Chapter 2: “I just want to be close to you.”

Xu Mi hated Qu An’ge.

When exactly this hatred started was uncertain. It was just that one night, her heart ached as if being gnawed upon. Xu Mi saw Qu An’ge on the TV screen, laughing and fooling around with a male co-star from the same drama, and suddenly thought, If only she wasn’t an actor.

Don’t be an actor, don’t appear in public. Lock her up, confine her, let her only eat food I give her, only hear my voice, only see my face.

She didn’t want Qu An’ge to be doing well anymore. Because Qu An’ge was doing well, growing further and further away, becoming more and more like a stranger. Xu Mi finally realized that if this continued, Qu An’ge would definitely leave her. The pain spread from her heart to every limb and bone, and she gritted her teeth with unbearable difficulty, as if wanting to gnaw on something.

She realized that hatred and love could sometimes be an equation. She loved Qu An’ge as much as she hated her. Love and hate intertwined, turning her into a twisted monster she herself couldn’t recognize.

So, she finally decided to let go. She was afraid of becoming a monster, and afraid that the monster she became would truly hurt Qu An’ge.

But Qu An’ge just had to come and provoke her again. Sitting there, sipping tea, eating an egg pancake, humming a tune and smiling at her. Xu Mi stared at her impassively, fighting the urge to snatch the teacup from her hand and ask what was wrong with her brain.

But she didn’t dare speak.

What if the other party really had a brain problem and was delirious, and her scolding made her snap out of it?

In the end, it still came down to lingering foolish hope.

Qu An’ge was thinking of other things. Licking her chopsticks, she asked, “To get the marriage certificate, besides ID cards, don’t we also need household registers? My household register is at my mom’s; I’ll have to go back to get it from her.”

She fixed her eyes on Xu Mi’s face, saw the other girl furrow her brows, but say nothing.

To be honest, although she always felt Xu Mi was her soulmate and dream lover, realistically, it had indeed been ten years since they last met. She believed Xu Mi became clearer and clearer in her memories, but clearly, that was more a matter of wishful thinking. Looking at Xu Mi now, she did feel the other girl was a bit unfamiliar. For instance, the Xu Mi in her memory wasn’t this quiet.

Too many thoughts flooded her mind, and this one just flashed by. At that moment, Qu An’ge’s phone rang. She picked it up and saw Zhou Yue’s name.

Seeing Zhou Yue’s name immediately made a cold sneer appear on her face. Right now, Zhou Yue was her agent. And it was Zhou Yue who tricked her into signing that contract with Spotlight Media. The contract sounded good, but in reality, it was a fifteen-year indenture. The company’s rules were harsh to the point of being perverse. Though there was an element of shifting blame, Qu An’ge felt the most important reason she’d been pushed to break up was the “no dating” clause in the contract. Back then, she’d been blinded by greed and actually thought it was a good opportunity, going ahead and signing it.

And Zhou Yue was just a running dog for Spotlight Media. To put it even more bluntly, he was practically a madam, a piece of trash who pimped for Spotlight Media.

But looking at the timeline, her past self currently trusted Zhou Yue deeply. Because she came into this circle as a complete amateur, knowing nothing, naively thinking Zhou Yue was her guiding light.

Later, to end the contract with Spotlight Media and shake off the persistent scab that was Zhou Yue, she had expended considerable effort.

She frowned, cursing inwardly. She only remembered she’d proposed the breakup to Xu Mi in June of this year, but vaguely recalled that just before the breakup, she’d signed the contract with Spotlight Media. Had she already signed it now?

Once this contract was signed, unless she paid the penalty fee, there was truly no way out.

The penalty fee wasn’t much for her future self, two million, but for her current self, it was an astronomical figure.

Qu An’ge answered the call. Zhou Yue’s shrieking voice came through the receiver: “Qu An’ge! Where did you go! There’s a dinner party with Director Weng today, don’t tell me you forgot!”

Zhou Yue was a particularly flamboyant man. Qu An’ge always suspected he was gay, but he always dated girlfriends.

Qu An’ge frowned. The fact that Zhou Yue could so naturally call and tell her to accompany others for drinks meant the contract was likely already signed. Still unwilling to give up, she said directly: “I came to see my girlfriend.”

Zhou Yue’s shrieking stopped abruptly, like a chicken being strangled. After a long pause, he quavered: “What did you say? What?”

Already fed up with dealing with Zhou Yue, Qu An’ge mumbled around a mouthful of egg pancake: “Came to see my girlfriend. What about it.”

Zhou Yue calmed down and said slowly, “What’s wrong? Did something bad happen to upset you? Are you throwing a tantrum?”

Qu An’ge said: “Can’t I have a girlfriend?”

Zhou Yue said: “Do you remember the contents of the contract?”

Although she had already guessed it, hearing this made Qu An’ge’s heart nonetheless sink. So I did sign it.

This rebirth couldn’t have picked a better time, a few days earlier? But on second thought, being reborn at all was a miracle. To fault a miracle for its timing was being a beggar who complained about the food.

Qu An’ge pondered countermeasures in her mind while speaking: “I’m just unhappy. I want to rest for a few days, don’t feel like working.”

Such preposterous words clearly stunned Zhou Yue. He didn’t speak for a long time. Qu An’ge added: “I’m hanging up. I’m hungover, terrible headache. Bye.”

She hung up, beamed a smile at Xu Mi, and said, “I’m taking leave to be with my darling.”

The corner of Xu Mi’s mouth twitched; she didn’t look touched. Qu An’ge finished breakfast and patted her stomach, saying, “I want wild vegetable rolls for dinner. With those rice noodle wrappers, and that sauce you make, the sweet and salty one.”

Xu Mi’s eyebrows twitched. She took a deep breath and said, “You’re starting to order dishes now.”

Qu An’ge said, “Anyway, I’m off work. Why don’t we go home together? Your household register should be at home too.”

Xu Mi said: “What exactly is wrong with you? Explain it clearly.” Her head was in chaos, feeling dizzy and lightheaded, as if she were dreaming.

Qu An’ge was just about to speak when her phone rang again. She picked it up and glanced at it: Zhou Yue calling back. She wanted to put it on silent, but because this phone was still the old Nokia model, not a smartphone, she momentarily panicked, unsure how. She passed it to Xu Mi: “How do I put it on silent?”

Xu Mi looked at her in disbelief, as if looking at an idiot. Still, she took it and helped Qu An’ge set it to silent mode. Qu An’ge seized the chance to sit next to Xu Mi, pressing against her arm as she watched her operate. After finishing, Xu Mi stuffed the phone back into Qu An’ge’s hands, pulled her chair away from Qu An’ge. Qu An’ge scooted closer, Xu Mi moved farther. They circled the table like this until Xu Mi, unable to bear it, stood up and said: “It’s so hot. What do you really want?”

Qu An’ge looked up at Xu Mi: “I just want to be close to you.”

The temperature was almost thirty degrees. Only the electric fan was on in the living room. Qu An’ge had broken a slight sweat, the stray hairs at her temples damp and sticking to her forehead, the tip of her nose shiny. But even so, she was damnably beautiful. Her pale skin made the shine look like a dewy glow, her makeup-free skin showing a pink like a ripe peach. Her whole face looked like a fruit so plump it could burst with juice. Because it seemed so unadorned, it made her beauty feel even more effortless.

Xu Mi felt uncomfortably hot. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she heard Qu An’ge immediately say: “Is darling hot? I’ll turn on the AC for you.”

Xu Mi’s whole face scrunched up at this. In the past, Qu An’ge could be dramatic, but she’d never before hung such sickeningly sweet words on her lips so casually. Ten years in the future, Xu Mi would know that such behavior should be defined as “greasy.” But right now, she couldn’t put her finger on it, just felt it was a little cheesy and weird.

Qu An’ge indeed went looking for the remote. She rummaged through the gaps of the sofa with her butt sticking up in the air. Dressed only in a tank top and shorts, her snowy skin was exposed by her exaggerated movements, her entire figure appearing even more slender and graceful against the backdrop of the cramped old sofa.

Xu Mi turned her head away to look out the window. The harsh sunlight made the world outside a glaring white, giving a feeling of timelessness and displacement.

The two of them had attended universities in the same city but different districts. In their third year of university, they rented an apartment together outside of school. That summer break, Qu An’ge hadn’t yet been scouted on the street by that damn talent scout. She would spend the entire vacation sprawled on the sofa watching boring TV series. Xu Mi had an internship and would bring back duck necks from a place on her way home when she finished work. Thinking the AC electricity bill was too expensive since she wasn’t working, Qu An’ge wouldn’t turn it on during the day, only switching it on just before Xu Mi returned. So every time Xu Mi came home, she was greeted by refreshing cool air and the sight of Qu An’ge sprawling unceremoniously on the sofa, legs wide apart, dragging out her words: “I’m so hungry, Xu Mi.”

These past six months, she had often reminisced about that time. Even though back then she would complain about having to cook after work, and that whatever dish Qu An’ge concocted was practically poisonous. But Qu An’ge would scoop the center of the watermelon to her lips, queue up to buy her favorite cakes. No matter what time she returned home, she would always find Qu An’ge right there on the sofa, arranging her impossibly long legs into all sorts of strange positions.

Like right now. Qu An’ge, having turned on the AC, had one long leg propped on the coffee table and the other resting on the sofa, hugged to her chest, staring at her phone, reading who-knows-what. Sometimes, Xu Mi felt the other girl was like a large dog with low obedience, a Samoyed or something. Just sitting there was a strong presence, and she always had to make some noise.

Currently, she was sighing. After a while, she looked up and asked: “Can’t I buy high-speed rail tickets on my phone? How am I supposed to buy them now?”

Reborn in a single day, Qu An’ge hadn’t expected that instead of enjoying the benefits of foresight, she’d first be suffering from a lack of common sense. But having grown accustomed to smartphones later on, she genuinely couldn’t use this non-smart phone now.

Xu Mi said nothing. She turned and went into the bedroom. Qu An’ge hurriedly followed: “How about you buy them?”

But just as Qu An’ge reached the doorway, Xu Mi closed the door and locked it. Qu An’ge knocked: “What’s wrong, darling? Little Mi? Xu Mi!”

An incoming call flashed on the phone screen again. This time it was Zeng Xuejia. Zeng Xuejia was also an artist under Zhou Yue. Seeing Zeng Xuejia’s name, Qu An’ge’s expression darkened further. Zeng Xuejia was a genuinely good person, but because she was a genuinely good person, she had no good outcome in this circle. She had signed the same type of contract as Qu An’ge, but unlike Qu An’ge, she hadn’t met a benefactor and was thoroughly dragged down and destroyed by that contract.

But she had indeed treated Qu An’ge well. Although Qu An’ge knew the other was definitely acting as a mediator for Zhou Yue, she still answered the call. She started speaking as soon as it connected: “Sister Jia, if this is about me going back, I’m definitely not going back. I’m in a bad mood.”

As she spoke, she leaned against the bedroom door, her other hand unconsciously tapping on the door panel.

Inside the room, Xu Mi was originally sprawled on the bed. Hearing the door go “thump, thump, thump” nonstop, she irritably walked to the doorway and pressed her ear against it. From outside came Qu An’ge’s voice—

“Ah, I know. If it’s a breach, it’s a breach. I’m ready to pay the penalty fee.”