Let's Get Married on the First Day of Rebirth - Chapter 35

Suddenly, a memory came to mind.

It felt somewhat related, yet not entirely.

It was probably during the final year of high school, at the last New Year’s arts performance.

Qu Ange was dragged into dancing by the girls in her class. She had no idea how to dance and felt embarrassed. The class monitor tried to persuade her, saying it was the last chance in high school—didn’t she want to leave behind a beautiful memory? Qu Ange was pestered for a whole week and, in a daze, somehow ended up agreeing.

She practiced at home, but her mother always scolded her for not doing anything productive. So, she used studying as an excuse to go to Xu Mi’s place and practice there. As she moved her limbs awkwardly in the bedroom, even she could tell it looked off. But Xu Mi always watched her seriously, never once making fun of her.

One day, exhausted from dancing, Qu Ange asked Xu Mi, “Don’t you think I look ridiculous?”

Xu Mi replied, “Not at all.”

Qu Ange flopped onto the bed and rolled closer to Xu Mi, asking again, “Then do you think I dance well?”

Xu Mi said, “Very well.”

Qu Ange rolled her eyes, thinking this person must be blind.

When the day finally arrived, Xu Mi, who usually stayed in the classroom to study during such events, came to the auditorium. On stage, Qu Ange made a mistake and nearly stumbled. Mortified, she ran off as soon as the performance ended. That evening, on her way home, she ran into Xu Mi standing under a streetlight, reviewing her mistake notebook. Qu Ange had already walked past when Xu Mi finally noticed her.

Annoyed, Qu Ange coughed. Xu Mi looked up and said, “Qu Ange, why did you leave so quickly?”

Qu Ange kicked a small stone on the road. “Of course, I left. Did you expect me to stick around and get laughed at?”

Xu Mi was puzzled. “Why would anyone laugh at you?”

Qu Ange said, “I almost fell.”

Xu Mi replied, “Really? I didn’t even notice.”

It suddenly dawned on Qu Ange. “No wonder you never reacted during my practice sessions. You can’t even tell what good dancing looks like.”

Xu Mi nodded and said, “That’s true.” At the same time, she rummaged through her backpack, putting away the mistake notebook and pulling out a bouquet of roses.

“I was going to give these to you on stage, but you disappeared, so I’ll give them to you now.”

The white roses had been pressed inside the bag and were slightly wilted. Qu Ange walked over and said, a bit speechless, “People don’t usually give flowers to dancers, do they?”

“Don’t they? I’ve seen it on TV.”

Qu Ange took the flowers anyway. The fragrance filled her senses, and she felt a faint happiness. “Were you really going to come on stage to give me flowers?” she asked.

She didn’t voice the rest of her thought: “Would you even have had the nerve?” She knew how shy Xu Mi was.

Under the streetlight, Xu Mi’s ears were visibly red. She looked at Qu Ange and said, “I was hesitating, but you left without giving me a chance.”

Qu Ange leaned in closer. “Then you should thank me.”

As she drew near, Xu Mi’s face grew even redder.

She took half a step back, leaning against the wall, and lowered her gaze slightly, the corners of her eyes tinged with red.

At that time, Qu Ange’s feelings for Xu Mi weren’t entirely clear. She just thought Xu Mi was quite cute. But that night, seeing Xu Mi’s flushed face, a small flame ignited in her heart. Her eyes lingered on Xu Mi’s lips, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered what it would feel like to kiss them.

But the thought vanished as quickly as a flash of lightning. Embarrassed, she straightened up.

She had meant to say, “Stay at my place tonight.”

For some reason, she suddenly felt shy at that moment and changed the subject, saying, “Let me walk you home.”

Holding the white rose behind her back, her steps became somewhat flustered for no apparent reason. That evening, filled with the fragrance of roses, settled into her memories, resurfacing from time to time.

Later, Qu Ange asked Xu Mi, “When did you start liking me?” Xu Mi replied, “I don’t know, maybe during university.” Qu Ange then asked, “Do you remember that night you gave me the white rose? Wasn’t it because you already liked me then?”

Xu Mi blushed. She was always easily embarrassed and said, “Maybe, but it was mainly to encourage you.”

Memories washed over her like waves, rising and falling, so much so that she didn’t notice the music drawing closer.

Suddenly, her arm was gripped tightly, causing a sharp pain. Qu Ange snapped back to reality and saw Qiu Shuiyi looking excitedly ahead.

It turned out Lin Wanzhao was walking toward them.

And she was already right in front of them.

It would be too awkward to avoid her now, so Qu Ange smiled and met Lin Wanzhao’s gaze without flinching. As the music faded, Lin Wanzhao set down her violin and asked, “Did I play it correctly?”

Too tired to explain anything tonight, Qu Ange simply nodded and said, “Yes, it was correct.”

Qiu Shuiyi pinched her arm and whispered, “So you know Miss Lin? Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Qu Ange glanced at Xu Mi, who was still there but looking down. She then said, “This is CEO Qiu, the CEO of Brilliant Films.”

Qiu Shuiyi patted Qu Ange’s back and said, “Why bring that up? Hello, Miss Lin, I’m Qiu Shuiyi. I’ve been in City A lately, feel free to reach out if you want to hang out.”

Social niceties seemed ingrained in her DNA, and Qu Ange effortlessly replied, “We should definitely meet up sometime.”

The melodious classical music began again, and thanks to Lin Wanzhao, Qu Ange suddenly became the center of attention at the party. Numerous influential people, some she knew and some she didn’t, came up to introduce themselves. Qu Ange handled it gracefully, introducing herself with ease.

But when she came to her senses again, Xu Mi was gone.

She found a quiet corner to call Xu Mi, but Xu Mi hung up and sent a text instead—【Just meet me at the entrance when you’re ready to leave.】

Qu Ange replied—【Alright, see you at the entrance.】

……

Xu Mi was in the restroom again. She checked the time—9:30. She wasn’t sure if it was considered early or late.

But she didn’t feel like overthinking it. As she pushed the door open to leave, she saw Lin Wanzhao touching up her makeup in front of the mirror. Startled, she hesitated for a moment but decided not to greet her and headed straight for the door. Lin Wanzhao spoke up, “Aren’t you going to wash your hands?”

I didn’t use the restroom. She could explain, but it felt like too much trouble.

Xu Mi turned back to wash her hands. Under the sound of running water, Lin Wanzhao said, “What a coincidence or not. I’ve been wondering when you’d come out.”

Xu Mi glanced at Lin Wanzhao’s reflection in the mirror.

Is this young lady a bit odd? she thought.

Lin Wanzhao smiled and said, “I imagined how our conversation might go, but since you didn’t say anything, I had to start it myself.”

Staying silent while someone else talked felt impolite, so after a moment’s thought, Xu Mi simply said, “Oh,” straightened up, and headed for the door.

Lin Wanzhao called out, “Aren’t you going to dry your hands? But there’s no paper here. I have some tissues—do you need one?”

Xu Mi hesitated for a moment. Lin Wanzhao stepped forward, pressed a tissue into Xu Mi’s hand, and said, “Thank you. Thank you.”

Xu Mi looked at her, puzzled. “Are you saying thank you on my behalf?” That was just too strange.

Lin Wanzhao smiled. “The first one was for you, the second for myself.”

Realizing the other had recognized her, Xu Mi said, “It’s nothing, just a small gesture.”

She glanced at the tissue in her hand and added, “Thank you.”

Lin Wanzhao tilted her head slightly. “Do you think I’m a little odd?”

Xu Mi replied, “A little.”

Lin Wanzhao was taken aback. “Most people wouldn’t say that.”

Xu Mi thought for a moment and said bluntly, “Then they’re lying to you.”

She turned and walked away. This time, Lin Wanzhao didn’t stop her.

She probably thinks I’m rude and emotionally inept, Xu Mi thought.

…

Perhaps because everyone attending the banquet had driven themselves, there weren’t many people at the hotel entrance.

Xu Mi spotted Qu Ange from a distance. Dressed in a champagne-colored gown, she looked like a water lily blooming in the night. Many people were watching her, yet no one approached. Xu Mi couldn’t help but recall the scene earlier at the banquet—Lin Wanzhao, holding her viola, moving toward Qu Ange. Both were strikingly beautiful and poised, standing together like a perfect pair.

Xu Mi wondered if it was jealousy that had prompted her to say such harsh words to Lin Wanzhao in the restroom.

There must have been some truth to it, she thought. I really can’t stand seeing others do well.

Hugging her arms, she walked over. Qu Ange saw her and waved, looking genuinely happy.

They took a taxi straight to the entrance of their neighborhood.

At this hour, the old residential area was mostly deserted. Many of the streetlights were broken, leaving long stretches of the path in darkness. Fortunately, the moonlight was bright tonight, casting a frost-like glow on the road, making it possible to see ahead.

Say something, Xu Mi thought.

Say something, on this final night.

Should she say goodbye? Perhaps she should. After all, Qu Ange had once tearfully begged her not to leave without a word.

But sometimes, uttering those words was truly difficult. It was no wonder that disappearing without a farewell wasn’t always just for dramatic effect.

They remained silent until they reached the entrance of their building. There, they saw someone sitting by the iron gate, legs sprawled out like a stray dog. Xu Mi froze and glanced at Qu Ange.

Qu Ange looked equally shocked.

The person sitting there in the middle of the night was none other than Zhou Yue.

He seemed to have been drinking, his face flushed red. Hearing their footsteps, he looked up with a forced smile and said, “Ange, you’re back. Were you at some banquet? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Qu Ange pulled Xu Mi behind her and said, “I’ve already sent the termination letter. If you don’t agree, we can proceed with legal action. You’re no longer my agent.”

Xu Mi was slightly taken aback. Standing in Qu Ange’s shadow, she caught a whiff of Qu Ange’s perfume—a somewhat unfamiliar scent, the one sprayed on her at the beauty salon earlier.

Zhou Yue’s eyes were bloodshot as he stared at Qu Ange. In stark contrast to his friendly words, his face was etched with unmistakable, deep-seated hatred.

“Agent? Haha, let me tell you something funny. Today I sent a termination letter to the company’s higher-ups. During the day, they were talking about dragging you through legal proceedings to wear you down. But then, somehow, in the evening, they suddenly called me and said they wouldn’t make it difficult for you to terminate the contract anymore.”

There was a brief pause in the voice, and Xu Mi could feel Qu Ange’s palm sweating, slick and clammy.

Zhou Yue’s voice rose sharply, like a volcano suddenly erupting: “And they told me to resign tomorrow! Resign on my own! Saying I’ve harmed the company’s interests?”

Qu Ange chuckled softly: “Well, you did harm them, didn’t you? The money you squeezed out of the artists under you—I doubt all of it went to the company.”

Zhou Yue glared venomously at Qu Ange: “Did you snitch?”

Qu Ange squeezed Xu Mi’s hand and whispered, “Call the police.”

Xu Mi immediately took out her phone to call the police. Zhou Yue stood up and said, “What are you doing? I haven’t done anything. Are you planning to waste police resources?”

As Xu Mi dialed the number, Zhou Yue was about to rush forward when he heard her say, “Hello, is this 110?”

Zhou Yue, holding a can of beer, said, “Alright, this is really boring. I’m leaving. I still have resources in my hands—do you think I’d actually commit a crime for you?”

He slowly walked over to Qu Ange. Qu Ange pulled Xu Mi to the other side. Zhou Yue laughed and said, “You’re quite interesting, Qu Ange. You know, there’s still a long road ahead. Rats have their holes, snakes have their paths. We’ll see.”

Qu Ange frowned slightly and said, “There’s no need for this, Zhou Yue. I just wanted to terminate the contract. Your resignation is Guangju’s decision. Taking it out on me is unnecessary.”

Zhou Yue paused mid-step. Qu Ange continued, “If you only pick on the weak, you should think carefully about whether I’m really that weak.”

Zhou Yue shot her a glare and walked away. Qu Ange breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Xu Mi, who said, “I hung up.”

Qu Ange nodded: “Mm, let’s go upstairs.”

But Xu Mi hesitated and said, “Let’s walk a bit more, Qu Ange. I have something to say.”

…

Was it strange?

Xu Mi often called her by her full name.

Of course, Xu Mi called others that way too, but they were lovers—shouldn’t there be something different?

When they first got together, Qu Ange had hoped Xu Mi would come up with a nickname. They brainstormed many options, but Xu Mi couldn’t bring herself to use any of them, finding them too cheesy.

In the end, the biggest concession she made was to call her “Ange,” but sometimes she’d forget and still call her “Qu Ange.”

“Don’t you think calling me that feels distant?” Qu Ange once asked curiously.

Xu Mi thought for a moment and said, “But your name is Qu Ange. I think it’s the best name in the world. When I say it, I always feel genuinely happy, so it never feels distant.”

Hearing this, Qu Ange was instantly overwhelmed with sweetness and kissed Xu Mi’s lips, saying, “You’re too good at sweet talk.”

That was just like Xu Mi—seemingly serious and proper, yet occasionally doing something unexpectedly tender.

During their sophomore year summer vacation, they traveled to Xiamen. They drank at a bar on Guangju Island and, after having too much, somehow ended up kissing. The next morning, they couldn’t help but feel awkward. Qu Ange said very awkwardly, “Sometimes, even close friends do this kind of thing… maybe.”

Xu Mi replied, “I wouldn’t.”

Qu Ange sighed helplessly, saying, “Saying it like that just makes me seem awkward, doesn’t it?”

Xu Mi looked at her with a hint of hesitation: “Alright then, maybe even close friends do things like that.”

But after that, Xu Mi clearly treated her differently—buying her water when she was thirsty, shading her from the sun when it was hot. After the semester started, she sent Qu Ange snacks every week and frequently visited her school for no particular reason. When they ate together in the cafeteria, Qu Ange’s classmates recognized Xu Mi: “Ange, this is your friend from S University, right? She’s here at our school again.”

That year, on Xu Mi’s birthday, the two went out for barbecue. Xu Mi gifted her a wool coat, to which Qu Ange rolled her eyes and said, “For your birthday, I gave you a scarf worth a few dozen yuan, and you give me such an expensive coat? What’s the meaning of this?”

Xu Mi replied, “Uh, I just thought it suited you. Consider it a Christmas gift.”

Qu Ange clutched her head: “I’ve already spent all my allowance for this month. I can’t afford to return the favor.”

Xu Mi looked conflicted, frowning as she stared at the barbecue and said, “I think it’s burning.”

Qu Ange wasn’t foolish; she had already sensed something but was frustrated that the other hadn’t spoken up.

Biting her chopsticks, she tentatively asked, “Mimi, what kind of person would you like?”

Xu Mi lowered her head: “I can’t really say.”

Qu Ange pressed, “Really? There must be some criteria, like someone who’s studious, pretty, meticulous…”

Xu Mi lifted her head, gazed at Qu Ange’s face, thought for a moment, and said, “Then… pretty, I guess.”

Qu Ange deliberately feigned disdain: “How shallow of you.”

And she felt a bit displeased, thinking she shouldn’t be reduced to just “pretty” as her only merit.

Xu Mi propped her chin, flipping the meat on the grill, and said, “It’s not shallow. It’s just that if I fall for someone, it won’t be because of their qualities, but because they are who they are.”

Qu Ange was struck by those words.

Suddenly, she felt vulgar and impure compared to Xu Mi. Her own reasons for liking Xu Mi were numerous—cute looks, academic excellence, diligence, kindness toward her…

Too many reasons, all tied to countless merits.

She stared at Xu Mi’s face, growing impatient.

She desperately wanted to ask: Am I the one you think is “the one”?

Holding her breath, she endured until the next day.

Seeing that Xu Mi still hadn’t confessed even after her birthday, Qu Ange abruptly asked during breakfast in the cafeteria, “Do you like me or not?”

Xu Mi choked on her congee and started coughing.

“You treat me so well—you must like me, right? Don’t tell me I’m just imagining things?”

Xu Mi looked up, her skin flushed from her hairline to her neck, whether from choking or shyness. She took a deep breath, nodded, and said, “I like you.”

Qu Ange smiled—

“Then let’s be together.”

…

Under the moonlight, the two reminisced about many university memories.

Student clubs and off-campus activities, exam weeks when Xu Mi tutored Qu Ange, and the time Xu Mi stayed up all night correcting Qu Ange’s mistakes while Qu Ange slept at the desk until dawn.

The next morning, Xu Mi handed Qu Ange a note, saying, “You don’t need to know anything else—just memorize this.”

Strangely enough, that very note contained the final question on that day’s exam.

As they talked, they realized just how many memories they shared.

Too many to recount.

For Qu Ange, it was a day she would never forget even after ten or twenty years.

Sometimes she wished time could stand still forever, frozen in that moment when they were still so young, unaware and unconcerned about where the road ahead might lead. Life flowed like a gentle stream, without turbulence or waves.

Listening to Qu Ange’s musings, Xu Mi suddenly said, “We could, you know.”

Qu Ange fell silent.

“It’s quite simple—much simpler than struggling in the entertainment industry. Let’s go back home, to our hometown. I can take a relaxed job while working on my own media projects. I’ve been making decent money this past month, and I’m sure I’ll do even better going forward. You can help me brainstorm ideas. Your mind is so sharp, you come up with things I’d never think of. We could live a simple life and avoid the mess of the entertainment world.”

Qu Ange chuckled, “Then wouldn’t I just be freeloading?”

Xu Mi replied, “No, you’d be helping me with content ideas. And even if I were supporting you, I wouldn’t mind. Really.”

A brief silence followed.

The moon was bright, the stars sparse, and the sky cloudless. Tree shadows swayed and rustled, mingling with the chirping of cicadas. The night breeze swept away the day’s oppressive heat. It was truly a beautiful evening.

If this were a TV drama, a torrential downpour would have suited the characters’ moods perfectly.

Qu Ange blurted out, “I do mind. I don’t want to be a parasite. I want to achieve success.”

Some people say that experiencing something is enough, but success isn’t like that. Success is something you never want to let go of once you’ve tasted it.

And for her, success wasn’t an illusion. It was something tangible, within reach.

She looked at Xu Mi and said, “We can do it together. Yes, the entertainment industry has its hidden rules and dark sides, but I can avoid them. I… I won’t lose myself in it.”

Xu Mi began to drift off.

Her mind was still stuck on Qu Ange’s earlier words: “I do mind. I don’t want to be a parasite. I want to achieve success.”

She let out a light laugh and said, “You mind—do you think I don’t? When you asked me to be your agent, did you ever consider that it meant I’d be dependent on you?”

She avoided looking at Qu Ange, instead focusing on their elongated shadows cast by the moonlight.

Qu Ange protested, “That’s not what I meant. It’s great that you’re doing what you love now.”

Xu Mi sneered, “If that’s not what you meant, then why did you interpret my words that way? Deep down, you just think a life with me isn’t glamorous enough. You want to be a star. You want fame, you want to be celebrated, you want to host banquets in five-star hotels and wear extravagant gowns.”

She had actually said it.

Xu Mi hadn’t even realized such thoughts were lurking in her mind, and now they had spilled out, hissing like venomous snakes.

Qu Ange was equally stunned. She denied it immediately, “No, that’s not true. I just love acting.”

Xu Mi looked up at her, “Really? Then why aren’t you like Lin Zhenyi, taking on any role you love without caring about pay or status? Could you do that?”

Qu Ange was speechless.

Xu Mi pressed on relentlessly, “You want fame. You know it perfectly well. It’s not just about loving acting.”

Qu Ange: “But since I have the ability, why can’t I? What’s wrong with wanting those things?”

Xu Mi: “I didn’t say it’s wrong. People can certainly choose to be vain.”

Qu Ange’s heart tightened at Xu Mi’s words. For the first time, she realized this was how she appeared in Xu Mi’s eyes.

Qu Ange: “Do you think I’m shallow?”

Xu Mi: “Shallow.”

Qu Ange: “Do you think I’m just vain?”

Xu Mi: “Vain.”

Qu Ange: “I just want us both to have a better life. Is that so wrong?”

Xu Mi: “For me, the life we have now is the best. You say you miss the past, yet you’re the one burying this life with your own hands. Don’t you think you’re being hypocritical?”

As she spoke, Xu Mi began to cry.

She didn’t even know why she was crying. She was the one saying harsh words, she was the one hurting others, yet her heart ached so intensely that she could no longer keep walking.

She remembered how Zhou Yue had stood in front of them earlier, and how Qu Ange had pulled her behind. She couldn’t help but think, Qu Ange is so good, she’s truly wonderful. She’ll succeed, won’t she? The kind of success she wants—those glamorous, dazzling things. So many people love her, so many admire her.

She’ll soon realize there are many people better than me. Other actors who share her ambitions, CEOs who can offer her opportunities, and that young lady—flawed but pure and beautiful—who also admires Qu Ange. They look so well-matched together.

She sat down on a stone bench nearby, tears silently flooding her eyes. She wiped them away with her hand and looked up at Qu Ange, who was gazing back at her deeply, eyes red-rimmed, jaw clenched tightly.

Countless thoughts swirled in Qu Ange’s mind. She remembered that winter, the aroma of grilled meat in the air, and Xu Mi saying, “…I think if I ever fall in love with someone, it won’t be because of their virtues, but simply because they are who they are.”

Do you still love me, Xu Mi?

Am I still that person?

Am I—shallow, vain, hypocritical—still the one you loved?

She wanted to ask, but for some reason, she hesitated and grew afraid. She didn’t dare voice the question. Instead, she said, “Give me a little more time. Don’t leave me, okay?”

Xu Mi bit the tip of her tongue to keep her sobs from escaping. “I’m tired. I just want to go home and rest.”

She stared into Qu Ange’s eyes. “Then will you come home with me, Qu Ange?”

Her lips trembled.

Qu Ange remained silent.

Disappointment spread uncontrollably, and Xu Mi knew the answer.

She smiled and said, “I wish you success, Qu Ange.”