If Chun Liuyi had managed to maintain a facade of peace when she first met Gu Qingshuang, that mask had now been completely torn away.
Ming Li remained standing where she was long after Chun Liuyi had walked off.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the parting words: “I’m the one selling myself; it’s none of her damn business. Tell her to butt out.”
Chun Liuyi had said selling, not dancing. It proved she had known the true nature of her performance tonight from the very beginning.
The word “sell” had slipped from her lips with airy indifference, yet Ming Li still heard the underlying notes of loathing. It was a deep-seated disgust that Chun Liuyi felt in her very bones.
As the clicking of high heels gradually faded, Ming Li snapped out of her daze. She shut off the faucet and ran out.
She caught up to Chun Liuyi a moment later.
The hallway was dimly lit, casting long shadows across Chun Liuyi’s face. She had a high-fashion look—the kind of “cinematic face” that seemed born for the silver screen. Just by standing there, she exuded an air of haughty indifference toward the world. In the words of Zhu Hanxing, this was the “holy grail” of indie film faces; one look told you she had a story to tell.
The lighting only emphasized this quality, but Ming Li wasn’t in the mood to admire her. She summoned her courage and asked, “Back there… why did you think of having me call her?”
She didn’t explicitly say the name, but both knew who she meant.
Chun Liuyi stared straight at her. Suddenly, she let out a sharp laugh, her shoulders shaking as she looked down.
When she raised her head again, the mirth was gone, replaced by a cold calm. “Do you know that you look exactly like someone else?”
Ming Li’s throat tightened, her Adam’s apple bobbing with difficulty.
So, it was that answer.
She had already guessed as much, but she had harbored a sliver of hope. She had been desperate for a different answer from Chun Liuyi. Something like: Because you are her wife.
Because you are her wife, you are naturally the person she trusts most. You are the special one. Only you can bring her back to her senses.
But that wasn’t it.
Chun Liuyi curled her lip and arched a brow. “It looks like you already know.”
Ming Li pursed her lips, making the crimson stain on her mouth look even more vivid. She exerted every ounce of self-control to keep her emotions in check, desperate to avoid making a fool of herself.
As for the rest of the answer, she decided she didn’t want to hear it. Listening further would only be an exercise in self-humiliation.
Yet, as if someone else were speaking through her, the name slipped out of her mouth: “Shen Lideng?”
Ming Li had no memory of what Shen Lideng looked like. She had looked at her own face her entire life; even if Shen Lideng stood right in front of her, she probably wouldn’t see the resemblance.
It was just like how everyone said Ming Xi looked exactly like her. From the moment Ming Xi was born, people claimed they were cut from the same cloth. But Ming Li would look at photos, comparing them over and over, and she could never see it.
She felt Ming Xi’s eyes were much larger than hers, her nose more bridge-prominent, and even Ming Xi’s forehead was a finger’s width broader.
Yet even now, when she went to a shop with Ming Xi, the shopkeeper would say they were clearly sisters because they looked identical.
At this moment, Ming Li—usually devoid of curiosity—found herself wondering: What does Shen Lideng actually look like?
We looked alike before, but do we still look alike now? Why does every single person think we look the same?
Was she a fake? A substitute?
Ming Li was always afraid that Ming Xi would get angry on her behalf, so she never showed her grievances in front of her sister. But in her entire life, no one had ever said such a thing to her before.
She had always been the one and only “Princess Ming.” She had been the apple of her parents’ eyes.
A sudden wave of sorrow washed over her. Before she could even speak, a single tear fell—crystal clear—though her eyes didn’t feel wet.
Chun Liuyi looked stunned for a second. She asked an out-of-the-blue question: “Are you planning on going into acting?”
Ming Li blinked, startled. “Huh?”
Seeing her expression, Chun Liuyi’s previous hostility vanished. She said flatly, “It’s her.”
Before Ming Li could respond, Chun Liuyi continued, “Gu Qingshuang isn’t exactly a saint, but she isn’t the type of person to go looking for a body double. If she said it’s over with Shen Lideng, then it’s over. Regardless, the person she married is you, not Shen Lideng.”
“And don’t try to pry into their past. What’s in the past is gone.”
When Chun Liuyi spoke calmly, her voice had a strangely soothing effect. Ming Li’s heart settled, feeling an unexpected sense of peace.
After saying her piece, Chun Liuyi turned and walked away.
“Thank you,” Ming Li called out to her back.
Chun Liuyi didn’t even turn her head.
***
Ming Li couldn’t quite describe how she felt. Her heart had been on a roller coaster all night, tossed up and down.
Even after hearing Chun Liuyi’s words of comfort, her mood didn’t truly lift. She tried to force herself not to think about those things, but the thoughts were unavoidable.
Ming Li didn’t want to go back to the banquet hall to socialize. She found a corner to hide in. Seeing a group of people gathered nearby to smoke, she even felt a fleeting urge to join them. Would a puff of smoke really make all my troubles vanish?
She knew alcohol didn’t work. Being drunk never made her forget.
Instead, the painful memories would play on a loop in her mind whenever she was intoxicated, a revolving door of misery that left her in agony. When she was sober, she could distract herself with work, but once she was drunk, there was no escape.
As Ming Li let her thoughts wander, she heard the group mention Zhou Bai.
“Zhou Bai really doted on that daughter of his. Do you think Lu Tingsong is trying to copy him today?”
“Who knows? But man, I was so jealous of how much Zhou Bai spoiled her back then.”
“Haha, what’s there to be jealous of? Your family treats you well enough.”
“It’s not even close compared to her.”
“I heard Lu Guixiao is a real piece of work. That brat’s got her head in the clouds. The girl from the Ming family was much more low-key.”
“What’s that Ming princess doing these days? Tell me, I haven’t heard the gossip.”
“She married into the Gu family…”
They laughed and chatted, talking without restraint. The conversation drifted aimlessly, and soon Zhou Bai and Gu Qingshuang became old news.
Ming Li suddenly lowered her head and smiled. She finally realized why the scene of Lu Guixiao standing on that stage felt so familiar.
She had once possessed that kind of happiness, too.
As she smiled, her mouth felt a bit bitter. she stuck out her tongue and licked her lip. It was salty and sharp.
Oh. It was a tear.
She suddenly, desperately, missed her father.
The father who had passed away, who had left no words behind, who had been irresponsible in the end—but who had once loved and spoiled her so, so much.
She felt so very small.
