Chapter 8

But Love Comes Unnoticed 

Love is sudden, like rain gently descending, but it will never be misunderstood by the audience. And at this moment, she is the protagonist.

On her first day back to real life, Hu Xiu moved her belongings to Zhenping Road. There was a bus stop right outside with direct routes to the place where Qin Shaoyi worked, just a 15-minute taxi ride away. She deliberately didn’t want to give a definite end to her unspoken affection.

She swore she had rented the place without realizing how close it was, but Zhao Xiaorou didn’t believe her. She teased Hu Xiu, saying it was to conveniently watch Qin Shaoyi at any time.

After paying one month’s rent, Hu Xiu was left with little money and needed to find work quickly. She vaguely thought that Qin Shaoyi wouldn’t like someone who was unemployed.

Qin Shaoyi, Qin Shaoyi, all day long Qin Shaoyi, he’s just an NPC who doesn’t even remember who you are.

Hu Xiu shook her head while sitting amidst piles of cardboard boxes. She had to stop daydreaming and focus on setting up her bed first.

Otherwise, the house wouldn’t feel like home, and she couldn’t keep imagining Qin Shaoyi in the cargo hold. She had to lay the groundwork for a dream where she could fall in love.

The old apartment had four households per floor, with a 30-square-meter anti-theft door opening into the space. On the left was the kitchen, on the right the bathroom. The bedroom was connected to the balcony, making the place feel open and bright.

The day Hu Xiu arrived, the weather was clear. Climbing the six floors was a bit tiring, but once she saw the sunset spilling into half of the room, she gritted her teeth and signed the lease—after all, the rainy season was approaching.

One month’s rent was enough to see Qin Shaoyi nine times—Qin Shaoyi, Hu Xiu’s unit of currency.

Before moving in, Hu Xiu had struggled to drag her bed against the outer wall and moved the sofa onto the empty balcony, leaving a large space in the center.

The desk was old, but she had begged the landlord to add it, and she assembled a new bookshelf, purchased online for 199 yuan, which could hold dozens of thick translation textbooks.

Books and notes that had almost been discarded after her broken engagement were stuffed into boxes, which the movers carried up with ropes. She felt a bit guilty and gave an extra 100 yuan.

After finishing the arrangements, the sky was still dim. She took out the movie posters she had been collecting and stuck them on the wall next to the desk. The curtains had paw prints on them—seemingly, the previous tenant had kept a cat.

By the time she finished packing, the sky was just starting to brighten. Looking out the window, she saw a cat running through the dense neighborhood trees, entering the back door of a primary school’s cafeteria—a lively morning in the city was approaching.

Hearing the Shanghai dialect and the school’s morning flag-raising broadcast, Hu Xiu suddenly felt that the extra money spent living in the city wasn’t so painful. The elevator building in a remote area often had power outages and felt like it wasn’t even in the human world.

Now, with noise around her, she felt a little more connected to the bustling life, no longer the kind of Hu Xiu who could be discarded at any moment.

It all seemed like it was thanks to Qin Shaoyi.

Zhao Xiaorou had placed a Qin Shaoyi support light board in the REGARD store, where it could be seen as soon as she entered—almost as if to remind Hu Xiu to bravely pursue love.

Every time Hu Xiu entered, she would lower her hat and sit with her back to the light board, not wanting to recall the embarrassing moments she had experienced, nor the moments when she laughed at her own back while Qin Shaoyi didn’t even remember her.

But Zhao Xiaorou didn’t see it that way: “Come on, do you really believe what Ning Zechen said? That’s obviously a chesty, brainless jerk trying to deceive you into being sad.”

“Chest big, brainless,” a very accurate description. “He wasn’t wrong though. I tested him, and he really didn’t look at my face...”

“That’s funny. Li Ai, let me ask you—” Zhao Xiaorou snapped her fingers at Li Ai, “When you meet a girl you like, do you look at her face?”

Li Ai, focused on making latte art, answered: “No...”

“A shy man would definitely not stare at a girl,” Zhao Xiaorou said, puffing on her e-cigarette, her brows almost cloud-like, “When I did missions, Qin Shaoyi didn’t even look at me once. He touches your head and does wall slams, if he doesn’t like you, that’s just brainwashing.

But since you two are acting, why not take advantage of him? He slams you into the wall, you should kiss him back. His skin is so fair and his lips so red, it must feel really nice.”

“Zhao Xiaorou, smoking is prohibited indoors. You even made a video a few days ago, saying smoking is harmful to health.”

“E-cigarettes, what’s there to fear? Iqos is hard to get, Li Ai limped to Japan to bring it back for me, how could I waste his good intentions? Besides, there are no customers in the store right now.”

Li Ai placed two cups of Furu White and red velvet cake on the table: “Does your fanbase know about your two-facedness, looking pure and cute online and having a sweet relationship with your husband, but secretly bickering and plotting behind each other’s backs?”

When Hu Xiu helped take pictures, posing in various ways, she finally responded to Zhao Xiaorou, her eyes seriously fixed on Li Ai: “This is my persona.”

On weekdays, around five or six in the evening, there were no customers in the store as it neared closing time.

Zhao Xiaorou and Hu Xiu avoided the lunch break and afternoon rush hour just to chat with Li Ai.

There were plenty of influencers like Zhao Xiaorou, perfectly groomed, in Yuyuan Road, and Shanghai had no shortage of beautiful women.

But Zhao Xiaorou really carried herself with some style, especially for those fan encounters where the photos were always radiant.

From Zhao Xiaorou, Hu Xiu learned the common tricks of internet celebrities—everything from followers to page views was inflated, and only the ability to sell products really showed one’s worth.

Zhao Xiaorou was enthusiastic about gossip, after all, only those who are privileged have the right to be sarcastic: “Last year, I watched some influencer buy 100,000 followers from 5,000, plus paid retweets and comments. Yesterday, I saw they had 1.5 million followers, signed with an MCN, published a book, got an ad deal with L’Oréal and Mercedes-Benz, and recently announced plans to start livestreaming. They’re waiting to collect placement fees. If they don’t see a return on investment, they don’t really eat, but they act all high and mighty.”

Before Hu Xiu could respond, Zhao Xiaorou had already turned the conversation to herself, giving her advice with a knowing tone: “Only you, Hu Xiu, still do things honestly and don’t brag about yourself. No wonder your salary hasn’t gone up.”

“Can we not talk about me? And... is it really that easy to become an influencer?”

“Sure, but they get criticized too. But small influencers love to fight with others, stir up drama. Do you get it? For a public account with 5,000 followers, they claim they have 80,000. For an original post, they need three other posts to clarify, refute, and ‘cleanse’ their image. They love it. This is what it means to live in the center of a storm.”

Zhao Xiaorou finally finished editing the photos: “Although fame and fortune are overrated, and we shouldn’t be too materialistic, you have to admit that once you understand the rules, life can be pretty good. Especially for influencers, with followers and data, plus a bit of controversy and hot topics, you’ll never have rent problems like you do. You’re the same—if you had just a bit more confidence and acted like you were an absolutely stunning beauty when talking to Qin Shaoyi, I wouldn’t believe he could forget you.”

“Understand the rules...?” Hu Xiu muttered, deep in thought.

“Exactly. Dating is the same. You need to have a goal, be ambitious, and aggressive. It’s much more comfortable than those who just give and expect nothing in return. Think about it—memorable love stories in classics and movies, men giving money, sincerity, humility... aren’t they all snatched away by smart women? Even a man as ordinary and dull as Wang Guangming, when he proposed to me, wasn’t it because he saw I could make money with my followers?”

She continued, not waiting for Hu Xiu’s reaction: “I don’t believe that Qin Shaoyi, who’s indifferent to rich women and beautiful women, would only pay attention to a woman like you, who’s so insecure. What does he want from you? Charity?”

Seeing Hu Xiu flustered, Zhao Xiaorou softened her tone: “The last time we made the light board was to leave an impression on him. Don’t listen to Ning Zechen’s lies. Who else would take a light board into the venue? I know it’s embarrassing, but no one else has done it. If you hide in the corner and avoid him, of course, he’ll forget you. After all, you didn’t even let him see your face.”

“I didn’t...” Hu Xiu started to protest.

“Let me ask you this. It’s been a week since we went to the Snowpiercer. Do you still remember Qin Shaoyi’s face?”

Hu Xiu fell silent. She thought for a moment, piecing together the image of his voice and figure: “I... vaguely remember.”

“Li Ai,” Zhao Xiaorou spoke again, a little sharper now, “This might sting a bit, but—do you still remember what your wife looked like?”

“Of course, I remember...” Li Ai, sitting at the next table, replied seriously as he changed guitar strings, the question seemingly no longer as painful for him.

“Do you see the difference?” Zhao Xiaorou said, pointing to Hu Xiu’s evasive eyes, “You can’t look at him, so you can’t remember his face. Hu Xiu, though it might sound cruel, making yourself unforgettable to the opposite sex comes from having distinctive qualities. Everyone is beautiful, but what matters most is standing out. Do you understand? Toss aside that obsession with marriage and think about what love is. The kind of love that’s sticky, trembling, full of desire—that’s what can make Qin Shaoyi notice you. Your runaway fiancé doesn’t deserve the word ‘love.’“

Li Ai, sitting nearby, finally smiled: “Well said.”

“Because after getting married, you realize how boring stability is. In my head, every day is filled with dirty fantasies that would be enough to drown someone, but when I see Wang Guangming, I lose all desire.” Zhao Xiaorou fished a pack of Nanjing cigarettes from her pocket. “Life... it’s so dull.”

As day quietly gave way to night in Hu Xiu’s thoughts, the air started to feel warmer, and she unknowingly ended up at the train station after taking the subway. She climbed the steps into a bustling crowd, the high-rise buildings pierced the drifting clouds and fog, and the road reflected umbrellas and hurried footsteps. She strolled aimlessly by the side of the road, content in her aimlessness, and free from responsibility.

With the plum rain season beginning, the dampness clung to her bare legs, and the sticky air seemed determined to join the night. Passing through the pedestrian underpass, she reached the narrow street where Qin Shaoyi worked.

She hadn’t brought an umbrella. Strands of hair fell around her face, which she tucked behind her ear, her gaze fixed on the emergency exit door. The mall had closed.

If the schedule was correct, Qin Shaoyi would come out through that door after finishing the final performance.

The damp air and the fine rain seemed intent on embracing the night, indifferent to the people hurriedly walking in the rain and the unprotected Hu Xiu whose vision was blurred by the water.

Her long hair traced the curve of her collarbone, then rested on her chest, the rain merging with the orange sweater she wore.

After some time, Hu Xiu wasn’t sure what she was waiting for, but she wouldn’t be foolish enough to wait for the sticky, drenched love Zhao Xiaorou spoke of.

A transparent umbrella appeared above her head. When Hu Xiu looked up in a daze, she stumbled back in surprise. It was Qin Shaoyi.

He was looking at his phone, his voice hoarse: “It’s late. Is it hard to get a cab? Let me call one for you.”

Behind them, a female player greeted him: “Minister Qin, is your girlfriend picking you up after work? She’s all wet, you’re being too much!”

Once the greeting was exchanged, the world returned to quiet. Qin Shaoyi held the umbrella while his other hand pulled out a tissue. Gently, he wiped it over Hu Xiu’s forehead and eyebrows, giving her a chance to see him clearly.

Unlike the character of Qin Shaoyi in the drama, he casually displayed a gentleman’s manners, no longer teasing her, politely letting her dry off, and turned his face away without looking at her.

On the way to catch the bus, Hu Xiu wiped away the tears that had slipped out beneath the tissue covering her gaze, thinking, please, slow down, just a little slower.

Hu Xiu had once seen a rehearsal of Waiting for Godot in her drama club. At that time, she found the scene boring, two people squatting in a sparsely decorated setting, the monotonous dialogue making her drowsy.

Now, years later, watching Qin Xiao Yi, who remained expressionless yet appeared ambiguous because of the damp raindrops, Hu Xiu understood. Waiting for Godot was boring because it depicted a scene where nothing was going to happen. Waiting for someone who was never coming is a philosophical issue, an absurd drama, unrelated to love.

But if someone were to pass by and see this scene, adjusting their angle to hide Qin Xiao Yi’s hand holding the phone, and only capturing him with his eyes gently lowered under the umbrella and herself, soaked and startled, her tense nerves touched with emotion, grievance, longing, jealousy, and affection…

All these feelings, drenched in the air, would unfold, and it would become the most touching scene in an art film. The composition in the frame, with the night, buildings, lights, and people in neat order, would convey that love is sudden, like rain falling slowly, yet unmistakable to the audience.

And in that moment, she was the female lead.