Farewell to Li Xian

That familiar sense of unease rose again on the way back to Jingsheng. Just after she entered the residential complex, Qin Qingyan suddenly stopped and glanced behind her. The bustling street was ablaze with lights, bright as day; the people coming and going all seemed lighthearted and happy.

Qin Qingyan turned back and headed for the elevator. Such a strange feeling would not come without cause; she understood that Zheng Jingteng had always been nearby, lurking in some corner, watching their lives.

When she got home, took a shower, and lay down on the bed, she had something on her mind, and the whole person no longer looked as spirited as usual. Yan Yue noticed it as soon as she came in.

The two of them leaned against the headboard and, for a long while, neither of them spoke.

Yan Yue took Qin Qingyan’s hand and held it tightly, looking at her with concern. “You hardly ever seem like this. What happened?”

Qin Qingyan looked at Yan Yue, then leaned against her chest with unconcealed dependence, drawing a deep breath before slowly letting it out.

After a long while, she said, “These past few days, I keep feeling uneasy. Maybe I’m worrying too much, but...”

A person’s instincts did not come from nowhere.

“You mean Zheng Jingteng?” Yan Yue asked.

“Mm. I keep feeling like he’s right around us, watching us live our lives,” Qin Qingyan said.

Yan Yue lay down with her, pulling her tightly into her arms and patting her back to soothe her restlessness.

“Don’t think too much about it. The police are still after him, and now that the technology is so advanced, maybe it won’t be long before he’s caught,” Yan Yue said softly.

Breathing in that familiar scent, Qin Qingyan did feel quite a bit more at ease. She pressed herself against Yan Yue as tightly as she could, leaving no gap between them. What she was really afraid of was not Zheng Jingteng coming after her, but him hurting Yan Yue. The hard-won happiness she had finally found did not want to be ruined by anyone.

That night, she rarely had a nightmare.

During these days, Bai Ruo had been taking on role after role and filming herself to exhaustion. To outsiders, it seemed as if she wanted to stay in the film crew all day long. Of course the staff were happy to see an industrious, popular actress, but Bai Ruo had been like this for more than half a month straight; even the sturdiest body could not withstand such high-intensity work. She was practically tormenting herself.

Then, one day, she suddenly returned to normal, and both her agent and the director breathed a sigh of relief. Bai Ruo knew how others had been looking at her these past few days; even a few staff she used to be familiar with no longer dared to strike up a conversation with her.

And yes, she had indeed been tormenting herself. It was just that now she had finally figured things out. Being ruthless to herself was so she would no longer have the heart to think about anything involving Li Xian, or else it was perhaps a sliver of hope that Li Xian might look at her like this.

But Li Xian would never see it; she would never win the other woman’s sympathy, and there would be no response, no word of concern waiting for her.

Why bother? Life was full of excitement; she still had plenty of money, and there would be time enough to enjoy herself.

Once she understood that, there was no need to make things hard on herself anymore.

She was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other dialing a number. The call was answered quickly on the other end.

“China World / Guomao Center. Lunch is on me today. Are you free? Good, bye.” She put on her sunglasses, letting the cool wind blow through the window, her hair tousled, yet she was in an excellent mood.

Su Yan, carrying large and small bags, trailed behind the suddenly transformed Bai Ruo, miserable beyond words. “I say, Miss Bai, don’t you have your own assistant? I thought you called me to buy things. These clothes and shoes—what exactly aren’t you buying for yourself?”

Bai Ruo ignored her completely. She was standing in front of the fitting-room mirror trying on yet another dress, while the sales clerk nearby was grinning so hard her mouth practically split open, praising her nonstop.

Su Yan sighed and shook the bags, changing to a better grip. She swore she would never fall for this woman’s tricks again. A liar; a total liar.

Lunch was settled at a nearby restaurant. Su Yan threw etiquette to the wind and ate as much as she could. If she couldn’t buy anything, at least she could eat her fill. When she looked up by accident, she saw Bai Ruo propping her chin on one hand, staring fixedly at her. Su Yan choked and hiccupped, a chill running down her spine.

“What?” she said with her mouth stuffed full of chicken thigh. “You’re acting so weird it’s scary.”

Bai Ruo lowered her eyes and said nothing, leaning back in her chair.

“Susu, tell me—why am I still not happy?” Bai Ruo asked.

Compared to the Bai Ruo who had just been buying clothes and bags nonstop, she was like a completely different person now.

Su Yan swallowed the chicken in her throat. “That’s normal, isn’t it? I’ve only ever heard of money making people happy. Who says spending money makes you happy too?”

“Making money doesn’t make me happy either,” Bai Ruo said again.

“Need I point out that making money and selling your life away are two completely different things?” Su Yan said, as if Bai Ruo didn’t know.

Bai Ruo leaned toward the table, barely managing to spear a piece of beef with her fork before chewing it slowly.

After lunch, the large and small bags they’d bought were sent to a designated address, and Bai Ruo and Su Yan were preparing to leave.

As they descended the stairs, Bai Ruo glanced up absentmindedly and froze.

Su Yan had been talking for ages but got no response. She turned around irritably, about to speak, then noticed the change in Bai Ruo’s expression and followed her gaze.

It was Li Xian.

The two of them stood more than ten meters apart, staring at each other. There was too much to ask, too much to say, but they shouldn’t have; neither of them was allowed to break the rules.

The moment she saw Li Xian, what surged in Bai Ruo’s heart was not hatred but grievance. She looked away and saw the man beside her. They were a handsome and beautiful pair, perfectly matched in appearance; anyone would think they were a loving, harmonious couple.

Her gaze finally fell on Li Xian’s abdomen. Though it was not obvious, she knew there was a small life there, one that would be born in a few months; that also sealed her own hopelessness.

“I forgot to check the calendar when I went out. I already wasn’t happy about not buying anything, and now I feel as sick as if I’d swallowed a fly,” Su Yan said loudly at random, not even looking at them.

The man also noticed that something was off with Li Xian. He let his searching gaze flick back and forth between the two women, but did not dare ask more. He only needed to do what he should.

Bai Ruo lowered her eyes and gave a faint smile. To Su Yan beside her, she said, “Let’s go.”

Su Yan moved a little to the side. When they passed Li Xian and the man, she placed herself between them and did not spare them a single direct look.

The short stretch of only a few dozen meters to the entrance felt like torture. With every step Bai Ruo took, her heart was being ripped apart, aching unbearably. When she passed Li Xian, she nearly could not restrain herself from demanding why; why had she suddenly changed, why had she married a man, why was she pregnant—why, why, why!

Yet she walked past Li Xian with an expression as composed as ever, as if passing nothing more than a stranger she had never met before.

Li Xian tilted her head slightly, but did not call her back, even after they were gone. She held that posture, as if frozen in place. In the bustling lobby, she stood out all the more; from time to time, people around her cast her a curious glance, but she did not notice at all.

The man opened his mouth several times, but each time held himself back. Being stared at like this made him deeply uncomfortable.

At last, Li Xian turned in the direction Bai Ruo had gone downstairs and walked up that way for no reason anyone could tell.

On the way back, Bai Ruo did not say a single word. Su Yan looked at her several times, but didn’t know how to start.

Fortunately, at that moment, the phone rang. Su Yan felt as if she’d been spared and hurried to answer. “Hello, Sister Qingyan.”

“Sure, of course I’m fine with it... okay.” Su Yan turned to Bai Ruo. “Sister Qingyan invited us to get together tonight.”

“Just the three of us?” Bai Ruo asked.

“Yep. Yan Yue isn’t coming. We’re mainly going to talk about emotional issues; with Yan Yue there, I wouldn’t really be able to perform,” Su Yan said with a grin.

That was part of it. More importantly, they had originally wanted Bai Ruo to relax a little. If Yan Yue came too, she’d be all tender and affectionate with Qin Qingyan; seeing that would probably have the opposite effect.

Bai Ruo nodded and agreed.

That night, in the private room Qin Qingyan had booked, the table was covered with all kinds of snacks and several bottles of low-alcohol fruit wine, while multicolored lights alternated overhead, making the room feel dreamlike and hazy.

“...If we’d been brave enough to stay together back then, would the ending have been different? Would you also have had a thousand words and ten thousand words buried in a silent dream?” Su Yan sang with reckless abandon.

The alcohol content was low; it was the atmosphere that had reddened Su Yan’s eyes. A flash of tears passed through them and vanished almost at once, hidden away so quickly. She kept singing in that big, unpolished voice of hers.

Bai Ruo and Qin Qingyan sat on the carpet, leaning against the sofa, listening quietly, each carrying her own thoughts.

The singing stopped.

Su Yan took a gulp of water and choked twice, the corners of her eyes flushed red. “That’s really hard on the throat. You have to admire singers who can do three or four-hour concerts.”

“Still want to be a singer?” Qin Qingyan asked with a smile.

“Nope, nope. My life is more important,” Su Yan said, waving her hand.

“Hopeless. You should learn from me, young lady—never admit defeat, never accept fate; what I fight for is just being serious!” Bai Ruo said grandly.

Su Yan leaned back comfortably. The table was a mess; Qin Qingyan and Bai Ruo, two bona fide top-tier actresses, were actually sitting cross-legged on the floor without a shred of image, their cheeks slightly flushed.

Looking at that scene, Su Yan suddenly laughed, feeling a very good, wholly unprompted sort of warmth.

The three of them met each other’s eyes and, at the same time, all burst out laughing together.

They didn’t even know what they were laughing at, but nothing could express how they felt in that moment better than laughter.

But soon, Bai Ruo was laughing and crying at the same time.

She tilted her head back, doing her best to hold it in, and in the end gave a bitter laugh at herself for failing to control it.

“I say, Bai Ruo, is it worth it for some heartless woman? Even if you die over her, do you think she’ll turn back? And even if someone like that did turn back, would you still dare to want her?” Su Yan said.

Yes; for a woman so cold-hearted and ungrateful, did she still dare want her? But what could she do? She really, really missed Li Xian. She was just that hopeless.

She leaned against Qin Qingyan, and Qin Qingyan gently patted her back to comfort her.

Su Yan downed the drink in front of her. In truth, she understood better than anyone that love was the hardest thing to control; otherwise, how could she still have spent so many years with her heart tied to a dead person?

How foolish.

She stood up, took the microphone, and began singing loudly. Bai Ruo and Qin Qingyan followed along too. The three of them shared one microphone, taking turns line by line until they wore themselves out with singing.

In the end, only Bai Ruo was left singing a love song slowly, her voice soft and tinged with sorrow. Su Yan and Qin Qingyan watched her quietly, listening quietly to the song.

Some feelings can make a person happy, but most of them are there to make people grow. Bai Ruo had experienced both, one after the other.