Chapter 18: Zhouyu’s Story

The Polaroid photo seemed to scorch Chen Yi’s fingertips.

Stumbling upon someone else’s hidden, intimate secrets left her feeling rather awkward.

Chen Yi glanced at Zhouyu.

For a fleeting instant, Zhouyu’s lazy expression faltered. In those brief seconds, Chen Yi even wondered if her soul had gone utterly blank. No outsider could fathom the emotional tempest raging within her or how she had clawed her way back from the brink beneath that serene facade. All anyone could see was her pulling herself together before speaking in a perfectly polite tone and with an equally composed expression. “Hand it over.”

Chen Yi passed the photo to her.

Zhouyu tugged at the corner of her mouth in a casual smirk. “Sorry about the mess. I haven’t cleaned up much, and there’s a bit of trash around the house. Hope I didn’t give you a laugh.”

As she spoke, she tossed the little photo into the garbage bin behind her.

A heavy weight settled in Chen Yi’s chest.

She asked, “Teacher Zhou, do you really want to throw it away?”

Zhouyu replied, “Isn’t trash meant to be thrown out?”

Chen Yi pressed, “Are you sure?”

Zhouyu fell silent.

She was at a loss for words.

This girl named Chen Yi had a pair of bright, piercing eyes that took on a sharp, elongated edge when she looked at someone intently. Under that pure yet incisive gaze, Zhouyu felt utterly exposed.

“If you truly wanted to toss it, you wouldn’t be acting like this right now.” Chen Yi glanced around the room.

Calling Zhouyu’s home a filthy mess would have been an understatement.

The place was such a disaster that even the city sanitation crew would have called the cops if they’d seen it.

“Though it might be a bit forward to say this.”

“But Teacher Zhou.” Chen Yi’s voice was soft, like a wisp of mist or a gentle breeze that brushed by tenderly, without the slightest hint of stormy fury—yet it effortlessly peeled back the wounds Zhouyu was desperately trying to hide. “Teacher Zhou, what do you really consider garbage?”

Was it that photo etched with sweet memories of the past?

Was it the woman who betrayed her and married into wealth?

Or was it herself—the one who, even after the heartbreak, clung to a thread of hope?

As Chen Yi’s words hung in the air, the room’s atmosphere froze solid in an instant.

It was Xu Yan who shattered the suffocating silence.

“Chen Yi,” she called out.

“Sorry, Teacher Zhou. My little assistant here doesn’t know when to hold her tongue.” Xu Yan added.

Zhouyu gave a wry wave of her hand. “No, no.”

She slumped into the chair, burying her face in her hands.

“She’s right,” Zhouyu murmured. “I don’t want to let it go.”

Chen Yi stood quietly to the side, listening as Zhouyu shared her story.

Truth be told, Chen Yi had already pieced together most of it from that photo moments earlier.

She had seen the other woman in the picture before.

Once, her mother had asked her to attend a wedding on her behalf, and the invitation had come from that very woman. Chen Yi hadn’t gone—she hated that kind of fuss—so her family had just sent a generic gift to check the box.

Later, Chen Yi overheard her mother gossiping that something scandalous had gone down at the wedding. The bride’s custom gown had been slashed to pieces by the designer with a pair of scissors at the last minute. She’d thrown on whatever she could find, nearly turning the whole fiasco into a laughingstock in the modeling world. Even the so-called elite family she married into had grumbled about it.

“What kind of designer does that?” Chen Yi had asked at the time. “Bailing on the commission like that?”

Her mother had shrugged. “Who knows?”

“I only know that in this world, not many people would destroy their own work with their own hands. Either geniuses or madwomen.”

Chen Yi hadn’t understood her mother’s words back then.

But now she did.

Zhouyu and the woman’s love story had begun with design work. One was a rookie designer, the other a model who’d been languishing without a break. Fate brought them together; they admired each other and supported one another through the toughest days.

Zhouyu gradually rose to prominence, gaining fame.

The woman became her exclusive model as a result, shooting to stardom in the industry.

Love had felt like the most natural thing to bloom between them.

At the design desk in her studio, amid scraps of fabric. In the backstages of fashion shows. Those places all bore witness to their passion.

Zhouyu called her muse. They talked design and dreams, the future and everyday life. Zhouyu had painstakingly crafted a dress—a modern take on traditional Chinese wedding attire—and presented it to her personally, helping her into it. Zhouyu had planned to propose after a trip abroad. Instead, the woman vanished, dress and all.

The next she heard, the woman was pregnant and marrying into high society.

Her lover was getting married.

The wedding gown was Zhouyu’s creation, and even the ceremony’s themes drew from her ideas. It was like a dream come true.

Except the groom wasn’t her.

Zhouyu had stormed the wedding and caused a scene.

“There was a moment when I really wanted us both to just die.” Zhouyu covered her face, tears streaming through her fingers. “The scissors were right there in my hand. One thrust, and it would all be over.”

“But I couldn’t do it.”

At first, Zhouyu’s voice was barely a whisper.

Then, as Chen Yi’s hand rested on her shoulder, patting it gently in comfort, she broke down sobbing like a child.

“I just can’t understand it,” Zhouyu wailed hoarsely. “What did I do wrong? Why would she treat me like this?”

“Was I not good enough? Not talented enough? Not rich enough?”

“What baffles me most—”

She paused for a long while before giving a bitter smile. “Even knowing she’s rotten to the core, there are still moments when I love her. I miss her.”

“Here.” Xu Yan handed over some tissues. “Zhouyu, you did mess up.”

Chen Yi whipped her head around to stare at Xu Yan in disbelief, her eyes wide with panic. She feared Xu Yan might say something else inflammatory that would send Zhouyu spiraling further.

Zhouyu froze too.

Xu Yan leaned against the wall, rustic sunlight filtering through the spotted window and dappling her form. She was as cool as ever, but Chen Yi couldn’t shake the illusion that the light softened her like sun on winter snow, revealing a subtle warmth. Blink, and that edge sharpened again.

“Your mistake was loving her so fiercely while forgetting to love yourself.”

“Whether she loves you is her choice, her failing—not yours. How you treat yourself, your life, your work—that’s what you control. If you think you can’t design anymore, can’t create anything worthwhile without her, then Zhouyu, I’ve overstayed my welcome today.”

“Chen Yi, let’s go.”

“Huh?” The turn of events was so abrupt that Chen Yi struggled to keep up. She stood between Zhouyu and Xu Yan, glancing from one to the other. “Chief Editor Xu, are we leaving now?”

“What else?” Xu Yan curved her lips in a cold smirk. “Stick around to feed the cockroaches?”

Chen Yi shot back, “First off, cockroaches don’t eat people, and second—”

“I’m out.”

Under Xu Yan’s gaze, Chen Yi quickly backpedaled.

“Teacher Zhou, I’m heading off!” Chen Yi called to her. “Remember to whip up some mashed potatoes for the cockroaches now and then. Oh, and keep at it—you’ve got this.”

“I always believe that after the rain comes a rainbow. It’s true.”

Xu Yan strode ahead swiftly, her high heels clicking sharply against the concrete floor. Chen Yi jogged to catch up and, as she closed the door, turned back to wave at Zhouyu.

Fresh tears surged from Zhouyu’s eyes, which had only just calmed.

She watched the sunlight refract downward, catching on the jewelry at Chen Yi’s chest. The black-silver crescent moon pendant, thanks to its unique gem cut and design, splintered the light into rainbow hues.

Like a phantom, it danced across the scattered drafts in Zhouyu’s cluttered room before vanishing.

On the other side of the door, Chen Yi caught up to Xu Yan and asked worriedly, “Chief Editor Xu, we’re just leaving like this?”

Xu Yan replied, “What, you want to stay and keep her company?”

Chen Yi shook her head vigorously. “No, no, no.”

“I mean, didn’t we come for an interview today? We didn’t get anything done and now we’re bailing?”

Zhouyu still hadn’t said yes or no in the end.

“She’s not in the right state for Shine right now,” Xu Yan said.

Chen Yi didn’t know much about that topic, so she let it drop. After a couple steps, she chattered on nervously to Xu Yan. “Chief Editor Xu, you nearly scared me to death with that line just now.”

“But it was pretty cool,” Chen Yi added with a grin. “Not gonna lie, that’s so you, Chief Editor Xu.”

Xu Yan gazed at her steadily for a moment.

“That line? I just overheard it.”

“Huh?” Chen Yi’s curiosity piqued. “From where?”

“Someone told me.”

Chen Yi marveled inwardly.

Who was it? What bold hero dared say something like that to the Female Demon Head? Respect—total respect.

Xu Yan asked, “You’re not curious who?”

Chen Yi replied, “Wouldn’t that be prying into privacy?”

Xu Yan said nothing.

Chen Yi caught on. “Chief Editor Xu, do you want to tell me?”

What was this? After hearing Zhouyu’s tale, had Xu Yan’s urge to share kicked in?

Xu Yan lifted her eyes to glance at her.

“What do you think?”

Chen Yi: “…”

Yeah, right—like I’d know!

Can’t you leaders just say what you mean straight up?!

We’re here to work, not play guessing games!

“I figure whatever you think is best is fine by me.” Chen Yi flashed an obedient smile.

Xu Yan let out a helpless chuckle and shook her head.

“Get in the car.” She paused. “And you did great today.”

A gentle pressure descended on her head.

Xu Yan had reached out and ruffled her hair lightly.

Chen Yi froze for a second, then leaped back three feet.

“Chief Editor Xu!”

Xu Yan: “……?”

Chen Yi said, “I know a temple that’s really effective at exorcising evil spirits. Want to give it a try?”

Xu Yan’s face darkened in an instant.

Chen Yi could even read a full message in her eyes: Scram—it’s just one word, and I’ll only say it once.