A memory suddenly surfaced.
It was somewhat related, yet not entirely.
It was probably their senior year of high school, during the last New Year’s arts performance.
Qu An’ge had been roped into dancing by the girls in her class. She couldn’t dance at all and found it mortifying. The class monitor tried to persuade her, saying it was their final year of high school—didn’t she want to leave behind a beautiful memory? Qu An’ge was pestered for a solid week and, somehow, dizzily agreed in the end.
She practiced at home, but her mother constantly scolded her for not doing proper work. So, using studying as an excuse, she went to Xu Mi’s place to practice there instead. She’d flail her limbs in the bedroom, feeling how awkward she looked. Yet Xu Mi always watched her very seriously and never laughed at her.
One day, utterly exhausted from dancing, she asked Xu Mi, “Don’t you think I look ridiculous?”
Xu Mi said, “No.”
She collapsed onto the bed, rolling towards Xu Mi, and asked again, “But do you think I dance well?”
Xu Mi said, “Very well.”
Qu An’ge rolled her eyes, thinking the girl must be blind.
Later, on the day of the performance, Xu Mi, who usually studied in the classroom during such events, came to the auditorium. Qu An’ge messed up on stage, nearly falling. Humiliated, she fled as soon as it was over. That evening, on her way home, she ran into Xu Mi. Xu Mi was standing under a streetlamp, reviewing her error notebook. Qu An’ge had already walked past her before Xu Mi even noticed.
She was speechless. She cleared her throat. Xu Mi looked up and said, “Qu An’ge, why did you just leave like that?”
Qu An’ge kicked at pebbles on the road. “Of course I left. Did you expect me to wait around to be laughed at?”
Xu Mi paused. “Why would anyone laugh?”
Qu An’ge: “I nearly fell.”
Xu Mi said, “Really? I didn’t even notice.”
Qu An’ge then had a sudden revelation. “No wonder you never reacted when I practiced. You actually can’t understand dance at all.”
Xu Mi nodded, saying, “That’s true.” At the same time, she rummaged in her backpack, stuffed the error notebook back in, and pulled out a bouquet of roses.
“I was planning to give you flowers, but you disappeared. I had no choice but to give them to you now.”
The bouquet of white roses had been crushed in the bag, a bit wilted. Qu An’ge walked over, a bit speechless. “Normally, people don’t give flowers to dancers.”
“They don’t? I saw it on TV.”
Qu An’ge still took them. The fragrance of the flowers filled her nostrils, and she felt a faint, inexplicable happiness. She said, “You really meant to come on stage to give me flowers?”
The second half of the sentence went unspoken: “Would you have had the nerve?” She knew how thin-skinned Xu Mi was.
Under the streetlamp, Xu Mi’s ears were indeed red. She looked at Qu An’ge and said, “I was actually hesitating. But you ran off and didn’t give me the chance.”
Qu An’ge leaned in closer. “Then you should thank me.”
As she leaned in, Xu Mi’s face grew even redder.
She stepped back half a pace, stopping against the base of the wall, her eyes slightly downcast, the corners even reddening.
At that time, Qu An’ge’s feelings for Xu Mi weren’t yet clear. She just thought Xu Mi was quite cute. That night, seeing Xu Mi’s face completely flushed, a tiny flame suddenly ignited in her heart. Her gaze fell on the other’s lips, and she briefly imagined what it would feel like to touch them.
But the thought only flashed through her mind as briefly as a lightning strike. She immediately felt shy and straightened up.
She’d originally intended to say, “Sleep over at my place tonight.”
For some reason, she was suddenly overcome with shyness. Her words changed, turning into, “I’ll walk you home.”
She hid the white roses behind her back. Her footsteps, she didn’t know why, were a little light. That night, mixed with the scent of roses, settled into her memory, a memory she revisited time and again.
Later, Qu An’ge asked Xu Mi, “When did you fall in love with me?” Xu Mi said she didn’t know, maybe during college. Qu An’ge then asked her, “Do you remember that night you gave me the white roses? Back then, you thought of giving me flowers—wasn’t that because you already loved me?”
Xu Mi blushed—she was always so easy to embarrass. She said, “Perhaps. But at the time, it was mainly to encourage you.”
The memories surged like waves, carrying her up and down, so much so that she didn’t notice the sound of the instrument growing closer.
Suddenly, her arm was squeezed, quite painfully. Qu An’ge came back to her senses and saw Qiu Shuiyi staring ahead, her expression excited.
It turned out Lin Wanzhao was walking towards them.
And was already right in front of them.
To dodge now would be far too ungraceful. Qu An’ge had no choice but to smile and face Lin Wanzhao directly, not avoiding the other’s gaze. The music faded, and Lin Wanzhao lowered her instrument. “Did I play it correctly?”
She was a bit too tired to explain, inexplicably exhausted tonight. Qu An’ge nodded. “It was correct.”
Qiu Shuiyi pinched her at her side. “An’ge, you know Miss Lin? Why didn’t you introduce me?”
Qu An’ge was looking at Xu Mi. Xu Mi was still there, but her head was bowed. Qu An’ge spoke: “This is President Qiu, the CEO of Glory Entertainment.”
Qiu Shuiyi slapped Qu An’ge on the back. “Why bring that up? Hello, Miss Lin, I’m Qiu Shuiyi. I’ll be in City A for a while. Feel free to ask me out anytime.”
Social niceties were practically engraved in her DNA. Qu An’ge automatically added, “Let’s get together sometime.”
Elegant classical music began playing again. Thanks to Lin Wanzhao, Qu An’ge momentarily became the center of attention at the banquet. Many prominent figures she knew and didn’t know came over to introduce themselves. Qu An’ge didn’t show any timidity, introducing herself with poise and ease.
But when she looked again, Xu Mi was gone.
She found a corner and called Xu Mi. Xu Mi hung up and texted her back—【Just meet me at the entrance when it’s time to leave.】
Qu An’ge replied—【Leaving now. Meet me at the entrance.】
…
Xu Mi was in the bathroom again. She checked the time. 9:30 PM. She didn’t know if that was considered early or late.
But she didn’t want to overthink it. She pushed the door open to leave but saw Lin Wanzhao right in front of the mirror, touching up her makeup. She paused. After a moment’s hesitation, she decided not to greet her and headed straight for the exit. Lin Wanzhao spoke up: “Aren’t you going to wash your hands?”
I didn’t even use the toilet—though she could explain that, it seemed like too much trouble.
Xu Mi turned back and washed her hands. Over the sound of running water, Lin Wanzhao said, “What a coincidence—not really, though. I’ve been waiting for you to come out.”
Xu Mi glanced at Lin Wanzhao’s reflection in the mirror.
Is there something wrong with this rich miss? she thought.
Lin Wanzhao smiled cheerfully. “I imagined the possible conversations we might have in my head. But you didn’t say any of it, so I had to say it myself.”
If someone talks to you and you never respond, it probably isn’t polite. Xu Mi considered this, said “Oh,” and straightened up to walk out.
Lin Wanzhao said, “Aren’t you going to dry your hands? But there’s no paper here. I have some though. Do you need some?”
Xu Mi hesitated. Lin Wanzhao stepped forward, pressed a tissue into Xu Mi’s hand, and said, “Thank you. Thank you.”
Xu Mi looked at her, confused. “Are you saying thank you for me?” This was too strange.
Lin Wanzhao smiled. “The first is for you. The second is for myself.”
Xu Mi knew the girl had recognized her. She said, “It’s nothing. Just a small favor.”
She looked down at the tissue in her hand. “Thank you.”
Lin Wanzhao tilted her head slightly, watching her. “Do you think I’m a little strange?”
Xu Mi said, “A little.”
Lin Wanzhao paused. “Most people wouldn’t say that.”
Xu Mi thought about it and said bluntly, “Then they’re lying to you.”
She turned and left. This time, Lin Wanzhao didn’t call after her.
She probably thinks I’m a rude person with low emotional intelligence, Xu Mi thought.
…
Perhaps because most of the attendees had driven themselves, there weren’t many people outside the hotel entrance.
From a distance, Xu Mi spotted Qu An’ge at a single glance. The other woman was wearing a champagne-colored gown, like a water lily blooming at night. Many people around were watching her, but no one approached. Xu Mi couldn’t help but recall the scene inside the banquet, when Lin Wanzhao had drawn near to Qu An’ge playing the viola. Both possessed graceful bearing and outstanding looks; when they stood close, they seemed like a perfect couple.
Xu Mi strongly suspected that jealousy had seized her then, leading her to say such harsh words to Lin Wanzhao in the bathroom.
It was probably true, at least somewhat. She really was the type who couldn’t stand seeing others happy.
She folded her arms and walked over. Qu An’ge spotted her and waved, looking very happy.
They got into a taxi and rode directly to the residential community entrance.
At this hour, the old community had no one out and about. Many of the streetlamps were broken, leaving segments of the path in pitch darkness. Fortunately, the moonlight was beautiful tonight, casting its frost-like light on the road, allowing them to see the way ahead.
Say something.
Xu Mi thought.
Say something, on this final night.
Should she say goodbye? Perhaps she should, because last night, Qu An’ge had told her with a tearful voice that she hoped Xu Mi wouldn’t leave without a word.
But sometimes, uttering those words was truly difficult. From this, one could see that leaving without saying goodbye wasn’t always done for dramatic effect.
They reached the foot of their building without either managing to speak. Looking up, they saw someone sitting at the iron gate, straddling the ground like a stray dog. Xu Mi froze and looked at Qu An’ge.
Qu An’ge also looked utterly shocked.
Because the person sitting there in the middle of the night was Zhou Yue.
Zhou Yue seemed to have been drinking; his face was flushed. He looked up at the sound of footsteps, a smile spreading across his face. “An’ge, you’re back. Went to some dinner party? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Qu An’ge pulled Xu Mi behind her. “I’ve already sent the termination letter. If you disagree, I can pursue litigation. You’re no longer my agent.”
Xu Mi was slightly stunned. She stood in Qu An’ge’s shadow, smelling the perfume on her.
An unfamiliar scent, the one sprayed at the beauty salon earlier today.
Zhou Yue’s eyes were bloodshot. He looked at Qu An’ge, and in stark contrast to his pleasant words, his face was filled with bone-deep hatred.
“Agent? Hah, let me tell you a funny story. I sent the termination letter up to the company higher-ups today. During the day, the higher-ups were talking about going through litigation, about dragging you to death. But this evening, for some reason, they suddenly called me, saying they wouldn’t make your termination difficult…”
His voice paused briefly. Xu Mi felt Qu An’ge’s palm grow slick with sweat.
Zhou Yue’s voice rose sharply, like a volcano suddenly erupting. “And they told me to resign myself tomorrow! To resign! Saying I jeopardized the company’s interests?”
Qu An’ge gave a cold laugh. “You did jeopardize them, didn’t you? The money you got from exploiting your artists—surely it wasn’t all turned over to the company.”
Zhou Yue stared at Qu An’ge with a dark, venomous look. “You ratted me out?”
Qu An’ge squeezed Xu Mi’s hand and whispered, “Call the police.”
Xu Mi immediately pulled out her phone to call the police. Zhou Yue stood up. “What are you doing? I haven’t done anything. Are you planning to waste police resources?”
Xu Mi dialed. Zhou Yue was about to charge forward when he heard Xu Mi say, “Hello, is this 110?”
Zhou Yue was holding a can of beer. “Alright, this is pointless. I’m leaving. I still have my network of resources. Do you think I’d actually commit a crime for you?”
