and Zhao Xiaorou in the video, and when they entered, it was cut out. He sped up the footage, showing the same scenery at different times, with only the changes in light and shadow remaining.

As for the conversation in the coffee shop, the various speculations he had, and what Zhao Xiaorou said about planning for the long term—he wasn’t interested in any of it.

Li Ai stood nearby with his cane, dressed in a gray hoodie and jeans, looking like a teenager. The two men were focused on discussing ideas by the floor-to-ceiling window, which moved Hu Xiu, making her feel touched.

Zhao Xiaorou sat next to Hu Xiu, letting out a soft sigh. “It’s like the love lives of the four of us. Someone will always appear in your life, and you genuinely like them, but the timing is just off, and you can’t quite figure out how to reach their heart. Have you seen Suzhou River? It’s about a love that disregards the world’s judgments, how many people get to experience that kind of gift? I guess I really don’t have fate with him.”

She was talking about Li Ai. Hu Xiu stared at Diao Zhi Yu by the window, his chair slowly turning, his gaze meeting hers for a moment, before casually shifting away. Hu Xiu opened her laptop to check emails, opening the translation document and multitasking, constantly worried that the opportunity might slip away.

Suddenly, she received a call from her senior who needed her to urgently help with a remote translation meeting.

“Little Hu, I’ve gone back to Yangzhou, I really can’t make it back, but I’ll send you the connection link.”

Hu Xiu put down the phone, and Li Ai looked at the time. “I’ll give you the seat by the window, the signal is better there. Recently, the upstairs hasn’t been paying for the broadband, so you’ll have to make do with the store’s internet.”

The door was marked as closed, and the sound of Hu Xiu’s translation filled the quiet coffee shop.

It was rare for Hu Xiu to need to focus amidst her chaotic thoughts, and for a moment, she felt a bit grateful.

The content of the translation wasn’t difficult for her, and it wasn’t closely related to medicine either. The hospital leaders were discussing recent personnel exchanges with American professors.

During their lighthearted conversation, Hu Xiu overheard that Pei Zhen would be going to Boston for three months of exchange. According to the old leader, he was the best talent seen in the last ten years.

Behind her, Diao Zhi Yu wasn’t wearing headphones. He had his chin resting on his hand as he moved the mouse. Hu Xiu’s English made Zhao Xiaorou drowsy, while he stayed focused on the screen, deep in thought.

Outside of their roles, Diao Zhi Yu and she were both busy with their own work. They seemed to have no intersection, yet they unconsciously cared for each other.

After dinner, Zhao Xiaorou created a group chat with the four of them. The first message in the group was a video of Hu Xiu falling on top of Diao Zhi Yu. Her face turned bright red. “Zhao Xiaorou, delete it!”

“Why are you afraid? It’s just an accident between friends. Delete it? What, do you have a guilty conscience?”

She glanced at Diao Zhi Yu, whose side profile was expressionless, slowly making eye contact with her before giving a slight smile. His narrow eyelids were somewhat irritating. “Guilty conscience?”

“Letting someone as unlucky in love as Hu Xiu practice with friends isn’t a bad idea,” Li Ai said unexpectedly.

“Don’t think you can escape. What’s up with your leg lately?”

“It’s nothing, just some pain from the rainy weather. I need support when standing.”

“If something really happens, you should tell us. Don’t handle it alone. I can help with money, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Li Ai just smiled in response. “What could possibly be wrong?”

Bored, Hu Xiu casually slid through her Moments, and saw a post of herself translating by the window. It had different compositions, all captioned with “I’s.”

When she refreshed the feed to scroll again, it disappeared. Hu Xiu looked up at Diao Zhiyu, who had finished his meal and was looking at a selection of plays on the bookshelf, seemingly indifferent.

Everything had to be pretended as if she didn’t know; it was hard to figure out.

By the time the group dispersed, it was already midnight. Throughout the day, no one had mentioned Ning Zechen. Diao Zhiyu was carrying the cake Li Ai had given him, along with a DSLR and a laptop, adamant that Hu Xiu didn’t need to help.

Her hair still smelled of coconut, and thinking about how Diao Zhiyu disliked the scent, Hu Xiu shifted away slightly. But within a few steps, he was already closer again—quite clingy.

“I’m going to start playing Feng Youjin next month.”

“Hm?”

“Qin Xiaoyi has a new actor now, you’ve seen him. I’ve changed roles to play Feng Youjin and Li Rong, so I won’t be playing Qin Xiaoyi anymore.”

“Why?”

“It’s nothing, I changed roles voluntarily.”

“Your Qin Xiaoyi was really good. I actually went to see it just for Qin Xiaoyi.”

Diao Zhiyu didn’t speak, quietly walking beside her, seemingly in deep thought. Hu Xiu didn’t understand what she might have said wrong. Did she think she liked him just because of Qin Xiaoyi?

After two minutes, Diao Zhiyu’s tone was calm, more serious than before: “Do you think I’m only liked because I play Qin Xiaoyi?”

Hu Xiu stopped, not understanding what he meant.

“I actually don’t really want to play Qin Xiaoyi anymore. It’s a role that you can just play as yourself.

Now I’ve found a way of acting that’s more like being myself, without having to act too much.

After a while, it’s hard to break out of a comfort zone, there’s no real breakthrough. Sometimes I’ll play Li Rong or Feng Youjin, but they’re not quite like me.”

Hu Xiu smiled: “I thought it was because you’d played Qin Xiaoyi so much that you became like this. I didn’t realize this was your true self.”

“Mutual success, I guess. But I do want to try other roles, like doing pure drama.

Doing NPCs in small theaters, the motivation is still different. I do enjoy this profession, but compared to real actors, this is still too commercial, and... a bit too mainstream—if I keep playing like this, it’ll wear me out.”

He had an unfamiliar aura about him, and Hu Xiu tried hard to sense someone like her in the darkness, but she didn’t dare agree too quickly.

Every time she learned a little more about Diao Zhiyu, he always revealed new aspects of himself—personalities she hadn’t encountered before, like flickering light spots in front of her eyes, until her vision gradually adapted.

She was scared of this unfamiliarity, afraid she might not be able to handle it. If she said too much, it would expose her ignorance, or...

If they didn’t connect, the distance between them would widen. And that fear hadn’t disappeared; just saying the words “Feng Youjin” felt like he was pushing her away, as if she could never see the cold yet passionate Qin Xiaoyi again. She didn’t think she was ready for that.

November 17th, only three days left, and her schedule was packed. She wouldn’t have time to see Qin Xiaoyi again for the last time.

She mumbled, “I always wanted to selfishly watch Qin Xiaoyi, maybe I put you in a fixed frame too. I feel a bit sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. Acting occasionally is fine. But after the fixed schedule changes, just wanted to let you know.

Lately, I’ve been visiting REGARD a lot when I have free time. It’s not like we only need to meet on the Snowpiercer.”

Hu Xiu was still frozen. After a long pause, his footsteps suddenly stopped.

“Hey…”

“Hm?”

“There’s one thing I’ve never understood, and I want to ask you. Why would you dare to provoke me in the play, but now... you’re not afraid?”