Chapter 64: It Wasn’t About Participating or Not

It wasn’t really about competing or not.

Whether to participate or not—as long as she dragged her rationality back into focus, Chen Nian could arrive at the right answer. But over these past few days, it was a different question that had occupied her thoughts.

She was still worried that fate’s catastrophe would descend on Fang Zhi once more. Of course, all these years, not a single day had passed without that worry gnawing at her.

But when Fang Zhi called out Fang Zhizhu’s name, Chen Nian’s mind went ding, like a taut string snapping. She plunged headlong into what could only be described as a philosophical quandary.

Fang Zhi was using Fang Zhizhu’s name. She was treating Fang Zhizhu as someone else entirely—someone she cared about enough to argue over. It felt just like… Fang Zhi and Fang Zhizhu had truly parted ways.

They’d had different childhoods, different experiences. Different people had walked beside them, and they’d even developed different facets to their personalities.

Had they become two separate people?

Had Chen Nian’s meddling turned them into two separate people?

If so, did that mean the past was gone forever, impossible to reclaim? To move forward, would she have to let it all wash away like the sea erasing footprints in the sand?

Those traces that lingered only in Chen Nian’s memory.

Even after she’d spent the most agonizing ten years trying to dissolve them, they still haunted her dreams with relentless frequency—especially these last few days.

The torment left her bone-weary, made her ache at the sight of Fang Zhi, turned her limbs to leaden weights. It convinced her that human life was pitifully frail against the inexorable tide of destiny.

Yet Fang Zhi stayed glued to her side, just as Chen Nian had once shadowed her without a moment’s separation. Sensing her friend’s plummeting spirits, Fang Zhi enveloped her in a blanket of unwavering concern and care.

When she smiled, when she lifted her chin with that unshakeable confidence, when she locked eyes with Chen Nian and made those solemn promises—Chen Nian always felt tears pricking at her eyes.

It was as if every pent-up grievance had found an outlet, affirming that her desperate actions, these pilfered scraps of time, held real meaning.

“Smile for me,” Chen Nian said.

“Mm.” Without asking why, Fang Zhi obliged with a smile.

She was breathtaking like that, her lips curving into a perfect arc even in the dim glow of the movie subtitles.

“Do you hate Jiang Bailu that much?” Chen Nian asked.

Jiang Bailu was the female lead in this film. Chen Nian hadn’t come to watch it to make some pointed statement to Fang Zhi. No, she was simply sifting through old memories.

Fang Zhizhu had once been offered the script for this movie’s remake. It was a classic, a major production, but when her agent brought it to the company, not a soul backed her taking the role.

The reasons were straightforward: remaking a beloved classic invited backlash, and Jiang Bailu’s life too closely mirrored the cutthroat pursuit of fame in the entertainment industry.

She’d met a gruesome end, and whatever fate befell the actress who played her, the comparisons would be endless and merciless.

But Fang Zhizhu took the part anyway. Smiling at Chen Nian, she’d said, “I love this character. She’s brave and decisive, throwing everything into what she wants—or doesn’t. She seems trapped, but she’s truly free. Her death was fitting.”

Fang Zhizhu had meant it. She’d bulldozed through the opposition, cleared her schedule, and starred in it. The box office flopped predictably, drawing a torrent of mockery and abuse, but she’d never once regretted it.

It was the second year of their friendship. To lift her spirits, her agent had granted her three days off, and she’d dragged Chen Nian into the theater for seven secret viewings.

She laughed with Jiang Bailu, wept with her. At the credits, she’d turned to Chen Nian and declared, “I was amazing in it.”

Chen Nian’s heart had melted like clouds drifting across the sky. Clutching Fang Zhizhu’s fingertips, she’d gazed up with intimate adoration. “You were amazing.”

So now, was she starting to hate a role she’d once adored?

Starting to reject it, to distance herself as far as possible?

Chen Nian watched Fang Zhi and, right as she opened her mouth to speak, added, “If they invited you to play Jiang Bailu, would you do it?”

Fang Zhi’s eyes sparked with light. She barely let Chen Nian finish before firing back, “Of course I would.”

Chen Nian blinked, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“I don’t hate her at all. I was just saying I wouldn’t meet the same end—so don’t worry.” Fang Zhi explained, “I actually really like her. It’s a great movie, a great character: brave, decisive, going all-in for what she wants or rejects. She seems shackled, but she’s free. Her death was right for her.”

Chen Nian froze completely. “What did you say?”

“Ah, didn’t catch that? I’ll say it again.” Fang Zhi slowed her words, speaking with crystal clarity.

“I like this character. She’s brave and decisive, going all out to pursue what she wants and reject what she doesn’t. She seems shackled, but in truth, she’s free. She meets a fitting end.”

Chen Nian’s tears could no longer be held back. They surged forth in a torrent.

She covered her face and buried her head, her body shaking with sobs.

Exactly the same.

Fang Zhizhu’s affection—even if the world restarted—would remain unchanged, word for word, without the slightest alteration.

Suddenly, Chen Nian realized she no longer needed to clutch those memories so desperately, yanking them tight for fear that the relentless tide of time would sweep them away along with that person.

Fang Zhizhu was forever by her side. Fang Zhizhu was right there beside her, growing up healthy and happy, casting aside all pain and misfortune to embrace a beautiful life.

They had never been apart. They had never parted.

The movie came to a complete close, the screen fading to black.

In the darkness, Fang Zhi wrapped her arms around Chen Nian, pressing her entire body close to offer warmth and unyielding support.

After leaving the theater, Chen Nian dragged Fang Zhi straight to sign up.

Her resolve was so ironclad that Fang Zhi had no chance to object.

Following an a cappella audition, Fang Zhi breezed into the auditions. When it came time to record her contestant details, Chen Nian answered for her: “Fang Zhizhu—the ‘Zhizhu’ from ‘see the subtle to know the trend.’ Yes, her stage name.”

Fang Zhi stared at her in a daze. Chen Nian tilted her head and smiled. “I had a dream once. You were standing on stage as Fang Zhizhu, cutting through every round to become a huge star.”

Fang Zhi let out a sudden puff of laughter. “Really?”

Chen Nian nodded with utter certainty. “Really.”

Fang Zhi gripped her hand tightly. “Then you’ll still be by my side? Even after I become a big star?”

Chen Nian replied, “Of course.”

There wasn’t a trace of hesitation—her answer flowed smooth and resolute.

Fang Zhi pursed her lips, letting the topic drop. She’d gotten everything she wanted for the moment. “If only we could grab some ice cream right now, that would make it perfect.”

“Let’s do it.” Chen Nian led her outside. “Celebrating our Zhizhi making it into the auditions. We’re eating—big scoops.”

Fang Zhi said, “It’s Zhizhu.”

Chen Nian replied, “Fine, celebrating our Zhizhu.”

The two devoured large portions of ice cream before carrying the good news home.

Liu Chunhua hadn’t minded the girls skipping school for a day. Seeing them reconciled filled her with joy.

With that, the contest was officially on.

Life grew extraordinarily hectic from then on. It wasn’t just Fang Zhi preparing for the competition—the whole family carved out time and energy, uniting for a single shared goal.

Fang Zhi passed the auditions without a hitch, claiming the highest score of the day.

In the rounds that followed, she consistently topped the rankings. Chen Nian had taken her nameplate photo, and it was stunning—wherever the venue, it always caught passersby’s eyes first.

By contrast, Fang Zhixiao cut a lonely figure.

Since they were in the same district, they crossed paths at nearly every event. Fang Zhi arrived with a whole entourage, while Fang Zhixiao was always by herself.

Her scores had plummeted. She used to tower over Fang Zhi, but now she teetered on the brink of elimination in every match.

Chen Nian spoke to her a few times, always with Fang Zhi present.

Fang Zhixiao still didn’t say much, but she was far more approachable now—greeting Chen Nian and the others, chatting about the competition.

Time flew by, and July arrived in the blink of an eye.

Fang Zhi smoothly advanced to the national top 64 of the Supernova Contest. While other students geared up for summer fun, she began packing her bags for Shanghai.

Chen Nian was, of course, going along—but Ms. Liu Chunhua was vehemently against it.

She argued fiercely with Chen Nian over the spot. “Of course I’m the one going with Zhizhi. What could a kid like you even do in a strange city like Shanghai?”

Chen Nian asked, “Mom, how many times have you been to Shanghai?”

Liu Chunhua said, “This’ll be my first—soon, anyway.”

Chen Nian waggled a finger. “I’ve been three times.”

Liu Chunhua: “…”

Chen Nian pressed, “Mom, how many people do you know there?”

Liu Chunhua boasted, “I’ll make a ton of friends the second I step off the plane!”

Chen Nian countered, “I’ve got two editorial offices, one association, and three photographer friends there.”

Liu Chunhua: “…”

Chen Nian was one step away from lighting up a cigarette between her fingers. “So, the one who’s truly out of their depth is you. On the money front, I’ve got plenty. Stamina? I’m younger and tougher than you. Street smarts… Mom, who called the cops those times we needed them? And who lined up the lawyer for that lawsuit last time?”

Unable to win with words, Liu Chunhua resorted to action.

She grabbed Chen Nian, yanked her into an embrace, and delivered two sharp smacks to her backside. “Got too big for your britches, have you? Wings all grown and ready to fly away, huh?”

Chen Nian yelped in pain from the beating, then burst into laughter once it was over.

In the end, Ms. Liu Chunhua still gave in to Chen Nian. With so many shops at home and peak season hitting right at the start of summer vacation—plus that useless husband of hers rusticated to the countryside—she simply couldn’t afford to drop everything and head to Shanghai.

Over the years, Chen Nian had proven her reliability time and again with her smarts and real-world experience. So Ms. Liu Chunhua let the two girls go off to Shanghai alone, her heart a tangle of anxiety and pride, nerves and relief.

After nagging them eight hundred times to call if anything came up, she finally saw them onto the plane.

The moment Chen Nian took her seat, she fastened Fang Zhi’s seatbelt and let out a long breath. “Finally, our two-person world is about to begin!”

Fang Zhi tilted her head. “Are you that excited?”

“Of course I am,” Chen Nian said. “Shanghai—the most glamorous city around. Endless celebrities, exhibitions galore. And…”

Fang Zhi cut her off. “And what?”

Sensing a chill in the air, Chen Nian quickly backpedaled. “And your competition, of course! Just imagining you charging through the obstacles to claim the championship gets me all fired up.”

But Fang Zhi didn’t take the bait on that thrilling topic. She lowered her gaze, smoothed her clothes, and said quietly, “Have you figured out where you’re staying after we land?”