Back when Jian Shichu was studying, she had always stood out, but she never showed off. Before Wen Zhixu got to know her, she was always by herself.
She was one of the school’s top students, but to put it simply, she wasn’t very sociable.
Actually, the first time she saw her, Jian Shichu struck her as gentle and mild, yet somehow influenced by the world, a cool temperament amid the hustle and bustle of daily life.
A southern girl with that water-like quality, words on the tip of her tongue but hard to voice. The snowy night in a foreign land wasn’t as gentle as described in books; the highway lights flowed like rivers.
Jian Shichu liked to hold her hand and tuck it into her pocket, warm and comforting inside.
Come to think of it, it was actually Jian Shichu who liked her first. When she fell for her, Jian Shichu told her that all those “chance encounters” had been carefully planned.
How to describe the feeling of being with Jian Shichu?
It was like weeds entwining in the rain, suddenly catching the scent of a dewy wild rose—dullness no longer tasteless.
The heartfelt words from novels became mere seasoning.
A straight shooter who secretly crushed on her for a year—pretty strange, right?
When Wen Zhixu first approached someone like her, she mustered all the courage she had saved up in her life. But back then, no one knew that it was Jian Shichu chasing her.
Once memories flood the gates, they’re hard to hold back. In the end, it was the vibration of her phone that pulled her thoughts back.
“When are you going in?” Wen Zhixu looked at the message from An Ran and asked Jian Shichu in front of her.
Jian Shichu said unhurriedly, “Add me on WeChat.”
Her words weren’t as firm as rock; they even sounded like fake bravado, lacking confidence.
By the time Wen Zhixu looked up, Jian Shichu had already taken out her phone, silently turning the screen toward Wen Zhixu.
Wen Zhixu stared at her, a bit dazed. They hadn’t added each other on WeChat before, and Wen Zhixu’s screen still showed a half-typed message.
Her index finger was right on the lock button as her eyes scanned the QR code on Jian Shichu’s screen—a simple blue cartoon avatar right in the center.
“What are you two doing here?”
Wen Zhixu heard Song Yi’s voice, and the two of them tacitly glanced toward the VIP room.
At the same time, Wen Zhixu pressed down hard—”click”—locking her phone. Song Yi’s high heels clicked closer and closer.
That sound made Jian Shichu’s brows furrow slightly.
Wen Zhixu pocketed her phone. “Out of battery. Next time.” She spoke quickly as she replied.
Jian Shichu spun her phone in her hand and put it away. She could tell Wen Zhixu was avoiding Song Yi, and that expression left her feeling a bit down.
Song Yi walked up with a smile. “Teacher Wen, I was just looking for you.”
“I stepped out for some air. Something up?” Wen Zhixu replied, still not looking at Song Yi.
Jian Shichu took it all in, watching Wen Zhixu’s expression closely. She let out a heavy breath.
Song Yi glanced at Jian Shichu before saying, “Nothing special. Just wanted to chat with you casually.”
Hearing that, Wen Zhixu’s heart tightened. She suddenly looked up at Jian Shichu, feeling like she’d been pushed to the edge of a cliff, frozen in place.
Her throat bobbed as she forced herself to stay calm, though her voice trembled a bit. “We’ll talk later. I’m not feeling great right now.”
With that, Wen Zhixu brushed past Song Yi and hurried away, exhaling as the AC wind hit her.
“What’s going on? Why’s she acting all shy?” Song Yi watched Wen Zhixu’s retreating back—no glance back, steps abrupt.
Jian Shichu didn’t move, her eyes shifting from Song Yi to Wen Zhixu’s shadow, then lightly settling on Song Yi’s face. “Was that shyness?”
“Wasn’t it? Her eyes were all red, and she wouldn’t even look at me.”
Jian Shichu softly countered, “I didn’t see it.”
Song Yi frowned slightly at Jian Shichu’s unusual behavior, though it passed quickly. “Heading to the convenience store? I don’t like tea, and it’s still early.”
“A bit tired. You go ahead.” Jian Shichu checked the time, breathing steadily.
Though she’d said that, Jian Shichu herself couldn’t figure it out—why did Wen Zhixu blush and panic at the sight of Song Yi?
The chances of running into Wen Zhixu here were high because she was avoiding Song Yi and had come out.
The more she thought about it, the worse she felt, her eyes dimming like a bulb with a burnt-out filament.
—
The event was set for 3:30 PM, and it was already 3:20. Media reporters and big-name guests had been seated and waiting for a while.
When Wen Zhixu returned to the VIP room, Wang Yun and producer Xu Ting stood in the middle, faces full of anxiety. The atmosphere was tense from the creases in their brows.
Tang Qin, unconcerned, sat cross-legged nearby playing on her phone, back against the couch, chewing gum and blowing bubbles now and then, earbuds in as she listened to music.
Su Yun was there too when Wen Zhixu entered. She asked, “What’s going on?”
“Delayed. Yixuan hasn’t arrived.” Su Yun deliberately lowered her voice.
Live streams often got delayed by accidents, and especially today—the crew wouldn’t say it was Ke Yixuan’s fault publicly, but the media would gossip about her being a diva.
Wen Zhixu heard Wang Yun ask the assistant where she was; the assistant said they’d just passed the traffic light.
Xu Ting’s face was clearly unhappy, but the assistant kept apologizing and smiling to everyone in the conference hall.
Wen Zhixu glanced at her phone. Accounting for traffic, it’d be a bit. After a few words with Wang Yun, she left the VIP room again.
She bumped right into Jian Shichu at the door. Jian Shichu blocked the door with her hand and asked softly, “Where to?”
“Getting some air.” Wen Zhixu was nonchalant, brushing Jian Shichu’s wrist aside.
Without a greeting, she sidestepped and left. Ke Yixuan’s tardiness had pushed things back half an hour.
The interview time was cut by half an hour too. As Jian Shichu entered, Tang Qin lounged on the sofa, peeking over her tablet, eyes fixed straight on Jian Shichu.
The mood was easing up. Though Xu Ting wasn’t pleased, she wouldn’t badmouth Ke Yixuan in public—too many ears.
Seeing Jian Shichu, Xu Ting scooted over. “Doudou, sit here with me.”
Xu Ting and Wang Yun were old classmates and close. When Wang Yun married and had Jian Shichu, they’d jokingly made her a goddaughter.
They never changed the term, but Xu Ting really did adore her.
Obedient, pretty, good grades—who wouldn’t like a kid like that?
Jian Shichu sat down without hesitation, sweetly complimenting Xu Ting’s fashion sense.
Wang Yun had raised her girl that way—never shy in crowds, a bit proud but not overbearing, like a wild rose on the plains, a white one at that.
When she was little, Wang Yun was swamped; that year was the hottest in the film industry, so the kid was pretty much “free-range.”
It wasn’t until she was nearly in junior high that Wang Yun took more time off.
Tang Qin glanced over again. Next to her sat the male second lead. With barely concealed gossip in her eyes, she leaned in. “Director Wang has such great connections. Why not push her own daughter into the industry?”
She sighed inwardly—Jian Shichu had real potential, naturally beautiful, no need for work, and with Xu Ting’s ties, resources would roll in.
The male second lead shielded his face with his phone, glanced sideways, and smiled faintly. “If she joined, it’d mean fewer jobs for others. But today I overheard President Song from Tengyu chatting with Director Wang—she doesn’t want her daughter in the media spotlight. Even pulled the promo posters from the restaurant.”
Tang Qin’s eyes widened. “Why?”
He shrugged, brows tilting down to signal he didn’t know.
Their chat was lively, Jian Shichu’s arrival sparking the topic.
Jian Shichu seemed distracted, listening attentively on the surface but glancing at the door now and then. She was waiting for Wen Zhixu to return.
About five minutes later…
Wang Yun checked her watch, and Jian Shichu reflexively looked up, eyes lifting from her phone.
“About time. She should be downstairs soon. Xiao Xu went to the convenience store too—should be back. Everyone, get ready.” Wang Yun stood.
Jian Shichu barely registered it, fixating only on “Wen Zhixu went to the convenience store.” Her expression shifted as she stood and headed for the door.
—
The convenience store’s glass door slid open and shut, the “welcome” greeting fragmented for minutes on end.
Wen Zhixu held a bottle of mineral water, queuing behind a man. His suit was impeccably tailored—no wrinkles, his broad frame completely blocking her view.
She killed time scrolling her phone, occasionally peeking ahead.
The scanner beeped. A green QR code flashed by. The man skipped the plastic bag, pocketed his item, and turned to leave, passing her.
She stepped forward, placing her things on the counter.
Her gaze drifted over the shelves by the register—little square boxes of all brands, the priciest row missing one spot.
After paying, Wen Zhixu twisted open the cap as she stepped out, taking a sip. The heat enveloped her the moment she exited.
Two more security guards had been added at the entrance of Yuji Hotel. Wen Zhixu happened to reach the door, where several fans were squatting in wait. Ke Yixuan would enter directly through the main gate.
Some fans could buy intel on their idols’ schedules. The ones selling info on internal activities were all insiders.
A black business van slowly pulled up. Wen Zhixu stood at a distance without approaching. She planned to wait until Ke Yixuan went inside before leaving.
The fans outside stood up and began snapping photos with the devices in their hands. These pictures generally wouldn’t end up on public platforms.
When Ke Yixuan stepped out of the car, she took off her sunglasses. She wasn’t dressed in any overly deliberate, fancy style—this kind of activity interview called for casual.
But she had put effort into her makeup. She didn’t dawdle after getting out and headed straight inside. Suddenly, a glob of spit flew out from somewhere, landing squarely on Ke Yixuan’s hair.
There weren’t many people around. Ke Yixuan whipped her head around, her anger flaring up in an instant. Last year at the airport, she’d been splashed with a drink—she was used to this kind of thing by now.
“Stop right there!” Ke Yixuan immediately pointed at the person. The other fans started hurling curses. Seeing the culprit turn to flee,
Ke Yixuan lunged forward and grabbed them by the hair. The person toppled backward from the momentum. Security rushed over to intervene, but Ke Yixuan punched and kicked without mercy.
Wen Zhixu stood there stunned. People around had already started taking photos. Ke Yixuan showed no sign of letting go, and the other party immediately grabbed her hair in retaliation. It was obvious that Ke Yixuan’s fighting prowess completely crushed her opponent.
This brawl from Ke Yixuan was destined for the hot searches. More and more people were gathering at the entrance. Someone had called the police. Wen Zhixu’s first instinct was to hurry upstairs and tell Wang Yun.
She had just reached the door when the crowd swelled even more. Even the lobby security had come out. She pushed through the revolving door. In the chaos, some force yanked her to the side, and her shoulder pressed against something soft and yielding.
‘Bang~’ A massive crash. Wen Zhixu turned her head to look.
A one-meter-tall flower pot had been knocked over, black soil spilling everywhere in a huge mess. She had narrowly avoided it. The commotion outside was deafening.
She felt a strand of hair brush against her cheek and abruptly whipped her head around. Jian Shichu was steadily shielding her.
Wen Zhixu frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to catch you,” Jian Shichu said flatly. Her gaze drifted through the glass window to the scene outside, where Ke Yixuan was locked in a fierce fight.
Off in the crowd, she spotted Song Yi’s figure too, holding a carton of yogurt and weaving through the people to get inside.
Wen Zhixu took a step back. She pushed Jian Shichu away and, following her line of sight, spotted Song Yi as well. She quickly turned her back and murmured her thanks, “Thank you.”
With quick steps, she hurried inside without looking back.
