Always Chasing My White Moonlight Omega - Chapter 32.2

But in the end, she didn’t ask Ruan Yang to do anything else.

The movie was almost finished filming, and there was still some time before the deadline set by the investors, so the filming schedule for the next few days wasn’t as heavy as before.

They wrapped up early in the evening. Just as Ruan Yang was about to return to the hotel to organize her notes, Xu Zhiyi stopped her at the entrance of the film studio.

“Going back?” Xu Zhiyi asked, her hands behind her back, glancing at the notebook and phone in Ruan Yang’s hand. Her gaze lingered for a second on the charm hanging from Ruan Yang’s phone.

Ruan Yang’s hand holding the notebook stiffened. She looked up at Xu Zhiyi.

The setting sun cast a soft glow on Xu Zhiyi, her long eyelashes casting delicate shadows under her eyes. The color of her lips complemented the pink hues of the twilight, making her breathtakingly beautiful.

Ruan Yang was stunned for a moment before she replied dazedly, “Mm.”

“Want to go watch the sunset?” Xu Zhiyi asked. “I know a great spot for it.”

Unnoticed by her, the cover of the notebook in Ruan Yang’s hand had been crumpled. Ruan Yang averted her gaze as if trying to escape something and attempted to refuse, “No, I have things to do.”

But Xu Zhiyi paid no attention to her answer and strode past Ruan Yang, heading forward.

“Then come with me.”

Ruan Yang’s words were cut off. She turned to watch Xu Zhiyi’s figure walking toward the sunset and, without any hesitation, followed her.

Xu Zhiyi led Ruan Yang up a city wall. No one was filming there, and the wide wall was empty except for the two of them, enveloped in silence.

“So, what do you think?” Xu Zhiyi placed one hand on the wall, slowly tracing the patterns on the bricks as she looked up at the crimson-stained sky. “The sunset here is beautiful, isn’t it?”

Ruan Yang had already noticed that Xu Zhiyi seemed to be holding something in her other hand, but she didn’t ask about it.

She didn’t even look up at the sunset; her gaze was fixed intently on Xu Zhiyi’s eyes.

After a long pause, she finally nodded and said, “…It’s beautiful.”

Very beautiful.

Hearing this answer, Xu Zhiyi turned around with a smile, facing Ruan Yang.

Her other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly rose and was placed right in front of Ruan Yang’s eyes.

Ruan Yang’s gaze was still fixed on Xu Zhiyi’s face when it was suddenly blocked. Before she could clearly see what was happening, Xu Zhiyi abruptly spread her fingers open.

Something fell from her palm, then bounced lightly in the air a few times, suspended by a thin string still wrapped around her fingertip.

After a few seconds, it finally settled. Under the evening sun, the object’s surface reflected a golden glow.

Ruan Yang focused her eyes and saw it was a teru teru bōzu doll painted with a smiling face.

Her breath caught for a moment.

Behind the sunny doll was Xu Zhiyi’s face drawing closer.

Tilting her head, she smiled with eyes curved like crescent moons, brimming with light.

“For you.”

Ruan Yang’s nails dug into her palms, her pupils unconsciously dilating.

Seeing no response after a long moment, Xu Zhiyi waved her hand in front of Ruan Yang’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Ruan Yang finally snapped out of it, emotions swirling in her eyes as she reached up to take the sunny doll from Xu Zhiyi’s fingertip.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing. Why are you suddenly giving me this?”

From Ruan Yang’s noticeably softened tone, Xu Zhiyi could tell she liked the gift. She smiled. “A birthday present.”

Ruan Yang carefully cradled it in her palm and looked at Xu Zhiyi.

“Your birthday was ruined because of me, so I’m giving you a birthday gift.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Ruan Yang pressed the gift against her chest.

She lowered her gaze, holding it as if it were some precious treasure.

To Ruan Yang, birthdays had never held much significance. Ruan Qingyu had never gotten along well with her other mother since childhood, and by extension, hadn’t been particularly fond of Ruan Yang either.

So Ruan Yang had rarely celebrated birthdays before.

But this gift held different meaning for her.

In that moment, Xu Zhiyi seemed to see something resembling tenderness in Ruan Yang.

Does she like sunny dolls that much?

Suddenly curious, she asked, “I’ve noticed you’ve been using that pendant for a long time. Did someone give it to you?”

She’d noticed it last time when driving Ruan Yang to the hotel near the film studio – the teru teru bōzu pendant looked quite old.

But perhaps because its owner cherished it dearly and maintained it well, the surface remained shiny without any scratches.

“Yeah.” Ruan Yang put the pendant in her pocket, then looked up at the sunset, as if seeing someone through the fading light. “It was given by someone very important.”

The smile froze on Xu Zhiyi’s lips.

A strange feeling suddenly arose in her heart. She desperately wanted to ask Ruan Yang who that person was.

But in the end, she suppressed the urge and said lightly, “By the way, I still need to say it – happy birthday.”

Ruan Yang’s gaze fell on Xu Zhiyi’s face, her expression suddenly complex.

“No need… I heard what you said that day.”

“You heard?” Xu Zhiyi frowned, recalling her complicated feelings from that day. “Then why didn’t you stop?”

After speaking, Ruan Yang pursed her lips and said nothing more, simply looking at Xu Zhiyi in silence.

Xu Zhiyi: “…”

Alright, alright.

It was her fault.

The sun had already half-set. Xu Zhiyi turned around, placing both hands on the city wall, beginning to soak in the tranquility of the moment.

A gentle breeze blew between them, and she suddenly realized – this seemed to be the first time she and Ruan Yang had ever talked so peacefully.

In a few days, this film will wrap up.

Perhaps it was the perfect atmosphere of the moment, with the sunset just beautiful enough, that Xu Zhiyi suddenly felt like talking a bit more with Ruan Yang.

She turned her head and saw Ruan Yang with her eyes closed, tilting her face upward to feel the sunlight of the setting sun.

“What are you planning to do after the wrap-up?” she asked.

Ruan Yang slowly opened her eyes.

Her own film preparations were almost complete. It was a small crew, after all, and the pre-production hadn’t been too complicated.

Most of the personnel were already in place, and as soon as she, the director, left this set, they could start shooting right away.

But Ruan Yang wasn’t ready to tell Xu Zhiyi yet. She lied, “Maybe I’ll go out with some classmates.”

“Traveling?” Xu Zhiyi remembered that Ruan Yang had used this excuse to deceive her and her mother before. She asked, “With the same classmates from the island last time?”

“Mm,” Ruan Yang nodded.

At the mention of this, Xu Zhiyi thought of the girl named Lu Yiye, who had stood with Ruan Yang last time.

She seemed to harbor a lot of hostility toward Xu Zhiyi.

Xu Zhiyi was very sensitive to others’ hostility. Usually, those who held animosity toward her were competitors in the industry, but Lu Yiye had no real connection to her. Why would she feel hostile?

Well, not entirely without connection.

Xu Zhiyi glanced up at Ruan Yang.

The only connection between them was Ruan Yang.

Noticing Xu Zhiyi’s gaze, Ruan Yang felt a bit puzzled but still asked, “What about you? Any plans after this?”

“What plans could I possibly have?” Xu Zhiyi raised her hand, peering at the sunset through her fingers, her tone suddenly distant. “First, terminate the contract, then continue acting.”

She gave a self-deprecating smile. “It’s not like I can just go back and inherit the family business, after all.”

Almost instantly, Ruan Yang’s body tensed up.

Seeing that Xu Zhiyi seemed to have spoken without any particular intention, she averted her gaze again.

“I really love acting,” Xu Zhiyi continued, as if talking to herself. The fading sunlight streamed through her fingers and landed on the tip of her nose. “Acting lets me meet many people, experience countless different lives, and even feel emotions I’ve never felt before.”

Emotions she had always lacked.

Xu Zhiyi’s gaze slowly shifted upward, settling on her fingertips.

She murmured softly, “It’s been a long time since I last painted my nails.”

At these words, Ruan Yang’s expression darkened.

Xu Zhiyi suddenly snapped back to reality and immediately turned to look at Ruan Yang.

The sun had completely set, and in the dimming light, Ruan Yang’s expression became somewhat indistinct.

Xu Zhiyi didn’t know why she felt the need to explain herself to Ruan Yang, but the feeling was familiar like the day at the Xu family home when Ruan Yang had walked away without looking back.

“I didn’t mean…” she wanted to say she hadn’t meant it that way, but what exactly “that way” was, Xu Zhiyi herself wasn’t quite sure.

It felt like she had inexplicably walked into a dead end.

Xu Zhiyi raised a hand to rub her forehead, thinking about how to make Ruan Yang believe her.

“Whether you meant it or not doesn’t matter,” Ruan Yang said, her hands slipping into her pockets, her tone light. “Then I’ll wish you success in advance, Sister Zhiyi.”

Her voice seemed to have returned to the tone from a few days ago cold and unapproachable.

Xu Zhiyi reached out to grab Ruan Yang, but Ruan Yang turned away more decisively than she had imagined.

She walked back along the path she had come, leaving Xu Zhiyi standing alone on the city wall.

Back in the hospital, Xu Zhiyi could still grasp the hem of Ruan Yang’s clothes.

But this time, there was only empty air.

Xu Zhiyi flexed her fingers, unsure how long she had been standing there.

It wasn’t until Jiang Jiang came to find her. Xu Zhiyi spent most of the year at the film studio, and during breaks, she often liked to come here to feel the breeze.

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